Page 35 of Omen of ice
“We’ll both survive the ride.” I point toward the outskirts of the village, where we left the horses. “We can make it back to the estate before morning if we leave now and ride hard.”
“Ride hard?” he says with a snort. “You just said we should take it easy! You don’t look like you can get into the saddle, much lessride hard.”
“I’m an Aphelian, Valen. I’m used to doing unpleasant things. I’ll be fine.”I hope.
I start moving forward, and when he doesn’t follow, I stalk back to where he stands, a few feet from our frozen Fae attacker. He’s probably dead, but just to make sure…
Drawing my sword, I swing. A single, brutal blow that shatters the ice and sends bits and pieces of frozen Fae scattering about. It costs me, and I know I don’t hide the cringe as well as I want to, but I don’t care.
“There.Much better.”
Now we just need to get back to the estate without anyone else trying to kill us.
12
Valen
We’re just over three hours into the trip home and still haven’t spoken about the attack in the woods. I wrapped my own wound after tending to hers, then waited for her to explain. So far, she’s said nothing. Guess I’ll start. “Obviously, we have some things to talk about…”
She sighs but stays silent.
“Look, we’re going to need to be on the same page when we arrive home. About the attack…and what happened after it.”
“I don’tunderstandwhat happened.”
“Neither do I.” I glance down. A slight throb in my gut needles me. It’s enough to make me squirm, which means she must be in excruciating pain. “The sword that pierced me didn’t make contact with you. How is it possible that you were injured?”
Her gaze remains focused on the path ahead. She’s stiff in the saddle, and every so often she closes her eyes and inhales deeply while pressing her lips tight. “As I said, I’m not sure.”
“Is it possible we—”
Her skin is pale, but her breathing seems more even than when we started out. “Do you love the sound of your own voice so much that you can’t go five minutes without hearing it?”
“You should hear my singing voice.”
She growls and nudges her horse into a faster walk.
“Tania—” I catch up to her.
“Keltania,” she says, exasperated. “But you should be calling me Aphelian.”
“If it truly bothers you, I will call you—”
“It’s fine.” She sighs. “There’s nothing conventional about this assignment, so why not.”
“Good. Because Tania suits you better.” A nudge of my heel, and my horse speeds up a bit, pulling away from hers. Once I’m a few feet ahead, I slow and step into her path. “You need to tell me what happened back there. You might not knowexactly, but I get the impression you have a theory.”
She sighs, and some of the tension in her shoulders eases. The stiff set of her jaw slackens, and her head tips back. “The only explanation is that I made a…mistake…when inking you.”
The disgust in her voice makes me cringe. The self-loathing I hear is a blow to my chest. She’s been trained for a single purpose from the time she could walk, and clearly the thought that she isn’t up to the task terrifies her.
I know—because I feel the same thing. My magic could save the Winter Fae, yet what if I’m not strong enough? What if I’m discovered and manipulated somehow? After what happened with Kitara, it’s all I can think about. How many would have suffered because I trusted the wrong person?
“Seemed like a pretty complicated mark.” The need to make her feel better is like a fog creeping in. Heavy, thick, and impossible to ignore. “Besides, you did have a colossal distraction that morning.”
“Huh?”
I gesture to myself. “I was shirtless. Obviously, the sight of me caused your thought process to lapse.”
