The Fall Of Snow: Guard Your Heart

24. Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

Ryder

I nearly roll my eyes at the implication. He thinks I can't handle myself in the woods alone at night. Does he not know what I've been doing for the last how many months? I am more than capable of handling myself. I've made it this far.

His words might insult me, but the soft caress of his fingers on my arm dull the rage, the natural inferno of his body seeping into me, warming my insides. They bring me right back to the way he touched me in the darkness, his intoxicating scent surrounding me, bewitching me to lose all thoughts, until I can only think of one thing. The way his lips grazed mine, hot and soft. My body and my mind are at war with one another as to how to react to him .

"I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own." I stick out my chin, refusing to back down—refusing to let my emotions control me.

"But we both know who's going to win this battle. Let's just jump to the part where I get my bow and we leave." He smiles that knowing smile, showing off his uniform teeth.

Infuriating, arrogant bastard. How does he always manage to do this? Anyone who has met me knows I am not one to be submissive, especially when it comes to men. If anything, it makes me want to defy them more. But I know he's right. He will simply follow me into the woods without my consent, and the others will only back him up.

My shoulders sag an inch, "Let's go." My words come out in a sigh as I wait for him to grab his bow. Coy gives me a look of amusement, and I wonder if he can see whatever it is between Huck and me. I wonder if they all can. The thought makes me want to shield myself from view as if I could cover up our connection. I am slightly mortified at the thought of the others knowing about our night by the bonfire…or the forest.

Huck opens the door for me with a broad hand pushing it open, "Lead the way."

As I pass him, my eyes turn to slits watching him as I go.

The night sky is a painting of violet, sapphire, and steel all blending together like watercolors. Every so often a star shines bright enough to bleed through the clouds or peek through a clear opening. Part of the moon is shrouded by a puffed cloud, but the other part is beaming in all its proud glory. The air is cold enough to fog our breaths, one of the coldest nights yet.

We walk in silence for a bit, our steps in tandem, when I hear an owl somewhere in the distance. Despite the cold, the night sprites glow throughout the forest, causing it to look more inviting than it really is. They mask the dangers of the winter forest with their tiny yellow lights bobbing throughout the woods.

My cheeks are numb from the brisk air and I tuck my hands further into my cloak, while Huck walks along beside me, relaxed and warm, heat radiating off his skin like a warm pond on a brisk summer night. Tendrils of steam rise from him like spirits in the night.

Pain lances up my leg as I step on a raised root masked beneath the hardened snow, rolling my weakened ankle that I sprained months ago. I feel my weight shift out of balance as I descend towards the frozen ground. Huck's warm fingers curl around my waist, pulling me toward him before I hit the snow, my body swaying with the motion. I turn and come face to face with Huck as he rights my position, and my breath catches in my throat as I feel momentarily frozen in time and space, as our breath mingles in the small space between our lips. My heart thunders and I can barely feel the dull ache of my rolled ankle .

Too soon he releases me, leaving an emptiness at my waist where his hand had been, cold and longing.

"Thanks." I hobble, trying not to show my pain with each small step.

“Anytime, Snowflake.” Huck winks at me, causing my stomach to flip before walking ahead and I curse myself for allowing him to have such an effect on me.

Just as I'm about to speak up and break the silence, Huck's arm shoots out in front of me, curling me behind his back. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in fear as I sense Huck's apprehension. Alarm shows in the tick of his jaw, and I strain to sense what he does. Hear what he hears. My magic awakens under my skin, rising to my fingertips on instinct.

It doesn't take me long. In the shadows of the night, a huntsman stands between the trees, bow drawn. Arrow pointing right at us. Suddenly, we are in a standoff and my legs turn to liquid. I've never been this caught off guard from an attack before until recently, and if it weren't for Huck, I'd probably already be dead. On the flip side, if it weren't for Huck, I probably wouldn't have been so distracted and relaxed walking through the woods at night either.

"Step aside. I'm only after the girl." The voice of the huntsman has a lilt that marks him as a northerner. He's come from afar, which means my mother must have promised him something invaluable. It also means that this man is determined beyond logic, beyond reason. He will not back down, even to an Arion Warrior.

"You cannot have her," Huck growls and I can feel the heat seep through my thick cloak. “You harm her, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

"So we're doing this the hard way, then." The huntsman pulls his bow taut, tightening his stance in challenge.

