Thorne (Random Romance)

  ‘It’s just one big wrestling match with you lot, isn’t it?’ I asked.

  ‘You have no idea,’ Ava muttered.

  Thorne, I saw with a thrill of pleasure, reverted into a child as he played with the girls. I got the feeling they were his best friends, which was somewhat adorable.

  Ambrose emerged. Half dressed. Was the man trying to kill me? Without a shirt I could see that his chest and arms (oh, Gods, his chest and arms) were covered in tattoos – way more than Thorne – and scars. So many scars I was momentarily breathless. They were everywhere. They came at him, one after the other.

  ‘I can’t get them to pick dresses,’ Ambrose complained.

  ‘Well don’t look at me,’ Ava replied. ‘When was the last time you saw me wearing a dress?’

  ‘I’ll help,’ I offered. ‘I love dresses.’

  ‘Do your worst,’ Ambrose told me, indicating the bedchamber of the girls. He then launched himself on top of his nephew and the two men started really wrestling.

  ‘The violence,’ I commented.

  ‘Honestly, do not get me started,’ Ava said. Though really – she was watching them quite happily.

  I wandered into the bedchamber and looked around at all of Sadie and Ella’s pretty things. There were moth wings everywhere. Real ones in glass cases, paintings of them on the walls, a string of paper moths hanging from the roof. I went to the cupboard and picked out matching dresses in a rich green colour I thought would look pretty with Sadie and Ella’s violet eyes.

  They came crashing in and I held the gowns up questioningly. The girls glanced at each other and then nodded decisively, hurrying to get dressed. ‘Masks?’ they said at the exact same time.

  I got an idea. Choosing two of the paper moths, I made little eye holes and tied them with string around the girls’ faces. This earned me another squeal of joy as they pretended to flap wings in front of the mirror.

  ‘Are you and Thorne married?’ Ella asked.

  ‘No. We definitely are not.’

  She shrugged with an air of indifference I found very amusing. I could guess which parent she’d picked that move up from.

  ‘If we bond it’s going to have to be with twin boys who understand the twin thing,’ Sadie sighed. The twin thing definitely sounded like something she’d heard an adult say. ‘It’s a real problem.’

  ‘I get it,’ I told her. ‘If my brother bonded before me I’d be suicidal.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  Whoops. I wasn’t very good with kids, apparently. ‘Sad.’

  ‘You’re sad already though, aren’t you?’

  I paused, looking at Ella. ‘What do you mean?’

  She shrugged, eyes darting away as though she’d been caught in trouble.

  ‘I’m not sad,’ I promised.

  ‘Will you dance with us tonight then?’

  ‘I’m not going to stop dancing with you tonight.’

  While they tried to work out how to add more moths to their outfit I went back into the living area. The adults had been waiting for me with a huge jug of wine, but despite this I found myself wanting to go back to the children and just play with them for the rest of the night. I missed my childhood. It had been so simple.

  As Ambrose passed me a goblet I sank onto a cushion beside Thorne.

  ‘To Avery,’ the King said, raising his cup. ‘And Thorne.’

  Ava and Thorne raised their glasses as though this was a normal occurrence. I belatedly followed suit.

  ‘Come on then,’ Ambrose implored. ‘What’s got you in such a sour mood?’

  ‘I think the girls are in danger,’ he said bluntly.

  Nice effort to break it to them gently, Thorne.

  ‘Hang on,’ I said quickly. ‘It might not be as bad as that.’ Even though it was. ‘The last clue to our journey was kept at the warder prison.’ I went on to explain what it meant.

  Ambrose launched himself to his feet and paced the room, fuming. ‘They’ll come in hoards.’

  ‘Let them come,’ Ava said softly, and I was thrilled to see her eyes turn red. This was the woman from the stories I’d been raised on.

  ‘To be honest,’ I said bluntly, ‘I’m not even convinced it is Sadie and Ella who are the key to all of this.’

  ‘Why?’ Ambrose demanded.

  I licked my lips, considering my words. ‘I touched them, and I didn’t feel … that kind of burden.’

  They stared at me. ‘Explain,’ Ava ordered sharply.

