To Love a Beast |GOT Ramsay Bolton

17| Run

Ramsay

The howls come next and I stop still in my tracks, turning slowly towards Ilyana.

Those are not mere dogs..

The hot air comes out in steam from her breath as her bright eyes widen, the gold glistening with fear. "Wolves." I say in a low whisper.

Perhaps the others have called off their hunt, thinking we would probably freeze to death soon enough.

Her eyes are shining bright, "Don't you see? That MUST be the Starks!"

She's about to rush outside when I grab her arm and pull her back. The weight of her gaze slams into me as I shake my head slowly, "There haven't been reports of them coming this way in months. Why do you believe they would greet you with welcome?"

I was hiding that information from her. I knew of the Starks and their whereabouts, it was my job to know such things. If anything, it could very well be Robb or the other bastard Jon.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as they flick to my eyes then to my lips until they're downcast altogether. "I only wish to get better treatment for your wound, my Lord. I worry it may cause infection."

She's lying. But why? Does she know of something that I don't?

I smirk, "Oh—No doubt about that, rather, we will return alive together by dawn, I swear to you of that, my bride."

Her cheeks turn darker pink than they already were and I came to regret my earlier command about my name. What a fool I've been with her.

I grip the hilt of my blade before unsheathing, my jaw set tight and my eyes glare out to the beyond as the sounds grow faint. The snow had begun to fall heavily, which made most sounds muffled—for mere humans.

Ilyana rushes to snag the bow and arrows, nocking one swiftly and standing by my side. I take a quick glance at her and my chest squeezes tightly. Her eyes are set and focus with a sharpness I had not witnessed before—her survival instinct had taken over from her many days hunting for meat in the woods prior.

"You are a rare beauty, to be sure." I comment mainly to myself as I turn my focus on the cave's opening.

"Wh-what?" She almost stumbles but there's a whooshing sound and her hand releases on the arrow just in time to pierce a black wolf straight through it's chest as it jumped through a mound of snow.

We both jump back as it crumbles to the ground, unmoving. Our breaths quickens as we turn our attention forward, my sword at the ready.

"Ilyana! MOVE! We cannot remain here!"

I rush out into the open, where we wouldn't be cornered like vermin. The snow drifts down on us heavily, all around us was blankets of white making it hard to see anything.

"Follow me, quickly!"

She rushes to keep up through the deep pockets of snow, our cloaks dragging, but we manage to make it only thirty feet before we are suddenly surrounded by dozens of men on horses.

"Halt!" One of them demands and points an arrow at us with more following suit.

"Identify yourselves."

And there he is—the bastard. The man was so far from the wall that I nearly stumbled, what in the gods names was he doing here? What is happening at the wall?

Jon narrows his eyes suspiciously at me and I glance down at his white dire wolf, who is simply staring at me as well. I simply smile and do my best not to wince from the sharp pain of my wound.

"The Warden of the North, Ramsay Bolton, and my bride to be—Ilyana of House Castell."

The bastard takes his eyes away from me to take in Ilyana, who is watching every sudden move with caution. He turns back to me, his jaw clenched in what seems to be anger and a mix of sympathy for her.

"Why is the Warden and his bride to be out here in the middle of the woods during a snowstorm?"

"We were hunting this morning, you see, my bride is quite skilled with a bow—"

"Spare me the details and get to the point." Jon quips, growing impatient.

My hands clench at my sides but release them a moment later, not wanting my emotions to best me. I relent and relay what was important. Though I did particularly enjoy boasting about Ilyana.
"My men were killed, our horses taken while the remaining betrayers of House Castell ambushed us and tried to kill us."

Jon looks to Ilyana in question, who gives a slow but saddened nod. No doubt ashamed of that fact. However, I wasn't entirely sure it was Castell who did it. It very well could have been my father.

"A horse!" Jon commands and one his men, a fat one, might I add, brings forth a black saddled horse.

"Accompany me back to Winterfell. I have word of the Wall I need to tell." His voice ended on a grave note and I gesture to Ilyana towards the horse.