Fervor (The Fervor Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

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“W
ake up. Princess.
Wake
up!”

Someone was stabbing her with a knife—no, with twenty knives. They felt as if they simultaneously gouged her, in and then out, sending her body reeling and then settling again and again, minute after minute. Trying to avoid the pain, Caprice floated between wakefulness and sleep. If that stupid man would just stop his screaming, she might be able to drift away from the pain.

“Caprice, so help me, if you do not open your eyes and steer this damn sled, I will return to your castle and burn the bloody ice cube down. From the ground up! Then I will take that pretty servant you’re so fond of…”

Pretty servant?
Addy?
She snapped her eyes open. Nothing but endless white met her gaze. A glowing warmth ran down her side while freezing wind whipped against her cheeks. Bunches of her dress were caught in front of her, and after she dug her way through she realized half a dozen sled dogs ran full speed toward a dead end cliff only a few hundred yards in front of them.

“What the—Give me the reins, you idiot! Don’t you see the signs? The road ends; it’s a straight drop!” Grabbing at his hands, she felt for the reins, came up empty and finally looked over at her hulking captor. He sat, looking ahead, eyes blank and pure
white.

“Oh gods,
you’re blind again, aren’t you?” The words whispered just above the breeze.

He sat with clenched fists. “I lost my grip on the reins.”

“What?” Digging further between the suffocating satin of her gown, she spied the reins dragging in between the dogs just below her feet. Bracing herself on the back of the sled, she tried to turn around. “I see them. If I can just—”

“Where? Below our feet?”

“Yes, just below, but they’re scraping on the ground, just by the dogs’ paws. If I could just…” Turning, she felt strong hands grip her waist and pull her out of her seat. She was floating in the air, hovering above the racing dogs. The air whooshed out of her lungs. A scream escaped that she couldn’t bite back. His large hands bit into her waist, causing the bone girdle to ram into her skin. The torture only increased with each bump of the sled.

“I know you hurt. I would never hurt you intentionally, but we have to act fast. Grab the reins now! Before it’s too late.” The depth of his voice helped to soothe the pain, or was it the electric current that warmed her through the material?

Teetering like a seesaw, her only anchor the hands around her waist, she reached down and almost toppled over, her momentum dragging her head down and her feet forward over her back. His sheer strength kept her steady, and she tried once, failed, then finally grasped the leathery ropes.

“Pull me back!” Icy winds snatched her words, but the giant slammed her back next to him.

Am I too late?
Looking up, she saw the edge of the road. Pulling the reins sharply to the right, the dogs toppled, one set running over the next, their paws sliding on the icy tundra on either side of the road. The Giant slammed into her side, and she almost lost consciousness again when his weight dug the shards in deeper. Holding the reins in a fierce grip, she kept angling the dogs, digging her feet in for leverage and pulling with all her might.

The dogs found purchase and didn’t slow, their chests heaving and tongues panting. Great tufts of white billowed from their mouths, and Caprice realized she was outside, in the freezing cold, with no protection, not even the cover of a carriage.

“Look to the mountain range. Do you see the saddle, the dip between the highest peaks? Head that way.”

“But where will we go? We’ll freeze to death in the next hour. We can’t—”

“Just do it.” His voice boomed, and she recoiled and pulled at the dogs, moving them toward the mountain range. The Giant stood, and she opened her mouth to blast him when she noticed he wasn’t paying any attention to her. His head was cocked to the side.
“Nine hells.”
Just behind them, tiny dots grew in size, and she saw the guards pursuing them. How were there even any alive left to give chase?

Their sleds were smaller, sleeker, and much faster. In no time they were close enough for her to see their armor. He growled, tensed, and steadied himself with one hand gripping the back of their seats. Smoke rose from his palms. Glancing quickly to the left, she realized he was burning the wood.

They were close to the base of the mountain. The dogs still ran full speed. “We’re here. What should I do now?”

“Stop.”

Thank the gods. Whistling, two sharp commands, the beasts slowed, ready to collapse. They were bred for endurance not speed. “How did you even know I could drive this thing? And how did you see them behind us?”

“I didn’t. I heard them. Get down!”

The guards pulled up short, three sleds with two men per vehicle. Shivers wracked her body and a faint humming tickled her ears. “My gods!”

The Giant glowed. A silvery white swirled around his torso and then coalesced in his hands. Current jumped from one palm to the other, making small tapping and frizzing sounds. Before she could utter a word, he flung his hands forward and a band of light as powerful as lightning flew from his palms toward the guards.

The bolts sparked and blew out the front of the sleds; they toppled over, landing atop the armed men. The attack only lasted seconds, but it was enough. Blackened bodies undulated, shivered, twitched, and stilled.

Bile crept up her throat. “What have you done?” she whispered. “What have you done,
what have you done?”

He stood on shaky legs, his head thrown back. She imagined he remained standing by will alone. He looked exhausted, as if the surge of energy had sapped him of strength. With blinking eyes that had returned to brown, the whites as red as the irises, he said, “We are safe.”

“Those men, they were my guards. They were trying to protect me.”

“They tried to take you away from me. That will never happen.”

