A Wolf of Ice and Iron [OLD]

Chapter 1

Adras

All I can do is hold my breath. Count to four. Let it out. Count to five. Let it out. Count to six. Let it out. Count to seven. Get bored. Sigh. Do it again, because I have nothing to do.

That's a lie, though. I actually have plenty of things to do. I have books strewn across my bedroom floor and paper all over the place. Drawings thumbtacked to the wall next to maps and some strange dying flowers I wanted to pin to my wall for some abstract reason I can't remember. The wallpaper is flaking off.

I stare at that flaking wallpaper. It's light green and black, and it's peeling off the wall where I've stuck countless amounts of sharp knives and pins into it to keep things on the wall. Like my map, or some of my best drawings.

The window is open, and it stirs up a flurry of paper and makes me shiver. It's winter, and although Tahthian snows nearly all-year round, winter is always the worst. The snow reaches the height of the downstairs windows and we have to keep them shut at all times during winter and autumn. They're my favourite seasons, though. I love the cold.

I can hear people downstairs. Probably mum doing the cooking and my sisters and brothers returning from hunting. They hunt all the time, to keep us well-fed and safe. My youngest brother is very good with his bow, and I learnt from him. Although, I don't use it much.

I tiptoe toward the door and creak it open. Voices waft up to me, clearer and louder. I wince. Arguments. I shouldn't go downstairs.

But I'm drawn to the scent of pumpkin and rosemary and the tang of blood in the air after what must be a successful hunt. I drift down the stairs, barefoot and light on my feet. My oldest sister is arguing with Tarmae, the eldest of my brothers.

"You said he wouldn't get hurt!" Nari shouts at him, and she seems the equivalent of a mother bear as she clutches my youngest brother to her body. He's twelve, and he seems taken aback by all the yelling and shouting going on around him. His bright blue eyes catch mine.

I look away.

"I said he wouldn't get hurt if he wasn't stupid!" Tarmae retorts viciously. He sounds the equivalent of a wolf attempting to steal a bear's hunt.

"He's twelve!" Nari screeches indignantly. I've changed my mind. She seems more like an owl now.

My mother stands to the side as the two of her eldest bicker. She never interferes. Only averts her gaze when the fighting starts and puts food in front of us when the day gets dark. I don't see her very much. But she is still strict and she is still there, lurking in the shadows. Waiting for me to attempt escape.

I'm sixteen in a few weeks. I'm sixteen and I won't have seen the outside forest. I'm sixteen and I won't have met anyone who wasn't in my immediate family.

I've been a prisoner in this place for my whole life now. I cling on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they'll let me leave at some point down the line. Maybe when I'm eighteen and at marrying age, they'll marry me off for the wealth and let me live my life. Maybe when I'm twenty and I become too much of a burden to care for. When I'm the oldest sibling at home and mother doesn't need someone to look after the youngest.

They notice me for the first time. Everyone stills, as if I've hit stop on their lives. They pause, staring at me. Blinking.

I don't understand the surprise they show me every time I leave my room. Sometimes I roam the house at midnight, other times I roam the gardens at any time that I see fit. But rarely during the day, unless I'm being directly summoned. I like to spend time in my room to write, read, draw, paint. I don't find any tranquility to be in their company. And they know it.

"Good evening," I say, and Nari jumps, as if I'm a provoked animal. I stare at her, perplexed. I tilt my head to the left and then to the right as I watch her. Fast breathing rate, undoubtedly fast heart rate. She's genuinely scared of me.

I don't know how I feel about that.

Mum looks at me kindly. Her lips press into a thin line that can only be described as a smile. She holds out a plate with a piece of cake on it. "Here, darling," she says. Her voice is sweet but fake. "You can eat this in your room."

That's code for telling me to leave. Some part of me winces and cries out for genuine attention, but I don't say anything as I take the plate from her and retreat once again. But I'm stopped as someone tugs on my shirt.

I look down to see my youngest brother with his fingers loosely knotted in my shirt. Erenn looks at me with wide blue eyes, innocent and kind. He has a cut on his face I hadn't noticed before. Smudged across his cheek.

"Will you read me a bedtime story, Adras?"

His voice is barely a whisper, but it's a knife through my chest. I used to read to him every night, until I started to retreat to my room. Until I was told I was in danger. Until mum wouldn't let me leave the property without an escort. Until she wouldn't let me leave at all. Until I lost myself in my room. Until I gave up.

"Don't be stupid, Erenn," Tarmae snaps, and his muscled arms are crossed. "He doesn't want to read to you."

"I do," I snap back, and everyone freezes all over again. Completely frozen and I can almost hear the ice creaking. I take a short breath and calm myself. "I want to, but I can't. I'm sorry, Erenn," is all I say. I gently prise his hand off my white shirt, but he's letting go already.

I don't want to see the disappointment in his eyes.

So I leave without a second glance. When I am somewhere they can't see me I put the cake down and hope that Erenn finds it before anyone else. Sometimes he follows me. But I don't check to see if my hopes are answered, and I slip into my room and close the door with a soft click.

It's quiet in my room. Dust settles on the bed because I haven't used it for a long time. I've been sleeping on the couch or the floor during the day.

The Tahthian moon shines its light through the window. I go to the window and fling it open wider, letting the cold breeze wash over me. It's tranquil, and gazing at the moon makes me feel calm and at peace at the worst of times. It's cold. It's peaceful. It's lonely. Usually, I like it.

But something feels off tonight.