Seduction of the Bear (Bear Kamp Book 1)
Page 14
Frida frowned at the two of them. “But growing up, we always learned...“
“Well of course we did,” Daegal said, his lips gone tight. “What kind of adult wants to admit to a bunch of children that, yes, an entire species was almost destroyed because of fear, hatred, and xenophobia? It's much easier to say that the Borderlands is deserted because of the plague, or because of the weather, or because of something else that is out of our control.”
“Huh.” Frida pushed around some of the vegetables in her stew, thinking that over. She felt a little hurt that she hadn't learned this already. She frowned. “Is that the reason why I'm...” She trailed off, glancing at Magnhild and wondering whether she should admit to being warded. Of course, the woman seemed okay with the fact that Daegal was a magician, but how would she feel if she knew she was housing two magicians? And what would Frida do if Magnhild ever managed to connect the fact that it was Frida sitting there, Frida who had told her she had magic that was warded? It had the potential to turn Frida's whole world upside down.
“The reason why you're…?” Daegal prompted, looking quizzical.
Frida took a deep breath. “Is that the reason why I'm warded?” she asked.
Daegal nodded at her, seemingly unsurprised by her question. “It definitely has a lot to do with it, I'd imagine,” he said. “As I mentioned, Kjota's army was one of the foremost armies fighting off the magician's. There's still quite a bit of distrust and even hatred amongst the Kjotan when it comes to magic and magicians. Why, even healers here generally don't use magic to speed up healing processes, or if they do, they generally don't realize what they're doing.”
Frida smiled a little at that. But her look quickly turned sober again. “So if the magicians attack—if they manage to get this far north—we'll be decimated,” she said, frowning a little. “I imagine there must be some magicians up here who haven't been warded, but...”
Daegal sighed. “And therein lies the problem,” he agreed, nodding his head. “The thing is, no one is really sure how many magicians there even are up here any more. Census records haven't kept track of that since the wars—or, well, the question has still been asked, but no one has been dumb enough to answer 'yes' to it. We're woefully unorganized, and that could be our undoing.”
“There must have been magicians fighting for the north last time, though,” Frida said slowly. “There's no way we could have defeated the magicians otherwise. Am I right?”
Daegal was silent for a long time. “You're right,” Magnhild said, a strange smile on her face. “But all the magicians of Kjota—and even many of them from Sciothal—fled as far north as possible after the wars were over, to avoid persecution. They were never followed.”
“And that's where you're from,” Frida finished, her eyes widening. She glanced over at Daegal, wondering if he was thinking along the same lines that she was. Perhaps that was the reason the prophecy was sending them north. “Will your...people…be coming back down from the north to fight in this war?” Frida asked slowly.
Magnhild shook her head. “I don't know,” she answered honestly. “The only thing that I can definitively say is that they've heard news of the war and are considering it. But there's hatred up there too. Life has been hard, and many of those who fought in the previous wars have passed down their anger over the fact that they were instrumental in saving the free lands from invasion and then were forced out of their homes and into such harsh conditions. The north is not an easy place to raise a family.”
Frida nodded sagely, still mulling it over. Daegal was silent as well. Magnhild looked back and forth between the two of them and then shrugged a little, as if to herself. “You'll want to go until the road runs out,” she told them. “Then turn right and wind your way up into the ice caves. Someone will meet you there.”
“What kind of someone?” Daegal asked carefully. “And how far up into the caves do we have to go?”
“They have watchers and wards on all the caves,” Magnhild responded. “You won't be able to leave the road without them knowing that you're there. Don't worry about that. As for who will meet you, I can't say. But whoever it is, they should do you no harm, as long as you're respectful.” She paused. “One more thing: I would leave in the evening, under cover of nightfall. I know it's not the most ideal time to travel, especially not when it's this cold out, but you don't want to raise any suspicion by heading north. Even to this day, the people of Daelfjord are...” She trailed off and shrugged.
“You think that they would attack us if they saw us headed north?” Frida asked, sounding aghast.
“I don't think they would go that far, no,” Magnhild said her eyes strangely bright. “But these are difficult times, and it never hurts to be cautious.”
“We'll take that into consideration,” Daegal said.
Magnhild clapped her hands together and stood. “All right. Well, I have an inn to run and plenty to keep me busy until the morning. I hope that your meal is hearty and that you have a pleasant evening.”
“But the prophecy,” Frida protested. “You never told us...”
Magnhild stared at Frida for a long moment. “I don't believe the time is right just yet,” she said finally, a small frown gracing her lips. “I can sense that something...” She trailed off and glanced over at Daegal, who was looking grim. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the back of the inn.
“Can you believe that?” Frida asked incredulously. “All this talk about the prophecy, yet she still won't tell us the details. If I didn't know her better, I'd think she was just making it up!”
Daegal took one final bite of his stew and then laid his dishes to the side. “If we're to leave this evening, we'd best get moving,” he told Frida. “If I remember correctly, there's an old wayfarer's hut somewhere along the road—I've seen it marked on the old maps. We should be able to make it there by morning, and we can rest there.”
