Page 3 of A Bond of Ice and Glass (Crowned By Wings #2)

T he mist surrounds me again, wrapping around my body and pulling me in until I’m trapped in its embrace, unable to see or hear anything. Except from him. His burning leaves scent, invading all my senses, and his voice, sweeping down over me like an icy current, shocks me to my core.

“Mine,” he growls in a deep, possessive voice. “You’re mine, and I don’t share what’s mine.”

Something soft and silky brushes against my feet as I’m slowly dragged forward.

I try to open my mouth to speak, to scream at him that I don’t know him, but my lips remain shut as if they’ve been sewn together.

I’m placed on the ground, my feet sinking into a cushioned surface.

I glance down to where a wave of mist ripples around me.

Flames cover the ground, hissing and crackling, but I feel nothing when I walk through them.

“Where are you?” I can finally speak again. My voice echoes around me. “ Who are you?”

The male doesn’t reply, but somehow I know he’s close. Watching. I continue walking forward. The train of my long red dress trails behind me, wafting up flames and kicking ash into the mist.

“Why do you keep appearing in my dreams?”

There’s another rush of ice-cold air, and then a pair of hands grab me from behind. Firm, possessive hands that yank me hard against a strong, muscular body. Warmth floods me, instantly erasing the chill gnawing at my bones.

“Because I need to,” he whispers, his lips lowering by my ear. “Because I fucking want to.”

Hot breath trickles down the side of my face and neck.

The hairs lift on my skin, and a shudder rakes through me.

I should pull away from him. Fight him. Turn around and identify the man who now haunts my dreams. But all I seem capable of doing is freezing in his arms while my heart beats wildly in my chest, and a strange yet familiar warmth gathers low in my belly.

Why… why can’t I breathe all of a sudden?

Why am I not fighting him?

He trails his lips softly down my throat before rubbing his nose against my skin like he’s breathing me in. Taking in my scent.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His lips move upward again, kissing every inch they touch.

His fingers dance along the contours of my throat.

“I’ve been thinking about all the ways I’m going to kill these motherfuckers for taking you away from me.

” His lips press against the bottom of my throat while his hand roams upward, roughly turning my head to the side, his fingers digging into my cheek and jaw.

“The seas will fill with their blood for depriving me of you. Of this… Somehow none of it matters unless you come back to me.”

I want to scream at him, ‘ I don’t even know you!

’ but my words die in the back of my throat.

Or rather, they’re choked from me when his grasp suddenly tightens briefly to cut off my air supply.

Still, I don’t move. I don’t even fight him.

I’m utterly powerless in his arms, and that warmth spreading through me? It feels good.

So, so good, and familiar.

It’s the first thing that’s felt real since waking up.

“Do you remember what I told you when we first met?” he breathes against me. His voice holds a possessive growl to it. “When you tried to run away from me?”

I remember nothing, not even his name. Something keeps me from admitting that.

I shake my head and try to ignore the way my body trembles against him when he once more kisses me, his lips moving slowly along the planes of my neck.

They’re like a branding iron against me, searing my skin all the way to the space between my thighs.

An area that’s never wakened until now, igniting with a warmth so powerful it snatches the air from my very lungs.

Again I shake my head at him, unable to say anything.

He chuckles against me, his lips spreading against my flushed skin.

“That I will always find you, Maelena. Even in the mist.”

Warm, golden light stretches against my eyelids.

I pry them open slowly, and for a moment, my surroundings are unrecognisable.

Until reality slams into me again, and my stomach flips as awareness sinks back in.

I’m in Lochlan’s family home. I’ve been rescued from the Dragon King and brought here for my own safety.

The fact I can’t remember how I got here still feels utterly surreal.

And that dream… the kiss… his voice… Was he the Dragon King? No, he can’t be.

“You had me worried for a second there.” Nymala’s voice carries over to me.

I follow the direction and watch her pull the navy drapes aside.

More sunlight floods through the window and fills the room around me.

“Thought you’d died on us for good this time.

” She turns to face me, her thin brows threaded together. “How do you feel?”

“Wonderful,” I force out in a scratched voice.

My hoarse voice feels like I haven’t used my vocal cords in weeks.

Nymala snorts at my reply. “I would feel like shit too if I’d spent two days in bed.”

