I’m feeling the cold.
Which means Thiago’s wards are failing. I need to get us to shelter. Fast. And then I don’t know what I’m going to do.
13
Wind whips my fur vest and shirt around me as I drag Thiago through the snow.
I made a makeshift sled with his own cloak, and then packed my own around him to keep him warm. My own blood runs hot, but by the time we’ve gone half a mile, even I’m starting to feel the bitter chill creep into my toes and fingers.
He said the hunting cabin wasn't far, and I found a narrow track through the trees that clearly leads somewhere.
Please, please let it be the cabin….
Behind us, I can make out the distant howl of banes discovering what’s left of their fallen comrades. If I don’t find shelter shortly, I’ll be dealing with more of the creatures, and this time I’m on my own.
The blizzard sweeps cold curtains of snow across the world until I can barely see the path anymore. Every step I take grows harder, my boots sinking into the snow and the weight of the prince growing heavier.
“Curse you, Your Royal Arrogance,” I breathe, pricks of cold slashing my cheeks. “You trapped me with this treaty, dragged me out here, kissed me, and then bled all over me. Don’t you dare die on me. Don’t you dare.”
Only silence answers me.
“My mother will dance on your grave,” I tell him, turning and gripping the cloak with both hands as I haul him. “And I will dance with her. I swear I will. I’ll tell the whole world you were eaten by a bane. The almighty Prince of Darkness felled by a mutt.” I squat at his side, feeling for his weak pulse. It’s still there, but the flicker of it worries me. “I’ll make up poems, have them sing ballads about your inglorious end…. What rhymes with Thiago?”
Curse him. Blood wells through the makeshift bandages I applied, melting the snowy slush that settles on his chest. He’s definitely getting heavier.
I blink, and don’t recognize where I am.
Each step seems slower, heavier. Shaking my head, I find the trail and push on. This has to lead to the cabin. I won’t consider any other possibility.
“Don’t you dare stop breathing, you stubborn, infuriating bastard.”
Or else I’ll never know why he saved me.
“You owe me an answer. You owe me…”
Another kiss.
I’m almost about to sink to my knees and rest, my entire body aching with both desperation and exhaustion, when something catches my eye.
A darkened blur looms out of the forest in front of me. The forest clears suddenly, and ahead of me I can just make out the sharp ridgeline of a roof. Taking a small faelight out of my pack, I lift it up and shake it to stir the magic. Pale silvery blue light washes over the gables of an old, weather-hardened cabin. Carved wyverns and leering goblins hiss down at me from the gables. My knees almost give out.
Thank the Darkness.
A sob catches in my throat. Against all odds, I’ve managed to lead us directly to the cabin.
My fingers are so stiff I can barely open the latch. The dark, musty scent of an unopened room meets me, but I don’t care. It’s warmer in here. Dry. And I can bar the door against the monsters tracking us, though hopefully they’ll lose our scent in the storm.
Thiago stirs as I haul him over the threshold. I slump to the floor with him half-nestled in my lap, desperately trying to see if he’s awake.
“Your Highness?”
I shake him.
Nothing.
“Thiago?”
The faintest flutter of his lashes makes me release a pent-up breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The prince stirs again, a faint groan coming from his throat.
“Vi?” he whispers.
I’m so relieved I could kiss him. “We’re safe. I found your hunting lodge. Are you in pain? Are you cold? Can you feel your fingers? Your toes?”
His head lolls to the side, his eyes rolling up in his head, but somehow, he catches hold of my fingers. The faintest smile graces his hard mouth as he rouses again. Then he winces. “Told you… that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
Of all the things….
I rest my forehead on his. “I swear to Maia that I will drop you in the nearest snowdrift—”
“No, you won’t.”
I half-laugh, half-sob. No, I won’t.
"Why? Why did you come after me? You knew the trap was there, didn't you! Why sacrifice yourself for me?"
"I made a promise," he whispers, smiling through bloodied teeth. "To always protect you."
Always? A chill runs through me, one that has nothing to do with fear. "What does that mean?"
More cursed unanswered questions.
But his eyes roll back in his head, and there is no answer.
And if I don’t move swiftly, there never will be.
14
The hunting cabin is freezing.
There are wards carved into the doorframe, ancient, ancient fae glyphs I barely recognize, but I do manage to wet them with his blood. Instantly, I feel them awaken, protecting the cabin from intruders until the magic in his blood dwindles or the glyphs weaken.
I can't feel my toes in my boots, and for a hot-blooded Asturian with summer in her veins, that’s a troubling sign. Shivering, I cross to the hearth, finding a fire already laid. The current simmers in my blood, a mere spark. I grit my teeth and call fire to life, setting the tinder blazing.
Light flares, revealing a rough-hewn log cabin decorated with heavy furniture that is draped with decadent furs. Four chairs. A table. Two chests of drawers. A bed.
It will do.
Blood stains the hard slabs of muscle in the prince’s chest, and his shoulder is ravaged. He desperately needs healing. I cut his clothes from him to examine the wounds. The edges are gray and ashen with iron poisoning. Some of the smaller gashes are working to heal themselves, but sluggish blood pools around the larger, deeper wounds.
But it’s the black bruises that decorate his arms and back that worries me. They look like teeth marks, if something with a million razor-sharp teeth that size existed.
I find a clean shirt in one of the chests and bandage his wounds as best I can. The chill of his skin bothers me the most.
There’s no possible way I can lever his enormous body up onto the bed, so I drag the quilts and blankets down onto the fur in front of the fire, creating a warm cocoon.
If I can get him dry and warm, hopefully he’ll last long enough for his people to find us.
Of all the ways I expected this day to end....
“Just so you know, I’m not trying to get you naked for my sake,” I mutter. A part of me is certain his eyes will blink open again the second I have him bare to his skin. He’ll smile at me mockingly, as if to say he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him.
Except, there is no smile.
No hint he’s even breathing beyond the faint flicker in his throat, let alone aware.
“Thiago?”
His head lolls bonelessly to the side as I release his chin.
I curse under my breath as I strip his leather breeches down his long legs. Every inch of him is bloodied and bruised with those horrible mottled suction marks, and I still can’t look at the gaping holes in his chest. It hurts too much to think of him never mocking me again.