Page 20 of Blood Beneath the Snow (Blood & Souls Duology #1)

20

The days following were heavy with tension.

Things had changed between us again in another unspoken way—far too similar to when we’d first returned from spying on my family’s camp. Then I hadn’t been sure what to make of his kindness, the way he’d softened around me. Now, when every interaction turned into a spat, it was easy.

The Hellbringer was frustrated.

Our tender moment of dancing had been electrifying. But when he reminded me of the barrier between us, his hidden identity, the duties we both needed to put first…he might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water over me.

I refused to become tangled in something so messy. Not now, when my complete focus had to be on the Trials. And especially not when the person I wanted wouldn’t even show me his face.

I understood his reasoning. But it wasn’t enough.

He seemed determined to punish me for it. Or perhaps he was punishing himself; there was no way to be certain.

Sparring against the Hellbringer was nothing like sparring with Halvar. The pub owner had been precise but slow—something I didn’t realize until the Hellbringer began to spar against me with a speed and intensity I’d never seen before.

The past two nights I’d gone to bed sore, my muscles aching so badly that I woke multiple times. Yesterday, I demanded he take me to the hot springs again for a long soak. He didn’t seem inclined to acquiesce, but I knew my facial expression conveyed what my words didn’t: if he didn’t take me to the gods-damned hot springs that instant, I would use the sword he had helped me make to end his sorry life.

The water helped my muscles recover. I no longer felt like every part of my body was swollen. Visiting the hot springs had the added benefit of giving me the chance to wash the set of clothing the Hellbringer lent me the last time we were there. I was sad to see it go—it was ridiculously comfortable—but it was more satisfying to see his hands clench at his sides when I returned the sopping-wet pile of fabric to him.

If he wanted to fight dirty, I would fight right back.

There was no morning sun to shine over us as we sparred today. Only flickering firelight that reminded me too much of our dance together.

Sweat poured down my forehead, forcing me to blink it out of my eyes or risk giving the Hellbringer an opening. I couldn’t stand to let him win—not today. Not when he was acting like an ass.

After a particularly rough clash of our swords, my thin patience fractured. “What the fuck is your problem?” He pretended not to hear me.

The next strikes came with enough blunt force behind them to make me stagger. More than once I had to leap out of reach of his blade. Even parrying took all my energy. Before long, I was exhausted once more.

My hands twisted along the leather covering Aloisa’s hilt and I swore. “Why are you acting like such a man-child right now? If you have something to say, then say it!”

“ No ,” he snapped, finally stopping. I followed his lead, lowering my guard slightly. Was he going to finally explain what was happening in his head?

If only. “Your hands are wrong.” He stepped over to me and I wordlessly held out my hands, wrapped around the hilt of my sword. It took all my willpower not to snap at him for his rough readjustment.

“There,” he said finally. “Again.”

“You were the one who told me never to fight angry.”

“Again.”

I planted my feet and raised my blade. As I adjusted, grit scraped beneath the soles of my boots.

We fell into the rhythm of war once more.

Fury fueled each of his movements—I knew because the Hellbringer’s swings became sloppy and wild, the way mine had been when we first started training.

For the first time since we’d started training together, I was afraid of him.

Was this battle real? Was my life in danger?

He lunged, plunging the sword down from above his shoulder. I swung mine up to meet it. They connected with a clang and I shifted my weight to the left, kicking out with my right foot to try and connect with his ribs.

He stepped back, lithe as a wildcat, and moved toward me again, twisting with his strike. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. But my core tension slipped enough to take me off-balance, and a wave of panic surged through me. I exhaled in a whoosh as pain erupted across the top of my arm and veered into my shoulder, the impact of his blade in my flesh pushing me to the ground.

The world blurred around me as my shoulder connected with the floor. An uncontrollable spasm wracked my body and I let out a cry. My right hand went to my injured shoulder on instinct, but I didn’t feel the touch—only the blood seeping through my fingers.

“Shit.” The Hellbringer was on his knees at my side in seconds, lifting me into his arms. “Shit, I didn’t— I’m so sorry.”

The world blurred. I struggled to keep my eyes open. A fuzzy figure approached me, humming a familiar melody. Frode? I cringed when my arm moved. My mind buzzed with questions fueled by panic. How bad was the wound? How much blood had I lost?

I slammed my eyes closed as a wave of nausea washed over me. I would not throw up on the Hellbringer; it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Take us,” I heard him say, and before I knew what had happened, my stomach lurched again, the way it had when I was first transported to the prison—like I’d been flipped upside down and turned inside out.

A gust of cold wind hit my face and I curled into the Hellbringer’s chest to shield myself from it. Through the pain, one thought reverberated: Outside. I’m outside.

I heard noises I couldn’t identify: shuffling and thudding and murmuring. But I did hear the Hellbringer shout, “I need a healer now !”