“Neither of us is really outfitted for much colder temperatures than this,” Frida pointed out.
Daegal shrugged. “Short of wearing the whole bear, there's not really that much else that we could do,” he said. “Your body will get used to it. Don't forget that you have magic there, boiling just below the surface. That will heat you when all else fails, even if you don't know how to reach it.” He stood up. “I'll meet you upstairs when you're ready. Try not to take too long.”
Frida stared after him as he retreated up the stairs, frowning a little. His pushy, commanding ways were beginning to wear on her. But for now, she supposed she still needed him, so she would go along with it. She finished her stew and followed him up to their room to ready herself.
Chapter 14
The wayfaring hut had certainly seen some better times when they reached it, but it still had four walls and a roof, so that was a blessing. A strong wind had picked up just as the sun was rising, and Frida was shivering beneath her thick, fur-lined coat. She hadn't been able to feel her toes in hours. And she was hungry.
When she swung down from her horse, she nearly toppled, all her limbs stiff. Daegal was there to catch her, even though he looked just as exhausted as Frida felt. “Let's get inside,” he said wearily, making quick work of tying up the horses and piling up some grain for them in the outside trough.
Frida went straight inside, looking curiously around the sparse furnishings. There was a bed, at least, and a rudimentary kitchen. When she looked, she even found sheets and bedding in one of the cupboards. She shook it out, surprised to find that it wasn't moth-eaten—but then, they probably didn't have moths or other insects when it was this cold.
She was just finishing making the bed when Daegal came in, stomping his boots to get rid of the worst of the snow. He began peeling off layers and then went over to the fireplace. “There's no wood,” Frida said. “I already checked.”
Daegal frowned, and suddenly there was a bright orange flame dancing in the fireplace. “I don't need wood; I have magic,” he reminded her. “This should keep us war
m enough.” He stripped off some more layers and came over to the bed where Frida was sitting.
“We should eat something,” Frida said half-heartedly. Now that she was sitting down, though, all she really wanted was to lie down in bed and sleep. The bonus was, the bed was small, and there would be no option but for them to cuddle with one another. She could use a little more warmth than that given off by the fire.
“Let's get in bed,” Daegal said, as though he was reading her mind. “I'll cook us something when we wake up.”
Frida stood up and began stripping off her layers as well. She glanced over at Daegal and paused, her hands on the clasp that held together the neckline of her undershirt. Slowly, she removed that as well, leaving herself totally naked. She paused there for the barest of seconds, just long enough to allow him to see her form, before she slipped into the covers.
Daegal raised an eyebrow at her. “You're not going to go running off this time, are you?” he asked, his hands at his trousers.
Frida blushed a little, unable to meet the man's eyes. “I wish I could say no,” she mumbled. “You...make me nervous.”
Daegal's face registered surprised and he crawled onto the bed and kissed Frida more gently than she ever could have imagined possible. “You make me nervous as well,” he confessed. “I don't think you realize how utterly incredible you are, but...” He ducked down beneath the covers and pressed the barest of kisses to her sternum. Then, he slowly made his way down her smooth curves, kissing and sucking as he went. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sharply-pointed hip bone.
Frida hesitantly tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on. But she couldn't have expected that his tongue would delve deep inside of her, a searing intrusion that had her gasping, eyes opening wide and startled.
“You like that, do you?” Daegal asked, looking amused from his position between her legs. He fluttered his tongue against her velvety folds, and Frida bit back a moan, her fingers twisting in the man's hair. “What about this?” Daegal asked, using his tongue to play with the outside of her ladyhood while his fingers slipped easily inside of her slick heat.
Frida gasped and arched against the sheets, trying her best not to thrust her hips down. “That feels really good,” she admitted, as though Daegal might not have realized that already.
Daegal continued to take her apart with his soft licks and deft fingers. “Wait,” she finally choked out, reaching down to still his wrist. “I want to come with you inside of me.”
The man raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn't question it. Instead, he slowly withdrew from the space that he had previously occupied and pulled her up and over, so that her smooth backside was presented beautifully towards him. He dug his fingers into the soft globes of flesh and positioned himself so that he could slide carefully inside of her waiting hole.
It was exactly what Frida needed right then, and she couldn't find the words to tell him just how perfect it felt. Instead, she could only whimper and writhe against the sheets, trying desperately to snap her hips back against his. But he was still holding her firmly in place, teasing her with just the tip of his manhood for the longest time. Her whimpers became increasingly desperate, until finally he slid the rest of the way into her.
That drew a shaky moan from her, and she looked back over her shoulder at him, her eyes already half-lidded with lust. Daegal leaned down and savagely captured those plump lips in a kiss, biting and sucking his way along her lower lip and then delving his tongue inside of her mouth, forcing her to open up to him.
Frida felt like everything she was was encompassed by him at that moment, with the way that he was draped around her and filling her needy holes. His finger circled slowly down to play between her legs, even as he continued to press into her and then slide all the way back out.