“They were keeping me safe. From you!” She couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. “I take it you can see again. Your eyes have returned to brown.”

He paused and examined every inch of her face, the intensity of his perusal answered her better than any words could. “Step down from the sled. We walk from here.” He moved to grab her arm and then stopped. “If you don’t want me to touch your skin, walk on your own. Don’t make the mistake of running.”

He kept gazing at the sky, the inky black of night lightened with the beginning of the day. She pulled back slightly, feeling vulnerable about being exposed to the sun, her people avoiding warmth instinctively.

Stepping from the sled, her adrenaline started to fade, and the biting cold surrounded her, making her skin ache. The man had officially lost his mind, “Run? Run where? We are miles from the castle, trapped in the tundra. If we don’t return now, we’ll die. Are you even listening to me? What are you looking for?”

“This.” Reaching behind a ragged outcrop of rocks, he pulled out a leather pack. He let out a cry—the shout of joy bouncing off the mountain and echoing around them. He pulled out a journal, kissed it and then shoved it back into his pack. “We might just make it out of here, Princess.”

Not pausing to explain further, he continued to watch the sky while sprinting forward, searching the sky, then sprinting again. Muttering things like, “…the exit point must differ from the entrance point.”

The repetition made her crazy as she felt death coming for her with each breath, the cold making it difficult to inhale. Her years of training to repress every emotion, to curb her impulses to lash out, were crumbling.

Turning toward her with a satisfied smirk on his face, he said, “It’s here. Let’s go.”

Before her, a swirling mass of white smoke grew and stretched, running along the floor, perfectly mimicking the color of the rock and snow it hovered above. It was strangely beautiful and wholly terrifying. “What is that?”

“The Bicullis.”

Memories swirled of golden hair and warmth, a feminine voice telling tales of a magical portal that could transport people between kingdoms. The images made her uncomfortable, and as soon as she tried to focus too closely, they floated away, just out of reach. Her heart ached in a strange way. Her mother. It was a rare memory of her mother. “That’s a myth.”

“That’s what I used to think. We only have minutes. We must step through just as the sun rises.”

“Where does it lead?”

Running a hand through his hair, he replied, “My home. Princess, I can’t explain it now; I don’t have the time. Once we get there, you’ll understand everything. I’ve promised not to hurt you, and you’ll have to trust that I won’t, but I have to get back.”

“Just as you have to go, I have to stay. Surely you understand?”

“Go back? To what? A father who tortures you, coats your skin with glass. Who
sells
people? It’s sickening!”

The comment was like an ice pick to the heart. She could not defend her father. Everything he had said was true. But she did have responsibilities. Addy! They would kill her if she wasn’t there to protect her. “Good or bad, this is my life. I have people to care for. People I love.”

“People? Like who? Your fiancé?” he sneered.

“Yes, that’s right, my fiancé, promised to
me.”
She didn’t give a damn about the Prince, but she didn’t have to explain that to her captor. She clenched her hands in frustration, ready to kill the idiot of a man in front of her. Why did every male in her life try to control her? Her father, this
giant
… and after the ceremony, the Prince—a virtual stranger.

Storming toward her, his bronze shoulders looking impossibly broad against the white backdrop, he said, “You don’t want him.”

“I’ve waited to be in a man’s arms my whole life.” The truth of her words hung between them, and despite everything he’d done, the thought
I wish it were you,
ghosted through her mind.

For a split second she thought she saw pain flash across his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he charged. Before she could react, he placed his hands on her face and sealed their mouths together. His lips, moist and full, almost kept her from noticing the freefall; the momentum sent them careening, tumbling over and through the mist of cloud.

Her body felt tight, stretched, pulled inside out, then nothing.

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T
he pain in
Anona’s arm throbbed, making her fingers swell, but she knew not to struggle. Going limp wasn’t an option either, so she just tried to stay neutral, following where the king led. The strength in his hand as it gripped her bicep wasn’t a surprise; hurting her seemed to be a favorite pastime of his.

He led them up to his private quarters and sent one of his personal attendants to summon the Prince. She’d never set foot in his bedchambers before and she looked around, once again disappointed in the muted colors and sparse adornments. The bed lay in a larger room beyond the sitting area.

The king threw her against a low settee upholstered in the lightest blue with fine yellow stitching. Sitting up slowly, she waited. He had his back turned to her, his shoulders tight, his head bent low. His fury was a living, breathing thing in the room. Again she marveled at a people who claimed to maintain control over their emotions, yet felt no shame in expressing the most powerful of them all, anger. She’d seen many of the royals seething and petulant when they didn’t get their way, yet they claimed to have hearts of ice.

They are all full of shit
.

The prince shuffled in, trying to maintain a bored expression, but his eyes danced with fear. Ah yes, these royals felt terror just as much as the next person; they’d just grown adept at hiding it.

“The princess is gone,” the king announced.

No shit. I could have told him that.

He spun around as if he’d heard her thoughts, and she sat up gingerly, schooling her features. She must maintain control and find a way to turn these events to her advantage. She hated,
hated
that bitch for scarring her, and she hoped the slave cut her into tiny pieces. She just had to find a way to make the king as grateful as she that Caprice was gone. “I am as shocked as you, My—”