I tried opening my eyes, but nausea swept over me once more and I had to turn my head to vomit in the snow. Dizzy. I was so dizzy.

Clinging to consciousness with everything I had wasn’t enough. Moments after emptying my stomach, the darkness swept me away.

I faded in and out for what must have been several hours, the whole time dreaming of a melody I couldn’t escape. It repeated itself over and over until I was lost in the jumble of notes and sounds.

The first time I dared open my eyes, a familiar face hovered over me.

“Volkan?” I whispered, tilting my head. I must be hallucinating.

But he offered me a grim smile. “Nice to see you, Revna. How about we get this healed up for you?” He muttered something under his breath and reached out to touch my wound.

I couldn’t feel a difference through the pain.

He laid a hand on the gash and I looked over. A giant chunk of my flesh was missing. Strange, to look at your own body and see brokenness. Every falling drop of blood rang in my ears, played the next note in the song hovering just close enough for me to hear.

As soon as he touched my arm, the pain began to subside. I sighed with relief. Slowly, the muscle and blood vessels started weaving their way back together, prompted by Volkan’s magic. It itched and burned, but as tears filled my eyes, I was grateful.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice raspy. I must have screamed even while I was unconscious.

“We’ll talk about that later,” he said with a gentle smile. He pressed something against my lips. “Now chew. It’ll help with the pain.”

I obeyed, and then I swam in stars again.

I drifted awake in the darkness. Night enveloped my surroundings like a lover’s embrace.

With a gasp, I reached for my shoulder. There was nothing but smooth skin where there had once been a gaping wound. I looked around but couldn’t see anything. “Where am I?” I mumbled, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“You’re awake.” One of the lanterns was lit and the Hellbringer was revealed, sitting in a chair on my left, watching over me with his mask on.

He looked like an omen of death. Fitting. In my hazy state of mind, I giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

I shook my head. He wouldn’t get it. “I don’t like your mask. Take it off.” My brain swam in dizziness and a part of me knew I wouldn’t remember this in the morning. What had Volkan given me?

He was silent for a moment. “I can’t.”

I groaned. “But I want to see your face.” I turned to lie on my side, curling up under the warm blankets. “Will you come lie next to me?”

Several seconds passed before I heard him stand and then slide into the bed next to me. But he didn’t curl up against me like he had when we shared the bed during the storm; this time he lay flat on his back, arms folded over his chest.

I rolled my eyes, moving closer to him and laying my head on his chest. I carefully moved my now healed arm over his abdomen and hooked our ankles together. He stiffened but I didn’t care.

My brain was mush. Before I had the chance to say another word, I drifted to sleep once more.

The next time I awoke, I heard murmurs of voices I recognized.

“Thank you for coming.” The Hellbringer.

“Yeah, about that.” Volkan. There was the sound of a glass being set on a table. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, asking me to come here? Sending your soldier into Faste? To the palace, no less. You’re lucky the teleporter isn’t dead. Scared the shit out of my guards.”

There was silence. I cracked my eyes open to see the inside of the dimly lit tent. The Hellbringer and Volkan sat at a small table facing the entrance, looking out to where the stars shone and a fire flickered in the middle of camp. The masked general looked out of place next to Volkan—so open and easy to smile. I spied a layer of snow on the ground, but somehow the bed was warm.

“I wasn’t thinking,” the Hellbringer said, his voice quiet. “I panicked. It was my fault and…” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t watch her die. You were the only one I trusted. You’re the best healer the Fjordlands has ever seen.”

I watched Volkan take a long sip of a drink. He sighed and ran a hand over his short curls. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Sleep fogged the edges of my mind, but I was startled to hear Volkan snap. I’d only known him as kind and empathetic, never harsh.

“I’m not.” The Hellbringer clenched his fists where they rested on the arms of his chair.

“You have feelings for her,” Volkan said. “Don’t deny it.”

Shock coursed through me. What was Volkan saying?

But the Hellbringer’s words startled me more. “I couldn’t deny it if I wanted to.”

My eyes widened. I lay quietly, careful not to make a sound.

“Why is she with you, anyway?” Volkan asked. “I thought she was at the front.”

“I kidnapped her.”

“Of course you did.” Volkan rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Why are you like this?”

The Hellbringer turned his head so fast, I worried he would snap his own neck. “You know damn well why I’m like this.”

Volkan stood. “I need to go. If anyone notices I’m missing, there will be panic. The king and queen will raise an alarm.”

The Hellbringer stood and left the tent, presumably to find Mira. Volkan glanced back at me.

I shut my eyes, but not fast enough. “You’re awake.”

When I cracked my eyes open, he was at my side.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered. “I thought you weren’t dating him anymore.”

