“I’ll have to take your word for that.”
In the silence that fell between us, the many questions I had rose again as I stared at the Dark Elms. “How did you know what was happening?” I asked, feeling my cheeks warm. “How did you know to come?” Why did you finally come? I didn’t ask that because I didn’t need to know.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “I knew you had been hurt.”
My brows puckered as I glanced back at him. “How?” Then it struck me. “The deal?”
“Partly.”
A prickly sensation swept over me when he didn’t elaborate. “Partly?”
“The deal linked us on a basic level. I knew when you were born. If you were ever seriously injured or close to death, I would know.”
“That’s…kind of creepy.”
“Then you’re sure to find the next part even more so,” he told me.
“Can’t wait to hear it,” I muttered.
A hint of a smile appeared as he glanced down at me. “Your blood.”
“My blood?”
He nodded. “I tasted your blood, liessa. It wasn’t intentional, but it has come in handy.”
It took me a moment to remember the night in the vine tunnel when he’d nipped my lip. “My blood lets you feel my emotions when I’m not around you?”
There was a tightening in his expression. “Only if they’re extreme. And what you felt was extreme.”
Uneasy, I turned back around. Had it been the pain? Or the panic from when I was held down? Or had it been that ancient, icy-hot thing inside me? I didn’t like knowing that he had felt any of that. I also didn’t like this stupid sidesaddle position. Leaning back, I lifted my right leg and swung it over to the other side of Odin. The act caused an ache in my shoulders and upper back, reminding me that the skin was very tender there. Ash’s arm tightened as I squirmed my way until I was facing forward.
“Comfortable?” he asked, the one word thick and heavy.
“Yes,” I snapped.
He chuckled.
I gripped the saddle’s pommel to keep myself from turning around and doing something reckless. Say, punching a Primal who had turned a mortal to dust with a single look for example. “Why are we in the woods?”
“You cannot travel where we’re going through an opening in the realms,” he answered, and I became aware of where his hand now rested on my hip. His thumb…it moved like it had the night by the lake, in slow, idle circles.
“Doing so would rip a mortal apart,” he continued, and that managed to shift my focus from his thumb. “We will have to enter another way.”
The only sound when the Primal fell silent was Odin’s hooves upon the ground. No birdsong. Just like the night at the lake when there had been no signs of life. It was as if the animals had sensed what I hadn’t realized. That death was among them.
After what I had seen, I didn’t think I could forget that again. But that damn thumb of his was still drawing small circles, over and over. Even through the cloak and night rail, I felt the coolness of his skin. I didn’t understand why his skin was so cold or how his touch could still make my skin feel so warm. Hot, even. “Why is your skin so cold?”
“What do you think death feels like, liessa?”
My heart lurched as I stared ahead. This wasn’t the god Ash, who had teased and touched me by the lake. This was the Primal of Death, who had set all of this in motion along with the Golden King. I couldn’t forget that.
“You are surprisingly…amiable at the moment,” Ash observed.
I glanced back at him. “It probably won’t last.”
Another faint smile appeared. “I didn’t think it would.” He guided the horse around an outcropping of boulders. “You’re still angry with me.”
It would be wise to lie. To tell him that all was forgiven. That was what I had been taught. To be submissive. Never challenging. Become what he desired. Vocalizing my anger wouldn’t help, but my thoughts were far too scattered to formulate a plan, let alone behave as if I weren’t furious that he hadn’t told me who he really was and that he never planned to fulfill the deal. That I wasn’t confused as to why he’d even intervened today.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really were at the lake? Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t lie.” His gaze cut to me. “Some do call me Ash. Not once did I say I was a god or deny that I was a Primal. That was your assumption.”
“A lie by omission is still a lie,” I argued, fully aware of the fact that my anger was utterly hypocritical since I was also omitting a whole hell of a lot. Like, for example, what I planned to do.