The thing was, Frida already felt like she was right on the cusp of coming. She just needed a little more from him—a little more intensity to his thrusts, maybe, or a slightly different sensation. With that, she would come hard, she knew, practically spilling her own lust across the sheets to match his. As though sensing this desire, Daegal suddenly reached up and tweaked on of her nipples.
Frida cried out his name as they both fell into their climax. Her magic sparkled across her skin in ways that were almost tangible, and she felt for a moment as though she might be utterly consumed by it. She remembered what Daegal had said about how taking down her wards could possibly go wrong, could possibly break her mind. But suddenly, she knew that it was something that needed to happen—and it needed to happen right then.
Caught by sudden inspiration, she took all the energy that she could feel coursing through the two of them and threw it towards the wards around her magic, shattering that cage into oblivion and allow her power to seep back into her blood, coursing out of her with every waking breath. Far from breaking her mind, she felt more settled now than she ever had before.
Really, she was just exhausted. So she curled up sleepily against Daegal's side. It wasn't long before blackness overtook her.
Chapter 15
Frida was used to waking up from her strange, possibly truth-telling dreams, but what she'd experienced in the past was nothing like the dreams she had that night. There was detail in the dreams that she could never have even expected, and beyond that, she felt an underlying need to do something, as though someone or something were speaking to her from the other side of the veil, trying to communicate with her the need to… Well, she wasn't entirely sure what she was meant to be doing.
The dream started by panning over a field. She could see that it was blackened, and she initially assumed that everything had been burnt, absolutely razed to the ground. But when she looked closer, she realized that she could see movement on the ground. There were people there, clad in black capes and armor, with black hair and skin. And they were streaming out of seemingly every surface of the ground, emerging from the nooks and crannies between blackened rocks.
It was a scene unlike any that she'd ever seen before. The warriors were far more fierce-looking than the warriors of Daelfjord could ever have hoped to be, and she had no doubt that with their sinewy movements and beast-like behavior, they would be a fearsome force to reckon with.
She wondered if these were the magicians from the Borderlands who had begun warring in the south.
The dream shifted a little—zoomed in until everything became life-sized. Frida found herself standing on a rocky outcrop overlooking the army. At her left was one terrifyingly commanding man who seemed to be their leader. He had a few stripes of deep, blood-red paint down one side of his face, and he stared with crystal-clear eyes out over the mass of warriors. Suddenly, he smiled, his teeth sharp.
He looked around until his eyes suddenly focused on Frida's, and the woman wanted to scream—but no sound came out of her mouth, as she was caught there in the dream world. She could hear him laugh, though, and he reached out a thin, spidery hand to beckon to her, his nails long and also painted a gruesomely bloody color.
“Don't you love our army, my darling?” he asked her, reaching out to caress Frida's cheek. His touch was cold and make her feel almost slimy, as though she were touching something utterly filthy.
“Don't touch me,” Frida managed, stumbling back a step and throwing her hands up into the sign that her grandmother had always used to ward off evil. She didn't think the sign would actually do anything, but it was a habit long ingrained in her memory, and she performed it almost subconsciously.
This prompted more laughter from the man. “You've forgotten me, I see,” he said. “But not for long. We were meant to be together, and you know that soon enough, you'll be my queen. Why, the fates wouldn't have it any other way. Of course, there is the matter of your betrayal, which will not go unpunished. You made my position very uncomfortable for a little while there, my lovely Eir. But not to worry; I won't be too horrible to you. If I'm being honest, it will be good to have you back; you always were a brilliant s
trategist.”
“I don't know who you think I am, but you must be mistaken,” Frida said shakily. She wanted to back further away from the man, but it seemed as though her feet were almost glued there to the ground. She frowned. “I'm not Eir, or whoever else you might think I am,” she told the man. “I'm just...Frida, from Daelfjord.”
The man glanced at her for a moment, something coming over his features, but then he turned back towards his army, watching them consideringly. “We'll begin in Derithan,” he told Frida. “Those poor farmers and peasants won't know what has hit them. Then we'll move onwards from there. It shouldn't be long before we meet again in Kjota, in the land of the ancestors, where the final battle was fought. They won't push us back into the darkness again.”
“But you are darkness now,” Frida protested, not sure where the words were coming from. She gestured between him and the army. “You were once made of light, but now...” She shook her head. “You don't have a soul left in you; it has long since been shredded by the magic you've performed, all the pieces of you scattered away to the winds.”
The man turned his strange, soulless eyes back on her, staring at her for a long moment before turning away, actively dismissing her. “So fight, then, if that's what you want,” he told her, his voice flat. “Before the end, though, you'll see what's worth fighting for. You remember how they treated us—how they continue to treat us. You remember why we started this battle in the first place.”
“I already know what's worth fighting for, and it's nothing I'd ever find with you,” Frida said, feeling as though she were just on the cusp of waking up. “There's friends and family—my hometown here, Daelfjord. I have relationships with people that you would never even understand. I have lived a better life this time around.”