The Winter Born [COMPLETED]

Chapter 37 - Mother

The snow is still falling when I looked at him. For a moment, all my senses sieze to work. All I can see is Ethan and his bright eyes and the sword in his hand. He never looked so deadly.

Why, why, why, why is he here? He should be back at Valaria, sleeping in his silk bed, not here, not in the forest and not with me. Why is Ethan with me?

I open my mouth to talk to him, but only a strangled, "Ethan," comes out. It sounds more of a plea than a question, and I hate myself for it.

Wrong words.

Ethan's jaw tightens, he twitches, I react. I grit my teeth, sweep my leg behind his and letting him fall to the snow while I scramble to stand.

Fear runs through my body at the thought of Ethan killing me. I already accepted the fate of death, but I never thought of him doing it. He said he loved me. How can he change his mind so fast?

Ethan is already up, and I re-adjust the spear in hand. He's the enemy, I tell myself. An enemy that I should have not loved. And now I will die in his Valarian hands-- but not without a fight.

Fight strong, Gavin said.

His black hair is shriveled as he brushes off the snow in a hasty move. Before he can look at me with those emerald eyes, my body reacts as if it has a mind of its own-- charging at him, spear poised to make him bleed.

The sharp end cuts through air and snow and misses an inch from his neck when he jumps back. There's a wild fear in me, the type of fear that pushes me to attack him with brute and not with brain.

His eyes widen at my attacks and I swing my spear at him again before he can recover, this time at his legs. Ethan blocks it with his sword, the sound of metal clashing ringing in the quiet night. I grit my teeth, feeling my heart pounds faster and hack his face-- or at least I tried.

The blades meet and clash just inches from our faces, it's the only thing that separates our noses from touching, like the war separating us. My legs start to shake when I look into his emerald eyes, so bright against his black hair and my mind flies back to the time that I can look at them without feeling overwhelming guilt in my heart.

The sword and the spear shake at the amount of force from either side. Ethan's lips open to talk, and I take the moment, pushing him and his sword back. Before he can do anything, I unsheathe a dagger from my waist and send it flying towards his head. His eyes go wide and he side-steps it as quick as a deer. The dagger whirls past Ethan and a struck into a trunk of a tree behind him.

I look down briefly to my waist. Five, five daggers left. I need to save it. My legs move on its own, dancing and twisting swiftly on the fallen snow. White clouds form from my lips as I try to hack and gut and strike and kill the boy I love. A grunt escapes from me when he dodges and blocks it all. Ethan never attacks me, though every time I attack him it's the same moment he opens his mouth.

I don't want him to say my name. His voice is the last thing I need to hear on this night.

The memories come flying to me as my spear struck his sword for what seems like the hundredth times. It flashes in my mind like half-drawn paintings, Ethan diving into the water when I almost drowned, the look he gave me when I told him I would be his friend, the way he laughed when I told him a joke, when he brought me to see the Northen Lights on the same night last year and when he gave me that locket.

I aim at his head, the blade swishing across just moments after he tilts his head back. Three short blacks strands of hair go flying with the snow. My body feels numb and shaking at the same time, and I curse myself when I feel warm tears pricking at the back of my eyes. The paintings keep coming.