Page 27 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)
“Stay close,” Garrick said as the acolytes shepherded us into line in a dark hallway identical to the one we’d occupied a few days before. If they wanted us to maintain our order, none of them dared argue with Garrick as he inserted himself behind me.
“You stay close,” I bit back. It sounded childish even to my own ears. Despite a full belly and the warmth of Garrick’s cloak, I had slept poorly in the temple. The brand of the Lifebind on my wrist itched like a healing wound, even though my skin was smooth.
“I have nothing to lose if you die,” I reminded him.
“Except your protection.”
I held open my hand between us, thankful for the darkness and relative quiet, which allowed me to focus my power until a dagger of ice formed in my palm, its hilt perfectly suited for my grip. “I can defend myself.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. Whether that was approval at my weapon or amusement at my arrogance, either way, it annoyed me.
“That is not what you said the other night.”
Alize laughed, the sound echoing through the darkened hallway.
Nimra looked over her shoulder, unable to ignore us any longer. The implication was enough to make me consider stabbing him with my new icy weapon.
The most irritating part was that I had been thinking of him when I fell asleep that night in the snow. It was his impossibly large hand I’d dreamed of sliding up my thigh in the moments before cracking ice had awoken me to the attack.
In the dormitory the night before, I’d tossed from side to side, sleep forestalled by the thoughts that refused to quiet.
Was Garrick as conflicted as me? Who or what had compelled him through the gates?
The more I thought on it, the more certain I was that the wellbeing of the continent of Velora was not sufficient motivation to force someone like Garrick through the gates.
He had someone or something he cared for enough to abandon a life of abundance, albeit fraught with danger.
It was just possible that there was more to Garrick than hulk and sarcasm and the next bounty.
The empathy I tried not to feel for him, the connection…
that was just as dangerous as the attraction. Intensified it, really.
Even in the dark corridor, about to walk out to the Justice Gate and whatever fresh horrors awaited, I wondered what he would taste like, if I could reach his lips if I stood on tiptoe, or if I’d have to thread my hands into his hair and tug him down…
A low chuckle filled the heavy air between us. The thought of stabbing him sounded better again. But if I had his protection, I’d be foolish not to take advantage of it.
So I hissed through my teeth instead.
Garrick stared down at me, pinning me in place with that intensity that I still had not found a way to escape.
He didn’t flinch away. His pupils widened—because the corridor was dark and his eyes were adjusting—not because of any rush of feeling or attraction.
Despite the traitorous responses of my body, Garrick had shown absolutely no indication that the physical feelings were reciprocated.
And there was more than a little bite to his tone as he leaned into my space, completely unintimidated by me, and said, “Charming.”
I gave him the back of my head.
Which earned another infuriating chuckle so low, I was certain I was the only one who could hear it.
Varian appeared at the front of the line, which acted as some sort of silent signal to the acolytes. We all moved out the door, the walls of green cloaks on either side guiding us. Tomin winked from my left before putting on his composed mask of neutrality.
I pulled my cloak—Garrick’s cloak—tight over my shoulders as we exited into the frigid morning.
At the Mercy Gate, we’d emerged into a different world, the buildings of Canmar wiped away by the gods.
The Justice Gate did the same. Gone were the woods we’d trudged through the day before.
The acolytes took up places behind us, forcing all the supplicants to turn and face the rising edifice.
The stone wall was unremarkable. Unlike the wall of ice, it did not expand outward endlessly in either direction.
There was a round tower at each corner, crenulations overhead.
A perfectly ordinary curtain wall in the standard configuration of a stone fortress.
The Justice Gate was even wide open, the portcullis pulled up to allow passage.
But I spotted easily what the others, with their human eyes, could not.
Dangling just inside the gate was a noose.