Would she be responsible for the fall of Calles? Again, she felt a tearing sensation, as if contradictory forces would pull her apart. Even though she tried to repress it, a low groan escaped, and she bent at the waist.
Goddess, I can’t do this.
“Lily,” Wulf said. “What’s wrong?”
Dimly, she was aware that the hateful sardonic tone had vanished, but still, his presence was all but unbearable. She felt too raw, too wounded.
“Don’t look at me,” she gritted while her tears dropped onto the marble floor. “You invaded my private space just because you got mad. You don’t get to see this. This is mine, do you hear? Mine to deal with, not yours.”
Silence throbbed to the beat of the blood pounding in her face. Still bent over, she focused on the floor underneath her feet, on taking her next breath.
She was excruciatingly aware of the moment when he shifted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his blurred figure squat beside her. He had angled his face away.
“I’m not looking at you.” His words were quiet and even. Nonaggressive. “You abbey women are fierce about your boundaries, aren’t you?”
She coughed. It was not quite a laugh. “Damn right we are. Defending boundaries is every bit a tenet of our faith as nurturing those at our hearth and practicing the healing arts.”
Still not looking, he reached toward her. His fingers ran lightly up her thigh to her waist, searching her body by touch until he found her forearm and curled his fingers around it. Slowly he tightened his grip, applying pressure until that became the focal point, not the tumultuous crash of thoughts, emotions and images roiling in her mind.
Like the tide as it ebbed, the visions receded. No longer feeling quite so crushed, she took a deep breath, then another, and the tears stopped. Scrubbing the wetness from her face, she straightened.
He stood when she did. Instead of releasing her, he ran his hand down her arm to clasp her fingers lightly. “That has got to be the most unsatisfactory argument I’ve ever had.”
She almost laughed again, but damn it, no, she wouldn’t. “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think you realize how crazy it is that you climbed my tower.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, the blind spots my scout mapped are useless for anything other than a small, targeted strike force. You might get an assassin up here, but not a full-scale invasion.”
She said dryly, “A danger no Chosen in the past several hundreds of years has faced.”
He shrugged. “Fix metal bars at the windows and you’ll be safe enough.” Pausing to scoop up a leather bag, he led her to the array of floor pillows in front of the fireplace. “And lady, you don’t have any high ground from which to call me crazy.”
When they reached the pillows, he tugged her down.
She shouldn’t sit with him. She should do something else, like take advantage of his relaxed demeanor to pull away from his hold, run for the door, throw off the bar, and scream for help. She had seen for herself just how fast he was, but he was already half sitting. She might get away with it.
But she was tired, and that sounded like so much more hassle than she wanted to face. The consternation, the alarm, the certain violence.
He couldn’t escape out the tower without being killed, so he would have to take her hostage. The whole abbey would be thrown into an uproar, and she and Wulf would have to go out into the cold again, and she’d only just gotten back.
Was it wrong of her to want to just sit? It didn’t feel wrong. She glanced at his psyche where the shadow of a wolf lay on its paws, its entire attention focused on her. The wolf was beautiful. It was a dangerous, perfectly natural creature. She kept hunting for the monster in him, but the monster wasn’t there.
Heaving a sigh, she gave up, sat beside him, and curled her legs underneath her. “What are you doing?”
“I brought your presents.” Opening the bag, he pulled out the chocolate bars and the can of Chef Boyardee along with the jars of caviar and salt bread. “I also brought supplies for myself. Climbing in cold weather is hungry work.”
He had brought presents to a fight. Oh goddess. What did she feel? Exasperation? Laughter? What? Throwing her arms wide, she flung herself back onto the pillows. “It’s going to be dark soon. You need to go, Wulf.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I can’t go out in that. If I try to make that climb in the dark, it’d kill me. I’m going to have to stay until morning.”
He was lying, shamelessly. He had to know she could sense it.
She squinted at his face, which remained in profile. He still hadn’t looked at her. How strange, that such an ephemeral boundary would hold him when he had trampled over almost everything else. There was a sophisticated reasoning behind it that she couldn’t quite grasp.
“You know I can tell you’re lying, don’t you?” she demanded.
The corner of his lips pulled into a smile. “You’ve already proven you don’t want to hurt me, so we’ll have to find a way to coexist for a while.”
She glared at him. “Have you made a plan for how your witch is going to cloak you when you go?”
He shrugged. “I thought I might know someone who would agree to help me out.”
He was impossible. She couldn’t throw him out the window. She wouldn’t call for help. If he tried to leave during daylight, he would almost certainly be seen unless she cloaked him. And if she didn’t agree to help him, he would be stuck in her tower until the next night.
Of course she would help him. She couldn’t stand idly by and watch him get killed, and he knew it. Besides, it might be the only way she could get rid of him.
As she debated, he said gently, “Put it all aside for now. Take a break from whatever demons are crushing you. What was your final verdict on the caviar? Yes or no?”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, “No.”
“Great. All the more for me.” He set the caviar aside. “Now, about this Chef Boyardee. You are going to owe me for this.”
“What do you mean?” She snorted. “I don’t owe you anything.”