"I guess we are." In a blur of movement, Huck lights his spark striker in a heartbeat and launches the flame at the huntsman, not wanting to drag this out any longer. He dodges the flame, but not before he releases his arrow. I hear it leave the bow before I see it, but Huck knocks me out of the way, and I back into a tree as he stalks towards the huntsman pulling another arrow from his quiver. I crouch, pulling my dagger from its sheath, and follow in Huck's wake.

With each stride, Huck shows no fear as he walks towards the man nocking his arrow, his fingers now trembling on the bow. Huck pulls his sword from its sheath and slices the man’s neck in one swift arc of his blade before the huntsman can release another arrow. He drops to his knees, before falling to the ground. I stand next to Huck, watching the crimson seep into the snow, its edges creeping further out as if trying to reach our feet.

A shudder escapes my lips as my body processes that the threat is gone. My magic yearns to release and suddenly I can't get to the apple tree soon enough. Huck turns to me, chin grazing his shoulder. "You alright, Snowflake?"

I already know my eyes have shifted, marking the glowing peripherals surrounding his features, "Yeah. I'm okay. You?"

He smirks at me, giving me a quick wink. "Never better." He sheaths his sword after slicing it through the snow and then drops down to a knee in front of me.

"What are you—" The sound of tearing fabric drowns out my words as Huck tears a clean strip from the huntsman's tunic and begins removing my boot. When he lifts my leg I lean forward to grab onto his shoulder as he places my foot on his knee. Heat pools in my belly as he slides his fingers up my breeches, exposing my bare leg to the elements. His touch is feather light as he wraps the fabric around my ankle, securing it and tying it off before lowering my pant leg and putting my boot back on, gently sliding it over my heel. My cheeks are hot, and my body longs to be pressed against his—to feel his heat permeate through my skin again. My breaths have become shallow, but I steady enough to say "thank you" once more.

"Can't have you slowing us down, now can we?" Huck's brow quirks up along with the corner of his lip and I nearly combust. My reactions to this man are appalling. Mother above, help me.

Huck burns the body with a flick of his spark striker until there’s nothing but charred dust. With my ankle wrapped, we continue on our journey as I try to calm my nerves and we leave the burned evidence behind us. The silence of the night has become palpable with all of my thoughts swirling around my head. The fact that I was again almost killed is second in importance to Huck's hands on my leg, and I wonder who will be the one to break the silence first.

There is so much about this man that I know from living with him for the last few months. Intimate things about a person you would only learn from sharing space with them. But there are other things, things that alter the course of your life, things that shape who you are, that I know nothing about. And for some reason . . . that bothers me.

There is a pull towards Huck that I wish didn't exist. It would make my life so much easier if it didn't exist, but it does, and denying it won't help any. From the moment I saw him, something sparked inside of me. I thought it was hatred, but maybe it was something else entirely. This man is the definition of tough love. He acts all hard and brooding around his warriors but everything he does is for their protection. At his core, Huck is brave and loyal. Once he's in, he’s all in. He will do anything for his people. I may not have seen it or understood it then, but I see it now. Looking back, every action he took was for the benefit of his unit. Even making a deal with me.

I want to know about his childhood, and how he felt training to become a warrior. I want to know about his family and his childhood home. I want to know if he's ever known love or how he dealt with the loss of his brother. I want to know him.

“Tell me about your brother.” My words sound too loud even though I ask gently. Huck’s jaw clenches, the muscles contracting, before he looks at me. His stare is so intense I fight not to look away. I can see him contemplating.

"You insisted on coming along with me. Might as well make it interesting. "

"Oh, I can make it plenty interesting for you, if you'd like." His voice grows thick with desire and my chest heats. No! I will not be lured. This is ridiculous.

“Deflecting.” I try my damnedest to hide my smirk. But when his shoulders drop a bit, I know he decided to leave the jokes and give me a part of him.

"Ryder and I were inseparable, from the moment we were born. We did everything together. Catching frogs near the pond, telling stories when we should have been sleeping. Even finishing each other's thoughts. When we were seven, Ryder drowned in the pond near our house. We were playing pirates, using our mother's jewelry as treasure, when her gold chain necklace fell into the water. It spiraled down into the depths and Ryder went in after it." We're nearly at the apple tree now, a tall dark silhouette in the night. The frost tree stands out in the forest with its dark red fruits hanging like ornaments—the deep color standing out amongst the muted winter. Huck continues his memory.