  Wow. Manners had really gone out the window. ‘I can feel the weight of hearts,’ I admitted, no idea how to better put it.

  Ambrose wouldn’t stop pacing. ‘Is that supposed to make sense to us?’

  ‘Finn’s a warder,’ Thorne explained. ‘Forbidden from using her powers.’

  ‘Why?’

  Thorne generously waited for me to explain that one. I sighed. ‘I’m too emotionally unstable to control them.’

  Ambrose and Ava stared at me again. I was getting a tad uncomfortable with it.

  ‘I’m not, like, dangerous or anything,’ I added.

  ‘If it’s not the girls, then who?’ Ava asked.

  ‘I don’t know. We need to figure that out.’

  ‘Thorne,’ Ambrose said, but he wasn’t looking at Thorne. ‘He was the one who figured it out in the first place.’ He’d turned to his wife. ‘Remember? What did he say?’

  Ava looked down at her hands, and when she started speaking it was like an intonation of something ancient and dark. ‘My job was to torture warders. I have a whole bag of tricks for withstanding their black magic. While I worked I learnt things that can never be unlearnt. Things like the real truth behind the bond.’

  I looked at Thorne, unable to imagine how he must feel hearing his da’s words. His eyes were glued to his aunt and he was completely expressionless.

  Ava wasn’t finished. ‘That a way to break the power of it exists. There is a spell – a piece of magic. A way to stop the people of Kaya from dying in pairs.’ She stopped. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end.

  ‘You remember every word,’ Ambrose said softly.

  ‘I remember every word your brother ever said to me,’ she answered.

  Thorne had his head in his hands and was massaging his scalp wearily. ‘So how do we find out what he knew? He’s dead, in case anyone had forgotten.’

  The fire crackled and popped. It was amazingly hot, and for the first time since I’d been in Pirenti I actually wished for fresh, cool air.

  ‘Frankly, I don’t really give a damn about any of this,’ Ambrose snapped. ‘What I care about is protecting my daughters from overzealous Kayan idiots.’

  ‘Bit racist,’ I pointed out and was, understandably, ignored.

  ‘So we don’t take them to the festival tonight,’ Ava said. ‘It’s too late to cancel it altogether.’

  ‘They’re going to murder us in our sleep if we don’t take them,’ he said. ‘Or more likely they’ll just sneak out.’

  ‘We’ll set guards.’

  ‘Well, look,’ I reasoned. ‘Realistically, the other teams wouldn’t be here yet. The warders gave us the only horses. So if they even made it that far, they would have had to walk out of that forest and all the way up here. Which means we had a huge head start on them. So there won’t be any overzealous Kayan idiots looking for the girls – not tonight, anyway.’

  ‘It’s too much of a risk,’ Ambrose shook his head.

  ‘They won’t be coming here to kill them,’ Ava pointed out. ‘They need them. Or think they do.’

  ‘So it’s okay if they kidnap our daughters?’ he snapped.

  ‘The four of us, plus Ma, plus a host of guards,’ Thorne said. ‘We’ll all watch them, all night. Won’t take our eyes off them. Remain armed and alert.’

  ‘They truly couldn’t have made it here yet?’ Ava clarified.

  ‘Not unless they acquired mounts along the way, but there are no towns on that stretch of land – we slept in the open a
nd saw no one. Plus Jonah – my brother – said he would watch for any other teams and make sure they didn’t come here.’

  ‘Most weren’t soldiers,’ Thorne pointed out. ‘We beat every one of them in the challenges. There was the odd warder among them, the odd fighter. But they wouldn’t come here so boldly and demand the King and Queen of Pirenti for their only children. They’re just normal people. They’d be much too frightened.’

  ‘We all stop drinking now,’ Ava ordered, and we put our cups down.

  ‘It’s not a good idea,’ Ambrose tried, but I could hear him wavering.

  ‘Do you really think they could get through the two of us?’ Ava asked him softly, meeting his eyes. ‘Do you think anyone could?’

  He looked at her for a long, intimate moment, then shook his head. ‘Not in this life.’

  So we dispersed to get ready.

