The Fall Of Snow: Guard Your Heart

18. Eighteen

Eighteen

Crisp Pine and Leather

T he fire heats my face as I watch the orange flames lick the night sky. Embers from the burning wood float up with the smoke disappearing into the sea of stars above. Coy sits to my left on the fat log we share near the bonfire, and I wonder if he can feel the grooves of the bark digging into his sit bones as much as I can. The warriors and I surround the flaming pit like a corona, all perched on tree stumps or logs. The fire pit glows within the mismatched rocks containing the burning wood. All various shapes, sizes, and colors. Bear passes around a bottle of rum as we listen to the tune of Coy's harmonica.

Once my hysteria wore off after my tangle with death and the cliff, I was able to present Aspen with a freshly fuzed apple, dulling his pain instantly. He was all too grateful to me for the minimum presentation of my end of the deal. With a promise to keep working on my magic to find a permanent cure, Huck agreed to forgo the time restraint due to the results of my delivery.

Now Aspen sits with us around the fire, enjoying the night with his friends pain-free, and each time I fuze, it becomes easier and easier to push through and let my magic flow. I haven’t yet figured out how to cure his symptoms, but I’m not giving up yet.

I feel lighter—freer now that these restraints have been lifted from me. The imaginary manacles that have weighed me down for years are gone, and I’ve only scratched the surface. I’ve seen what my mother can do and I know my potential. There is more to discover. I just need to find it.

Now, as our faces heat from the fire, the group discusses ranking throughout the camp and how the new outpost is coming along on the northern border. I mostly listen and enjoy the night, but my mind keeps going back to the night of the blood moon. To Coy's curse and the look on Huck's face.

There is so much I still don't know about these people, yet I feel like I've known them my whole life. I know how they take their coffee, who's an early riser, and who's a night owl. I know who's the most outspoken and who's more reserved, and I know their thoughts on the king's command when the Arion Warriors get word from the kingdom.

And yet . . . I don't know where they came from. I don't know how they found themselves here near the western border. Sure, I've picked up a few pieces here and there, but for all my observations, I didn 't know about the biggest issue in Coy's life. I didn't know that Huck would crumble his walls for his friend. And I can't seem to stop my mind from wondering what else I don't know.

I never thought I’d be here long enough to get to know these warriors. The last thing I wanted to do was make a genuine connection just to tear it apart when I leave.

But still, I never feel safe. I have been trained to always guard my heart—to always expect the worst. Making friends was never on my agenda.

Any one of these warriors could be plotting their move to end me and bring my mother my heart in a sack, eager to collect their reward. Things aren't always what they seem, and Coy reminded me of that. Sometimes an apple tart isn't just a sweet treat your mother baked for you. Sometimes it is a means to an end. Sometimes you realize that you know nothing at all.

"Do you really think he'll move us all out to the northern border if Roselaria pushes their army through Deadman's Valley?" Whip takes a swig from the half-empty bottle before handing it off to Archer. Her eyes are red-rimmed from rubbing them all night. Apparently, her allergies flare up from the heat of the fire, but I honestly cannot tell a difference from any other time. She seems to always be battling her body's rejection to . . . well . . . everything.

"What I know is that the Supreme Commander will not question the king for our sake." Archer passes the bottle as he stomps out a burning ember that landed near his boot from the pop and crackle of the wood.

"I don't care what the king says, I ain't goin anywhere." Bear returns from relieving himself at the forest line. "This is the best place I've been stationed since I made my oath to the legion."

"And we've been lucky to have been here this long," Aspen comments as he slinks down to the ground, resting his head back onto the fallen log.

"How long have you all been here?" I haven't spoken in so long, my voice sounds strange amongst the group of deep voices.

"How long has it been now?" Bear asks the group.

"We've been here for about three years now?" Terran looks around the glowing faces of the group for confirmation.

"Yeah, I'd say about three years with all of us together," Coy confirms. "Some of us were assigned here later than others. Some of us moved cabins to accommodate new recruits. But I believe the first of us to arrive here was Huck. He had a hand in structuring the camp before it was functioning." Naturally, my eyes veer to Huck over the flames, the sharp angles of his face are made more severe with fire flickering over his features, creating shadows in the hollow spaces. Those golden eyes are set aflame.

"That's right." His eyes meet mine over the flames, boring a hole into my soul. Of course he gives up nothing else, leaving me to wonder how he found himself training to become an Arion Warrior on the western border.

I know that most of the Arion Warriors have a calling around their maturation years, feeling a pull to serve, like an internal compass guiding them to the training camps. Some say the calling only comes to the strongest of people, ensuring a powerful army. Others claim that the Mother weaves certain fates for certain reasons. But the truth is, no one really knows what pulls them to Arion.