"I waited for him to surface, but when fear started tugging at my insides, I dove in to get him. We weren't the best swimmers, but we grew up near that pond and we knew enough. I found him caught on fallen driftwood near the bottom, thrashing against the pull. I tried to untangle him—to pull him up, but it was hopeless. I wasn't strong enough."

When we approach the tree, Huck begins to pick a few apples, chucking them into the bag I brought as if the story hasn't affected him at all. But I see the slight tremor in his hands. I see the tiny shake in the darkness, and it's not from the cold.

"My mother was never the same after we lost Ryder. None of us were. My father became cold and callous. My mother lost herself entirely. Not eating or sleeping. She could barely function. And I . . . I was lost without my brother. Lost without a mother to guide me through the grief. That's when my father decided to send me to the barracks to train. Said it was the best thing for me."

I try to imagine what it must be like to lose a twin but I come up short. No amount of imagining could encapsulate such a connection, such an understanding between two people. Such a loss. Huck didn't just lose his twin brother that day. He lost his entire family, shattered apart by a moment.

My mind snags on a memory of the picture.

"And here I am." He says the words like he's wrapping it all up nice and neat. Like he's putting a lid on the mess inside.

"And here you are." They're the only words I can think to say. We finish our picking and he grabs the bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

"It was a long, long time ago." He means it to be a comfort to me, to remind me it has been years since the pain. But I know better than that. I know it never really leaves you. My father could be gone for a century and still, the thought of him will ache in my chest. Guilt weighs me down thinking that I dredged this story up for him— made him say the words aloud.

“But now I have my unit to worry about. I made a promise to myself that I would honor them and protect them at all costs. I will not fail them like I did my brother. ”

“Huck…” My hand twitches with the urge to reach out to him, to tell him he isn’t at fault. This man holds the lives of so many on his shoulders, and the truth is no one can defeat death. We can only hold it at bay because eventually, death comes for us all.

“Don’t,” he puts his hand up as if to stop my words. “I know what you’re going to say. I’ve made peace with what happened to Ryder, but I’ll be damned if I fail my family again.” I know he doesn’t mean his blood family, but his warriors. They are as much his family as anyone. I see it every day. I see it in the way he hides his care in shouted orders, in the way he is always the last to fall asleep, just to be sure everyone is safe. I see it in almost everything he does around the camp. Even his reason for both wanting me gone and having me stay were both connected to the wellbeing of his unit.

"Thank you for sharing this piece of yourself with me." We walk in tandem again back to the cabin. The bellow of an owl fills the air.

"You asked." His words aren't condescending, but honest. Simple.

"I did. But we both know no amount of asking could get you to do anything you didn't want to." If I've learned anything about Huck these past few months, it's that he doesn't do anything unless he wants to.

"I guess..." He growls in anger. "How do you get me to talk like this? I don't talk like this with anyone. Not even Coy."

"Go on," I urge.

"I guess I just want you to know me." His voice turns soft, curling at the edges as we come up to the back door of the cabin. " If I tell you about Ryder, then his memory lives on through you too." He stops and turns to me, the hanging lantern behind him glowing around his frame. The wind picks up, sending a breeze scented with pine and leather my way. The scent I've come to know as purely Huck. His eyes bore into me with a fever that makes me weak.

When he reaches his arm out to me, I hold my breath. His fingers graze my cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. One that blew across my face from the wind. His touch sends shivers down my neck, the back of my arms, my spine. Everywhere. Suddenly I can feel him everywhere. His presence is overwhelming.

I watch as his face struggles with something, as his fingers linger on my neck, just below my ear. Hesitation fills the air with tension—longing. His amber eyes squint at the edges, his once parted lips now in a thin hard line.

There it is again, that hesitation. His jaw working over something I can’t see. Part of me wonders what he's struggling with, part of me is afraid to know. Is his attraction towards me only physical? Does he believe me to be a lost cause? Does he think of me as a mistake bound to be repeated?

I don't have time to find the answer because he suddenly drops his hand and turns away to open the back door, entering the cabin without another word.