A Wolf of Ice and Iron [OLD]

Chapter 25

Morel

"Just tell him," Darren says, looking exasperated. "You're dragging everyone's lives through the dirt if you don't."

"I'm not telling him," I snap back at him. He's been going on about me telling everyone this and that and this and that, and I can't quite take it anymore. "Sorry. I just- I don't think it's worth it. Adras has enough worry in his life."

"He seemed rather chipper just now," Darren retorts as he pulls up a dead flower. He throws it onto the pile he's accumulated, and then he takes a break to take a swig from a bottle filled with red liquid, making my stomach lurch.

"Will you stop bringing that with you every time you leave the house?" I snap. It makes me feel queasy and gross and sick, but also desperate and almost yearning. "I don't want it near me."

"You don't want it near you because you don't want to drink it," Darren snaps. "And you need it to survive, Morel. You haven't drunk it for, what, years? You've been drinking coconut water? How do you live like that? You don't have it and you must feel sick all the time. You need-"

"I know what I need," I practically snarl at my younger brother, defensive and prickly. "I don't want to hear it. Just the word ticks me off."

"What, blood? Oh wow, I'm Morel, I'm secretly a Blood Court faerie and I don't drink blood!" He throws a hand onto his forehead. "Oh, woe is me-"

I launch myself at him, pinning him to the ground under me. "Shut. Up. There are ears and eyes everywhere in this garden."

Darren stares back up at me harshly. "It isn't a secret, Morel. Winter knows. That means everyone does. And they're ok with it. What are you so afraid of?!"

"Hurting someone!" I nearly shout, my eyes burning. "I'm afraid of hurting someone! I don't want to hurt them with that need! The blood drive!"

"Not someone!" Darren snarls back. "Who don't you want to hurt?!"

"Darren-"

"No, who?!" He snarls, fangs bared and prickly and red. The sight is enough to set me off.

"I'M AFRAID OF HURTING WINTER!"

Darren quiets, and so do I. We're panting as we stare at each other, and his eyes are softer now. "Finally, dear god."

"I didn't admit it to anyone," I say, confused. I sit up, letting him up, and I feel guilty for pouncing on him in such an animalistic way. It isn't fair to him. Especially when he's just trying to help. But damn, does he have strange and annoying ways of helping me.

"You admitted it to yourself, which is a better step in the right direction," Darren says curtly, picking up another dead flower. "Help me, will you?"

|~~~|

I pace around outside Winter's study, feeling restless. "Win-sir?" I say, remembering how he snarled at me the other day. The memory shakes me to my core. The bared teeth, the burning eyes, the wild white hair, the pale skin, the prickly expression.

But a part of me still feels that thrill at the sight of it. The young wildness, the private moments we had. Many, many years ago. Too long ago.

I've forgotten the feeling of his skin, the slope of his spine, the cut of his ribs. The silk of his hair, the bow of his mouth, the dip in his throat. The shivers he gives in to, the sounds he makes, the expressions he can't help but show when he's at his most vulnerable. The way he dips his head and the way his hair falls around his face like a curtain. His noises, his touches, his shaking fingers, his sweet areas that make him weak and shivery. The way he smiles, the way he lights up like sunshine, the way he gives himself up completely and utterly. The way he bares his throat in a wolf act of submission - the way he finds himself so perfectly slotted in against me.

It's those things I miss the most, those things I carved to memory but have long since forgotten. Those things I yearn for, those things I dream about when I sleep and those things I think of when I'm awake. Those things that I never thought possible, those things I know are possible, but those things I've lost.

Winter opens the door, startling me out of my reverie that has left me warm in the face and in other places. He arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

But he is regal in the way he is mussed. His hair messy, his shirt unbuttoned. Oh god, unbuttoned. I can see his torso through the pale vest he wears, and it is stronger than I ever remembered, the outline of muscle unfamiliar but welcome. His hair falls across his shoulders, not tied back, and it touches his waist.

I struggle to find words. "I- um, I just- the thing is-"

Winter rolls his eyes and opens the door wide, beckoning me inside.

I'm taken aback by this. He doesn't want anything to do with me, surely? Then why is he welcoming me into his private space? Into his safe circle, the place he feels welcome and the place he can be alone. I don't move at first, thinking it might even be a trick. Could it be? I don't know. It certainly wouldn't surprise me, even though he isn't one to play tricks.

Winter rolls his eyes and reaches forward to yank me forward. His hand brushes mine, and the electric shock that goes through my nerves, my every fibre, is something I cannot ignore. My hair stands up as he pulls me inside and closes the door. I'm left almost yearning for the breath he's stolen just by a simple touch.

"What is it?" He asks. His voice is clear and crystal as always, but I can hint a shakiness to it. He's unsure. He's upset. And I don't know how to help. And even if I did, he wouldn't let me.

"I just..." I lick my lips. "I want to ask, sir..."

He startles a little, his amber eyes widening. He wasn't expecting me to call him that.

"I want to ask if I could have leave," I say quickly. "I'm feeling weaker lately, with the end of the year soon, and... well, I need time to relax and recharge so I can get to work again."

Winter is silent for a while, blinks, and then glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "You haven't been drinking blood."

It's a statement, not a question. But it still takes me by surprise, rocks my world, leaves me almost stumbling. I knew he knew, Darren even knew, and practically all the faeries here know, but it still leaves me reeling and dizzy and unsure. Blood Court fae aren't supposed to be allowed in other courts. They're dangerous.

But Winter's father allowed my brother and I to stay a long time ago. That hasn't changed, and it won't. Winter was the one who helped to persuade him.

Winter turns. "Why not?"

I stutter immediately, unable to even breathe properly. "I- I don't- I don't know, I just- I wasn't sure-"

"You don't want to hurt anyone," he says mildly, turning to pour himself a glass of cold water. He sips it deftly as he turns to look at me. His eyes are harsh but somehow not as much as they were a while ago, not like yesterday, not like the day before, not like the years we didn't speak.

"I don't," I say, my voice cracking a little. I mentally curse myself for it. Weakness in front of Winter is never good - weakness in front of any faerie is never good. But I find myself feeling more comfortable to be weak in front of him, of all faeries I could possibly lose control in front of.

"But you need blood," Winter seems curt and matter-of-fact as he speaks. He puts down his glass of water, half finished, and rolls up his left sleeve.

"What-" I start, but am cut off as he holds out his arm. His veins are right there, extended and ripe, and my mouth goes dry.

"Drink, then." He says, staring at me expectantly.