Snowstorm King

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Snowstorm King Page 9

by H L Macfarlane


  “No you don’t.” Elina’s eyes were shining in the darkness, overly bright and, Kilian realised, just as teary as his own were. “You don’t want to die. You’re going through withdrawal. You’re starving. You’re freezing. But you’ve been struggling through it for days now – if you wanted to die you’d have done it already.”

  Kilian said nothing. He didn’t know what to say. He was so tired of everything, but he knew he couldn’t sleep.

  Elina sighed. “Get in bed. I’ll sort everything out. Just…try and get warm.”

  And so Kilian complied, crawling beneath the covers whilst watching Elina struggle to close the window, start up a new fire until it was roaring, then ask a servant to bring through some food. She didn’t try to clean up properly, merely pushing away things on the floor into the corners so that she wouldn’t trip.

  When the servant brought through a bowl of soup and some bread they didn’t question the mess of the king’s chambers, nor the state of the man himself. They merely handed Elina the food and ran off.

  She perched herself on the bed, glancing at Kilian from beneath her lashes. “Sit up, Kilian. You can’t eat lying down.”

  “I already told you, I can’t keep any food –”

  “Sit. Up.”

  He wasn’t used to being ordered around. For a moment he considered chastising Elina for having the audacity to do so. Instead, he complied. “Are you going to feed me?” he asked, some of his usual sarcastic way of speaking finally returning.

  When Elina nodded seriously and immediately shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth Kilian was too surprised to retort. “I’m not going to stop until you’re done with the whole thing,” she said, bringing another spoonful of soup up for Kilian to drink as soon as he’d swallowed the first one.

  Twenty minutes passed in this fashion, during which time the fire began to properly heat up the room. But Kilian was still so cold, and the pain in his head was yet to abate. When he winced in response to it, Elina brought out a small vial of powder from a pocket of her dress, pouring it into a cup of water before handing it to Kilian.

  He stared at the cup dubiously. “What are you giving me?”

  “Powdered willow bark. You should have been taking it for the pain already.”

  “I don’t need something like that to –”

  “I’m not going to listen to a man who drinks his pain away tell me he doesn’t want to take medicine that will do the same thing.”

  This version of Elina was ruthless. But Kilian realised it was what he needed, so he swallowed down the water in one go.

  Finally she smiled. “Good. Keep sitting until that hits you, then lie down and go to sleep.”

  “You’re not – don’t go, Elina.”

  Kilian hated how desperate he sounded.

  Elina moved the now-empty tray of food onto the only table that Kilian hadn’t upturned. “I won’t,” she said quietly. “The weather is too bad for me to leave, anyway. You did say you wanted to trap me here, before; I should have expected this.”

  “I didn’t –”

  “I know you can’t help it,” she cut in. “You’re in pain. It’s okay. I’ll help you through it, so just focus on not being sick.”

  He laughed weakly. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who feels like this.”

  “True; I merely have to be able to stomach looking after you like this.”

  “Please stop making cruel jokes; it hurts to laugh.”

  Elina’s lips quirked at the comment. “Noted. Close your eyes, Kilian. Just try and relax.”

  It was easier said than done. Even when the willow bark took the pain away from his head and settled his stomach, finally allowing him to keep down food for the first time in days, he was still cold. Too cold. The shivering wouldn’t stop. Kilian sank below the covers, wondering how he would ever sleep.

  “Elina,” he said some time later, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn’t see her reaction when she invariably rejected him.

  “…yes?”

  “Lie in bed with me. Keep me warm.”

  She was supposed to say no. Any sane person would have said no.

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elina

  “Okay?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  In truth Elina was terrified. She had no idea why she’d agreed to such a proposal, not least when Kilian was in such a state. But perhaps it was because of that that she agreed to lying in bed with him. He looked wretched. Defenceless.

  Alone.

