A Chill in the Flame (Villains #1)

Twenty-eight

Twenty-eight

Ophir stepped out of the cabin and a pale, middle-aged man skidded to a halt the moment the long hair and thin frame of a fae woman populated his vision. He wouldn’t have expected anyone to be in his home, let alone a beautiful fae girl. Shock was clear on his face. One hand was filled with rabbits that had been caught and snared in the woods. The other went immediately to the hilt of his sword.

The weather was warm considering the lateness of the season, and the remaining red-brown leaves on the trees danced cheerily behind him with the gentlest of breezes. The scent of dying grass and falling leaves filtered through the air. The sun beamed down, catching in Ophir’s toffee hair to make it lighten to a vibrant shade of gold. Misdeeds should happen in the dead of night or rainy weather, not under happy sunlight. The pleasant conditions felt a tad disrespectful.

“I’m sorry!” Ophir was quick to speak. Her eyes scanned the space behind him for hunting companions amidst the trees but settled on the human. “I was on the road late last night. I only sought shelter and a place to sleep. I didn’t mean to startle you, and I apologize for using your bed. When no one was home…”

“You’re her,” the man breathed. Her face struggled against the urge to scrunch as he mumbled out two words she had not wanted to hear. Ophir could see recognition as it painted itself onto his otherwise unremarkable features. He was rather plainly dressed and looked like any hermit one might find in the country. While they’d been pillaging his kitchen for dried goods and drinks, there had been no paintings or evidence of the royal family within his simple home to suggest that he’d be familiar with the appearance of Farehold’s monarchs. Having lived for more than six decades, Ophir supposed knowledge of her description would have been around for longer than this human male had been alive.

Ophir felt the muscles in her back go rigid as she attempted to fruitlessly deflect. “I’m just a traveler…”

“No,” said the man, dropping the rabbits to the ground. He unsheathed a rusted, rather blunt sword. What he thought he’d accomplish with such a weapon, she’d never know. The blade’s only applicable use would have been sawing through the snares of his fur traps. “There’s a high reward for anyone who has information on the princess. I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

Ophir made a sad sound as she eyed the man. “You’re right. I am the princess. And do you know what I can do?” She took a step toward him.

He stumbled backward. “Don’t come any closer, Princess Ophir. I need to get you back to the castle. The whole kingdom has been looking for you—”

“I don’t have to come closer.” She lifted a hand and procured a small orb of fire. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to lower your sword. I am sorry for sleeping in your bed last night. Though, out of curiosity, how did you plan to get me back to the castle? Particularly if I can’t step any closer?”

“You’re going to have to come with me,” he said, shakily ignoring her questions. “I have to bring you back to Aubade.”

She made a long, weary exhalation as she eyed the human. “Alternatively, you can step aside, let me leave, and keep your life.”

He looked over his shoulder and began to shout names. The words were sharp, scared sounds on the man’s lip, demanding assistance. Ophir stiffened when she realized the man was not alone. His yelling continued as her eyes shot back to the trees. He was awaiting companions.

“Be quiet!” she hissed.

He shouted the names again, urging others forward. She could spot the moment the men broke from the tree line that he was the only human in the group. “Goddess dammit,” she murmured.

“It’s her!” the man yelled to the companions. “It’s Princess Ophir!”

“Shut up, you fool!” she snarled.

“Get her!” The farmer went one step too far with his command.

She felt no fear, only agitation. It was deeply annoying that such a simple man was causing troubles larger and deeper than he could possibly comprehend. She released the air from her lungs as she tried to decide how she’d deal with the nuisance.

Two men were advancing—one full-blooded fae and the other a faeling of mixed origins. They both had the telltale ears of the fair folk. She didn’t have time to find out if they could wield powers that might neutralize her. She couldn’t allow herself to be taken back to the castle, nor could word reach her parents as to her location. Her face crinkled in irritation as they ran for her.

“Stop!” she warned, raising her fireball. They slowed, but they did not come to a halt.

Over their shoulders, she saw another shape from the shadows of the forest. It was the gray, lithe shadow of an unnatural canine. It prowled like a large, agile cave cat, its many eyes blinking from the gloom between branches and trunks.

“This is your last chance,” Ophir warned, allowing the fire in her palm to grow into a menacing, orange orb.

The men did not stop.

“Sedit!” She cried for her hound. It let out a bloodcurdling howl, a sound that was too throaty for anything other than a legion of demons. Sedit’s sharp talons tore through the earth as it covered the distance between them in seconds. The vageth sprinted for the nearest man, launching itself through the air. It sank its needle-like teeth into the throat of the human’s flesh. Ophir thrust her ball of fire toward the nearest fae and watched as he screamed, his clothes catching fire as her power enveloped him. The human’s life had been forfeited the moment Sedit had ripped his jugular from where it was meant to stay. The demifae turned and began to run.

“Go!” she urged her hound, and the canine turned on sharp talons to tear after the man. The screaming of the fae on fire had ebbed as he fell to the ground. She looked over her shoulder with puckered brows, wondering why neither of her companions had come to help.

