Forbidden (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (16 page)

“The way we lord it over the animals and eat them, you mean.”

They fell into silence. Snow White’s already overactive mind was fetid with enslaving otherworldly people who resembled little green balls.

“Gustav,” she said after a while, “how well did you know your father?”

“I didn't see him much, but I sense he didn’t like me as much as he liked Wilhem. I guess I’m not what you call the physical kind.”

Snow White remained mum.

Gustav went on, “But he would try . . . sometimes. The stars were the only thing we could talk about, and he would tell me the myths surrounding the Big Dipper, and the Pleiades, and I would say ‘But father, none of these are true. Stars are just little suns like ours in the sky’. And he would turn to me with that sorry look in his eyes and wish I was more like Wilhem.”

After a pause, Snow White said, “I’m sorry about your father.”

“I guess men who live the way he did have no choice but to die a violent death.”

Snow White thought about her stepmother, and said nothing.

That night, she dreamed of her stepmother. Snow White was in the antechamber closet, its door slightly ajar. Once again, Isobel was at the mirror. She clutched its ebony frame. Her reflection’s flaming eyes stared back at her.

“Sister, it is done. The Weaver has killed Snow White,” the Queen said.

“Fool.” Her reflection’s voice was cold. “The Weaver is dead. See for yourself.”

The mirror dissolved into the forest. The assassin’s misshapen body lay in the long grass, the exact way they left him, his eyes picked out by ravens.

“Tick tock, tick tock.” A cruel smile played on the reflection’s lips. “Do you feel the flesh sagging off your face, sister?”

In a rage, Isobel struck the mirror with her fists. “No!”

“Remember the blood pact, sister.”

“I’ll tear her heart out with my own hands!” Isobel cried, and her face was so furious that Snow White cringed inside the closet.

She woke up, covered with sweat even though the temperatures had fallen to zero. The campfire flickered, keeping the huddled bodies warm. All except Aein, who chose to sleep a long way off by the rocks.

The nights blended into days of bleakness. Water became sparse, so Aein divined for them. Gretel showed them which tubers could be eaten. When they were resting, Wilhem – unable to keep still – built targets from rocks and shot his arrows at them for practice.

“I don't think I’ll ever miss,” he told Snow White proudly.

“I don’t think modesty will ever be your virtue.”

Wilhem grinned. “Look,” he offered Snow White, “I’ll teach you.”

“About modesty or archery?”

She hoisted his bow with her left hand, feeling its tautness. She hadn’t known how heavy these things were, but if twelve-year-old Wilhem could pull them . . . oh well. She set her jaw determinedly and refused to let her arm muscles buckle. With Wilhem’s hand guiding her, she drew back the bowstring and closed one eye, aiming for a hillock of rocks twenty feet away.

The arrow cut the air cleanly and flew just above the pile of rocks.

“Try again,” Wilhem urged. “You’re already better than Gustav. All his arrows land on his feet.”

“I heard that. And they do not,” Gustav retorted from afar.

Snow White practiced the next day, and the day after next, taking turns with Wilhem while Aein watched from the side.

Wilhem aimed his arrow at a pile of rocks. At the last moment, he swerved and shot it in Aein’s direction instead. The arrow landed an inch away from Aein’s foot, its stem thrumming.

Snow White flashed a wary look at the smug Wilhem.

“So I missed.” Wilhem shrugged.

Aein narrowed his eyes.

“My turn,” Snow White quickly said. She seized the bow from Wilhem and notched an arrow.

Aein stepped in front of her and the target. “Your friend has an issue to settle with me,” he said.

“You bet I do,” growled Wilhem behind her.

The hairs rose on Snow White’s arms and it had nothing to do with the increasingly chilly wind that swept down the rocky plains.

“No, Aein, he’s just a boy.”

“I am not going to do anything to him. Quite the contrary.” Aein held up a rock. It was as large as his head, but he hefted it easily with one hand. “I hear you are a betting man, Master Wilhem.”

