Avery (Random Romance)

  Avery threw me an annoyed glance over his shoulder and slowed. ‘I don’t like you walking behind me.’

  Which meant he wanted to talk. ‘So what did you do before you met your girl, Ave?’

  ‘I was a soldier,’ he said.

  I stared at him. ‘Are you kidding?’

  He shot me a look. ‘People of any sex or size can be warriors in Kaya. With good training and a weapon you can do as much damage as the next person.’

  ‘You’re a child.’

  He shrugged. ‘You’ve killed so many of us that we have to start young these days.’

  An ugly sentence; an even uglier truth. And not the day for me to think upon it.

  As for the female soldiers – it had always made me sick to think of how vulnerable the women in the Kayan ranks were. ‘Don’t you think it’s cruel to send women into battle against men?’

  Avery sighed. ‘Ambrose,’ he said slowly, pointedly, like I was a child in need of educating, ‘there are many different kinds of prejudice. Treating a woman as if she could break at the slightest challenge is as bad as abusing her. I’ve seen women who are deadlier than even your berserkers.’

  I raised a sceptical eyebrow. Berserkers were beasts – huge men born and raised in the icecaps of Pirenti to have an unnatural lust for blood, and a rage that overtook them in the heat of battle. I’d once seen a berserker who’d been shot with fourteen arrows and was so overcome with battle fury that he didn’t even notice. I had more reason than most to understand how dangerous such men were and I didn’t believe a woman could be that deadly – but I understood Avery’s point.

  ‘They’d never be quite so obvious,’ Avery added more softly, a glint to his eye, ‘but their ferocity can be infinitely more devious.’

  My mouth quirked up at the side. ‘I think I’d like to meet one of these women of yours. They sound too good to be true.’

  What I received for that was not quite a smile, but almost, almost. The edges of his mouth and eyes relaxed, making him look just as beautiful as when I’d first seen his unconscious face. I wanted desperately to meet this Ava – I could imagine how she lit him up from the inside, and if she was anything like the women he’d described she’d be a fearsome thing to behold.

  ‘In any case, I was a soldier,’ he continued, walking forward again, ‘although I was a fisherman once upon a time. I didn’t really think I could be anything else. In my village you fish, or you leave. And I didn’t want to leave, so …’

  ‘You fished.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What made you want to fight, in the end?’

  ‘Ava. She was studying at the towers, and it was either move there to be with her or go mad with longing. So I followed her and I became a soldier too, and along the way I discovered it was a cause I actually believed in – which is why I was attacking your queen in the first place.’

  ‘You got pretty close, if I remember correctly. It had taken Ma a long time to recover from that knife to her guts.’

  ‘Not close enough.’

  ‘You don’t feel any remorse, do you? Not even now.’

  ‘I only feel remorse for not being strong enough to get the job done.’

  Was he trying to offend me? I didn’t blabber on about killing the people from his country! ‘You’re really annoying sometimes, Ave.’

  ‘Only sometimes?’

  I considered. ‘Most of the time.’

  He looked into my eyes, and I thought I saw something there, something strange and unexpected.

  ‘So you lived for fighting,’ I said. ‘You loved being a soldier. Tell me then, how does that make you different from any man in Pirenti?’

  ‘I didn’t enjoy hurting people,’ he snapped.

  It seemed quite clear to me what he wasn’t saying. ‘And now?’

  Avery blinked, his purple eyes shifting to a light shade of yellow that glowed in the dull grey light. It was spectacular, to see a pair of eyes change colour – and quite incomprehensible. He answered me. ‘Now I do.’

  I shook my head. ‘At least that girl didn’t take your ability to lie when she died.’

  His head whipped around and his eyes went from yellow to scarlet.

  That was when I heard it – a very soft whisper of sound drifting through the mist. It was a low, deadly growl. I froze, pulling Avery to a jerking halt. He looked at me questioningly but I held a hand up for him to be silent. I drew my sword as quietly as I could, and peered around but I may as well have been blind, for all I could make out in the mist.