  I’d never felt such purpose in my blood. Not even when entering the tournament or looking for the clue. The four of us together would make sure not a hair was harmed on those children’s heads. I didn’t know what I could do, so inept at fighting, but I knew that some dark part of me was readying itself.

  Will I kill again?

  Yes.

  Chapter 13

  Falco

  I’d been following Quillane for a few days now. It was quite possibly the behaviour of a man who was losing his mind – why in the world would I not just ask her? – but I couldn’t stop myself. She worked hard, my Empress. That was for damn sure. Watching her filled me with sadness, because I could see how much she needed my help, and how lonely she was in this palace.

  Each night she disappeared into the secret tunnel and she did not come back out until morning. Which was very intriguing.

  I decided to wait until she left one day and break into the tunnel. Curiosity was burning my insides. And the desperate hope that she was not betraying me in some way. Secrets usually led to something of the kind.

  It all went from my mind on the day we had word from the warder prison in Querida.

  Dren and Galia of Limontae, once teachers of the soul magic at the warder training school, once first tier warders with unrivalled power. Once committed to life imprisonment for the slaughter of twelve warder novices. The most dangerous prisoners we had ever held in custody.

  Escaped.

  I knew with perfect dread that they would be coming for us. Because on the day they were captured, it was reported by more than a score of witnesses that Dren and Galia had proclaimed themselves the true rulers of Kaya.

  And I had made myself into the easiest target there had ever existed.

  Thorne

  Finn and Ava disappeared to get dressed, but as I was leaving Ambrose asked me to wait a moment. I lingered, resisting the pull of the big painting that hung over the fireplace, then realising it was futile and going to look at it properly. I’d looked at this painting a lot as a kid. It had been Ma’s but for whatever reason she hadn’t wanted to keep it in her rooms with all of his other possessions.

  There stood Ambrose and Thorne over their battle victory, arms about each other, smiling very different smiles. I grew more and more like him – my father – with each passing day. My features were taking on the bluntness in his. I had bits and pieces from Ambrose too – the sharper cheekbones, the heavier brow.

  Ambrose returned to stand beside me, but he didn’t say anything. I waited, feeling uncomfortable. There were dead bodies all around them and they didn’t even care.

  ‘He spoke very little when he was a child,’ my uncle eventually told me. ‘But he was gentle. It was not in his nature to be cruel. Our mother brutalised him and made him that way.’

  Why were we talking about him? Why were we always talking about him? ‘Easy words and excuses,’ I said flatly. ‘She didn’t make you that way.’

  ‘I was the second son.’

  ‘You were stronger.’

  Ambrose shook his head, gazing at his brother. ‘No. Not at all.’

  I was tired of this. I had never asked about Da, and I didn’t ever intend to. I didn’t know why people kept thinking it their place to tell me, when I didn’t want to know. Maybe they thought it helped, but it didn’t.

  ‘He had records,’ Ambrose told me finally. ‘I’ve managed to keep them private since he died. I wanted to give them to you when … I don’t know when. When you were ready.’

  ‘But I’ve never been ready?’

  ‘I didn’t get the feeling you would want to read them.’

  He was right about that.

  ‘But they may shed light on what he knew of the bond. It would be worth taking a look.’

  ‘Are you asking me to read them?’

  ‘I’m just telling you they exist. I’ve been reading pages of them for the last twenty years, but I don’t have the time to sit down and make any kind of thorough search. And if we are to establish the girls as unconnected to the bond then we need to figure out who is.’

  I could feel a headache coming on. Poring through my father’s old records and reading his thoughts was the last thing I wanted to do. At least that’s what I told myself. But deep down, so far down I almost didn’t know it existed, there was a part of me coming alive at the thought of getting answers, once and for all, to who the slaughterman of the north really was.

  I nodded, turning to leave.

  ‘Thorne.’

  I paused.

  ‘Some of it is very disjointed. His time in the ice … I think it sent him a bit mad.’ Ambrose looked weary and sad.