Snow White watched suspiciously as Aein walked to a rocky spire jutting out from the ground like a misplaced tooth. The top of it reached his chest. Aein placed the rock on top of the spire. It settled into the ridges comfortably, as though it belonged there. He then walked backward five paces and stopped. From Snow White’s line of vision, the rock was a stony heart against Aein’s chest.

“You get one shot at this rock, Master Wilhem,” Aein called. “I will remain on this exact same spot.”

“What are you doing?” Snow White demanded.

If the arrow missed the rock by a whisker, it would make a direct beeline for his body. Gustav and Gretel came running up, wearing extremely interested expressions.

Aein continued: “There are conditions, however. If your arrow strikes the rock, you will drop all grudges against me.”

Wilhem chortled. “This is just too easy!”

“You pride yourself on never missing a target unless it’s on purpose,” Aein said. “It would be interesting to see if you choose to miss.”

Snow White began to shake her head. “This is stupid . . . stupid!”

“So the choice is mine.” Wilhem grinned. “And you trust me?”

Snow White let the bow drop to the ground. She strode to Aein, the blood rushing in her head. As she approached him, she said in a low voice, “Don’t do this. He’ll kill you. He bears you no love.”

“There is righteousness in him.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Then call it a test.” Aein’s mouth was set in a stubborn line. “So far, since I have come to your land, I have been lied to, beaten, tortured, almost raped, and almost killed. You are the only good person I have met who did not try to harm me.”

“Don’t do this,” she said in despair.

“Aein,” Wilhem called from where he perched. “You’re amazingly fast. We’ve seen what you can do. What’s to stop you from grabbing my arrow if it misses the rock?”

“We’ll tie his hands behind his back and his feet together, so he can’t run,” Gretel said gleefully.

Snow White threw her a disgusted stare.

“Then let it begin if we are all agreed,” Aein said.

Snow White glanced pleadingly at Gustav to see if he would take her cause, but he stood bemusedly beside his brother, arms folded. The sun beat relentlessly down on their heads as Gretel secured Aein’s wrists and ankles with lace bands from the caravan. Aein stood like a statue. The atmosphere wore little tinder sparks.

Gretel appraised him. “You’re a handsome one. Pity. If you had been in the village, I would have taken you abed. You would’ve made beautiful children.”

Aein’s brown eyes were steady. “I have faith in all of you yet.”

“You don't know what we’re capable of,” Gretel retorted, striding away to join Wilhem, who was notching an arrow.

“I don’t believe all of you!” Snow White exclaimed. Her stomach churned. She couldn’t bear to watch, and she couldn’t bear to not watch. She let the cold wind sweep across her face, blowing back her hair and cooling the sweat upon her brow. Her trembling hands rose to her eyes.

“Ready,” she heard Gretel call.

Snow White blinked away her tears.

“Aim.”

Imaginary ants ran all over her skin. She didn’t dare allow herself to breathe. Every fiber of Wilhem’s bow tensed like a living animal. Snow White saw, very clearly, Aein’s form delineated against the ground and sky, his dark hair forming a sharp contrast against his white tunic.

“Fire.”

Snow White’s heart twisted as the arrow barreled toward Aein with a twang.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Thuck! The arrow struck the rock, which cleaved in the middle and split like two halves of an apple. Snow White’s heart leaped to her mouth. Aein stood there, the shaft of the arrow embedded in his chest. She screamed.

She ran to him, unaware of everyone and everything around her. Tears stung her eyes as the wind whipped her hair. Aein held his ground, peering down at the arrow sticking out of his heart. Snow White’s feet pounded on the rocky ground. Pebbles skittered. Some part of her wondered why he was still standing, and why he was so goddamned calm when he should be shrieking like the very earth itself was breaking, the way her mind was doing now.

