Veil of Thorns

by Gwen Mitchell

  The only thing that had grown between him and Bri in whatever amount of time had passed was a comfortable distance. She had barely looked at him yesterday. She’d taken to speaking around him, rather than directly to him during meals. He wasn’t sure if she was truly so indifferent, or if it was an act to hide her own dismay. If it was an act, it was a damn convincing one.

  More than once, Lucas had sat back listening to the three of them playing music after dinner–Bri on her piano, Ryder with his violin, and Vika on the harp or lyre–and felt like the odd man out. As if he should post himself on the opposite side of the fireplace from Emil.

  The only time he and Bri touched was when she had another brush with near-death. During those brief contacts, he couldn’t tell if the catch in her breath and pounding of her heart was in response to him or the danger. He would search her eyes for some kind of spark, some change, but the moments always passed. Whenever Bri voiced her discomfort with their game, or his injuries, or the risk to her person, Hedvika would ask her if she was ready to claim him.

  Each time, Bri shook her head, and he grew more and more weary of this ruse.

  What if Hedvika’s intent was to drive them apart? She had no real need for a favor from him. The deal had been too good to pass up, which was exactly why he should have said no.

  You’re losing her.

  Though, he never had her in the first place.

  Briana had only let him into her life because she needed his help.

  To save her beloved Ward.

  None of the plans he’d begun this journey with had worked out, and the moves he’d made to right things since appeared to be dead ends. He’d tried asking Ryder if Bri was faring any better in her search for the book–her scent was all over the library–but Ryder didn’t know any more about what the ladies were up to than Lucas did. Hedvika’s warding was meticulous, and whenever she was alone with Bri, they were surrounded in wards impenetrable even to the wraith.

  Lucas cut through the air with his blade harder and faster, tucking and rolling beneath an imagined hammer swing. He was in the middle of his third attack combination when he caught Bri’s scent. He finished the last few strokes as she drew closer.

  She stopped next to the statue that marked one side of his training area, a woman with her arms reaching to the sky in supplication.

  Lucas marched to the stump serving as his bench at the other end of the clearing and wiped his sweaty chest with a towel. He had not yet donned Hedvika’s amulet and decided to leave it off, allowing the rule of keeping the necklace secret to supersede the rule of always wearing it.

  Bri closed the distance between them cautiously, her eyes darting around the ring of statues and trees, narrowing on a lone crow perched on a nearby branch. Her lips clamped in a tight line and she tapped her head, giving Lucas a beseeching look.

  He swallowed hard and nodded, his heartbeat kicking up as he wondered what she had to tell him so badly that she had come to find him first thing upon waking.

  Hey.

  He quirked a smile. Hello.

  I need to ask you for a favor.

  He gave her an ironic bow. Whatever my mistress commands.

  Her mouth tightened even more, lines of strain showing around her eyes. She looked away, tears threatening.

  Lucas felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

  “I’m sorry,” he said aloud, stepping close enough to touch her. But he didn’t. Hedvika might be watching. He was not technically breaking the rules, since Bri had sought him out, but there was no need to test Hedvika’s leniency.

  Bri blinked her tears back and straightened her shoulders.

  Look, I know things are shitty between us right now, but we don’t have time to talk about our fucked up relationship. Please, I just need your help.

  His eyebrows shot up. Relationship?

  Of course. What can I do?

  She glanced away and bit her lip. I need you to promise not to ask questions, just do this for me.

  He nodded.

  “Okay.” Her expression relaxed, though her spine was still strung tight as a bowstring. There’s something tucked into the back of my pants. I need you to take it–in a way that the crows don’t see what you’re doing–and hide it in your cache.

  She wanted him to reach down her pants? And they had a relationship?

  His back bowed with a hearty laugh as he gazed up at the crystal blue sky, taking back everything he’d thought about Hedvika’s plan. He swung Bri into his arms and twirled them both in a circle. He didn’t kiss her, but their lips were close enough to share the same breath. He felt her heartbeat flutter against his chest and watched the shadows of dawn dance across her closed eyelids.