  Not for the first time she felt fury rising in her throat that Kilian had thought it prudent to tell her to leave him alone for days. But she was angrier at herself, for listening to him. Elina had been so excited by the prospect of creating a new overcoat for her stupid, immature king that she’d only too eagerly taken the reprieve from being by his side in order to work and work and work on the garment, hidden away in the servant’s quarters until dark.

  I won’t have a king to gift the damn thing to at this rate, Elina thought as Kilian poked his pale head above the covers, still shocked that she’d agreed to lie in bed with him. But she could see him shivering – could hear his teeth chattering – and so she knew there was no way the man would warm up enough on his own. It also meant…

  Elina’s face flushed as she looked down at her clothes. She wouldn’t be much use to Kilian as a body warmer if she kept them all on. With a sigh she began to unlace her dress, slipping it off as Kilian watched with wide, disbelieving eyes.

  “Take that ragged overcoat off,” she ordered without looking at him.

  “You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”

  “Do you want to be warm or not?”

  Kilian didn’t respond, his silence being all the compliance Elina needed. He squirmed and struggled beneath the covers, whilst Elina wondered if she needed to remove her undershirt, too.

  Surely not, she thought, but when she caught a glimpse of Kilian’s expression – hungry despite the sickness that still lingered there – a brazen part of her lifted the shirt up and over her head before she could think better of it.

  “Let down your hair, Elina.”

  It hadn’t been the words she was expecting, in truth, now that she was standing naked in front of Kilian, the firelight casting her golden skin in a sunset glow. She fingered the braid wrapped around her head, somehow feeling far more nervous about letting down her hair than she was about being stark naked. But Kilian had practically seen her naked already – he hadn’t seen her hair down. Apart from her mother nobody had.

  Slowly, carefully, she unravelled the braid, working her fingers through her hair to loosen the curls until a cascade of wavy, tawny hair came tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. She glanced at Kilian from beneath her lashes, feeling somewhat uncertain, but that feeling was forgotten when she saw the way he was looking at her.

  “You – you are so beautiful.”

  And though Daven had said the same thing, and though other people in Alder were beginning to make similar comments now, too, there was a world of difference in hearing them say Elina was beautiful and hearing Kilian say it.

  It shouldn’t affect me so much, she thought, though her cheeks were burning. I already knew he liked the look of me. Him saying I’m beautiful isn’t that important.

  Wordlessly Elina slid beneath the covers, heart hammering in her chest so loudly Kilian would definitely have heard it if the storm outside wasn’t almost deafening. But when Kilian wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close she immediately recoiled.

  “You’re freezing!” she bit out. She’d never felt a human being so cold before. “And you’re naked! I only told you to take your overcoat off.”

  Kilian snorted; Elina turned to face him, arms clutched protectively to her chest, though it was hardly as if either of them could see much in the dim light of the room, beneath the covers.

  “Why should you be the only one naked?” he said. “Hardl
y seems fair to me. And of course I’m freezing – I thought that was the point of you joining me. To warm me up.”

  “It…it is. But how could you possibly be so cold and still alive? Are you made of ice?”

  His eyes were the colour of flint in the darkness, and at her comment they grew as hard as the stone, too. “Maybe I am. It would explain how heartless I am.”

  “You really are a pathetic excuse for a human being, Kilian.”

  He sighed, and some of the hardness in his eyes went away. “I know. What would you have me do? I feel pathetic. I feel wretched. I feel freezing.”

  With trepidation Elina reached a hand out and just barely touched Kilian’s chest. She traced her fingers along his collarbone, brushing pale, tangled hair out of the way in the process. She took a deep breath, then wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and pushed her body as close to his as she could possibly get it.

  Kilian was so cold it physically hurt her to do so; Elina persisted anyway. She had to wonder if the curse had something to do with his abysmal core body temperature, and if that meant Kilian would be likely to run a constant fever once summer hit.