I blink at her, unsure if I heard correctly. “Two days ?”

“Yup. You were completely out of it,” she says. Her frown softens somewhat. “Had the place in an uproar, worried about you. I told them all to cool it. You just needed to rest.”

Guilt rushes over me. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to be is a burden to anyone.”

Especially to Lochlan. He’s already done so much for me.

I glance down at the bedsheets clinging to my body, still flushed from the dream, and swallow the saliva gathered at the back of my throat. A thick metallic taste coats the surface of my tongue. What is that…? Blood?

Nymala walks around the bed and picks up a cup from the bedside table. “It’s their job to look after you. Trust me. They’d rather be fussing over you than doing their usual work.”

She hands me the cup and then leans against the bedpost. Her dark eyes follow the movement of the cup lifting to my mouth.

“My throat feels like I’ve been sucking on desert rocks,” I say before taking a sip of the water. The sip turns into huge gulps that drain the cup in only a few seconds. Every droplet that hits my throat continues to make it burn, scratching it like I’ve swallowed a bunch of tiny razors.

Nymala huffs through her nose in a laugh. “Yeah, you can thank Magra for that. The old bat’s barely left your side. She insisted on pouring those awful potions down your throat despite my expert advice.”

I set the cup down on the table. “You’re a healer too?”

There’s a flicker of hesitation before she replies. “I dabble. At least, I used to.” She pushes off the post, and I get the sense she doesn’t want to talk about her magic. “Breakfast is over, but I grabbed you a plate. Figured if you hadn’t in fact died, you’d be hungry.”

She lifts the lid off a silver tray sitting on the table across the room.

“Some pastries, fruit, and strawberry parfait. Eggs, too, in case you liked those. I can have the cook prepare something else, if you’d rather something else?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, that sounds delicious. Thank you.”

She nods and sets the lid next to the tray. “I’d join you if I hadn’t already stuffed my gullet. Plus, I have some work to do, but I’ll be back to help you get ready.”

“Ready for what?” I ask, slowly lifting myself up.

“Master Lochlan was hoping to take you into the village, if you were feeling up to it. I did warn him you’d possibly still be too tired.

He’s been clucking outside the room ever since he couldn’t wake you.

” A wry grin stretches over her red lips.

“If he were a bird, he’d have plucked himself bald.

” Nymala glances at me, and there’s something indiscernible in her gaze.

Something I can’t really make out. “I’ve never seen Lochlan protective over someone before. ”

For some reason, the words make my heart.

I carefully throw my legs over the side of the bed. “Loch’s always been protective over me, ever since the convent.”

We were all each other had, both of our worlds torn apart and the broken pieces thrust together. I never would’ve survived the convent if it hadn’t been for Lochlan. I just don’t want to worry him anymore…

Nymala watches me stand up, and opens her mouth to speak. She closes it when there’s a sudden knock on the door. A rapid, impatient tap, tap, tap . She sighs and flicks her hair over her shoulders.

“The princess isn’t ready ye?—”

The door swinging open cuts Nymala off. Lochlan storms into the room, dressed in full regalia.

The ebony cloak draped over his shoulders sways around him as he comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room.

A huge smile lights up his face the moment he looks at me—one I can’t help but mirror back at him.

I’ve never seen Lochlan so beautifully dressed before.

The way his clothes fall off his lean body, fitting him perfectly.

Strong and lithe, so different from the rags I’m used to him wearing.

In these clothes, Lochlan looks every bit the master of the house.

“Lena, how… when did you…” His beautiful smile fades as he turns his sharp, narrowed eyes onto Nymala. “I thought I told you to come for me once she woke up!”

Nymala keeps her eyes on him but slightly lowers her head.

“Forgive me. The princess only just opened her eyes. I wanted to make sure she had something to eat that would build her strength and didn’t taste like… copper.”

Even from Lochlan’s side, I catch the flaring of his nostrils, hear the intake of air dragging sharply through them before he replies. How did she know I can taste copper?

“I’m sure the old hag will be delighted to know what you think of her remedies. That’s what you call her, isn’t it?” I blink at Lochlan’s scathing tone. “The old hag who saved Maelena’s life?”

Still looking at him, but her head lifted again, Nymala replies coolly, “Old bat, actually. But I don’t think it’s her potions causing the horrible taste. I think it’s something else, something… in the air, perhaps.”