***

The moment Ophir left the door, Tyr and Dwyn locked in a quiet, angry battle.

“You’re on thin ice, witch.”

“I will kill you where you stand, dog,” Dwyn hissed.

“You can’t, and we both know it.”

He anticipated her next move. Tyr stepped into the place between things, shifting out of visible sight as she hurled water toward him. An entire pitcher overturned as she threw it toward his mouth, as if hoping to drown him on dry land. It missed its mark, soaking the wood of the floor as it splashed against nothingness.

“You think you’re clever?” Dwyn’s eyes were wild as she looked around the empty space for clues as to the man’s presence. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing with her?”

He stepped back into view, an arrogant grin curving his mouth upward and bringing his eyes to a twinkle. She’d wasted the water before she’d been able to find him. “It was your idea, wasn’t it? More than one way to possess a royal heart?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What were you doing before that, Tyr? I know you were at the party the night Caris was killed—oh yes, Firi and I have talked about it. We’ve discussed it all. I know her hopes, her fears, her crushes. I know how she tastes.” He hated the flicker of jealousy he couldn’t conceal and despised the slow, savory smile it elicited from Dwyn even more. “You didn’t know? The princess you held last night? The one you’re attempting to seduce? I’ve made her scream for the goddess. She trusts me. She’s told me everything.”

“She trusts a lie.”

“I saved her.”

“So did I,” came his bitter response.

She lowered her voice further, curling her fingers into a fist as she searched for answers. “You think I don’t know you saved her from the room where her sister died? I know you were at that party. What I don’t know is why . Why would you steal her away before you understood my game? Before you even knew I’d found Ophir?”

He managed to work through whatever jealousy had claimed him, forcing himself to relax against the wall. He wasn’t interested in satisfying the siren’s curiosity. “How deeply can she trust you if she lets me stay even though she knows how much you detest me? If she loved you like you so desperately want, she’d respect your loathing for me. Your enemies would be her enemies. It sounds to me like you don’t have the grip on her that you think you do.”

Dwyn looked as though she possessed the powers of fire rather than water as she burned from within. Her face twitched as she controlled her anger. They could hear shouts from beyond the cabin but were too locked in on their anger to adhere to Ophir now. The princess was capable of handling a simple human farmer on her own.

“You know you can’t kill me, as much as you want to. Why not hog-tie me and leave me in the forest so you and the princess can continue on your merry way?”

He made a contemplative face.

“Goddess, dog, I’m not trying to give you ideas for how to get around the conditions of the bond.”

More noises and shouts rose from beyond the cabin, snagging Tyr’s gaze once more as his eyes drifted to the window a second time. He leaned against a table and looked over his shoulder to where he could see Sedit near the tree line. “Our princess has her hound, in case you were worried.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Does she know you don’t care about her?”

“I’m not worried because I know she’s capable. I’ve trained her, Tyr. I did that.” She thrust her hand toward the window. “I’m the reason she can defend herself. I do care about her. You’re the one toying with her feelings when you hold someone else in your heart.”

He laughed, but the sound was as black as the charcoal from the dead fire. “You care about what you can get from her. You care about what you’re grooming her to be. You don’t care about her.”

“Oh, I forgot. Tyr the Red, Tyr the Altruist, Tyr the Saint is here in Farehold for noble purposes. Tyr the Noble is only with the lovely Princess Ophir because he’s a good, good man.” She laughed in a dark, cruel sound. “Only one of us will win, you know. You’re nothing more than Tyr of the Blood Pact, and all I have to do is outlast you.”

“None of it will matter if Berinth beats us to it.”

“You know he can’t. You know as well as I that he was only able to leave with Caris’s liver.”

Tyr’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “Berinth only left with Caris’s liver because I was there. I was in the room. Why don’t you thank me for keeping his hands off Caris’s heart? Why don’t you try a little gratitude that your precious princess is here at all?”

“You don’t care about her,” Dwyn bit once more.

“You know nothing of how I feel.”

The sounds of argument from outside of the cabin stopped.

“She’ll never love you—not if you do anything to get rid of me,” Dwyn said, voice singed with her anger. “That’s why you know you can’t touch me, isn’t it? You know you don’t stand a chance if you take me from her. She wouldn’t forgive you.”

Tyr looked toward the window again. “She’s coming.”

“I saved her,” Dwyn said again, voice low.

“So did I,” he repeated once more as his final words.

Ophir opened the door, flinging it on its hinges with anger. She burned hotly as she looked from one face to the other. “Thanks for the help, you two.”

Tyr conjured an easy smile. “You looked like you had it handled. Besides, I wouldn’t have left you alone if I hadn’t seen Sedit. Your monster breed is wildly effective in battle.”

“Vageth.”

He grimaced. “Are you sure that’s what you want to call them? Are you sticking with that? Vague hound? That’s…”

“It’s great,” Dwyn finished.

“Kiss ass,” he muttered.

“Dog,” she replied.