God help us.
Chapter
Seventeen
A quarter hour later, Ice and I sit inside the manor’s old coach house, which squats on a parcel of winter-dried grass behind the manor and has been converted to guest quarters. These rooms are, thankfully, undisturbed. Ice presses a cup of water into my cold hands, then sits across the table, his big body and larger presence taking up most of the narrow, quaint room.
Since I’ve completed spells to keep Bram hydrated and his body functioning properly, shadows drape my brother as he lies on the sofa in the cozy little den. Here, it feels peaceful, quiet except for the softly falling rain. The appearance of serenity is both temporary and a lie. I shiver as flashes of senseless murder and spilled blood tattoo my mind.
“We can’t stay here,” I say, shutting the door on my brother. “We need to warn the other Councilmen, then flee.”
Braced on his elbows, Ice leans on the table, shoulders bulging and wide. “No. We should stay.”
Is he mad? “The Anarki invaded this place and did…terrible things,” I choke. “If they came back, they’d take the diary. Why would we stay in harm’s way?”
“Precisely because they’ve already been and think their mayhem here is done. Why would they return?”
After a pause, I realize he may be right. As much as I want distance between myself and the house of horrors, where a man I was fond of and his servants were viciously slaughtered, I know better. Why would the Anarki return when they were here so recently and completed their terrible task so effectively?
“All right. But we stay here in the coach house. I won’t sleep in the manor. I can’t.”
Ice pauses, frowns, then reaches across the table for my hand. His warmth embraces my chilled fingers, and I’m absurdly grateful for his support. I didn’t realize how badly I needed it. But somehow, he knew.
“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” he assures. “We’ll stay in the coach house. I’ll keep watch.”
“You need sleep, too.”
He hesitates. “There is only one bed.”
My gaze flits to it, a cozy cherry wood tester bed trimmed in gauzy curtains and piled with comfortable quilts. A bed designed and outfitted for romance.
I try to focus on the practical matter at hand, but my mind keeps fragmenting—flashing between the horror we just witnessed and the very alive, very warm man across from me. Maybe it’s natural to crave life and warmth after seeing so much death. Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I imagine Ice’s body next to mine, hard and dusted with hair where I am soft and smooth, putting off heat like a broiling oven. My pulse jumps. Very bad thoughts, indeed.
Hiding a wince, I turn back to the warrior. I’d offer the sofa to Ice, but Bram is draped over it limply, his condition unchanged. “We’ll manage.”
Ice closes his eyes. Looks down. Swallows. When his gaze bounces up to mine again, fire flares. Transfixed, I stare.
“Princess, if we share that bed, neither of us will get any sleep. All night.”
I suck in a breath as a hot ache balls in my stomach. Worse, the feeling is beginning to sink down and settle between my thighs. I can only imagine the nuclear reactor sort of energy Ice and I would generate, the blistering pleasure. He’s so tempting. An utter puzzle—hard one minute, tender the next, alternately kind, possessive, insistent, infuriating.
He enthralls me.
God, I’m a fool. If I speak the Binding and become his mate, the Privileged would be shocked, my brother devastated, and my famous grandfather, Merlin, would be turning over in his grave…
Ice wants me. Not for a tumble, but forever. His actions seem to match, but always that voice in the back of my head won’t let me forget how much he and Bram hate each other. What would he be willing to do to cause my brother serious pain? How far would he go?
I have no answers.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” I say finally.
He releases my hand, eases back in his chair, eyes unreadable. “Of course not.”
What does he mean by that? I frown and want to ask, but it’s pointless, really. These few days alone with him are like some page out of time—never occurred before and never will again. Eventually, perhaps when I’m less worried for Bram and we aren’t running for our lives and focused on saving magickind, I will find the will to Renounce Ice. Until then, what point is there in building our relationship?
None.
“We should focus on reaching the other Councilmen, warning them.”