For several moments, neither of them speak again.

Lochlan’s black-gloved hand clenches and unclenches at his side.

Then, with a sudden jerk of his head, he dismisses Nymala with such coldness that it reminds me of Sister Gabriella.

“We’ll continue this later,” he growls as she passes by him.

“Of course.” Nymala bows with a sardonic twist to her lips. “I look forward to it… Master Lochlan.”

Lochan’s hand clenches again, but he says nothing. I only realise he’s holding his breath once the door closes behind her and he releases it.

“What’s your problem with her? Why are you being so mean?”

Lochlan’s gaze cuts back to me. “Mean?” His eyes widen in surprise before narrowing again. “Nymala isn’t a guest here, Lena. She’s a prisoner .” He frowns at me. “Haven’t you seen the chain on her wrist?”

I picture Nymala in my head. She had so many unusual bracelets on her wrists it’s impossible to tell which of them was a chain.

“Apparently not. I’ve been too busy catching up on my beauty sleep,” I reply dryly. “I’ve never seen you talk to people like that. It’s… not like you. What’s going on?”

His features soften a little, as well as his voice.

“Things are different here. We’re not in the convent anymore.

There’s so much you need to learn about this place.

And there will be time to learn it. As for Nymala, she’s only here because her magic helps protect our home.

Otherwise, she’d be rotting in the dungeons where she belongs. ”

I bite my lips, and step away. My head swims as a wave of dizziness washes over me. Lochlan reaches out to steady me. I wave his hand off. It reminds me too much of the times he helped me in and out of bed after my beatings.

I take a deep breath and force myself to walk with no signs of discomfort. Surprisingly, it’s more the headache that’s bothering me now. The copper taste I can deal with, and the muscle aches, but the headache? It feels like someone’s cracked my skull open with a blade made of ice.

I make my way over to the table. “Is Nymala dangerous?”

Surely, Lochlan wouldn’t leave me alone with her if that were the case?

He reaches the table before I do and pulls out one of the chairs for me.

“Nah, just a pain in the ass. But useful. The chain on her wrist keeps her magic in check, so she can’t use it to hurt anyone. Not unless I tell her to. Or Noble does.”

I settle down into the chair. Lochlan’s hand lingers on the back of it while I pick up one of the fresh pastries and bite into it.

“So…” I dip the pastry into the bowl of parfait. “What did Nymala do to get imprisoned?”

Lochlan lifts his hands away and then walks around the table. He drops into the chair opposite me and runs a hand through his slicked back hair.

“She killed my step-father.”

I stop eating, momentarily shocked by the response.

I didn’t expect that.

“She killed him?”

“In his own bed.” He grabs a strawberry and bites into it.

A little of the juice slides to the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

He nods as he licks it with a swipe of his tongue.

“It was a while ago now.” His eyes lock on me as he finishes eating, then he lowers them down to the platter and picks up another ripe strawberry.

He holds it near his mouth. “Noble was the one who found her, hanging over him with one of her enchanted knives buried in his throat. He died in Noble’s arms.”

He tosses the strawberry into his mouth and chews. “The only reason he let her live was because her magic was too powerful to waste…”

Lochlan suddenly pauses. I look up to find his eyes widened, staring down at nothing, his pupils dilated.

“Enough of her, Lena. Do you feel strong enough for a walk? I was thinking about visiting the village. You’ll like it there. It’s been a harsh winter, but the people are strong-hearted, and there’s a market on. You always wanted to visit a market, didn’t you?”

I nod absently, still chewing the last of my pastry. “Yeah.”

“Then we’ll do it. I’ll have a carriage take us once you’re ready, then we can walk around.” He stands up, his tone excited. “I want to show you more of my home. There’s so much to see. It might not be as beautiful as your home, but it’s… Why are you laughing?”

I cover my mouth. “It’s just good to see you excited again, Loch. It’s been a long time.”

His soft brown eyes gleam down at me, the lines around them crinkling in a smile.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, “too long. But now things have changed, and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to give you everything I promised you, Lena.”

As he pulls me into his arms and kisses me on the head, I don’t feel any flutters in my stomach or a sense of elation like I used to with Lochlan.

There’s a voice in my head promising to find me.

Even in the mist.