  She nuzzled her head against his neck and mumbled, “Get warm and go to sleep,” withholding a flinch when Kilian slid an arm around her waist and pressed his legs around one of hers.

  “I’m fairly certain going to sleep isn’t on my mind anymore…”

  Elina glanced up; Kilian’s expression was filthy. She noted with relief that his teeth were no longer chattering.

  “This coming from the man who, thirty minutes ago, told me he couldn’t keep any food down? I’d personally rather not do anything that involved you moving in the slightest, Kilian.”

  He bent his head down, brushing his lips against Elina’s. “I needn’t be the one doing the moving.”

  She dug her nails into his back. “Go to sleep!”

  “Feel free to dig into me harder next time,” Kilian smirked, but then he rested his chin on top of Elina’s head and sighed contentedly. “I’ll go to sleep. Thank you for this, Elina.”

  She didn’t say anything; she wasn’t used to hearing genuine gratitude fall from Kilian’s tongue. Instead, she listened to the raging storm outside until it almost seemed to calm, but by the time she thought to look and see if it truly had she’d already fallen asleep.

  *

  When Elina woke she was facing away from Kilian, though he still held her close with an arm around her waist. It was very dark in the room – the fire had burned itself down to a smoulder. Outside the window it was almost silent. Almost. For it seemed as if, beneath the quiet, Elina could hear…something. Like the fall of snow on top of more snow, though she should never have been able to hear that, or the soft whistling of the wind winding through the forest, though she couldn’t hear that either.

  Elina was confused; why were her ears playing tricks on her? She wondered if it was simply because everything was so quiet where before there had been noise. It was discomforting. It set her on edge; caused her heart to pound.

  It was then she realised Kilian was no longer freezing, nor was he hot from alcohol and steaming bathwater. He was merely…warm. Warm against Elina’s back, warm against her legs, warm against…

  Oh.

  Kilian shifted behind her, just enough that she could feel a very telling hardness pressing against her thigh. It sent a heat flaring up her that had entirely nothing to do with being nestled beneath blankets against the cold. Elina desperately wanted to turn – to see if Kilian was awake or aware of his own body – but she didn’t want to risk rousing him if he was fast asleep.

  She moved slightly, trying to find a more comfortable way to sleep against Kilian that didn’t send her mind racing. When his hand ended up moving from her waist to brush past her breasts Elina sucked in a breath.

  How can he be doing this fast asleep? How can he be driving me insane without even trying?

  But then Kilian’s hand twitched, and he just barely squeezed one of her breasts before proceeding to stroke her skin. His other arm snaked around her, pressing Elina’s hips against him until she cried out.

  “You’re awake, aren’t you?” she bit out, heart beating so painfully she thought it might jump out of her chest. Elina blew some of her hair away from her face, staring at her hands and wondering what to do with them – what Kilian wanted her to do with them.

  “Evidently,” was all he said, and it sounded so reassuringly like sarcastic, cruel, drunk Kilian Hale that Elina almost turned around and slapped him. But she didn’t, and Kilian took that as permission to proceed with his exploration. His hands went roaming, sliding, pinching and squeezing every available part of Elina’s body until she was writhing beneath them.

  “St-stop it, Kilian,” she stammered. “You’re not well. You need to –”

  “Don’t tell me I need to sleep. I know what I need.” A pause, and then, “Turn around, Elina.”

  She shook her head slightly, so nervous she didn’t trust her voice. Kilian clucked his tongue, affronted, before bending his head slightly in order to kiss Elina’s shoulder where it met her neck. When he began sucking on it she raised a hand to stop him, but Kilian grabbed it and sucked her fingers, instead.

  When he rocked his hips against Elina’s she let out a moan despite herself.

  “Do you really not want to do this?” Kilian whispered against her ear, voice all water over gravel and shiver-inducing.

  “I…I don’t know what to do,” Elina admitted, voice barely audible even though everything was quiet. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “All you have to do is turn around.”

