Thorne (Random Romance)

  ‘What are you doing?’ Thorne asked me, alarmed.

  ‘Best apples in the whole region.’

  Jonah and Penn climbed over and the three of us ducked low in the long grass.

  ‘You’re thieves now too?’ the prince asked, and despite his polite tone, I could hear the disapproval hidden beneath the words.

  I winked at him then crept forward, on the lookout for Linas’ dogs. I’d spent most of my life stealing these apples, and it had only taken a few bites from the sharp canine teeth to instill me with a bit of caution. As we reached the tree I swung up into the branches, while Jonah and Penn kept a lookout below. I lobbed a few down to my brother, then climbed higher, wanting the juiciest fruit from the top.

  Poking my head over the highest branches, I had a good view of the road below. Thorne was a still figure upon it, arms folded, back turned to our criminal activity. I couldn’t help smiling with amusement at the giant pole he seemed to have stuck up his backside.

  Picking as many of the best apples as I could, I stuffed them into my pockets and started swinging down. I was nearly at the ground when I heard the barking.

  A thrill struck through me and I jumped recklessly to the ground, tumbling hard and scraping my whole right side.

  ‘Penn, grab the dogs,’ Jonah told him and then we sprinted for the fence. Penn gave a low whistle and the dogs ran straight for him. I glanced over my shoulder to see them stop at his feet and give a soft whine as he made them submit with a few motions of his hand.

  Grinning, I lunged for the fence and hurdled over it, landing with a kick of the dusty road.

  ‘Where’s Penn?’ Thorne demanded worriedly.

  ‘We left him to be eaten,’ I replied, opening my pack to grab a juicy red apple. Looking straight at Thorne, I took a huge bite and gave a groan of delight. Jonah laughed and munched on his ill-gotten fruit too.

  Thorne went to the fence to look for Penn, but the boy was already climbing back over. The dogs had followed him, tails wagging for love of him.

  I threw Penn an apple as we set off.

  ‘Will I offend your delicate sensibilities if I offer you one?’ I asked Thorne. He shook his head, and I figured by the look on his face that it meant no to the apple, not the question.

  ‘She’s the meanest old bag in the realm,’ Jonah defended us.

  ‘So she deserves to be stolen from?’

  I rolled my eyes, walking ahead so I didn’t have to endure Thorne’s extremely boring self-righteousness.

  ‘You’re good with dogs,’ I heard him say to Penn.

  ‘They’re good with me,’ came the boy’s response.

  Jonah caught up to me. ‘Why did you invite the stiff?’

  I shrugged, not really sure now. ‘Thought it might be fun.’

  ‘It’s like having Da along,’ he muttered and I cracked a smile. ‘There’s something … off about him. Do you feel it?’

  I glanced over my shoulder at Thorne. He was listening intently as Penn recounted one of his favourite stories about his grandma’s dog. I knew exactly what Jonah was talking about – there was something distinctly unsettling about the northern prince. Something that chafed on a deep, instinctive level. Like a scent, but more intimate.

  I nodded once and admitted, ‘I think it’s why I invited him.’

  We stopped for lunch on a hill covered in wildflowers. Penn started picking and threading them together into a garland, too distracted to eat. Thorne was inhaling an impossible amount of food, and I couldn’t help but share an amazed look with Jonah. I wolfed down some bread and cheese myself, then hopped to my feet and moved to the very top of the hill. From here I could see the ocean, as the road we were following hugged the coast closely.

  Thorne appeared at my side. ‘Are you in pain?’

  I frowned, not understanding. He gestured to my arm, and I realised it was scraped raw and covered in dirt from when I’d jumped out of the tree. Beads of blood had slid down towards my wrist.

  ‘You didn’t notice that?’

  ‘It’s barely a scratch,’ I scoffed. Something about my warder blood had always made me more able to deal with pain than most. I had so much adrenalin running through me that I often didn’t notice wounds until they got bad.

  ‘It needs to be cleaned and wrapped.’

  I shrugged. ‘Later.’