  I shook my head, unaccountably angry. ‘Torturing people will probably do that to you,’ I replied, voice hard. Quickly I walked to the door, but stopped almost against my will. I struggled to hold the question in – I didn’t need the answer. He didn’t have this power over me; I wouldn’t give it to him.

  But in the end I was fooling myself. I asked it. ‘What was it, Ambrose? This thing he had over you all? How did you love a monster?’

  My uncle gazed at me, and his eyes seemed far too knowing. They saw straight through me, to the lonely little boy I kept hidden, the one who yearned for his da.

  ‘He was loyal,’ Ambrose said simply. ‘And when you have cause to see what that truly means, you will understand it to be one of the most important things in this world.’

  I was scattered and unsettled as I dressed. Clothes and a mask had been laid out for me on my bed, so I donned them without thinking and went to collect Ma and Finn. Roselyn opened the door, dressed in a red velvet cloak, the deep colour of vein’s blood. Her face was adorned with a rusty coloured fox mask, and she looked sly. I kissed her on both cheeks, her familiar scent serving to calm some of my rattled nerves.

  ‘You look so handsome,’ she told me. ‘I must go ahead.’

  I nodded, knowing she would need time to check that there was the right number of people for her to enter.

  Moving quietly into the chamber, I looked around for Finn. The shadows were long, for not many lamps had been lit. Only one or two here and there, sending flickering rosy light against the walls.

  I should wait. Call out to her. It wasn’t appropriate for me to enter a bedchamber alone and without a word. But I did. Maybe it was the conversation with Ambrose. Maybe it was the prospect of reading Thorne’s records. Maybe it was the girls in danger, or the mission, or the whole lot of it put together.

  But most probably it was her scent, reaching out to me as if to call my name, and most probably it was her, just her, that made me keep moving.

  She was waiting for me in front of the window. The world beyond was grey and star-speckled. Finn was ebony. Her gown had been made of black lace, her cloak black fur. Over her eyes was a raven mask, its wings spread in flight. And her eyes. They were the blackest things of all.

  I stopped, taking her in. Feeling her presence like a kick to the guts. My hands were literally trembling with desire; I could hardly focus my eyes. Her hair had been pulled onto the top of her head, making her look more severe than usual.

>   ‘It’s not fair for you to look like that,’ she told me.

  Me?

  Finn turned to gaze out the window. Below, the festival had begun. Faint sounds drifted up to us; laughter and voices. I moved to stand behind her, close but not touching. Her perfume was in my nose, but more than that, I could smell her skin, her hair, her desire.

  Reaching out to place my hands on either side of hers where they rested on the windowsill, I leant in close, dropping my face to her neck. She could feel my breath against her skin; I still hadn’t touched her, but I could sense the shiver run through her. Her lips parted.

  ‘This will be your home one day,’ she said.

  ‘But not for a long time.’ I breathed her in, nose brushing her hair, the skin beneath her ear, along her jaw. ‘Until then, I will follow you anywhere.’

  Finn tilted her face towards mine.

  My hands traced up her arms, to her shoulders, where I drew back her cloak and let it fall to the floor. My lips ducked to her shoulder, my tongue tasted her neck.

  She shifted, pressing herself against me. I could feel a tremble move through her at my touch and I wondered what she was feeling.

  My fingers went to her hips, then up along her waist to trace her breasts.

  This was not like the first time, which now felt decades ago. In the tavern in Kaya that first night of our journey, when she had demanded a kiss and then run. Nor the second, when we had touched and I had kissed everywhere but her lips. Nor last night when I had pressed my mouth desperately to hers, only to have her feel nothing.

  This was something entirely different. I felt a thousand years older. We knew all the pieces of each other. We knew exactly what we were doing, what it meant to be touching each other, what it was forging in the space between our bodies. She knew how I felt about her.

  My hand went to her throat. Tilted her chin towards me. She was breathing hard as our eyes met for one long, long moment.

  My mouth found hers. Lips touched, parted. Our breath was one. Her tongue traced mine.

  I spun her to face me and lifted her onto the windowsill. Her legs parted and I moved my hand under her skirt, the backs of my fingers gliding up the soft skin of her thigh. She shivered at the touch, opened her legs wider.