Never experiencing it myself, I do think something deep within these soldiers guides them to become an Arion Warrior. Otherwise, I can't imagine who would willingly volunteer to live this life, being pulled away from their friends and family for years on end and enduring the grueling training each member goes through to become a part of the army. Not to mention the prospect of battle and active war, the possibility of losing your life in a gruesome battle. There must be something that guides them to it.

"But he sent a request for me to join shortly after the camp was set up." Coy breaks my thoughts apart. "And one by one, our cabin was filled with this lot." He nods his head towards his comrades and I can see the endearment in his crooked smirk.

"Did most of you meet here in the camp then?" My curiosity tumbles out now that the subject has been broached.

"Most of us, yeah. A few crossed paths during training and whatnot," Archer chimes in. "But Terran and I met in combat during the Battle of Gibellina." My eyes widen at this. Everybody knows of the infamous battle, not only because it was recent but for its quick and bloody brutality. The northern borders were breached in the night and the enemy unleashed their mountain beasts upon the legion. Crimson blood splattered the snow like paint. It's a wonder both Terran and Archer survived to tell the tale. Not many made it out of that battle, and most who did, don't talk about it much.

"If it weren't for this fella right here, I wouldn't be sitting here with you tonight." Archer claps Terran on the back and I can instantly see the history that threads their connection to each other. Over the weeks spent with the group, Archer and Terran have always been close, gravitating towards one another despite their age gap. Always looking out for one another in a silent understanding. Similar to Huck and Coy. I try not to let the envy simmer too deep within me, having never had a connection like that. Violetta was the closest thing I had to a friend.

I met plenty of children my age during court functions or on the orchard during picking season, but people talk and everyone knew of my mother's malice. People were smart enough to keep their children at a safe distance from me to avoid a dangerous situation with my mother. As a young girl, it hurt to see how others would distance themselves from me, but now I see more clearly, and I can't blame them for it. Hell, I wish I had the option to save myself from her wrath as a child.

After a few more stories of the group's first meetings, Coy plays one last song on his harmonica, light and nostalgic. It fills the night with a wistful romance and I close my eyes, savoring the sound.

Slowly, one by one, the warriors head to bed, but I decide to stay out a little longer admiring the thousands of stars that paint the sky. The fire slowly dies down to glowing embers and before I know it, only Huck and I remain. The orange glow ignites his features from below, brightening his amber eyes to an ethereal radiance. He looks like a god and my finger twitches when a lock of his hair falls over one eye. I can't stop my eyes from trailing the scar down his brow and to the side of his face. I follow it down to the corded muscle in his neck, just below his ear. My head is light with drink, obliterating my self-preservation as I mercilessly stare.

"What’s the story behind the scar?" I ask over the dying fire.

"Which one?" He jokes, brow raised. Of course, I could only mean the one visible to most people, though I'm sure he has plenty more. I raise a brow back at him in challenge. Really?

"It's actually one of my less interesting stories. When I was young, I was practicing archery in the barracks when the bow string snapped. Sliced my face open before I knew what happened." Oh, Mother, that must have hurt. The sting of pain sends a jolt of sensation down my spine.

"It just snapped?" Bowstrings aren't weak and if he were training in the barracks, there's no way it was set up incorrectly.

"Not exactly." My intrigue is peaked. "There was another warrior in training that had a vendetta against me when I finished first in hand-to-hand. He tampered with my bow in response." A wild sort of fury blooms within my chest. What kind of sorry coward could ever become an Arion Warrior?

"How did you know?"

"I didn't need proof to know it was him, but I got it anyway when a captain came forward after spotting him during his morning rounds. He was dismissed immediately."

"As he should have been." Young or not, warriors are trained to never turn their backs on each other. What chance would they ever have at winning a battle if you can't trust one another?

“So why didn’t you kick me out after the two-week mark of our deal?” As soon as the words leave my chest, a sense of relief washes over me. Something that’s been eating at me since the day I made the damn deal finally coming out in the open. For some reason, after these past few months, I feel like Huck won’t kick me out now. It’s not as if he forgot about the timeline he gave me.

Huck sucks in a breath, looking over at the dim-lit cabin before speaking.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.”

“And?” Please don’t kick me out now. Not now that my magic has begun improving. Not in the middle of winter.

“Let’s just say I had a change of heart.” Shock ripples through me at his words. This is the last thing I thought he would say.

“I wasn’t aware you even had one of those.” Huck huffs a laugh as he casts his eyes to the fire and a smirk settles on my lips.

We're silent after that for a while, letting the sounds of the night fill the air. A wolf howls in the distance. Huck's eyes rise slowly to mine and my throat constricts.

"You know, I usually wait until the fire dies down before heading in for the night." Huck's arms cross over his chest like he's physically creating a wall against the world. But his eyes are glossy and his lids are heavy and I think he might be a little drunk.