  A soft sound came from behind, and then they attacked. My first glimpse of our enemy was as a creature leapt at me, a loud snarl erupting from its mouth. It was a wildcat, and there was more than one. The first mighty cat slammed into me, knocking me to the ground, where it instantly began tearing at my arm. I grunted and struggled with its heavy weight before managing to roll it off me. My sword was lightning fast, because in the back of my mind, every second, was the knowledge that Avery had no weapon with which to defend himself. I stabbed the savage cat between its ribs and left it to die. Turning quickly, I saw that three other animals surrounded Avery.

  Sensing my approach, two of them turned towards me, leaving the third with Avery. The cats circled around to either side of me, starved and desperate for meat. Not waiting for them to attack, I feinted forward and sliced through the neck of the wildcat to my right. In the same moment the cat on my left jumped onto my back and raked its claws through my skin. The pain was sharp and immediate, but I ignored it and used the beast’s own momentum to fling it forward over my head. I jabbed with my sword again and cut open its chest as it fell, killing it instantly.

  Avery was trapped in the stare of the last cat. It was the biggest, the leader of the pack. Neither was moving. I watched, transfixed, unsure what was happening, and as I stared at them, I saw Avery move towards the animal.

  ‘Don’t—’ I started to warn, but he hissed at me to be quiet, never taking his eyes from the yellow gaze of his opponent. He moved right up to it, heedless of the danger, and after what seemed an age, frozen in silent communication, Avery reached out with his palm and forced the cat onto its back. It gave a high, keening snarl that echoed off the rocks around us. Avery hissed at it, a feral, animal sound that stunned me and frightened the cat – it was gone in an instant, sprinting away without a backward glance.

  I stared at Avery, who turned and fixed his purple eyes on the mess around me. ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘You didn’t have to kill them,’ he said softly, sea-green eyes darting frantically to the dead bodies. At that moment he seemed more broken than ever. I didn’t know what to say. I looked down at the three dead animals and felt a wave of regret. Just as after I’d seen the white stag killed, I felt brutal and hateful for having taken more life.

  ‘They attacked us,’ I said, forcing the regret out of my tone. Where had my hardness gone? I’d been one of the toughest, cruellest men of Pirenti, and now here I stood ready to cry like a baby over a couple of dead cats. ‘Let’s go,’ I snapped, striding forward angrily.

  We didn’t say anything more until nightfall.

  ‘We should make camp,’ he told me.

  ‘We’ll make camp when I say so!’ I spat. The two of us trudged along the rocks, barely able to see our way in the darkness. I knew I was being stupid and stubborn, but it seemed that if I stopped moving, even for a moment, everything I was blocking out would catch up to me.

  ‘Stop!’ he ordered about an hour later. I swung around, ready to hit him for disobeying me, but the anger died as soon as I saw the expression in his eyes. ‘You’re bleeding, Ambrose.’

  I glanced down but didn’t see any blood. Then it hit me at once – the pain I’d been so careful to ignore – my back. I instantly felt dizzy, and I sank to the ground. Avery moved around behind me to lift my shirt over my head. He took the canteen of water and began to wash the blood from my wounds. I was faintly surprised at how gentle and slender his fingers were against my ski
n, but I still groaned in pain as he pulled the bits of my shirt from the wounds.

  ‘You don’t have to pretend you liked what happened before,’ he said softly.

  ‘Liked what?’

  ‘Killing the animals. It doesn’t make you weak to value life.’

  ‘I value my own life,’ I spoke, as I’d been taught.

  ‘Is there a life you would give your own for?’ he asked me. ‘Any life?’

  I closed my eyes. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘My brother. His wife.’

  ‘That’s two. I think that might be more than most people would. You believe a harsher truth about yourself than you should, Ambrose.’

  ‘You’re a child,’ I murmured. ‘A Kayan child. You don’t know anything about my truths.’

  ‘Then tell me. What do you wish for?’