A shocked laugh escaped him. “He told you we used to date? He’s more gone for you than I realized.” He rested a hand on my cheek and gave me a soft smile. “Come home and we will talk. I’ll be in Bhorglid for the Trials. For now, I have to go.” He glanced toward the tent flap. No movement there. “You’ll be safe with him. There’s no need to worry, despite how much he wants you to. Don’t let him intimidate you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let the murderer intimidate me. Great advice.”

Volkan rolled his eyes. “I see kidnapping has done nothing to dampen your shimmering personality. Let me see your shoulder one more time before I go.”

I moved the tunic to the side, and he ran gentle fingers over where the slice had been. There was nothing—no shadow of pain or injury. “I must say, that’s some of my best work,” he murmured. “You’ll be good as new in the morning. Get a good night’s sleep and it shouldn’t bother you at all. Next time you’re training, be more careful.”

Volkan moved toward the entrance of the tent, ducking out and leaving me alone in the dim light.

I sat up, wrapping my arms around myself. Perhaps I was reading into things, but it seemed like a rash move to send Mira into foreign territory simply to bring Volkan here. But my thoughts didn’t dwell on the matter for long before they drifted to the Hellbringer.

Volkan had said the Hellbringer had feelings for me.

And he hadn’t denied it.

I lay back on the bed, one pillow behind my head and another in my arms. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw a faint memory—my head nestled against the Hellbringer’s chest, my arm draped over him.

My eyes flew open again. Shit. Had I honestly been so delirious I’d asked him to stay with me while I slept?

The tent flap opened to reveal the Hellbringer and I sat up again, my heart beating too fast. For a moment he just stood there, the two of us staring at each other.

“I want to apologize,” he said finally, stepping to the side of the bed and sitting in the chair next to it. I wondered how long I’d been unconscious—whether the chair had been occupied for most of that time. Something within me already knew the answer. “For injuring you. I was careless and angry, and you suffered for it.”

My cheeks flushed. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, leaning against the makeshift headboard. For a war front tent, these were nice accommodations. “It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” He shook his head. “I’ve spent days stewing over everything. You asked me for something I wanted to give you and, not being able to acquiesce…” I watched his throat bob. “It’s been eating away at me. It was easier to blame you, to be angry, to convince myself you were asking too much. And then we were sparring and you were…” The Hellbringer huffed a laugh. “Everything. You asked what the fuck my problem was and I wanted to toss my weapon down and pin you against the wall and just…”

A loaded silence fell over the tent. Before I had any inkling of how to respond, how to feel in the wake of his confession— Pin me against the wall and what ? my thoughts demanded—he continued. “Even when I’m not using my Lurae, people are in danger from me. It’s no wonder they’re all afraid.”

I didn’t know what possessed me, but something in his voice sounded like longing, despite the distortion. I reached out and laid my hand on top of his. He lifted his head.

“I am not afraid of you,” I whispered.

“Don’t lie,” he said bitterly. “I could have killed you at any point. I saw the fear in your eyes from the moment I arrived on the battlefield. You’ve heard the stories.”

“I didn’t say I’ve never been afraid of you,” I chuckled. “Only that I’m not anymore. And besides, everyone has heard the stories.”

He tilted his head and shrugged. “I suppose some of them are true.”

Honesty burst from me despite my instincts. “I don’t want you to take me back when you’re done training me.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I’m enjoying my time with you,” I said hurriedly. Meeting the eyes of the mask was an impossible task, so I continued staring at my hands. “Here I’m your equal. Not your pawn, the way I am my father’s. And if I do win, the corruption in Bhorglid runs deep. Becoming queen is the beginning. We would have a long road ahead of us.”

There was a pause. “?‘Us’?”

I felt my face turn red. “No, I didn’t mean—not like that. I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for.”

I glanced at him. There were things I missed about seeing the sun every day, but I had meant what I said. If the choice were up to me, I would stay with the Hellbringer. I wondered if he would want to stay with me.

If I were to become queen, could we be together?

“Tell me something true?” I asked tentatively. He nodded, and I continued: “What will your life look like? When the war is over. When you don’t have to be the Hellbringer anymore.”

He tilted his head. “Will that time ever come?” he asked. “If I am not a war machine, then I am an assassin. Another tool in the queen’s pocket. I will remain in Kryllian as her weapon until she sees fit to let me go. If that ever occurs.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. When this ended, he would remain under the control of another. Still the most powerful man in the Fjordlands. Still a weapon to be wielded.

“I don’t envy you,” I said.

“Well, I don’t envy you ,” he replied. “Trying to kill your most powerful brothers with only a month of training under your belt. The odds aren’t good.”

“Would you go back?” I whispered. “If you were me?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I think you should. You’re a good person.”

“I have no interest in being a good person,” I scoffed. “I only have interest in liberating my people.”

“Some of your people,” he corrected. I glared at him. He chuckled.