"Is that your subtle way of telling me to leave?" I take another swig of the nearly empty bottle, feeling the warmth it brings to me. My head is a bit fuzzy and my muscles are like butter. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit drunk too.

"Actually, the company is nice." He rests his elbows on his knees staring deep into the fire. "Usually I stay out here to get a moment's peace. A minute to myself. Our lives are so intertwined here at the camp that none of us ever get time to just be alone." I'm feeling more and more compelled to leave when suddenly his eyes shoot to mine, the glowing amber peeking through his dark lashes. "But tonight . . . tonight this particular company is a welcome change."

His words are so unexpectedly kind that I'm momentarily stunned. A giggle rises within my chest. The look on his face almost seems . . . suggestive. But that could be the rum. He smirks then, one side of his mouth tugging up, revealing his perfect teeth. Is he flirting with me?

"Is it the rum talking, or did you just say something nice to me?" I cross my arms in question, which gets a laugh out of him. A genuine laugh. And it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

"I can be nice when I want to be."

"Huck, the grumpy Arion Warrior captain is capable of being nice?" I feign surprise.

"Oh, I can be very nice when the mood suits me." His words suddenly turn thick and heavy with something I'm afraid to name. He saunters over to me and my heart jumps in my chest. What is he doing?

"Since when?" My voice barely sounds like my own, like I'm trying to balance on a tight wire.

When he gets close enough, he bends down so his lips graze my ear, the heat like a brand, and his scent intoxicates me. Crisp pine and leather. The scent that lulls me to sleep every night from the bottom bunk. The heat that rolls off of him envelops me and it makes me want to undress.

"Want me to show you how nice I can be?" His whisper sends chills down my spine that nearly turn me to mush. His hand grazes mine before he grabs the bottle and finishes it off. The bottle drops to the ground in a hollow thud, and I realize he's waiting for an answer. My senses have become hazy and I'm pretty sure it's not just from the rum. Heat begins to burn low in my belly like the glowing embers of the dying fire. Damn it, I want him despite all logic. I want him despite his arrogance. Despite common sense.

The tension in the air is thick as we stare at one another in a contest to see who breaks first. I watch as his eyes roam over my body with hooded lids, and I bite my lip in anticipation. Am I really going to go there?

I shudder a breath as I think of his strong hands on my body, caressing me like a man should. He looks like the type of man who knows how to work a woman. My body is radiating with lust, and I can barely take it anymore.

Before I know what I'm doing, I break first, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to me. He instantly drops to his knees before me with my legs on either side of him and I crush my mouth to his, hot as a burn.

As soon as our lips touch, it's a frenzy of movements. His arms trail up my back and find their way into my hair as his lips part further. His tongue touches mine, wet and hot as he explores me. I meet him move for move as my hands grab the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. His muscles contract under my touch as he dives deeper into the kiss. The broad planes of his chest push against mine, and my breasts tighten at the pressured contact. My fingers rake down the coarse hair of his chest. I want more. We may very well go up in flames.

As if he can sense it, Huck grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs, exposing my neck to him. His soft lips travel down to my throat and he claims me, kissing, sucking, biting. A moan escapes my lips, making his hard length jerk against my low belly. I drop my head back to the stars, further exposing myself to him as I greedily pull him on top of me. We slide away from the log and onto the cold ground, his body on top of mine, each hard muscle a heated pressure against my body. The feeling is glorious, but only makes me want more. My gluttonous hands find their way under his shirt, and they roam the taut skin that stretches over his muscled frame. This man is a god, and I envy his perfection.

As his tongue trails the roof of my mouth, his hands graze up my bare stomach ever so slowly, when he finds his prize. He cups my breast with his hand and his breath shutters into my mouth, finding it peaked and swollen. I wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes his length against the softest part of me. His mouth finds my bare breast, his tongue teasing in lazy circles and I nearly come undone.

At this point, even if I wanted to stop, I couldn't. My instincts have completely taken over and all that matters is him. I am surrounded completely by all things Huck.

His hand slips down to my breeches, and I lift my hips in encouragement as he unbuttons the waistband. The need for him is palpable now and I lower my hands down past his torso, following the deep curve inside his hip when—

SIRENS.

Blaring sirens begin to ring through the camp and my heart nearly shatters in my chest. Huck pulls back from me, and I see the sheer terror in his eyes. This isn't good. As if someone has doused us with a bucket of ice water, we are on our feet panting. My eyes are wide with fear as I wait for him to explain.

"Intruders." He hisses as he searches the camp's perimeter. I look at him dumbfounded, not fully understanding what this means. Huck must see the look on my face because he grabs my hand and tugs me along.

"We're under attack."