  Keeping her wrapped in one arm, his other hand slid along her backside, as he’d been longing to do for months. Thighs, hips, to the small of her back. He found the object, something hard wrapped in cloth, and banished it to his cache with a thought. He pressed the flat of his hand there, locking them tightly together for one final turn.

  When he set Bri on her feet, her heart was beating double-time.

  He smirked. Done.

  Thank you. She sighed and looked at the crow in the tree again. Promise me one more thing–that you won’t take it out again until I ask for it.

  He hesitated a beat, even more curious now what secrets she was keeping, and wondering if making these promises explicitly broke any of Hedvika’s rules. He decided Bri’s trust and faith in him were worth the risk. Clearly, the plan was working and soon he would be free of these stipulations.

  I promise, he said, with a sincere bow this time.

  Bri stared at him a moment, seeming to search for what else to say. She turned to go but paused by the statue again. “Is she…treating you well?”

  He smiled, touched by her concern. “I am well. And you? Are you comfortable? Do you need anything from my cache?”

  “Good,” she said, nodding absently. “See you at dinner.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  That night, instead of music, Hedvika and Ryder played cards by the fire. Lucas leaned on the back of Ryder’s chair, watching with half-interest, keeping his senses keen for the attack he knew must be coming. Bri was sitting between them, even less interested in the game. She stared into the flames, her eyes occasionally swirling with white fog.

  In one of those foggy moments, she gasped and covered her mouth, looking straight at him, her face stricken.

  In that heartbeat of distraction, he did not sense the blow coming.

  Emil was swift and silent, and Lucas had no time to react when the giant stepped up behind him and the hammer smashed into his side, sending him flying across the room.

  By the time Lucas was on his feet, Emil had wrapped his hand around Bri’s neck and lifted her out of her chair until her feet were dangling.

  Lucas conjured his sword and leapt through the air, slicing the bearkin’s arm clean off with one upward strike. Bri tumbled to her seat with an oof and shrieked when the severed limb landed in her lap, still spraying blood.

  Lucas tossed it away from them and bent to check that she was alright. Her eyes widened, and he ducked as the hammer sailed through the space his head had just been occupying.

  What in hell’s seven winds?

  That blow would have taken his head clean off! It had missed Bri by inches.

  He yanked Bri out of the chair and shoved her toward the doorway. When she was safely away, he cut into a spinning attack with his sword, barely missing the arm holding the hammer.

  Emil cached the hammer and shifted into his bear, all four limbs intact. He stood on his rear paws and roared at Lucas.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Bri cried to Hedvika.

  “Tonight’s challenge is a fun one, Bri. You get to see all your wolf has to offer,” Hedvika answered, dropping all pretense of the card game. Ryder flitted through the shadows behind her anxiously.

  Emil shifted back, his arm restored, and picked up the hammer again. He lifted
it above his head in a two-handed grip and charged straight at Bri.

  Lucas stepped between them. The hammer swung down in a wide arc. He blocked it with his sword, the force driving him to one knee. He forced the hammer aside, letting the weight of the weapon do some of the work for him. Using his own momentum to continue the stroke, he sliced deep into Emil’s side, cutting through rib bone.

  Blood flowed, but Emil barely flinched as he cranked the hammer back for another swing.

  Lucas ducked and parried the tireless blows, but each time, he had to give ground. Emil sustained and healed a score of cuts and warning jabs, his skin painted red.

  He tried to draw the bear away from Bri, to the other side of the room, and it became clear that Emil wasn’t attacking Lucas–he was trying to go through him.

  He wants to harm my mate, Lucas thought, and he fought with less mercy, hacking away pieces of the bearkin. Severing tendons. Stabbing at organs. Until the floor was slick with his blood. The bear recovered a little less quickly each time.

  Bri was sobbing in the corner behind him.