  She turned.

  Kilian’s mouth found hers immediately, a hand in her hair tilting her head to meet his. Deftly he shifted Elina until she was no longer beside him but beneath him. She was shocked by the weight of him, for though Kilian hadn’t eaten in days and had been ravaged by fever he was, ultimately, still a man who towered over her when she stood beside him.

  When Elina pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath, Kilian watched her intently. His almost colourless eyes held the dying embers of the fire inside them. Along with his wild, tangled hair and sharp cheekbones he really did look like a man cursed.

  Or possessed, Elina thought, as Kilian gently ran the back of his hand across her jawline with barely-contained desire. She could feel it on the air – the tightly-wound tension that he was dying to break. Longing to break. And she wanted it too. But she was frightened; how could she not be?

  “I’ll show you what to do,” Kilian said, voice a low growl. “I won’t hurt you. Just…stay here, beneath me, and help me chase the storm away.”

  “Well when you put it like that,” Elina said, the edges of her lips quirking upwards despite herself, “then how could I possibly refuse my king?”

  “Shut up,” Kilian laughed, for just a second, and then Elina kissed him, and there were no more words spoken between them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kilian

  When Kilian woke he discovered several things. One: his head no longer felt like it was being split open with a white-hot axe. Two: he actually felt hungry, and instinctively knew that he’d be able to stomach whatever he next ate. Three: he wasn’t cold. And, most importantly, four: he wasn’t alone.

  Elina lay in his arms, sleeping softly with her head against his chest. Her long, bronze hair was almost as wild and unruly as Kilian’s was, which wasn’t surprising considering what they had spent much of the night doing.

  He glanced out the window and almost cried in shock.

  The sky was clear. Not a single cloud broke up the pale, glorious blue of it. By the angle of the sun – the sun, which Kilian could see for the first time in months – he estimated that it had to be just past noon. He wished the sunlight slanting into the room would reach his bed, so it could reflect off Elina’s hair and skin and allow Kilian to see her for the first time as what she truly was: a woman far too warm and exotic for Alder, and Kilian’s cas
tle, and Kilian himself.

  And yet Elina was with him, in one capacity or another. All he wanted to do was while away the rest of the day watching her sleep, but as Kilian thought that she seemed to rouse, turning away from Kilian to land on her back. She yawned, stretching her arms above her head as she slowly opened her eyes, taking a few moments to blinks focus into them before locating Kilian by her side.

  She smiled sleepily. “Morning, Your Royal –”

  “I’m rather certain I told you to stop calling me that. Numerous times, in fact.”

  “Sorry; that doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Kilian smoothed back Elina’s hair, clearing it from her beautiful face. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I suppose I did, though I could do with more.”

  “So go back to sleep.”

  Elina seemed to consider this for a moment but, upon realising how bright the room was, immediately sat up despite her nakedness. She stared out the window, wide-eyed; Kilian stared at her, instead.

  “It isn’t snowing.”

  “I know.”

  “Or stormy.”

  “I know.”

  “The sun is out.”

  “…I know.”

  She glanced at Kilian. “Did you hit your head or forget to be miserable or something?”

  He pushed her back against the pillows in indignation and ran a hand through his matted hair that was in desperate need of a wash. “Are you telling me you want to get stuck in the castle once more? Because I’m sure I could make that happen.”

  Elina laughed softly. She touched Kilian’s knee. “You’re still warm. That’s good.”

  “You’re talking like you expected to wake up and find me dead. I’m not as fragile as all that.”

  “Could have had me fooled. How are you feeling in general? Any pain? Fever?”

  Kilian cocked his head to the side when Elina reached up to press a dainty hand to his brow. “I feel…normal, I guess. I don’t really know what normal is, though. But no pain. Or numbness. Just…”

  “Normal,” she smiled. “I know what you mean. Are you hungry? Want me to go and prepare –”

 

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