  Thorne walked to his pack and removed his canteen, plus a bandage. I watched, surprised, as he wet the material and used it to wipe my arm clean. It stung slightly. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You may be intent on an early grave, but I’d rather not watch you get there.’

  I smiled slowly. ‘You’re right. We shouldn’t add to the number of people who die each year of a scratch on the arm.’

  I watched his face closely and saw it: the edges of his lips twitching.

  Thorne handed me the bandage and told me to wrap my arm; he hadn’t touched my skin even once in the process of cleaning it, and the realisation peaked my curiosity. In the cave, it might have been purely circumstantial that he hadn’t shaken my hand. I had offended him with the trick, after all. But to be so careful now felt deliberate and I was immediately suspicious. Though I normally tried to avoid touching people, I determined to feel Thorne’s skin before the day was out.

  As I bandaged my arm he went to pack up our lunch remains. Penn had finished his garland and presented it to me with a flourishing theatrical bow.

  ‘For you, my lady.’

  ‘Thank you, kind sir.’

  I settled the flowers atop my head, feeling Thorne’s gaze upon me.

  ‘Don’t your friends give you gifts, Thorne?’ I asked him pointedly, daring him to explain why he seemed to be staring at me with such disapproval.

  His eyes dropped a moment, then met mine bravely. ‘I don’t have any friends, Finn.’

  Which pretty much made me feel like the worst person in the world. ‘Oh,’ I blurted eloquently.

  Penn presented him with a second garland. ‘Of course you do.’

  Thorne stared at the boy, and then he reached out to take the flowers and put them on his head. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and it was such a sweet moment that I knew I shouldn’t wreck it, but I honestly couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled out of me and then I couldn’t contain it – I was giggling hysterically at the sight of the big brute wearing flowers on his head. Jonah started laughing too, and then, thankfully, so did Thorne. Pretty soon we were all cracking up. And I knew why he’d wanted to travel with us, even though we hadn’t been in any way welcoming: he had no one else.

  By sundown we’d reached a small town with a seaside tavern in which to stay the night. As we pushed our way into the crowded dining hall, I grinned to see that it had been decorated with fishing nets and sand all over the floor. Shells adorned the walls, and beautifully carved pelicans sat on the bar.

  Every patron stared at Thorne, and I saw with chilling clarity several gazes turn white. It became obvious how much danger we were all in, and I grinned. Jonah requested two rooms and I ordered us some ale. I’d be damned before I cowed in fear from these bigoted idiots. Shoving my way back through, I saw that the boys had found us a booth, and I slid in beside my brother.

  ‘Cheers!’ I announced, clanging my pitcher against Thorne’s and spilling half his drink on the table.

  He was watching the people around us with a calculating gaze. Penn was fidgeting nervously, sensing the animosity in the atmosphere. Jonah simply gazed into his ale moodily.

  ‘Gods almighty,’ I sighed. ‘You lot are boring.’

  ‘Don’t do anything stupid, Finn,’ Jonah warned.

  ‘Me?’ I asked innocently. ‘Have I ever done anything stupid in my entire life?’

  Despite his mood, it made Jonah laugh.

  Thorne wiped the spilled ale with his sleeve and I saw my chance, reaching out to do the same and pretending to bump against him. He was too swift though, removing his arm before I could get skin to skin. He gave me a funny look and I arched my eyebrows in
nocently.

  Three men arrived at our table, fishermen from the village. Wind-bitten cheeks and blond beards. Hard, white eyes.

  ‘Your kind aren’t welcome here,’ the one in the middle said to Thorne. That hadn’t taken long.

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘legally they’re welcome anywhere.’

  The fisherman scowled at me. ‘The great northern brute needs a little girl to speak for him?’

  ‘Careful,’ Jonah said. ‘You’ll sound like the northern brutes yourself with a sexist comment like that.’

  ‘Stand up and face us,’ a second man said.

  Thorne rose slowly to his feet. I could see the reluctance in every one of his muscles. And a terrible kind of resignation. They weren’t expecting his size, regardless of what they knew about men from Pirenti. He towered over them, and I saw their expressions turn to fear. Which meant there would be violence here. I could feel it.