“Aein!” she cried again, reaching him. The arrow had entered cleanly; there wasn’t even a blood stain on his white shirt. “You need a healer. We’ll get you one. Skiva is not that far, if you can just last out until – ”

“Snow White,” he interrupted gently. “It is all right.”

His knees buckled. She caught him before he fell. Her shoulders and arms sagged with his weight as his sweat flooded her nostrils. Footsteps sounded behind her. The shadows of Gretel and the twins threw themselves like an eclipse on Aein’s pale face.

“Go away!” Snow White said to the others fiercely without turning her head. “You did this to him, you killed him!” She laid Aein on the rocky ground, her eyes blurring so badly that she almost couldn’t see.

“I aimed for the rock.” Wilhem’s voice filtered through, bewildered. “What does it mean when it splits like that? It’s never happened before.”

Snow White grasped the arrow’s shaft with both hands. A twinge of pain bolted through her own chest as if she had been the one who was struck.

“This is going to hurt.” Her eyes held Aein’s brown ones as she pulled the arrow swiftly out. He gasped, pain spreading across his face. The arrowhead wore only the thinnest layer of blood. Aein’s white tunic remained unblemished except for the slight vertical tear where the arrow had pierced. The air smelled of iron and crushed ants.

“Maybe he deserves to die,” Gretel said from behind her.

“Go away!” Snow White repeated fiercely. “I don’t need help from any of you. Just leave us alone.”

“I aimed for the rock, I swear.”

“I know,” Aein said, staring at Wilhem.

“Maybe you both better go,” Gustav said to his mother and brother. They retreated. Gustav knelt by Aein and ripped his shirt open.

“It’s a strange wound,” he said. “There’s almost no blood in it.”

Aein’s eyelids flickered.

“Help me move him to the caravan,” Snow White begged.

As Gustav loosened Aein’s bonds, Snow White noticed a curious thing. The wound was smaller than it had been moments ago. She blinked. No blood surrounded its edges now. It also wasn’t as deep as she initially thought. She stared at Aein, perplexed. His eyes were now closed and his breathing was a steady rise and fall. She glanced at Gustav to see if he noticed, but he hadn't seen the wound when she first pulled the arrow out. Was that only minutes ago?

She blinked again, not trusting her eyes.

“Here,” Gustav instructed, “you take his legs and I’ll take his shoulders.”

She nodded quickly, unable to tear her gaze away from Aein’s clean chest.

#

That night, they were alone in the caravan. The last time she saw them, the twins and Gretel were asleep by the fire outside.

With its nude mannequins and brightly patterned cloths, the atmosphere in the rose-scented caravan was almost too cheerful for a sick bed. But Snow White barely noticed anything else. She was too busy watching Aein while he slept. He had not awoken since the shooting. His chest now rose gently, devoid of any wound. Her incredulous eyes took in the pale unblemished skin, hairless and so smooth it had the texture of silk.

Her tongue went dry.

Intermittently, the wound had closed before her very scrutiny. Bit by bit, it knitted, a mouth puckering, drawing the surrounding flesh unto itself. What would have taken days was compressed into mere hours.

In a daze, Snow White laid her ear on Aein’s chest. A heartbeat thudded within it, strong and resonant. The warmth of his flesh seared her cheek. She had scrubbed the grime from him with tepid water, beginning with his face and neck, travelling down his body to his muscled legs, and avoiding only the flesh that lay between.

She raised her head and gazed at him again. His perfection caused a lump to bubble in her throat. She swept a palm over his brow to feel for fever. It was cold. Oh, but he was beautiful. The way his perfectly formed nose dipped into the little depression above his lips. The strong clean lines of his jaw.

He was a god, she was now certain. A god that could heal himself.

Snow White was so absorbed that she failed to notice Gustav peeking in at the window. He made to tap at the glass, but thought the better of it when he saw her face.

Aein’s eyelids twitched. The blood in Snow White’s veins turned to ice. He was about to wake up, she had her wish. So why was she so scared?

At the window, Gustav melted into the shadows to listen.