  I wasn’t sure if he was simply trying to keep me distracted from the pain, or if he really wanted to know. There was something gentler about him tonight – something I hadn’t seen in him before now.

  ‘I wish for an answer,’ I said softly. I wished for a why. I wanted to know the truth to the question that plagued every moment of my waking life – an answer to why my father was in the crypt.

  ‘To what?’ he asked.

  I swallowed, shaking my head. ‘Forget that.’

  ‘Why—’

  ‘I wish to escape my family,’ I admitted out loud, for the first time in my life. But it was more complicated than that – nothing was as simple as those words. Pain sheathed itself in my chest – longing for my brother, heartbreak at what had happened to us, at how we had been divided. I didn’t want to leave Thorne, but I also didn’t want ceaseless slaughter in my life.

  ‘Is there a way to do that?’ Avery asked.

  ‘Of course not. I’m a man of Pirenti – I love my country, and even if I did not, there is nowhere else in this world for me.’ A sneer curled my lip. ‘You think I could go south to Kaya, to where the men are soft like women and they spend their time singing of love?’ I shook my head. ‘I’ve played nice, Ave, but I’m not that nice. There are more important things in life.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like surviving. Like providing for your children. Like making sure your family is safe.’

  Avery didn’t speak for a moment. ‘Children and family – what are they, but not beloved?’

  I clenched my jaw. ‘Stop it. You enjoy twisting my words, but I’m too tired.’

  ‘Have you ever been in love, Ambrose?’ he asked me.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’

  ‘Answer me, or I’ll jab my fingers into these wounds.’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ I told him through gritted teeth. ‘Love is rare in Pirenti – or at least your idea of what love is. It’s not necessary.’

  ‘Have you shared intimacy with a woman?’

  ‘Do you mean sex?’

  ‘No, I mean intimacy.’

  I stilled, my muscles relaxing. ‘I’ve never had time for it. I’ve never … wanted it.’ Honestly – I wasn’t even sure what it was. ‘Why would I need it?’

  His fingers stopped against my back, and I could make out each of the ten points where the tips touched my skin. I could feel the heat coming off them, soaking into me, and it made my heart beat a little faster.

  ‘Because without it life is lonely,’ he said simply.

  I swallowed. It had never occurred to me that loneliness was an affliction – at least, not one worth concerning myself about. ‘Life is lonely anyway.’

  ‘It’s a shame, Ambrose,’ he murmured. ‘A man like you could offer a woman something important, if you could see her for what she really is.’

  ‘And what is a woman, really? What am I so blind to?’

  He was still touching my back as he answered me, his face close to my shoulder. I could feel his breath against the back of my neck. ‘A woman’s beauty is in her strength and her passion. Think of her form, the sensuality of a woman’s body – it’s not a vessel for you to steal your own pleasure from – it’s capable of awakening passion for the both of you. Sharing intimacy with a woman and allowing her to feel pleasure will satisfy you in a way you’ve never imagined. Trust me on that.’

  Avery then wrapped a bandage around my torso and set about lighting a fire to keep us warm, completely unaware of the riot he’d started in my heart.

  ‘You love your brother and his wife,’ he shrugged as he worked. ‘You would give your life for theirs, and yet you don’t see this as an act of love. You are one of the most romantic men I have ever met, Ambrose. You can be generous and kind, when you are not forcing yourself to be otherwise, and I think one day you will find a very passionate love, and it will make you understand the futility of denying it.’

  I stared at him, and even though his words were stupid and sickening, a distant, treacherous part of me thought they contained the best news anyone had ever imparted to me.

  Ava

  As I lay ready to sleep, I thought of Avery and the way he’d taught me everything I’d just explained to Ambrose. I remembered the way he used to touch me, the way he’d treated me like a rare gem, a treasure that only he could unlock, a gift, the perfect gift. I thought of the way we’d shared everything; I imagined him above me, whispering things in my ear, moving his hands over my body.

