A Court of Snow and Storms

26. Yearning Desires

    His features were softened by sleep, except his nose, which was slightly wrinkled. The corners of his mouth were upturned. His chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths. Elodie squeezed his hand and his fingers curled over hers. She leaned forward, then caught herself.

    I can't. Why would I... Elodie tilted her head. Why shouldn't I? Uncle Ebner isn't here. He'll never know, and I don't think it will make Wyn uncomfortable. What happened last night didn't seem to.

    Her cheeks burned at the memory. She'd never seen an undressed male before. Not even Micah when he was a baby. And she'd certainly never let a male see as much of herself as Wynter had. She could still feel the intensity of his gaze. Smell the subtle shift in his scent. She had barely allowed herself to look at Wynter, not wanting to make him uncomfortable or embarrassed, but she'd seen enough. He was beautiful. There were no other words to describe him. Not even the wicked scars across his throat, down his back, and around his arms diminished his beauty.

    He nearly died, Elodie thought, her heart faltering at the memory. It won't hurt, just this once.

    Elodie leaned down, her breath skimming Wynter's jaw. She hesitated again, then brushed her lips across his in the faintest whisper of a kiss. She slid off the bed and ran from the room, heart pounding loud enough that she wondered if he could hear it.

❅•~❅~•❅

    Wynter lay in bed several hours after waking. Ellie had been gone when he'd opened his eyes. At first, he almost thought he'd dreamed everything, but then he saw that her side of the bed was unmade and her scent clung to the sheets. Wynter knew she'd gone home and he hoped that she didn't carry his scent. Her uncle would be sure to notice it.

    Angry instincts gripped his mind, recalling the marks on Ellie's back. The urge to go after her and remove her from Ebner's house was overwhelming, but he managed to resist it. She was right. It was too dangerous for her to stay with him now, but Wynter couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until it was too dangerous for her to leave.

    He reached for the thread, the tether, in his chest. Ellie had touched it that morning. He'd recognized the sensation. It had partially drawn him out of his dreams. What actually woke him though, was the feeling of Ellie's lips on his. She left before he had the chance to draw her back in for a real kiss, and it left Wynter starving, but not for food.

    He was starved for her. He wanted to grab Ellie and hold her, and let her hold him. He wanted to sit with her by the fire, sharing a blanket. He wanted to feel her hand in his. He wanted her back against his chest as they slept. He wanted to catch her when she slid down the banister of the stairs. He wanted to steady her as she hung flowers to dry. He wanted to feel her hands on his body again, relaxing him. Waking him. He wanted to kiss her forehead. Her cheek. Her lips.

    He wanted to care for her in every way that he knew. He wanted to take her on his bed and worship her. Learn the curves of her body. Feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to kiss the marks on her back and vow that there would never be another. He wanted to hold her close and whisper sweet adorations in her ear. He wanted to choose her. He wanted to have her. He wanted to lie with her until it was only her. Until it had only ever been her, and there was no memory of the Bloodless Witch left in his head.

    Wynter blinked, loosing a shaking breath. He rolled out of bed and remade it swiftly, before ducking into his closet. As soon as he was dressed, Wynter headed outside. He didn't bother with breakfast. He was too nervous and excited to eat.

    Sunlight glittered off the snow as Wynter cleared a path to the stables. Inside, the air was toasty and Bruma stomped a hoof, snorting with impatience. Wynter stroked his muzzle fondly. "I know, Boy. It's been far too long. You're bored."

    In his poor mental state, he'd forgotten all about the horse. It looked like someone had been taking care of Bruma though. The hay in his stall was freshly changed. His feed trough was full, and so was his water pail. Wynter retrieved Bruma's bridle and saddle. Both had been recently cleaned.

    He readied Bruma and led the stallion out of the stable before mounting. Wynter rode away, dipping his chin to the guards who were on duty. He didn't miss the relief that flashed through their eyes. Wynter rode through the streets of Nivis, keeping his focus solely on the task at hand. He ignored the bows and insults people gave him.

    At last, Wynter reached Cyrus and Colette Hawethorne's home. He dismounted and secured Bruma. Wynter cast a shield over the horse, making sure no one could steal him or cut him loose. He climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door, stomach twisting nervously.

    It was Cyrus who answered the door. Wynter swallowed, struggling to find his voice. "I owe you and Colette an apology," he began.

    "Come inside," Cyrus offered, before he could go any further. "We've been worried about you."

    "You have?" Wynter raised his eyebrows.

    Cyrus nodded. "We have a few things to explain, and we owe you an apology too. Come in, Wyn." He held the door open wider. Wynter smiled faintly and stepped inside.