Blood on the Snow

Chapter 9: Blood on the Snow

​The candle on the mahogany desk had burned down to a pool of translucent wax before the heavy oak doors finally creaked open.

​I didn't look up from the parchment I was marking. My fingers were stained with dark ink, my posture rigid as I forced myself to maintain the illusion of complete composure. But beneath the velvet robe draped over my shoulders, my pulse was hammering against my collarbone. The silver bracer on my left wrist had been humming continuously for two hours,a low, electric vibration that told me Joss’s core magic was elevated, sharp, and actively drawn into violence.

​The heavy, unhurried tread of riding boots echoed across the marble floor.

​Joss walked into the inner study. He wore his full battle regalia,black steel pauldrons over dark leather armor, a heavy fur mantle draped across his broad shoulders. Cold, night air followed him into the room, smelling sharply of pine, iron, and the distinct, coppery tang of fresh blood.

​He stopped at the edge of the desk, looking down at me through the dim candlelight. His golden eyes burned with a dark, primal intensity, his chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths.

​"It is done," Joss said, his deep voice carrying a gravelly edge.

​I slowly set the quill down, leaning back against the plush velvet cushions of the armchair. My gaze drifted down to his right hand. His leather gauntlet was smeared with dark crimson, a leather pouch held tightly in his grip.

​"The western mine?" I asked, keeping my tone carefully measured.

​"Obliterated," Joss replied smoothly. He tossed the leather pouch onto the mahogany desk between us. It landed with a dull, heavy thud, rolling across the parchment scrolls. "Your decoy cipher worked precisely as you predicted. Thirty Southern operatives entered the pass at midnight expecting an unguarded supply transport. None of them made it past the ridge."

​I stared at the leather pouch. I didn't need to open it to know what was inside. "The quartermaster's informant?"

​"Lord Vane’s brother-in-law," Joss said coldly, unbuckling his bloody gauntlets and tossing them onto a side table. "He had been selling route maps to the Southern Guild for six months in exchange for land deeds in the border provinces."

​"A fool," I murmured, shaking my head. "Grandmaster Vane would have executed him the moment the Citadel fell anyway."

​"He met his end before he could see the harvest," Joss said. He walked around the desk, stopping beside my chair. The scent of rain, steel, and blood radiating off him was overwhelming, yet the moment he stepped within arm's reach, the volatile, restless spark in my lower belly settled into a deep, comfortable calm.

​My body recognized him. My magic drank in his presence like parched soil absorbing rain. I hated how easy it was, how my own instincts were slowly being rewritten by the royal bond.

​Joss reached out, his bare hand—warm and steady despite the freezing mountain air outside,cupping the side of my neck. His thumb slid over my pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of my heart against his skin.

​"You look pale, Gawin," Joss whispered, his golden eyes scanning my face with alarming focus. "Did you take the evening tonic?"

​"I took it," I rasped, trying to tilt my head away from his touch, but his fingers held me firmly in place. "Master Edwin brought it two hours ago. I am tired, Joss. That is all."

​"You worked through the night," Joss growled softly, a protective edge creeping into his voice. "I told you to rest while I was at the border."

​"I couldn't sleep while thirty assassins were moving through your mountain pass!" I snapped, my dark eyes flashing with sudden frustration. "If your shadow-riders had failed, if they had breached the lower gates…"

​"They didn't fail," Joss interrupted, his voice dropping into an absolute, unyielding baritone. "Because your plan was flawless. Because you gave me the key to dismantle them."

​He leaned down, dropping to one knee beside my chair so his face was level with mine. The heavy fur mantle fell away from his shoulders as he reached out with his other hand, sliding his broad, calloused palm beneath my velvet robe until it rested flat against my lower abdomen.

​The sudden warmth of his touch sank straight through my tunic, making my breath hitch violently in my chest.

​"You protected the Citadel tonight, Spymaster," Joss murmured, his thumb lightly stroking the hidden, subtle curve beneath my clothes. "You protected our child."

​"I protected myself," I whispered defensively, though my voice lacked conviction. "If Vane’s men breached the Citadel, they would have dragged me back in chains or slaughtered me where I lay."

​Joss let out a low, dark laugh,a sound that vibrated straight through his hand and into my core. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath my jaw.

​"Keep telling yourself that, Gawin," Joss whispered into my skin, sending an involuntary shiver straight down my spine. "Tell yourself whatever lies you need to sleep at night. But as long as you use that brilliant mind of yours to keep us safe, I don't care what reasons you give."

​His hand pressed firmer against my stomach, his royal magic surging forth to reinforce the silver bracer on my wrist. The deep, agonizing exhaustion that had been weighing on my shoulders all night began to melt away, replaced by a heavy, soothing warmth that made my eyelids flutter shut.

​"You need to sleep," Joss said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle as he shifted his grip, sliding one arm beneath my knees and the other around my upper back.

​"Joss... put me down," I protested weakly as he lifted me off the chair, cradling me against his chest. "You're covered in blood and rain."

​"I am carrying you to bed," Joss commanded smoothly, ignoring my feeble resistance as he turned toward his private bedchamber. "And you are not leaving it until noon tomorrow."

​I buried my face into the crook of his neck out of pure exhaustion, smelling the sharp contrast of his metallic armor and the warm, addictive scent of his skin. I was a captive. I was a spymaster. I was an assassin.

​And as Joss laid me down on the plush silk bedding, pulling the heavy velvet quilt over my shoulders and resting his broad hand over my belly, I knew I was falling deeper into his web with every passing night.