Page 35 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter thirty-three

Nahla

I dream of the hole in the basement floor, gaping wide like a mouth of razored teeth.

Creatures of the night crawl out and haunt the castle, scratching their long nails on my door.

Digging ruts in the wood. Claws screeching.

High-pitched and piercing, like gulls on the wind.

And the Frost King stands there, watching but doing nothing.

I wake sweaty, tangled by silken sheets and pillows.

With a gasp, I tear from the bed and drag the curtain open. It’s not quite dawn. Thick gray clouds blanket the horizon and enshroud the glacial bowl.

I pull a fresh night-robe from the wardrobe and cinch its belt at my waist. With a match, I light a candle. My heart keeps time with the adrenaline from my nightmare. If I could just check the hole, I could return to sleep…

Lifting my candle to dispel the shadows, I turn the doorknob and push into the hallway. A figure stirs next to the door. Perrin’s slouched form squints into the light, then raises a hand to shield his eyes.

“Nahla?”

“Sorry, Perrin. Just going for a walk.”

He yawns, his mouth puckering. “Sorry, no can do.” His forearm drops to block my path.

“Pardon?”

“King’s orders, as of this morning. You’re not to leave your room.”

His words scramble like bumblefish in my brain. Not to leave…? Then it clicks.

“I’m a prisoner again, aren’t I?”

The youngling nods solemnly.

“Then why is my door unlocked?” I press.

He blushes, then checks the keys at his hip. “Right.”

“Perrin,” I say, keeping my tone as even as I can manage. “I’d like a word with the king.”

Perrin makes a show of unhooking his keys and fitting one into the lock. He gives me a gentle push into the room. “Sorry, Princess, I’m under strict orders.” As the door clicks shut, I hear him mutter once more, “Sorry, Nahla.”

I lean against the door with a heavy thud and survey my new prison. Godsdammit. This shit again? What did I say to him last night to piss him off so badly? Was it the stupid dick joke?

The guest suite is better than an ice block, that’s for sure. I’ve got a dwindling fire, a stack of books, a washroom, a warm bed, and a view of the sun. Technically, he fulfilled all my initial requests.

How chivalrous .

How fucking arrogant.

I thought we had a moment last night. I shared my secrets and he…

Well, he let me overshare, that’s what, and he didn’t return the favor. Just some heavy breathing and a lot of staring at my breasts. Fuck, I should’ve seen it coming.

I pace the floor, determined to track a trench in it. There’s no telling how long I’ll be here. And I won’t waste the rest of my life following that Frosted Fiasco’s silly rules.

As I wait for Deirdre to arrive, I form my escape plan.

The housekeeper dresses me, feeds me, and leaves me with a full tea pot and a stoked fire, muttering apologies all the while. I assure her it’s no problem, better than the ice dungeon, and this seems to soothe her a bit.

As soon as she leaves, I set to work.

The sheets come off the bed easily. I roll them and tie them together with double knots, then yank the curtains next. Soon enough, I’ve fashioned a rope long enough to lower me from the window.

After anchoring the rope to the heavy bed, I check the window. The latch is jammed. I cram my fingers trying to move the mechanism and give up when I rip a fingernail. Shit.

I need a club, or something heavy enough to break through. The iron fire poker catches my eye. That’ll work. If all goes well, I won’t be staying here much longer. I heft it and swing at the glass. It shatters with a delightful tinkle, spraying shards into the snow-drenched alley below.

My heart pounds. Perrin certainly heard that. Pausing, I strain my ears for any sense of his movement. But nothing comes.

Quickly, I slip my feet into the snowleathers Deirdre set out for me.

Then I stuff the rope out the window and, avoiding broken glass, crawl out the jagged hole after it.

My wool skirts snag on the glass, and I yank them free with a rip of the cloth.

I clench the rope with my legs, and inch my way past a window, praying to the gods the room is empty.

My heart beats loud enough in my ears, I won’t be able to hear them if they shout.

Finally, I land in a snowbank next to the first-floor window, feet sinking deep. A shadow moves inside, and I duck, face-planting into the snow.

The cold flares, spreading through my body, and I hiss. How do these Frost fuckers live like this? Their climate is terrible. Give me sunshine and thunderstorms any day. A warm ocean breeze rattling through the palmwoods or the call of squawkbirds in the air. Will I ever hear home again?