His smile deepened. Reaching behind him, he dangled the can in her general direction. “What is the verdict? Do you want this? Yes or no?”
Damn it, she did. She hadn’t eaten much since the late supper Gordon had brought to her tent, and she was hungry. “Yes.”
“Then you owe me the story of how you came to like this food from Earth, and why.” He paused. “You also owe me a taste so I can see what all the fuss is about.”
Okay, he finally got her. Curling on her side, she laughed. “You are going to hate it. Everybody does. It’s horrible. Objectively, even I know that. It shouldn’t even be called food.”
“Now I’m even more intrigued to hear your story.” Using a knife, he opened the can by puncturing the edges of the lid repeatedly until he could bend back the metal. Cautiously, he inspected the orange contents and sniffed at it.
Laughing harder, she sat and held out her hand. “Here, give it to me. And stop trying so hard to avoid looking at me. It’s all right now.” She added quickly, “But it’s still not all right that you’re here.”
“I am well aware of that, Lily.” Turning his head, he looked into her eyes and smiled. “Yet here we sit. I propose we make the best of it.”
~ 8 ~
He was supposed to be brutal and domineering, not charming and insouciant. Now he really wasn’t living up to his reputation.
The intensity in his gaze was too much. She reached for his knife, and he let her take it. “This is supposed to be heated, but I like it cold too.”
Using the tip of his knife, she fished out a piece of ravioli and ate it with relish while he watched her, still smiling.
When she swallowed, he rubbed the corner of her mouth gently with the ball of his thumb, then licked it.
Dear goddess. Warmth washed over her skin.
He smiled. “Tell me the story.”
She surveyed the contents in the can. “I’m not actually from Ys.
I used to live in a place called southern Indiana.”
He puzzled over that information, then said, “The language on the can is English.”
“Yes. Indiana is in the United States, in North America.”
Opening a jar of caviar and a packet of salt bread, he dipped a corner of a wafer in the jar and then popped it in his mouth. Around the bite, he said, “You must have had quite a journey. Ys doesn’t have any crossover passageways to America.”
“No, all our passageways are connected to Europe.” She looked into the cheery flames leaping in the fireplace. How could she tell this story quickly? “My early childhood was… complicated. When I was a toddler, we were poor, and we lived in a small town. My mother drank, and she had several men come and go until one of them stayed. He cooked meth, which is a very addictive, illegal drug.”
As she spoke, his subtle playful attitude had disappeared, and he watched her intently. “That doesn’t sound like a good home for a child.”
“No,” she said. “Mind you, I was too young to comprehend most of it. When the abbey took me in, the priestesses scried to find out where I was from and what had happened to me. I’m sure I breathed chemicals I shouldn’t have, and I was mostly left to my own devices, but I didn’t really understand, you know? I do remember that one of my favorite meals was Chef Boyardee and a packet of M&M’s—which is a kind of chocolate candy—for dessert. Occasionally I still like to eat them.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How did you get from there to here?”
She blew out a breath. “Camael led me here. I was a strange child, and… Let’s just say I saw things that weren’t physically present. I still do.”
He frowned. “Didn’t your mother ever have you tested for magic?”
She said wryly, “I don’t think she was that functional. Anyway, one night a shining woman walked into my bedroom. She kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘Come with me, little love.’ She was so beautiful, and I was very excited, and I asked if she would be my new mommy. She told me, ‘In a way, I will. But you must be brave as a lion and do as I say.’ So I did. I took my pillow and my stuffed bunny, and I walked out of the house.”
“How old were you?” He took the can from her, scooped out a ravioli, and ate it.
Laughing at the face he made, she replied, “I was three. Outside, the shiny woman disappeared, but I could hear her voice, and I could feel when she nudged me. Our house sat at the edge of town, and she led me into the forest, past the ruins of a building, and along a creek—and as I walked, everything around me changed. Suddenly it was daylight, and I was in a field, and there was no creek, nor were there any ruins. I had walked down a crossover passageway.”
At this point in the story, his gaze never left her face. “Were you frightened?”
Shrugging, she told him, “Sure, a couple of times. But at first I was too excited to get to my new home and mommy. Then I was bored. After that I got used to it, I guess. When I was found, apparently I’d been wandering the countryside for more than a month.”
“This story is killing me. You were three?” He shook his head. “It’s a miracle you survived. What did you eat?”
She took the can back from him. “I ate the mushrooms and the berries the goddess told me to eat and drank at streams when she told me to drink. I had my bunny and my pillow, and I slept in the woods.”
He blew out a breath. “Nobody can survive on berries and mushrooms for a month, especially not a small growing child.”
She laughed. “I know, right? They told me I was in remarkable shape for everything I’d been through—my teeth were perfect, and I was healthy, and fit, and very, very dirty.”
“In Ys.”
“Yes, in Ys.” Scraping the sides of the can, she carefully licked the sauce off the blade. “Since discovering a new crossover passageway is officially a very big deal, Raella sent priestesses to verify everything in person. They interviewed everyone in the town and searched for ten miles in every direction.” She paused. “They found the creek and the ruins—they learned it had once been a courthouse—but there was no passageway. The house where I’d lived had burned to the ground early one morning. The fire had killed my mother and her boyfriend in their sleep, but they never discovered the body of a child. That’s all I know. The abbey took me in, and I’ve been here ever since.”
