Chapter 21

Though I was still weak, I managed to gather my bearings enough to mount Nea's saddle—with Ronan's help, of course. He came back from out in the snow after about an hour, soaked through with fresh blood on his cap. It was the first time he had left me alone, though I doubted he had gone very far. Ronan's eyes were still brightened to a vibrant red, but not as crazed as they had been before he left. A sour mood came along with him, filling the space between us as we made our way back out into the icy mountains.

This time I couldn't be bothered with trying to get him to talk. The worst of my fever had passed, but I still struggled to keep my eyes open. All I did was sit on a horse day in and day out, but I felt like I was the one running at an inhuman speed, and not Nea.

Ronan sat behind me. He did not show the usual relaxed control he had while riding. He sat ramrod straight, aware of every point of contact between our bodies, which only made me, in turn, think about it even more. Everywhere we touched, his body radiated heat like low-burning coals. I had to resist the urge to curl up into him.

I wasn't cut out for this kind of travel. Especially in Faerie.

I didn't want to admit it, but my body had other ideas. I was falling apart. I was hoping that wherever we were going— this place he called Ashthorne Castle— turned out to be the reprieve I needed. My encounter with Ronan had reminded me keenly that I needed to be on my toes.

We clomped up the side of the mountain. The snow grew heavier, falling in thick drifts. Each flake of snow sizzled and steamed off Nea. Another thing the horse and Ronan appeared to have in common.

They were made for each other.

We turned onto a bend in the path, and I saw with relief that the pathway branched off, one side curving away and downwards. It led between two icy shelves of rock, then widened on the other side.

Ronan took that turn. Wherever Ashthorne Castle was, I just hoped it was far away from these cursed mountains. But, before we could get far, Ronan's arms brushed my sides as he reigned in Nea.

I squirmed, startled by our sudden halt. The loss of momentum had pushed me against Ronan's chest. I wiggled away and twisted my torso to look back at him.

"Why are we st—"

His hand clapped over my lips, and my eyes went wide. His eyes flared as he pressed his lips together, a wordless warning. I stopped moving. After a moment, Ronan looked away, back over to the other side of the rocks we had been about to pass through.

In the silence that rang around us, I heard it. There was a small scratching noise from the other side that I hadn't heard over the beat of Nea's hooves, then the heavy sound of huffing breaths. Something slick and wet splattered on the ground. My blood ran cold, much like the ice that coated The Ashthornes' tall peaks.

I could see the tension in Ronan's jaw; his entire body coiled tightly. He reached back and drew his sword from his scabbard, the low metallic ring sounding like an echoing symphony through the mountains. The snowy light glinted dimly off the metal as he pulled it out. I hadn't seen him use it since the night he had stabbed Eirian.

Ronan paused. His gaze focused on me a moment before he looked back at the rocky barrier. Suddenly there was a loud bang. A clank followed, and the sound of metal hitting cold rock. Hissing ensued, and more footsteps thudded across the rocky ground. Ronan pulled Nea away and turned us quietly. We remained there motionless for several heartbeats; my palms grew sweaty, and I tried to keep my breaths slow and even. Behind me, Ronan didn't move even an inch, his body hard as marble where it made contact with me.

I felt Ronan shift, dismounting Nea. Holding tightly onto Ea's reigns, he pressed himself to the rock and looked around the corner. Ronan remained like that for a long moment, and I wondered what he could see.

The footsteps scuffled around the rock, clumsy clatters and a slap as flesh slopped through something liquid. My heart was racing.

I watched Ronan as he observed. His eyes were a bright red again, lit with blood lust. I thought I could see a slow curve taking over his mouth, and I wondered if a part of him hoped the creatures came around so he could attack them. But then he glanced at me, and the expression disappeared, his eyes growing hard; his jaw setting into a firm line. With every moment my anxiety rose like a vicious beast in my chest, and I fought off my rapidly spreading panic. I wondered if the creatures could hear my soft, uneven breaths.

Suddenly a voice, hushed down to a whisper, spoke. It was guttural and harsh, the language all hard throaty sounds.

A reply came. Then steps gathered together, the movements hurried and disconnected. Their clothing must have been made of something thick, a clapping sound carrying through the mountains as they moved. I heard the footsteps retreat and watched as Ronan's shoulders relaxed.

Finally, he stepped away from the wall. A thick rancid scent wafted through the air. I moved a hand up to cover my nose, feeling like I might be sick.

Ronan turned to me and met my eyes for a long moment. We didn't speak. I didn't ask what it was, and Ronan didn't offer up the information himself. But I knew what he wanted to say.

"If you had been out here alone, you would be dead right now."

I darted my eyes away, not watching him as he lifted himself onto the saddle behind me. Warmth returned, but I was momentarily distracted from the frosty air.

Ronan spurred on Nea, quickly turning us around the corner and into a small alcove between the rocks. The other side of the path continued downwards through to another valley. He moved so fast that I almost missed the grisly scene as we passed.

Just past the wall of rock we had hidden behind was the red sloppy mess of a large predator cat. Its insides were torn and ripped out, spilling out onto the ground where it had been left to rot. Its once-white fur had taken on a tarnished pink as the snow slowly drifted down to cover its body.

And I couldn't help but wonder what it would look like if it were my body lying in the snow instead.

The rest of our trip continued without incident. But I couldn't shake the unsettled feeling fluttering inside me. Even though the elevation started to drop the further we went, I still felt like ice was burrowing its way under my skin. We slanted downward between rocky shelves, but the snow never relented.