“You’re joking.” I smiled. “You hardly ever joke with me.”

“I want to. But this”—he gestured at his helmet—“dictates I shouldn’t…get attached. To anyone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re attached to me?”

He looked at the floor. “Yes.”

My eyes widened.

“I know you were awake,” the Hellbringer said. “You don’t need to deny it. You heard what I said to Volkan. What he accused me of.”

I swallowed. My pulse pounded incredibly fast, want curling in my stomach. The question of what he’d wanted to do after he pinned me to the wall was back in full force.

He sighed, and for a moment honesty overwhelmed his barriers, too. “I know I am not the kind of person you would ever feel for. It would be stupid of you to pretend. But, Revna, you fascinate me. I dream of being good enough for you.”

I stared at him, silent.

He cleared his throat, as if suddenly realizing what he’d admitted. “I’ve treated you poorly. You didn’t deserve that. Fear has been holding me back.”

“Holding you back?” My voice was breathless, a faint thing against the warmth of the firelight. “From what?”

The next moments seemed to pass in slow motion.

He stood, stepping over to close the tent flaps, making sure they were secure. Once he’d returned to his chair, the Hellbringer ran a hand over the front of the wolf skull mask, then slid the other hand down the side and pressed a latch. It clicked, loud against the backdrop of silence, and then he pulled it off to reveal his bare face beneath.

The first thing I noticed was his hair, a chestnut-dark mop he had to brush off his forehead. This revealed his eyes, dark gray and penetrating, even as they flitted away from my own, as if nervous to make contact. To acknowledge the vulnerability laid out in front of us.

Heartbeat in my throat, I traced every one of his features with my eyes like a starving woman. Gods, I wanted to touch him. His cheekbones, high and sharp, contrasted with the softness of his plush lips. Dark brows furrowed against his forehead. I resisted the urge to smooth the lines there.

“I trust you, Revna.” He still wasn’t looking at me. His lower lip trembled slightly, and I knew his knuckles were white beneath his gloves from how tightly he clutched the mask. The distortion in his voice was gone; he sounded like a man now, not a monster. “And what I feel for you…it’s brighter than the sun in the sky. I don’t believe in gods, but I would if it meant I could deserve you.”

Here his eyes finally flicked up to mine. “Maybe we can never be together. Maybe you’ll never want me back, not the way I want you. Because, fuck, I can’t explain how much I think about you. Nothing has ever torn me apart the way you do. And—”

I leapt from the bed to stand between his knees, pressing my hands to his shoulders. My injured arm let out a ghostlike throb, but I ignored it, sliding my fingers up his neck and over his sharp jawline. There was a hint of stubble there, scratching my palm. His eyes were full of something intangible—longing, or maybe anticipation.

Bending down, I pressed my lips to his.

Gods, they were just as soft as I hoped they’d be. His hands, which had been frozen to the helmet, seemed to thaw, moving to push the mask to the ground, wrap around my waist, and pull me closer, tug me down until I had no choice but to clamber onto his lap.

Soft, exploratory brushes of our lips turned hungry with an unfamiliar swiftness. I scraped my nails against his scalp gently, gently, and the answering groan set me alight.

The Hellbringer kissed like he sparred—the moment I seemed to have the upper hand, he retaliated, teeth nipping at my lower lip and making me gasp.

“ Fuck. ” He moved his mouth to my jaw, my throat, and I arched against him. “I refuse to have you for the first time in a tent where anyone in camp can hear us. But please know I desperately want to.”

I sighed, unsure whether it was from the pleasure of succumbing to my desire or frustration from knowing this was as far as we would be going tonight. Petty, I ground against him, and the satisfaction of feeling him hard beneath me, straining against his pants, was perfection.

“Unfair,” he gasped, and in response I chuckled.

“No part of this has been fair,” I murmured, pulling back to look into his eyes. There was the barest hint of a smile beneath the contentment on his face, and it made me want to kiss him again.

“I know.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “I hope this is enough to make up for it. Now get back into bed. That shoulder of yours still needs rest.”

I obliged, clambering off him to return to the mattress but tugging at his hand until he acquiesced and joined me there, curling up next to me under the blankets. We faced each other and I drank him in. It was intoxicating, seeing him without the mask. The slope of his nose, the flush in his cheeks, the flutter of his lashes—it all painted a picture of him I’d never seen before.

Then I realized something. “What’s your name?”

His smile was soft. I wondered if this would feel like nothing more than a dream tomorrow. “S?ren.”

I hummed. “It suits you.” Deep within me, I heard a chastising voice. What are you thinking? He is the Hellbringer. You have no future with him.

As I rolled over, I shoved the voice away. And as we settled on our sides, his arm around my waist, I intertwined my fingers with his and decided I would care about the consequences tomorrow.