Page 59 of Blood of Wolves

Do you know that I threw myself at a prince last night?

Will you forgive me?

Do I want you to?

Náli wet dry lips and said, “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Mattias cleared his throat, and maybe it was Náli’s imagination, but his voice sounded strange. “I wanted to wish you safe travels, my lord. And to give you this.” He lifted the sword.

Náli stepped forward, reaching for it.

But Mattias ducked his head and said, “If you’ll allow me, my lord.”

His men always buckled him into his armor – Klemens had done so only minutes ago in his room, cinching pauldrons and greaves and fastening his cloak with a skull-shaped pin set with diamonds. But he wasn’t prepared for the way his stomach flipped when Mattias closed the gap between them, lifted his cloak out of the way, and reached around his waist to secure the sword belt – low on his hips, just the way he liked.

It wasn’t possible, but Náli imagined he felt the heat of Mattias’s fingertips through his layers of wool and mail; definitely felt the stuttered heat of Mattias’s breath against his face as the buckle clicked and clanked and finally was fastened.

Mattias didn’t draw back right away, as he should have. As was proper. He lingered a moment, breath steaming between them, head still ducked so that Náli couldn’t see the look in his eyes, fingertips hooked in the sword belt.

In a quiet voice meant only for the two of them, Mattias said, “I do not doubt your skill, nor your bravery, nor your ability to achieve the impossible. You are the strongest person I know, Ná – my lord. But, please,pleasepromise me you’ll be careful.” His gaze lifted, then, and through a screen of dark lashes, itburned.

Náli swallowed with difficulty, and gripped Mattias’s gauntleted forearms. All his anger had dried up in the face of that look. “I will.”

“Are you ready to mount, my lord?” Snorri called.

Náli took one last guilty-pleasure look at Mattias’s face, then stepped around him, and headed for the saddle.

~*~

The open longing on Mattias’s face as he watched Náli swing aboard Kat was too undisguised to look at for long; it felt like an intrusion, so Oliver turned away.

Only to be met once again by Erik’s upturned face, and its own tense lines of worry. With a lurch, Oliver realized they hadn’t been separated so much as a day since their first kiss; they’d journeyed together, been captives together, escaped together, and spent every night curled around one another, bundled beneath furs against the cold. He’d never been that close to anyone, and now, suddenly, they were to part – the chance of meeting again less than certain.

Erik was much too far away, down there.

The moment he’d thought it, Percy was settling down so he lay on his belly in the snow, legs tucked beneath him. Oliver was still taller than Erik, like this, but close enough that, before he could even request it, Erik had gripped his stirrup, hauled himself up, and caught the back of his helmeted head in his other hand.

“Be careful,” he said, sternly, eyes full of fear.

“I will.”

Erik hauled him down into a fast, fierce kiss, and stepped back with obvious regret. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he said, like a prayer and a promise both.

“You will,” Oliver called back, as Percy rose to his feet again, and spread his wings. “I’ll warm your throne up for you!”

Erik grinned, a crooked flash of white against the dark morning.

Percy coiled beneath him.

Beside him, Kat’s wings rustled, and snapped, and Náli said, “Oh, bollocks, this is –ahhh!”

The drakes leaped into the air, the young one, Valgrind, bugling happily all the way up toward the clouds.

12

Aeres

“What should we – where should we–?” Tessa’s heart was lodged in her throat, and it made it hard to push the words out.

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