Chapter 4

Vira's POV 

Gryfyn shoved me down onto a flat granite boulder, his dark cloak falling open over my knees while the Northern wind howled through the pine needles above us. 

My fingers clutched the rough stone beneath me, my breathing coming fast and uneven as Gryfyn dropped to one knee in the freezing slush right between my parted legs.

"Hold still, Vira," Gryfyn ordered, his voice flat, rough, and entirely devoid of gentleness.

He didn't look up into my eyes. He reached into his thick leather belt, pulling a long, broad hunting knife from its sheath with a sharp metallic slide that made my stomach drop into my boots. 

Before I could scramble back off the stone, his broad hand shot out, clamping around my left ankle like an iron shackle. He lifted my foot off the ground, his thumb digging deep into my soft calf through the wet, torn hem of my borrowed gown.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, my small hand slamming onto his broad shoulder to push him away, but his heavy frame didn't budge an inch. "Do not touch my legs!"

"Your slippers are soaked through with melted ice, and your feet are already turning blue," Gryfyn growled, his golden eyes flicking up to glare at me for a split second before returning to his task.

 "If I let you keep these wet rags on your skin, the frostbite will take your toes before we hit the valley floor, and I am not going to drag you or carry you if you become crippled.

With two swift, practiced slices of his blade, he slit the delicate silk ribbons wrapped around my ankles. He pulled the ruin of my wet slipper off my foot, tossing it into the snow before sliding his broad, warm palm directly over my bare sole.

A violent, electric shock tore through my blood the moment his calloused skin touched my bare heel. The mate bond snapped between us like a whipped rope, sending a searing wave of heat shooting straight up my thigh and slamming directly into the lower pit of my stomach. My toes curled instinctively against his warm palm, a shameful, breathless gasp escaping my throat before I could stop it.

Gryfyn froze completely. His broad chest stopped moving, his fingers tightening around my heel until I could feel the hard bone of his knuckles pressing into my flesh. A low, dangerous growl started deep within his chest, a dark, primal rumble that vibrated straight through his hand and into my foot.

He lifted his head slowly, his golden eyes glowing bright and fierce in the dim afternoon light. "Your wolf is humming, substitute."

"It is the cold," I lied through clenched teeth, my face burning with a deep, furious crimson as I tried to yank my leg back from his grip. "Let go of me."

"It is not the cold, and you are a terrible liar," Gryfyn whispered, his voice dropping into a thick, heavy register that made the hair on my arms stand up.

He didn't release my ankle. Instead, he pulled my leg slightly closer, sliding his broad hand up to grip the soft, full swell of my calf, his long fingers spanning the thick muscle with possessive ease. His thumb pressed into my soft flesh, tracing a slow, deliberate line upward toward my knee, dragging the wet, torn silk of the dress with it.

"Your body responds to mine whether you want it to or not," Gryfyn growled low, his dark gaze tracking the goosebumps breaking out over my bare skin. "Your blood is screaming for my mark right now."

"My blood is trapped in an oath forced on me by a tyrant," I spat, my hazel eyes flashing with bitter heat as I leaned forward, my knuckles turning white where I gripped the edges of his heavy leather cloak. 

"I do not care what my wolf wants. I hate you, Gryfyn. I hate your cold eyes, I hate your broad guards, and I hate that you look at me like I am a piece of stolen land."

Gryfyn’s jaw flexed so hard a thick knot muscle stood out along his cheek. The dark, volatile anger returned to his golden eyes in an instant, burning away whatever faint trace of heat had been in his touch. He shoved my foot down onto the dry, fur lining of his cloak, standing up to his full, massive height in one swift, terrifying movement.

"Good," Gryfyn said, his voice turning back into solid iron. "Hold onto that hatred, Vira. Because it is the only thing that is going to keep you alive when we reach the North."

He turned on his heel, his dark boots crunching loudly through the snow as he barked orders at his men. "Kaelen! Leave the carriage in the ditch! We are riding double!"

My head snapped up, panic fluttering wildly behind my ribs. "What?"

Kaelen looked up from the cracked axle, wiping grease from his brow as he frowned. "My King, the wind is turning. Riding double through the high ridge with a storm coming in—"

"We have two hours of daylight left, and the horses cannot pull this dead weight through the drift," Gryfyn cut in, his broad chest heaving as he pointed toward his massive black warhorse standing near the tree line. "She rides with me."

"I am not getting on that horse with you," I declared, struggling to stand up on the stone, but my bare, cold feet slipped on the frosted rock.

Gryfyn was across the small clearing before I could even find my balance. He didn't argue. He didn't negotiate. He reached down, wrapped one massive arm around my soft waist, and hoisted me off the rock in one smooth, ruthless pull.

I let out a sharp cry, my hands flying up to strike his chest, but he ignored my weak blows completely as he carried me toward his horse.

 The heavy beast snorted, its dark eyes rolling as it smelled the fresh blood on my side, but Gryfyn grabbed the leather reins with his free hand and swung himself up into the high saddle.

Before I could slip down, Gryfyn hauled my heavy, silk-draped body up onto the saddle frame in front of him.

He pulled me back tight against his broad torso, his wide chest slamming against my back like a wall of solid rock. He wrapped his left arm around my waist, his thick, tattooed forearm pressing firmly across my midriff, locking my full hips flush between his wide, muscular thighs. He pulled his heavy leather cloak around both of us, trapping my cold body inside his scorching, pine-scented heat.

"Put your hands on the saddle horn and keep your mouth shut," Gryfyn growled right into my ear, his hot breath brushing against my neck, making me shudder violently. "If you fall off, I am not stopping to pick you up."

"I hope I fall, so I can watch you answer to your elders for losing your hostage," I whispered back, my voice trembling despite my sharp words.

Gryfyn let out a harsh, dark bark of laughter that vibrated straight through my back and into my ribs. "You have a dangerous tongue for a girl raised in a garden, substitute."

He kicked his heavy boots into the warhorse's flanks, and the massive animal lurched forward onto the steep, icy mountain trail, carrying us straight up into the gathering darkness of the Northern storm.