Page 75

Emara let out a small laugh, and it banished a few of her insecurities. He had told her that she was enough. But was she? Could she be enough for Torin Blacksteel?

She hated feeling so insecure. It wasn’t something she was used to, but her trust had been broken before.

“Is that because you are a cocky bastard?” She tried to hide a smile as she pushed down her vulnerability enough for it to choke and die out.

A dark eyebrow rose in challenge to her. “Would you expect anything else?”

“I do now.” Emara lifted her chin, relaxing her shoulders. “Now that I know there is so much more to Torin Blacksteel than bloodshed, liquor, and an over-inflated ego.”

He chuckled. “You see, I always knew there was more to you. I just didn’t know if I would ever be the one to see it.”

Would he be the one to see every part of her?

“I don’t have any problems letting you learn more about me.” She allowed herself a confident smirk, even if she wavered saying it. “As long as you keep showing me all the different sides of you too.”

He let a sly grin form on his lips. “We might have a deal on our hands, Clearwater.”

Glittering white snow covered the tips and crevasses of the mountains ahead. They had made it to the north, and the sky was a silver backdrop behind the jagged highland. Riding through the forest clearings close to the mountains was breath-taking, the grandness of all of the sister mountains a colossal presence. Branches hung heavy with snow, and they passed too many to count as they began their ascent up the foot hill. It was a different kind of air that filled Emara’s lungs. It was a kind that turned her breath to frost inside her lungs, but also filled them with the purest air that she had ever taken in.

They had been riding for over an hour on a steep incline, and not much conversation had flowed between anyone. Artem looked to be staring vacantly at the view, lost in his own thoughts. Magin had been eating a handful of nuts, and Torin, well, she could still feel the rising of his chest touching her spine. But everyone was silent, except for the two voices inside her head. They were the same voices that assisted her in every thought, one with the purest intentions and the other a little darker. The quiet had allowed Emara to mull over everything that had taken place over the last few days.

The swell of her heart increased and so did her pulse.

Drawing in a breath that sliced through her lungs, she allowed herself to think about what had happened at the Waterfall of Uttara. It was the first time she properly had the time to think about it, and it was overwhelming. Everything about it had been consuming and fervent. Every part of her had burned for more of him, for his hands, for his mouth, for that relentless passion he offered.

For all of him.

Torin Blacksteel’s kiss had been claiming and so blunt with desire, thinking about it made her question everything she had ever known. It underlined how plain and simple things had been before in comparison to his kiss. A brief tensing in her core reminded her that she was, in fact, sitting in such short proximity to him on the horse that she could turn around and her body would be touching his within seconds. Her lips could be on his in that wild, craving way. The darkness in her mind nudged her forward to wrap her legs around him and run her hands through his dark, silken hair, whilst pulling her teeth over his lip—

“Why are you tensing?” the huskiness of Torin’s low voice startled her back to reality. She sent a quick prayer up to the Gods that he could not witness how red her cheeks were, or he’d know instantly exactly why she was tensing.

“Um, I am just a little sore from riding” she lied.

“Uh-huh.” The smoothness of his non-belief slid past her ear.

The heat from her embarrassment cast from her cheeks right through her body and into her heart.

It was strange, she had always reserved her heart for someone who she thought would be sensible and honest, someone who would colour within the lines and do the right thing. She had imagined giving her heart to someone who would challenge who she was but not fully rock the foundations of her soul. Emara had envisioned being with someone who wouldn’t make her question, morally, who she was or make her reconsider the bubble that she had lived in for so long. From what she had fabricated in her mind of what she had wanted, it certainly wasn’t Torin Blacksteel.

But from the moment she had kissed him, she knew it was different. For the love of Rhiannon, from the moment she had met him, she knew he was magnetic. Now, something in her had completely shifted, changing the shape of her heart entirely. She couldn’t explain why or how, she could only go by the truth that lay in her own heart. She had always wanted someone to set her soul on fire, but she had always been searching in damp ground before. Now, she was the match and Torin Blacksteel was the flame.

“When we get to the palace, will your room be close to mine?” she asked, breaking free from her deepest reflections.

“Where are your naughty little thoughts wandering to?” He chuckled from behind her, gripping the reins on the horse tighter. The horse mounted a large stone that was heavily set into the foundation of the mountain, causing her to slide back in the saddle. Her weight pressed into Torin’s chest.

“Clearly, not where yours are headed.” She rolled her eyes, hoping he could hear the roll from the sound of her voice. “I just mean will you be close to me because you are my guard?”

“Essentially, yes. But I don’t know how many people will stay for the ascension and what rooms will be available. I have only been there twice before. The Amethyst Palace is a sacred fortress, dating back to the ancient world, to the Gods. And it’s home to the supreme and her subjects. She runs it like she owns the place, but a lot of the witches will stay a while, probably until after the ascension or winter solstice.”

“You celebrate the winter solstice?” She couldn’t find the energy to hide the shock in her voice.

“Yes,” he breathed. “I don’t know why you sound so surprised. All of the magic factions do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think hunters would conform to human celebrations.”

He huffed a laugh. “I think you will find that the winter solstice, like most events, are festivals of the Gods, not the humans. The Gods celebrated these festivities long before humans even walked this world.” Torin paused. “And since we descended from a bloodline of the Gods, we celebrate them too—especially winter solstice. It has been said that Thorin was the first to exchange a gift with a human woman, giving to her a weapon to protect herself from the darkened. And that is how the tradition of gift giving on the shortest day of the year evolved.”

Emara chewed the inside of her cheek for a second. “I find it strange that Thorin would gift a human woman a weapon to defend herself, yet your faction doesn’t allow women to be hunters.”