  My hands came up without me noticing. Jonah grabbed them, squeezing them tightly to stop me from doing anything illegal.

  ‘We’re not afraid to face your kind,’ the fisherman said and to his credit, he didn’t sound frightened.

  Thorne leant forward, a strange light in his eyes, and he breathed in deeply through his nose. Very softly, so softly I almost missed it, he murmured, ‘Your scent says otherwise.’

  It struck cold inside me. And I think it did the same for every person who heard it. But the difference between them and I was that I also felt a deep, gut-wrenching thrill.

  Several things happened at once.

  The fisherman’s hand went to his cutlass –

  Jonah rose to his feet –

  Thorne reached out –

  I lurched forward –

  And then everyone froze.

  Somehow, there was a glinting knife at the neck of the fisherman. I blinked, peering around to see what looked like the glimpse of a ghost in the tavern. She was snow white and blood red. She looked like a demon and had appeared out of nowhere. And she held two long, sinister knives to the man, one at his carotid, the other at his kidneys.

  ‘Move and you’ll spill all over the floor,’ she told him gently. And Gods there was something terrifying about the sound of her voice. Something in the desire of it. I couldn’t tell if she was a child or a woman, so small and slender was she. Hair and skin so white it was purest snow; eyes of the bloodiest red I’d ever seen.

  ‘What the fuck?’ the fisherman grunted, then hissed at his friends, ‘Do something.’

  We now had the whole damned tavern watching us in alarmed silence. I imagined this must be what it was like for Thorne all the time in his own country – fighting in tavern brawls and the like – but here it was unusual for a Kayan to draw a blade against anyone. Or it had been, before the Sparrow had gained power over the south.

  The fisherman’s two friends pulled their cutlasses free and my mind raced, trying to work out what to do, but – once again – I was saved any effort.

  The girl moved, so fast I barely caught it. Her right knife swept out to take the man at her side through the fingers; his blade fell to the ground along with three of his digits. At the same time, her left knife nicked straight through the other man’s ear, taking a chunk of it, and then both knives were back in their original spot without the slightest hint that she’d moved at all.

  Screams rent the air; both men dropped to the ground to clutch at their wounds as they sprayed blood all over the sandy floorboards.

  Jonah groaned in horror at the sight of the fingers on the floor. Penn started to sing, a warbling melody of sound. But it was at Thorne that I looked, because at the sight of the blood, his eyes had turned as red as the girl’s. Which was not possible.

  My heart ratcheted out of control, pounding with painful speed. Pirenti eyes didn’t change colour. They couldn’t. Not unless …

  The sound was seeping out of the world. All I could see and hear was the prince as he faded from his own face and started breathing with a kind of animal hunger. A low growl erupted in the back of his throat; a sense of otherness in the way he moved towards the writhing men.

  The back of my neck prickled; Thorne was a berserker. And he was going to destroy the lot of us.

  ‘It’s the blood fever,’ I heard the ice girl breathe. ‘I can stop him.’

  I glanced at her; it was obvious how she meant to stop him, standing there with her knives already dripping blood.

  A mighty fist hammered into the fisherman, knocking him flying. Thorne then lifted the man who’d had half his ear cut off. With one hand around his neck, the man looked like a rag doll in the giant’s grip.

  ‘Your Majesty!’ Jonah shouted, but I doubted Thorne could hear.

  He shook his toy, then flung him away. I watched as the huge man barrelled into several other patrons; the tavern was in a flurry of terror now. They were all scrambling to get out, but it was so crowded that people were getting trampled.

  Thorne moved towards them.

  And then he stopped. I watched, knowing. I watched him lift his face and take a deep breath, scenting the air.

  I watched him turn and fix his red eyes on me.

  He could smell the magic my skin was drenched in. He was berserker: of course he could smell it. Thorne moved towards me; a sick, broken part of me was excited. My trembling hands reached for his chest; it was burning hot and like a brand against my skin.

  ‘Finn!’ I heard Jonah yell.

  I looked only at Thorne, up into his bloody eyes. He returned the gaze, but he didn’t recognise me.

  ‘Thorne,’ I said softly, almost a whisper. ‘Come back.’