Not if I stand still.

Crouching beneath the windowsill, I wade through the snow. A few pieces of glass have cut my skin, and I curse my stupidity. I’m a shit escape artist. My blood leaves speckles in the snow, right next to my obvious footprints.

No time to cover my tracks. The alley skirts the side of the castle. With a quick glance, I try to check the position of the sun, but the sky is cloudy, and I can’t determine east from west.

I’ll have to circle the building and sneak in the back gate. Then to the basement. Find that hole. Uncover its secrets…

Gritting my teeth, I hike my skirts and tiptoe through the snow. I duck beneath windows as I pass them, hugging the wall. When I cross the length of the castle without incident, my pride swells.

Look at me go, a good spy after all.

The alley empties into a gated courtyard, where rows of tents circle a central area paved in stone.

Beyond, several clusters of ice-built homes form an orderly perimeter against the steep walls of the glacial bowl.

A wave of voices hits me as the wind shifts in my direction.

The cold slams into me, and I hug my arms to my chest.

Commotion stirs at the far end of the yard. A fur-clad group of merfolk wrangle several large, white-furred snowbears. The bears’ paws slip on the stone walkway, and the whites of their eyes show their fear.

One snowbear rears its legs, paws swiping. The animal-handlers shout and duck, grasping for ropes that hang from its furry muzzle. One handler cracks a whip against the ground, and the bear roars.

Merfolk stop to stare. Snow falls from several sapwood limbs, shaken from its perch. Silence settles in the courtyard, the only noise the bear’s protesting snarl.

My vision tunnels, focused on the rearing bear. It balks, ripping the ropes from its handler’s hands. Lumbering into the street, it searches for an escape.

I may be a foreigner in this kingdom, but I know how to treat an animal. This is not right. And I will not stand for cruelty.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale a steadying breath. No, Nahla. Let it go. I have places to be. Escaping to do. I can’t risk being seen just to save a helpless—

Fuck it. This animal needs me. Stepping out of the alley, I plant my feet.

I cluck my tongue, stir my magic, and send my Voice spiraling after the snowbear. I pierce the shell of its mind and plunge into the chaos. A full-grown female. Through her eyes, I see the stone path, feel her frustration. Anger. Fear.

The whip cracks again, and the animal’s flinch reverberates through my body.

Be still, I command.

The bear skids to a halt.

She swings her head, searching. Then she focuses on me, the whites of her eyes disappearing. Curiosity. Calm.

That’s it, girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Now, come find me.

Eagerly, the snowbear saunters across the square, dragging the handler’s ropes with her.

My song echoes through the air. Merfolk swivel their heads to stare, stepping back as the snowbear saunters through the center of the courtyard.

The handler shouts, then cracks the whip.

She flinches and breaks her stride, but I soothe her fear.

I’ve got you.

She stops before my outstretched hand and presses her soft forehead into my palm. Her dark eyes soften. I stroke her large face, her whiskered muzzle, and scratch behind each round ear. Humming quietly, I withdraw our connection.

Whispers break out among my audience, and my stomach flips. Behind the snowbear’s furry form, I glimpse a male siren, stalking toward me.

Oh, I fucked up.

I’m not supposed to be here. If word gets to the king, Perrin could be reprimanded.

“Go,” I whisper, giving the bear an affectionate pat.

As much as I want to turn his own whip on that handler, I’m out of time.

Now, it’s time to disappear. I bolt the way I came, speeding through the alley.

Adrenaline burns through my veins, pushing me onward.

No time to find the beach. My makeshift rope still dangles from a second-story window somewhere.

I can patch the glass when I get inside, pretend this whole mess didn’t happen.

I’ll need something to do in confinement—

A sharp note sounds behind me, and ice curls around my ankles, stopping me in my tracks.

My jaw snaps from the sudden halt in momentum. Securely rooted to the ground, I tug each foot but can’t budge. My scales prickle with awareness of the looming figure behind me.

“Going somewhere, Trouble?” His footsteps crunch the snow, growing closer. His scent carries on the wind, that damn hint of peppermint.

My heart punches in a frantic rhythm. My core clenches, and I hiss through my teeth.

