Page 75 of Wings of Ice and Steel

Maybe she would.

Maybe it was worth the risk. Curse be damned.

Melixanthe gave her a curt signal to shift from across the sand, and Ariadnne huffed, somewhat sheepishly, as she followed the command, scooping her tunic and flinging it over her head.

She turned to where the company had gathered for their debriefing. Nieve stood beside Josef, eyes fixed on Ariadnne, barely listening. Ariadnne took two paces towards her when Melixanthe released the team, beckoning Nieve.

‘A word.’

Without a glance Ariadnne’s way, Melixanthe led Nieve off the sands, leaving her alone, cursing her inability to follow.

*

A cloying worm of worry wriggled through Ariadnne’s mind as she struggled through Brentworth’s lecture on Eastern customs that afternoon. She was usually bored during his lectures, but today the bond she shared with Nieve kept her alert, focused, but not on verbs. Her mate was upset. Very upset, and Ariadnne didn’t know why. It led her to fret as she was led back to her rooms, not improving as the afternoon dragged on.

The door clicked and Sascha entered, the welcome on Ariadnne’s lips turning to confusion as she noted Sascha’s flustered appearance and the lines wrinkling her brow as she hurriedly deposited the tray.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, concerned.

Sascha didn’t meet her eyes. ‘I can’t stay,’ she said brusquely. ‘I’ve too much to do in the main castle.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Ariadnne pushed again, but Sascha ignored her, brushing her hands and heading for the door, pausing briefly.

‘I’ll pick the tray up in the morning.’ A frown creased her brow as she seemed to dither over her next words. With an exasperated sigh she dropped her hands to her sides. ‘Look. I’m not an idiot, Ari. It’s been obvious that you’ve been mooning over someone. I’m happy for you that you’ve found her. I am. But you can tell… Nieve? Is it? That I don’t appreciate her strongarming me into breaking the rules. I’ll do it. This once. She looked bloody desperate. I don’t know if you’ve had a fight or what it is, but I hope you can sort it out. Don’t say I never do anything for you.’ With that she spun and exited the room in a flurry of skirts, leaving Ariadnne wide-eyed and confused in her wake. What did Sascha mean? She frowned at the door, mind racing as to the possibilities.

She finished her meal in silence, worrying. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on that sense of Nieve, glowing like a gem embedded in her chest. The waves of worry had simmered, but she could feel her unhappiness. It made her want to tear the world down and build it again, just for her.

Hating her inability to act, Ariadnne changed into a nightgown and focused on simple tasks; teasing out her hair—wavy from the braids—and folding her tunic. Sleep itself was out of the question until she knew what was happening.

Time passed and she grew more restless, alternately staring out the window or pacing, questioning if she needed to fly back to Nieve’s room.

Out of nowhere, a surge of adrenaline speared through the bond, stabbing into her heart. Staggering to her feet she almost knocked over a side table in her rush to reach Nieve, already halfway to the window when there was a soft knock at the door. She paused, stomach churning.

Ariadnne almost thought she’d imagined it, but there it was again.

Quiet.

Insistent.

With long strides she crossed the space, holding her breath at the door as she listened. A sharp exhale, muffled through wood, then Nieve’s hushed voice.

‘Ariadnne?’

Her fingers fumbled with the handle, rushing to pull it open.

Nieve’s bright eyes met hers.

‘How?’ Ariadnne breathed, soaking in the impossible.

Her heart stuttered at how dishevelled Nieve’s normally sleek, silver hair was, as though run through too often with hands, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy.

‘Nieve, what’s wrong—’ she began, but stopped as Nieve closed the distance, crashing into her and wrapping her arms tight round her middle.

Ariadnne buried her face in her hair and inhaled, a concerned noise escaping her throat. Gently, she pulled away, forcing Nieve to meet her eyes.

‘What is it?’ she said softly. ‘You can tell me.’

She pulled her into the room and closed the door behind them, sitting her at the end of the bed. Nieve averted her eyes, but Ariadnne took her chin in a soft grip and tilted her face.