Setting the empty can aside, she avoided looking at him. While the consternation and awe she saw at times in other people’s faces was understandable, it also made her feel lonely and isolated. She didn’t want to see that in his expression.
Long, lean fingers came under her chin, and he coaxed her around to face him. Feeling cranky, she complied. Fine. How he felt about her was irrelevant anyway.
What she saw in his gaze melted away her crankiness. His eyes were alight with… admiration? Respect? “I am beyond honored to meet that brave little girl.”
That was a stupid thing to say. She had no business feeling touched by it or warmed in any way. “That little girl has been gone for twenty-four years.”
“Of course she’s not gone. She still lives inside you, and you have her magic and her bravery.” He caressed her cheek. “My advance scout reported that, while he was here, he heard people talking of the new Chosen. They said she was kind and thoughtful and a true visionary in every sense of the word. Your people love you.”
Despite the harsh words she and Gennita had exchanged, she knew it was true. Her people did love her. The ones she had sent out to fight and die loved her. Wulf’s face disappeared in a blur.
He said, “Don’t let those demons back in, Lily.”
She had to push her lips together hard before she could whisper, “I sent people out to fight today. I sent friends out to fight today, and some of them won’t come back.”
A long silence greeted those words. “Was this your first time?”
Nodding, she swiped at the tears that spilled over. “Like I said—this is mine to deal with. But today was a hard day.”
Cupping the back of her neck, he kissed her forehead. His lips were warm and firm. “In case you were wondering, no, it doesn’t get easier. You’ll need to find ways to cope with it.”
“I know. And I need to find ways to better handle opposition and conflict. I had a bad run-in with one of the elders on the council earlier. I don’t think our relationship is ever going to be the same.”
He murmured as if to himself, “You’re not going to let me ride in and fix all your problems, are you?”
With a snap of focus, she met his gaze. “What do you think?”
He chuckled. “I think I just came up against one of those boundaries again.” Sobering, he continued. “I might not be able to fix your problems, but I’ve been in command for a lot longer than you. If I might offer a small piece of advice, don’t be too nice tomorrow. Discourse and disagreement are one thing, but don’t let anyone challenge your authority or show you disrespect. You’re the one in charge, not them.”
She groaned and clapped her hands over her face. “She was one of my teachers. I used to sit on her lap for story time.”
“Poor Lily.” He rubbed her back. “Do you still need to sit on her lap for story time?”
“What?” She straightened and glared at him. “No!”
Wulf loved watching how her gaze sparked, so much so that he was tempted to needle her further. But behind that flash of fire, there was real exhaustion, and dark smudges circled her eyes.
Instead, he shrugged. “Sounds like you know things have moved on. While you haven’t told me what you two said to each other, maybe she needs to be reminded of that too.”
The corners of her mouth turned down. “I’ll think it over.”
“Good.” He was still hungry. Now that she no longer needed his knife to eat the appalling orange food, he spread more caviar on salt bread and ate. “Don’t mind me. Go ahead and help yourself to the chocolate.”
While he braced for another argument, this time she surprised him a
nd reached for the candy. “You have destroyed my integrity. I won’t forget this.”
He nudged her shoulder with his. “No one need ever know about the chocolate and that other weird orange stuff. Your secret is safe with me.”
Giving him a lopsided smile, she broke a chocolate bar into pieces. “We’ve talked more than enough about me. What about you? What was your childhood like?”
“Mine was as straight and uncomplicated as an arrow. Nothing cutthroat, no funny business, no disappearing crossover passageways. I roamed a little too far sometimes, I was cosseted by everyone, and my curfew was my stomach. I was always home by supper.”
“Your mother was lady of Braugne, correct?”
“That’s right.” When he finished the caviar, he ate the last of the salt wafers, then looked around with regret. He was still hungry. “Her first husband died after she had Kris. After a few years, she remarried and gave birth to me. I was always thrilled that he was the heir. There was no way in hell I wanted to rule Braugne.”
He still didn’t. Now he wanted to rule all of Ys.
She hesitated, then said, “You’re so sure Varian had your brother killed… Do you have proof?”
Instead of answering right away, he leaned back on one elbow as he regarded her. Scooting around, she turned to face him and leaned on her side too, propping her head on the heel of one hand.
The glow of the firelight gilded her skin with gold. At first he hadn’t noticed her in the group on the dock. All his attention had been on her pretty, fiery prime minister.
Then, gradually, Lily had captured more and more of his attention, until now he couldn’t look away from her.
He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, and how sophisticated the subtle play of her expressions were. And he couldn’t stop touching her.
Capturing her hand, he played with her fingers. “Braugne has always been a cash-poor kingdom. Our country is mountainous, splendid, and unforgiving. We can feed and house our own, and our goats and sheep are some of the hardiest stock a farmer could ever hope to have, but to date, our biggest exports have been iron, a little copper, and salt from mining.”