Tension grew in the prolonged quiet between Ronan and me. It hung in the air, thick and heavy, like a dense mass of space I could not find the energy inside of me to lift. I fought to stay conscious, leaning forward on the saddle, biting my cheek every time my eyelids started to droop. After what happened I didn't want to risk passing out again.

Often if there was a blind spot ahead of us, Ronan would stop and listen. I heard him sniff the air, his nostrils flaring as he sat still. Sometimes he would even get off Nea and leave me atop the horse alone, retrieving me once he was satisfied the coast was clear.

Soon the rocks and ice gave way to a softly blanketed ground of ivory. Thick and squat trees sprouted up along the ground, little glimpses of their emerald greenery peeking through weighty piles of snow.

Ronan relaxed noticeably behind me. I could feel the strain leave his body as we delved deeper into the snowy forest. I allowed myself to close my eyes and breathe easier, knowing that he was more comfortable in this part of the mountains.

Though the trip had been considered short according to Ronan, I felt like it had taken us days. I was getting to the point that if it had a warm fire, and somewhere to hide from the wind, I would be fair game for about anywhere.

As we continued, the ground leveled out. Ronan wove Nea through a smattering of trees, and we came to a long flat road. It was covered in many layers of snow, with no signs it had been used by anyone in a while. The trees bordered us on either side, the wintery landscape adding a silent hush to the air.

A disturbance in the air next to my cheek made my eyes snap open.

"What the hell was that?" I asked in alarm as I searched the air around us.

For a brief moment, I saw a creature resembling a large dragonfly hovering a few inches from my face. As I searched for it, a faint giggle came from the other side of my head. I shot my arm up towards it, batting at the empty air.

Ronan exhaled haltingly, trying to use the sound to mask a laugh—and failing.

I fixed him with a glare.

"Just a little frost child, though I believe you humans sometimes call them snow faeries," he replied after composing himself. The little creature was buzzing around us like a curious bee. I caught a glimpse of fluttering wings that looked like two large snowflakes. Bright blue eyes met mine before the creature fluttered away.

"Is... is it dangerous?"

Ronan snorted rather inelegantly.

"To you, I suppose. It is because of the frost children that The Ashthornes are stuck in a perpetual winter."

I frowned and fixed the giggling creature with narrowed eyes as she returned to inspect me, letting out another fit of childish laughter as she appeared and reappeared before I could swat her away. So it was because of her I was stuck out here freezing my ass off.

Frost children? More like little hellspawn.

As if sensing my murderous intent, the little faerie made a quick swirling dance around us, then fluttered off towards the trees. I followed her path to see there were more of them, little shimmers of light dancing through the wintry forest. They followed us as we trotted along the path. Aside from the one, the rest kept their distance.

The tree line thickened, and the snow started to lighten its descent overhead. The fluttering faeries got bored with us and frolicked off elsewhere, their whispers and giggles departing along with them. I did not take my eyes from the trees. There was a prickle on my skin, making me tense. Like I was being watched—only I couldn't see who it was.

After the day I had, I figured I had good reason to be a little paranoid.

"They will not harm you, either." Ronan's voice was surprisingly soft. I looked back up at him to see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe it was the flush under my skin getting to me and making me delirious, but I was struck by how handsome Ronan was when he wore that expression. It softened his severe features, and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges.

It was... pleasant.

I pressed my lips together and followed his gaze. At first, all I could see were trees densely decorated with pine needles with long-frozen icicles dripping to the ground. As I focused on one spot, I made out the movement of a shadow as it parted from the snow and darted behind a tree. I barely made out a flash of silvery hair before the figure disappeared, blending in with the landscape.

"And what exactly, are 'they?'"

"Vilas." He didn't explain further like the name was explanatory on its own.

"Who?" I lifted my brows.

Ronan's gentle expression evaporated, hardening as he turned away from the trees. "Some of the most beautiful creatures ever to exist. Not quite a ghost, yet not entirely fae, they prefer to hide." His eyes finally met mine, our gazes locking. "Which is just as well as it is said they will lead a mortal man—or woman—to their untimely death if gazed upon."

No harm to me my ass.

Though I knew Ronan was trying to warn me, I couldn't help but tilt my head curiously as I considered the vilas. "Kind of like a siren?" I looked back to the trees where the vilas were lingering. I didn't catch another glimpse, but there was no denying I could feel them out there, watching us.

Ronan's eyebrows lifted. "A siren? Not at all. Sirens are terrible creatures native to the Water Court, and you would never see them this far above sea level in Ashthorne. No, vilas are benevolent in nature. Cursed, more like it. They do not wish to harm anyone, which is why they prefer to go unseen."

I turned his words over in my mind.

"I see," I said, not completely convinced.

We continued further, the thick trees beginning to fade out. Rocky structures started to sprout up, and I saw a few tracks in the snow, though I was not sure how long they had been there.

Then I got my first glimpse of Ashthorne Castle.

A lone, tall, castle stood as if plucked from a fairy tale. Tall spires rose up, reaching for the grey sky. It glistened under the dull light, sharp points gleaming like upside-down icicles. Even with its elegant beauty, it radiated a sense of desolate loneliness that hung heavy in the air. It struck a chord in my heart. I didn't know who lived this far up in the mountains, isolated from everyone else, but already my heart ached for them.

Ronan pulled on Nea's reigns, and we raced towards the icy castle.