  He blinked and I got exactly what I’d wanted – his bare hand reaching out to take my neck. It felt, at first, like a lover’s caress. Then it tightened.

  And within that skin to skin, I felt it. The weight of his heart. As was my gift, my curse. One I could not control, no matter how many warders forbade me from using it. Thorne bore the heaviest heart I’d ever encountered, a soul too much a burden for any man or woman to carry. There was an entire world crashing down on him, bending him, bending him so badly I didn’t know how he had not yet snapped. I felt a howling echo in my ears; against my face there was snow falling and my breath was so cold I could see it. I was dizzy with the understanding of him, with the intimacy.

  And I didn’t care, in that moment, if he squeezed the life out of me. I could feel chaos and destruction fry the air, and behind my eyes there were whispered screams; I wanted them gone from my head.

  My air was cut off. But I held his eyes, and I didn’t blink.

  That was when we heard it, both of us at the same time.

  A soft, high voice, counting quickly. It was Penn, panicked and desperate. He counted to block out the fear. Counted every time he felt uncomfortable or nervous. And as he counted now, the sound of those numbers reached something inside Thorne and he blinked. Stopped squeezing my neck.

  The counting continued and I saw him come back.

  Red seeped away and became glorious blue; the violence in his hand grew tender.

  ‘I’m here,’ he whispered, voice scraping. ‘I’m here.’

  Thorne

  Shattered bones and torn muscles. Thoughts too fleeting to hold onto. A whirlwind of movement around me, of screams and shouts and the overwhelming scent of blood, but within it all, one thing that was still.

  Her. Bright yellow eyes. Red welts around a long, slim neck. She led me through the chaos and up into a darkened room. I felt myself sink onto a bed and seep away.

  Finn

  I watched Thorne nose-dive onto the bed and pass out completely. My heart was hammering in my chest from the skin to skin. I couldn’t believe what I’d felt in his heart – it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. The kind of creature that was as far from human as I could imagine. Who was this man? Obviously the unease Jonah and I had both been feeling since meeting Thorne was because of his berserker blood, which we could have had no way to recognise, never having come in
to contact with one before.

  Age-old enemies, warders and berserkers. It struck me as I watched him sleep that I‘d acquired more excitement than I’d bargained for when bringing the northern giant along. A slow smile curled my lips. Carefully I reached my bare hand out, daring myself to touch his arm. With astonishment, I saw that my fingers trembled ever so slightly as they drew closer –

  ‘Finn,’ Jonah snapped, and I jerked away.

  We had rented two rooms and my brother hauled me into the second, where waited Penn, looking agitated.

  ‘Jone, I need to –’

  ‘Hush, Inney.’ He paced and we watched him like school children. ‘This will keep happening,’ he declared, as if it was a decision. ‘We should leave him to find his own path to Sancia.’

  My mouth fell open. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘Do I sound like I’m joking?’

  ‘You want us to leave a prince alone in a tavern after he’s been attacked?’

  ‘I don’t think he needs help protecting himself!’ Jonah snapped. ‘Am I the only one who witnessed that?’

  ‘I will stay with him,’ a soft voice said from the door. We all turned to see the snow creature with her red, red eyes. Her skin was such a pale shade that it was almost translucent – I could see the faint lines of blue veins from here, like feather-thin cracks in marble. The white hair hung cut straight over her eyes – eyes dusted with lashes of whitest white.

  I sensed something in my brother and glanced at him to see that he wore an expression unlike any I’d witnessed on him before. I braced myself, terror striking. This was it then. He was going to bond, and leave me.

  We were all expecting it, the three of us. But when she met his eyes for the first time, hers stayed bloody and his were the deep blue of an ocean floor.

  A breath left me, one of extreme relief. I wasn’t ready to let Jonah go, nowhere near ready. He was mine.

  ‘Who are you?’ I asked her.

  ‘My name is Isadora.’

  I crossed to shake her small, delicate hand and within that touch I felt an endless, glass-like sphere of water, so calm it belied reason. I stared at her, lost within the sensation of it, utterly enthralled by her. No one was naturally this calm.