  But Emil would retreat, shift, heal, and attack again. His magic showed no signs of waning. When it was clear Hedvika had no intention of ceasing the barrage, Lucas stopped allowing the retreat and went on the offense. It was unfair–almost dishonorable–but the wounds received in bear form did not heal with shifting, slowing him down bit by bit.

  Still, he came.

  The floor was slicked with his blood, the walls spattered with it, even Hedvika’s bronze face glistened with a few ruby drops.

  Lucas was tiring but had far fewer injuries and a much deadlier weapon. The bear was large and strong, but he was no match in skill. Lucas did not even need to use magic.

  After several long minutes of bloodshed, Emil shifted back to the bear once more, and immediately sat down. A hollow moan of pain spiraled from his throat and he turned to Hedvika.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, a moue of displeasure pinching her mouth as Ryder bent to whisper something in her ear.

  Emil roared, in rage this time, and charged directly at Lucas. As the bear. Though his charge was no more than a slow, limping gait.

  Their eyes locked, and Lucas saw something alive–someone–in the other Kinde’s gaze for the first time. Emil the man was empty, detached. The bear’s eyes were swimming with emotion. Despair and hope. Determination and resignation.

  Lucas glanced at his blade, unsure what to do. Try to spare his life and make him suffer more? Or end this with one sure stroke? Would Hedvika let him live after such an afront? And if he was forced to end her as well–end this all–would Bri ever forgive him?

  “Enough!” Bri shouted.

  Emil halted in his tracks.

  Bri stepped between them and forced Lucas’s blade lower. She looked directly at Hedvika and said, in a calmer voice, “Please, stop this.”

  Over Hedvika’s shoulder, a look of relief crossed Ryder’s face.

  “You’ve seen enough?” Hedvika asked with a queenly wave of her hand.

  “Y-yes.” Bri swallowed thickly. Tracks of salt glistened on her cheeks.

  “And do you claim him?”

  Bri stared at the blood-slicked floor, and Lucas’s heart plummeted to his feet.

  You have lost her.

  Was there ever any way that he could have won? He never should have brought her here! He looked at his sword again. One well-placed stab…

  “Yes. I claim him. He’s my wolf, and your game is finished.”

  Lucas almost staggered with relief, but tensed again, wondering how the enchantress would respond to Bri’s challenging tone.

  Hedvika’s lips twisted into her catlike smile as she regarded him. “Well then, congratulations, sister. As I said before, he is a fine specimen.”

  Bri stiffened, bowed her head, and walked out. She didn’t so much as glance at him.

  “Well done, Emil,” Hedvika said, stepping up to him. She sank her fingers into his blood-caked fur, and he leaned into her. Her hands began to glow, and he slowly healed, nuzzling her neck and licking the blood from her face.

  When he was healed, she yanked back from him. “Ugh. Now, go bathe in the river.”

  Emil lumbered off, and Hedvika looked at her rusty hands with a bemused expression.

  She enjoys bloodshed.

  She turned chestnut eyes on him. “Well done, wolf.”

  Lucas exhaled as a vise that had taken hold of his heart loosened a few degrees. He bowed.

  Ryder clapped slowly. “Yes, wonderful performance. I haven’t seen this much blood in an age.”

  Hedvika leaned into Lucas and spoke in a low purr as she lifted the necklace off him and over his head. “Go and comfort your mistress. The full moon approaches.”

  Translation: the game was not over, he’d graduated to level two.

  ***

  Bri went to her room to get some fresh clothes and a lantern, and then practically ran directly to the underground hot springs below the palace. Emil had shown them to her on her fourth day, when she’d asked him if he knew a spell to heat the water in her room.

  Poor Emil!

  She sniffed back tears, clutching the bundle in her arms as she sped down the spiral stairs into the deeper caverns of the palace. How could Vika do that to him?

  How could you do that to him?

  She had known, somewhere deep down, that she had the power to stop it. That all she had to do was speak out. But she’d waited, paralyzed, knowing what would come after, what Hedvika would ask.

