Page 126 of Of Rime and Ruin
I surge onto my tiptoes and kiss him. His mouth envelops my whimpering sobs, and his hands slide into my hair. He tastes like peppermint snow, cold and delicious. Perfect in every way. With a gasp, he pulls me impossibly closer. I thrill at the joy of our kiss, at the truth of his proclamation. He loves me, and my heart will sing his praise until the day I dissolve.
The tide washes over my bare feet, cool and crisp. Something bumps into my leg. Driftwood, probably.
Clinging more tightly to Aethan’s face, I ignore the driftwood. More. More. I need more.
The driftwood bumps me again, cold and soft. I glance down to find a stiffened siren face floating in the water, frostbite speckled across graying skin, jaw frozen in a permanent scream. Hair spreads in the currents like glacierweed. His eyes are white glass, unseeing, as he bumps against my leg. It’s Orson, the young hunter who joined me in the snowball fight against the king.
Dead.
I scream.
Aethan scoops me into his arms in an instant. I can hear his rapid heartbeat through his shirt, where my ear rests as he runs. The world has a hollow sound, echoing as though from a distance. The rush of water. Clacking stones beneath his feet. My scream, ringing in my ears as if it belongs to someone else.
The hunter is dead.
I just saw him last week, on the hunt. He was hooting excitedly as the woollygoat charged, as his arrow made its skillful mark.
Dead.
How can he be dead?
Aethan’s chest vibrates, turning cold beneath my touch. Before my eyes, I watch the blue scales crawl over his chest and up his arms. His fingers turn to claws, digging into my flesh.
He sets me on the ground near the gate and bends down to look me in the eye. His claw brushes beneath my chin, tilting my face. Dark blue eyes. Sharp teeth. Horns sprout through his hairline, spiraling toward the sky. “Stay,” he growls. “I will fix this.”
As he turns, charging toward the sea, long quills burst out of his spine and shred his shirt. The moment his feet touch the water, he howls. His head snaps back, his body expands to twice his size, and his tail slithers out.
The clawbeast hunches over Orson’s dead body, grasping at it with panicked hands. But his claws only make it worse. Fresh blood washes into the Rime. His fear crashes over me—Aethan is drowning in it.
Shit.
“Help!” I screech. There’s gotta be a guard around here. Someone who can figure out what’s going on, why this happened. “Someone help!”
The gate flies open on shrieking hinges. Guards hurry onto the shore, stopping short when they see Aethan.
The clawbeast looks up. The guards raise their weapons, point them at their king. His face falls.
No. Not him. Can’t they see the dead hunter in Aethan’s arms?
“Beast!” They charge instantly, battle cries rising.
“No!” I scream, but my voice is lost on the wind. I scrabble for stones and lob them toward the guards, to get their attention. What the fuck are they doing, charging their king?
Aethan turns to face them, seething. A guard stabs him in the side, and he howls, dropping the body to clutch the wound. He swipes his paw, knocking the guard into the air. The guard lands with a sickening crunch and moans.
Emboldened, I run down the beach. Tears sting in my eyes and freeze in the wind. “Don’t hurt him!”
One guard turns, finally noticing me. His face is stern, reprimanding. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “Get back inside, Your Highness. We’ll deal with him.”
“But—”
He wraps his arm around my waist, dragging me back the way I came. “You don’t want to see this.”
“Let me go! You don’t understand. He’s not an animal, he’s your king!”
The guard hesitates. “What?”
Aethan roars. Water splashes. Stones rattle. I glance behind me in time to see him charge. With outstretched claws, he rips the guard away from me and pins him to the stones, snarling. Drool dangles from his pointy teeth. The skin on his face shifts, patches of white peeking through.