Gods, this cannot be happening.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again. Anything to wake myself from this nightmare. I look over my shoulder.

And there, smirking at me, is the Frost King.

I give him a finger-wiggle wave. “Your Frostiness.”

“What did you do to poor Perrin?” He takes another step, shortening the gap between us. He flexes his jaw, a quick disruption to the sharp plane of his cheek.

My stomach flips. “Is Perrin okay?”

The king cocks his head. A few more steps, and he’ll reach me. I wrench against the restraints to no use.

“Strange how I tasked him with keeping you inside your room. Yet, here you stand. Charming snowbears. I assume you knocked him out cold? Should I call for Lucas?”

“Nope. I took the window, like a lady.” I shrug. His gaze flicks over my shoulder, no doubt spotting my makeshift rope dangling through the broken glass.

“Don’t you have everything you need? Everything you asked me for? Tell me, what have I overlooked?” He sounds troubled, genuinely concerned.

How infuriating. How fucking accommodating . Where was this willingness weeks ago, when he locked me in the dungeon? He’s giving me whiplash.

He stops inches behind me, and his breath skitters on my neck. My skin cries out, every scale standing in alert. If I tilted my ass, I’d meet his lap.

I inhale sharply. No, Nahla. Attractive males always come with a catch. Every. Damn. Time. And this one? He harbors a dark secret, lying in wait to ruin me.

“You’re insufferable,” I hiss. “This sudden sweetheart routine won't work on me.”

“Is it not?” he asks, breath ghosting the top of my head. His hand hovers next to my arm, fingers stretching, then retreating. “Working, that is.”

Finally, his thumb brushes my woolen sleeve. My eyelids flutter. “Let go.”

“I can’t do that, Princess. You know the rules.

” He trails up my arm, over my shoulder.

His hand finds the warmth of my throat, long fingers wrapping around.

His touch is cold and smooth, like frosted glass, as he strokes the length of my voice box.

“Your Voice is impressive. Tell me, where did you learn such power?”

“Tell me,” I retort, “why I should reveal all my secrets when you share none of yours?” My pulse batters against him, rapid and eager.

He chuckles. “My secrets would scare you, Princess.”

“Try me.”

“All right,” he says. His finger trails lower, ghosting over the hidden marks of my gills, the rim of my collar bone. “I’m a terrible king.”

“That’s no secret,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “It doesn’t count.”

“The secret is, I prefer it that way.” His touch grows still, lingering on the hollow of my throat.

“A king who doesn’t like to rule.”

“Aethan the Terrible,” he muses. “And the princess who ran from home. What will everyone do, when they finally learn our truth?”

His icy breath tickles the side of my neck, and my scales lift. What’s left of my stubborn resolve disappears in an instant.

“I learned it from Keen, our way-maker,” I answer finally. “I can enter the minds of animals and communicate with them. Persuade them. Sway their emotions, like I did with the snowbear just now.”

He hums, the sound rumbling through his chest into my body. “Sounds useful. Better than making it snow.” The rumble strengthens, forming a low note of magic. Several snowflakes fall from thin air, dusting my face with glitter.

I laugh. “I like your snow. When it’s not trapping my ankles.”

He grunts, and the magic melts from around my feet. I stand still, held in place by that finger, pressing softly into my pulse. I swallow, and my throat bobs against it.

“What do you say to helping me tomorrow? I’m leading a hunt. My terrible reputation hinges on its success.” He squeezes my neck gently.

Fuck. I don’t want him to stop touching me. A tingle passes from head to toe as my skin cries out for more.

“What do I get in return?” I whisper.

“A little fresh air and a chance to stretch your legs? You’re a beast-tamer, and a good one, too. Say you’ll help me, Nahlani Mahelona. Come with me. I—” His voice catches, dropping into a growl. “I need—”

His touch grows cold against my skin. He peels his fingers away. A swath of blue scales coats his fingertips, midnight blue, like he’s dipped them in ink.

I turn my head, glancing at him through my lashes. His eyes are wild with emotion, darkening each iris. His jaw clenches, nostrils flare. And when he meets my gaze, he groans. A deep, beastly rumble. Like thunder over the open ocean.

“You need me ,” I finish for him in a breathless sigh, a smile tugging my lips. “And lucky for you, Frosty, I’m in.”