“Stay awake,” he said, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from closing. “North Queen,” he snarled, “you need to stay awake.”
But she couldn’t help but let the darkness consume her.
Norah’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself tangled in Alexander as they lay in a wheaten field under the summer sun.
“Alexander?”
He smiled down at her, his blue eyes shining.
She’d missed him. “Am I dreaming?” She put her hand on his chest and spread her fingers against his skin.
“North Queen,” he said.
“Why do you call me that?” she whispered. His body felt good close to hers, and she burrowed into him. “I’m cold, Alexander. I’m so cold.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. His warmth was inebriating, and she smiled as she nestled deeper. Norah let her lips graze his chest and felt a surge of heat inside her. She kissed the smooth warmth of his skin and let herself rest blissfully in his arms.
She opened her eyes again, and confusion rained over her as dark markings sprung from his skin. Ink bled into ominous patterns, patterns she’d seen before. The summerscape fell away, and she was inside a stone room. The darkness of night was held at bay by candlelight and a crackling fire behind her.
But her eyes were on the markings.
Panic flooded her. She sat up quickly and gasped as she saw the commander lying on the bed, looking back at her. The covers fell away, revealing her near nakedness underneath, and she grasped desperately at the blankets, pulling them to cover her chemise.
He chuckled in amusement as he rose from the bed, and her breath shook in horror at seeing his nakedness as well.
“Now you’re not dreaming,” he jeered with an evil smile. He walked around the bed and crouched in front of the flame, putting another log on the fire and stirring the embers with his sword.
“Don’t worry yourself,” he said, although he seemed to relish her panic. “I wasn’t improper with you.”
Heat radiated from her face. “What do you consider improper if not forcing a woman naked into bed?”
“You cannot imagine,” he said in a low, disturbing voice. “But you’re not entirely naked. And I didn’t force you. You were merely an unwitting participant.”
“Of which I’m sure you enjoyed,” she snapped.
“Quite the opposite. I like a good fight,” he said wickedly. “Actually, I would have preferred to leave you to die in the storm, although it would have been too kind a death.”
She found his words as chilling as the winter air. What was to be her death then? She couldn’t think of that right now.
“Why are we both without clothes?” she demanded.
“They were wet, and you needed to be warmed skin to skin. Do you not know how to survive a north storm, North Queen?” he taunted her.
Norah snorted, astounded at his brazenness.
The commander stood, again not bothering to cover himself. She averted her eyes, pulling the blanket up higher. He walked over to her shirt on the floor, picking it up and dropping it on the bed.
She grabbed it and pulled it quickly over her head, trying to keep herself covered with the blanket. Her underwear was still on, she noted, appreciative of the small assurance that he hadn’t been entirely free with her.
“I want my breeches,” she said.
He nodded to them lying across a chair by the fire, along with his own clothes. “They’re not dry. You’ll have to wait.”
The commander sat on the edge of the bed, and she pulled her feet away from him, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. He gazed at her hands and then reached out and grabbed one. Norah tried to jerk it back, but he held it firmly. She struck him in his face with her other hand and he let out a growl. She tried to strike him again, but he caught her wrist and pulled her closer. Redness rose on his cheek from her blow.
“Let go of me!” she spat.
He ignored her and pulled her hands up, looking closely at her fingertips.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
He grasped her face as she tried to bat him away, but he pulled her closer, looking carefully over her.
“The winter didn’t eat your skin,” he said. “You’re lucky.”
“That’s the opposite of what I would consider myself right now,” she said shortly, finally beating him back.
He released her. “You should be thanking me you’re alive.”
She snorted in disbelief. “I should be thanking you for saving me from a situation you put me in to begin with? And only to kill me later?”
Irritation flashed across his face, and he turned away from her. “Who is Alexander?” he asked.
Her eyes darted up to him, and her pulse quickened. “Why do you ask this?”
“Because it’s what you called me… before you kissed me.” He gave a cruel grin in satisfaction at the horror on her face.
“I did not!” she hissed.
He chuckled. “You were on your way to marry the Aleon king, but you love another. A secret love?” he taunted.
“Like your love for the king?” she spat back.
The commander jerked his head up in surprise. His smile faded. “Of course, I love Salar,” he said. “As any warrior should.”
“Except your love is different,” she challenged.
His jaw tensed, and he shot her a look she hadn’t expected—fear. It confirmed what she had only suspected. He was in love with the king. A love he hid, a twin to her own tragedy. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, but that sympathy was short-lived.
“Does he know?” she needled, still angry at his impudence. “I imagine that might change things between you two.”
He lunged forward, pinning her to the bed with a fiery rage. His skin burned with the heat of fight, and his hand clenched her at the base of her neck with a force that made her struggle to breathe.
“Is this where you remind me how you can kill me?” she said through her teeth.
He ran his hand higher around her neck.
“Do it,” she seethed. What did it matter anymore? If death was to come, better not to wait in fear.
The commander’s lip quivered in fury as he bared his teeth. Then, suddenly, he released her and pushed himself off and away from the bed. “You won’t speak of this again,” he snarled.
“And you won’t speak of Alexander,” she countered.
A pact sealed in animosity. Surprisingly, he seemed to settle. He pulled out a flask and some wrapped meat and dropped it on the bed beside her.
Just then, Norah heard a shuffle outside the room. “What was that?” she asked.
“The horses.”
“Inside?”
He shrugged. “No one to care.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she found herself looking around the room. They weren’t in a simple house.
She picked up the flask and brought it to her lips, surprised to find whiskey instead of water. She suppressed a cough as she swallowed, then drank again. Her stomach grumbled as she bit into the meat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
The commander stood watching her as she took another drink.
“When will the king be here?” she asked.