  She’d been a coward. He’d bled so much! And she had let it happen. At first, she had hoped Vika would end the battle before it went too far. Then she’d hoped Emil would not get up. She’d silently pleaded with him to stop, to stay down.

  He hadn’t answered.

  When Emil had charged her as the bear, she’d seen that same deep sadness in his eyes, and a protective rage had boiled in her chest and rushed out of her mouth.

  She’d almost let Lucas kill him rather than say a few stupid words.

  So she’d claimed him. Officially. Out loud. So what? As if there was any denying they were tied together.

  It doesn’t have to change anything.

  She needed to get the book before Vika imagined another hellish game for them all to play. She had to come up with a new plan, and she did her best thinking in the silent, underground pools.

  The walls and arched ceiling of the cavern were a dark blue geode that caught and reflected her small lantern flame and sparkled like a starlit sky. Thick steam covered the surface of the water and swirled over her bare feet. She stripped and hopped into the smallest and hottest of the three pools in the room to wash off the blood, then switched to the largest one, where she sometimes floated on her back for hours, staring at the fake stars.

  She didn’t hear Lucas coming, but she caught sight of another light in the tunnel and knew it was him. She ducked under the water and emerged near the center of the pool, far enough from the light that the steam hid everything but her head.

  Lucas entered, a glowing ball of flame hovering in the air by his shoulder. He’d bathed and changed into clean clothes. He moved like a ghost through the steam until he stood at the edge of the pool. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her with twin flames dancing in his eyes.

  His voice was a raspy whisper as he asked, “Are you alright?”

  A dam broke loose in her chest and Bri wiped away fresh tears, shaking her head. No, she was not alright! “That was barbaric!”

  “I know.” Remorse made the words hoarse. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “I’m sorry you had to do that. But I want to know why. Why did you agree to that stupid game in the first place? What are you trying to win? What do you stand to lose? I deserve to know.”

  He sighed and blinked up at the ceiling. “There is much that I wish I could tell you.”

  Bri frowned. He wished he could tell her? Was he under some sort of compulsion not to? It had cro
ssed her mind more than once that Hedvika may have trapped Lucas in a spell, perhaps even compelled him to stay away from her. “What can you tell me?”

  He looked pained. “Can you come closer?”

  “I’m fine here.”

  “Then, may I join you?”

  Her mouth fell open. “I’m naked.”

  “I can see that.” A sly grin crept onto his face.

  “Umm, no. We’re not skinny dipping together.”

  “May I suggest another solution?”

  Bri blinked and he was standing before her in red swim trunks, a black swimsuit dangling from his outstretched hand. She opened her mouth to issue another argument but came up blank. She didn’t need the whole pool to herself, and she would be lying if she said his presence didn’t soothe her frayed nerves. She swam toward him and donned the suit. When she had it on, Lucas dove in.

  He surfaced a few feet away.

  She drifted slowly toward the far side of the pool, where there was a ledge carved into the stone. He followed and settled beside her.

  “I hope you know I did not enjoy that.”

  Bri nodded and took his hand to offer comfort. Or maybe to take some. She had no delusions about Lucas’s ability to defeat Emil in battle now. But it had been the conflict in him, at the last second, that had made up her mind.

  Lucas had come here willing to kill, if their lives depended on it. But he was a warrior, not a butcher. He hadn’t wanted to kill Emil. Still, she knew he would have. It was the thought of Lucas’s added pain and guilt–the fact that Hedvika was using him too, using all of them for her own entertainment–that made Bri finally end it.

  Lucas swallowed, brows pinched as he studied their hands and laced their fingers together. She fought the urge to reach up and smooth out the tiny crease above his nose.

  “Briana.” Lucas’s voice was husky, with a deep rumble beneath it that made her want to lean closer. He wet his lips in what she remembered was a nervous tell of his. “I must confess something. I am not as strong as you are.”