He gripped my wrists in his hands, touching the Fae Mark and giving me that added connection. “Find the bond. Imagine you’re tugging on that golden string and pulling it toward you.” I closed my eyes, envisioning the shimmering gold of our mate bond and tugging on it. “Good. Now think of the cold. Think of the snow and the winds of winter. Of the smell of fresh snow and of ice filling your lungs. Push that feeling into your hands, like a spark to bring the winter.”
I did as he said, picturing the snow he’d created in his hands and the way it had felt in mine. The touch of cold against my skin with the cool air surrounding me. My hands buzzed with warmth, making me open my eyes.
There waited only my empty hands to greet my gaze, with not a single snowflake floating in the air above me. I sighed, scowling as I tried to think wintery thoughts.
“Not everything can come easy, Little One,” Caldris said with a chuckle, dragging his thumb over the sensitive skin at my wrist. “Mastering magic takes a lifetime, and most human mates do not learn until after the bond is completed.”
“Is it even possible to learn before that? Who is to say you haven’t set me up for failure?” I asked, but I kept my eyes trained on my hands regardless, picturing snow-covered trees beside me.
“Anything that exists is possible, and the magic is already within you.” His thumb stroked the Viniculum as it curved around my wrist. “You just have to learn to communicate with one another.”
“You act like it’s alive,” I said, huffing a laugh.
He tilted his head to the side. “Of course it’s alive. You’re tapping into the magic of the world, using the nature around you to do your bidding. If nature isn’t life, then I don’t know what is.”
My understanding shifted, and I closed my eyes as I considered the beauty of the snow for the first time. All my life, it had been a detriment. It had represented the hardship that came with being unable to work the gardens for a season, and with having less food to eat.
Something rose up in me. I wouldn’t have said it was magic exactly, but it felt like a drain on my energy, quieting the turmoil of my brain until a yawn burst free.
“I think we’ve accomplished the goal for the night,” Caldris said, releasing my wrists from his grasp. I nodded sleepily, swaying slightly as he turned me and guided me back toward our tent and to the bedroll we shared, so he could wrap me in his warm embrace.
I was too tired to feel defeated and incompetent for not being able to channel the magic that was supposed to be mine now.
That would come in the morning.
I very much, sincerely regretted my sleeplessness the next morning. Even if it weren’t for the way my body slumped back into Caldris’s form, the feeling of failure that rode alongside us all day was enough to act as a deterrent spilling from our bedroll in the future.
I’d had plenty of sleepless nights in my life, wandered in the woods at all hours, but none of those had ever left me feeling as exhausted as Caldris’s lesson. Still, I flexed my hand in front of me, trying to call the winter air to my palm as if it would come to me as we rode along.
“You should take a break,” he said, his presence at my spine both a comfort and a deterrent. He grounded me, giving me a piece of winter that I could hold for my own, but at the same time he felt like a safety blanket in a lot of ways.
If I could surround myself in his presence and allow him to offer me the strength I so desperately needed, then what did I need to be able to summon magic on my own for? When I was in danger, there was no issue calling upon the Viniculum that acted instinctively.
He would always protect me against physical threats to my wellbeing, and so would the mark that claimed me as his. “I don’t want to take a break,” I protested, glaring at my palm. I was never the best at anything, but I just wanted to not be incompetent.
I wanted to be able to summon my power to defend myself against other Fae, even if the Viniculum wouldn’t instinctively respond in such a way. I wanted to be able to challenge anyone who threatened me in the future.
The last thing I wanted was to be reliant on a male. I’d fled that life with nothing but the dress on my body and my brother at my side. While I’d lost sight of that goal of independence for a little while, allowing Caelum to provide me with a feeling of safety and a place to rest my head at night with the Resistance, I couldn’t let go of my goal just because I’d begun to accept that he had a place in my life.
He would be mine, and I think a part of me knew it, even if I wasn’t quite willing to accept it fully yet.
“You’re exhausted, min asteren,” he said, releasing the reins with one of his hands and grasping mine. He lowered them both, pressing them into mane in front of me. “A star can only burn for so long before it dies.”
“Are you trying to imply that I’ll kill myself?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as his chest shook with a slight laugh behind me.
“I’m not implying anything. Pulling too much from the source of your magic can cause death in extreme scenarios. You aren’t quite risking that by attempting the trick I taught you, but your body is not used to it. You have to take it slow,” he explained.
I sighed, sinking further into his chest and letting him wrap me up in his embrace fully. “I just don’t want to feel helpless,” I said, turning my head to press my cheek into him. The scent of him washed over me, lulling me closer to sleep on Azra’s relaxing gait.
“You are far from helpless, Little One. Not many can claim they’ve stabbed a member of the Wild Hunt,” he said, his voice dropping low. As if he could sense how near to sleep I was from the way my body sank into his.
“I wouldn’t be able to claim such a thing either, if he hadn’t wanted to take me alive. Let’s not deceive ourselves; the only reason I have been able to defend myself against you or them is because you want me unharmed. The world is not the same as it was when Loris taught me to fight in the woods,” I said, ignoring the way his breath hitched. I realized in a moment of clarity it was likely the first time I’d spoken the man’s name. Given the tension suddenly filling Caldris’s body, I suspected it was likely fortunate for Loris that he was already dead. “Being able to stab something isn’t enough anymore. What do I do when we arrive in Alfheimr? What of the beasts that roam beneath the stars in Faerie? Will those never be a threat? What of Mab?”
I didn’t expect an answer to any of those questions that served the purpose of confirming how useless my limited skills would be in a fight against such creatures.
“First of all,” he said, the relaxation gone from his voice. “If or when you encounter Mab, you do not fight her. You run like your life depends on it, because there are some fates that are far worse than death. The things Mab does to her toys cause unimaginable suffering. You run and you never look back.”
“But you said you’re bonded to her. How am I supposed to run if you cannot?” I asked.
“You’ll leave me. I have taken Mab’s torment for centuries, and I will continue to do so until I am free. But you, she cannot have,” he said, the ominous warning in his voice making everything inside of me tremble. He genuinely feared the Queen of Air and Darkness and what she would do. Not to him.