  And then, for the first time in my life, a strange, terrifying, horrible thing happened. The man atop me slowly transformed, without me realising it at first, from the small, lithe, gentle man I’d known most of my life, into the dark stranger who lay next to me. Instead of the slender hands I knew so well, I started to imagine big, callused hands moving over my skin, touching me in places they shouldn’t, in ways I’d never been touched, not even by Avery. The strength and physicality of him called to my blood, stirring thoughts that should never have been possible. The strength and size of his hands moved between my legs and I had to clamp my mouth shut to stop myself from making any noise. The sound of his breathing seemed to suddenly come from some place over my body, against my body, the feel of his muscles setting my own to riot. My breathing quickened, and I couldn’t rid him from my mind, from my body – I even felt like I could taste the saltiness of his skin against my tongue, felt like I could feel his heartbeat pressed against the skin of my chest. Clenching my teeth, I tried to rid him from me, but couldn’t.

  And so, for the first time since my mate had been murdered, I began, very softly, to weep. I knew my eyes had turned to black – I felt them. It was the colour of deepest betrayal, of shame, of agony and desire.

  Through the darkness my soft weeping reached his ears, and then Ambrose reached for my hand, holding it gently in the night, and the feel of it hurt in a way I couldn’t bear and also couldn’t bear to let go of.

  Chapter 7

  Roselyn

  Silk under fingertips was one of my favourite sensations.

  ‘Back again, Lady Roselyn?’ the shopkeeper sighed, rolling his eyes as I entered the shop. As soon as he saw who was behind me, however, his shoulders straightened and the expression of distaste on his face vanished. ‘Your Majesty,’ he bowed low.

  Thorne didn’t even look at him. ‘Get her what she wants,’ he muttered, turning to peer out the front window into the cobbled street. From the way he was staring you’d think he was on the lookout for an enemy attack on the material shop.

  ‘Of course, Your Majesty, whatever you wish is yours.’

  ‘I’ve got no wish for this rubbish,’ he snapped. ‘I told you – see to my wife.’

  I gravitated towards the swathes of cloth, letting the shopkeeper’s prattle fade from my mind. He was rude to me when I came alone, but that was all right – everyone was. In front of Thorne he was positively obsessive.

  Vermillion slid beneath my hands, then azure, peach and mint. I touched crimson, coral and ivory, found lace in every shade of cream, and ribbons embroidered with the finest detail. A beautiful deep purple caught my gaze and it r
eminded me, obscurely, of the Kayan boy’s eyes.

  I glanced at my husband and saw him inspecting the hilt of his axe with focused concentration. I couldn’t for one second imagine what was going on in his mind.

  He glanced up and caught my eyes. ‘Are you shopping or staring at me?’

  I quickly went back to the silks and chose a few for my sewing, including a blue that would make a lovely tunic for Thorne and match his eyes. He’d probably never wear it, since he only ever wore functional clothing, but I would make it for him anyhow.

  ‘This,’ he grunted and I realised he’d moved to my side. He was pointing at a brilliant green material, trimmed with gold thread. ‘This would be good on you.’ And then he swept out into the sunshine.

  I told the mean man to wrap my choices and deliver them to our rooms, then followed Thorne outside. He led the way along the street, past the staring eyes – no matter where he went, he was always the focus of people’s fascination. Aside from being one of the biggest men in the world, there was something very beautiful about the elder prince. Unlike his younger brother, who was handsome and charismatic, Thorne had a kind of … difficulty to his presence. It made it very hard to look away from him. It was as though death and fury and ice walked each step with him. The folk who lived in the fortress were alternately terrified and awed by him – if he caught them staring there was no telling what he’d do.

  A soldier crossed the street to our side and Thorne glanced at him. ‘Garth. South patrols?’

  ‘Nothing to report, Your Majesty – the forest is clear.’

  Thorne nodded once. ‘Be gone, then. I’m with my wife.’

  Garth observed me coldly, his lip curling slightly before he strode off. Thorne led me to a small shop and opened the door for me, causing the bell to jingle softly. I looked at him, surprised.

  ‘You need more, don’t you?’ he asked.