Home > Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(40)

Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(40)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Thad nodded, turned and disappeared in the shadows.

Ruben was already yanking the still struggling man away and he too disappeared in the shadows.

I stood still frozen but my head swiveled woodenly to the side as Frey walked calmly to the dead man to collect his knife, putting his boot to the base of his neck to do so.

He sheathed it after wiping the blood off by stabbing it twice into the snow.

I swallowed back a sudden surge of vomit and my head got light.

Tyr whinnied and suddenly I was caught in Frey’s strong arm. He mounted his steed at the same time dragging me with him. Then I stared blankly ahead of me as Frey touched his heels to Tyr’s flanks and we took off at a full gallop.

Frey held me close with his arm around me, his torso pressed into my back so we were both leaning over Tyr as we cleared the town and the darkness of the forest which was shot by the bright gray of moonlight on snow surrounded us.

My husband just killed two men.

Right in front of me.

And one of his men killed a man.

Right beside me.

And they didn’t pause, check for pulses, call police or anything.

And they were good at killing. Very good. Remarkably skilled. Unbelievably. They wasted no time, they didn’t hesitate, they didn’t blink and they didn’t even get winded or break a sweat.

They’d done it before. Often.

I started trembling but not with the cold that bit at my cheeks and ears.

It was fear. Pure fear the like I’d never felt in my life.

I closed my eyes tight and my trembling tore through me deeper, turning to shakes.

Frey felt it.

“Wee Finnie, it’s all right,” Frey whispered in my ear, “you’re safe, my winter bride.”

I opened my eyes for two reasons. One, because I saw the remembered and probably never to be forgotten vision of the man’s body jump and his blood flood when Thad unceremoniously yanked his knife out of his neck and two, because I didn’t feel safe.

Not at all.

What I did feel safe was saying that Frey definitely had enemies. Four men had come at him.

Four.

And he’d dispatched them without a thought and left them dead or dying in the snow of a sweet, quiet, winter village that had two awesome waterwheels and he did this without a second glance.

Oh God.

At a gallop and using Frey’s shortcut, we were home in five minutes. Frey took Tyr right to the door, dismounted the minute Tyr came to a stop and hauled me off the horse. He held my hand as he guided me to and through the front door but used my hand to position my back against the wall right at its side.

“Stay here, wee one,” he muttered then I watched blankly as he moved about the room, the bathroom space, he climbed to the loft and down again then moved through the kitchen, out through the backdoor then back through the kitchen.

Then he came to me.

I automatically tipped my head back when he got close and I stood there stupidly as his big hand curled around the side of my neck and his mouth came to my forehead for a light touch.

Then his eyes caught mine.

“I need to stall Tyr and my men will be here soon. I’ll need to speak with them when they arrive. Feed the fires, wee one, I’ll meet you in our bed.”

Then before I could open my mouth to make a noise, he was gone.

I stood against the wall staring into the room. Then I lifted my hands and saw they were shaking, even in the weak light of the dying fires I saw them shaking.

Shaking so bad it was out-of-control.

I closed my eyes tight for a moment before I opened them and wandered to the fire, stoking and feeding it then putting the grate to and turning to the other one. Once finished with the second one, I fed a few logs to the kitchen stove then I took off my boots and, still clothed, I climbed to the loft and fed the fire up there too. Then I lay down on the bed, over the covers, back to the railing and pulled a pillow to my chest and held it tight.

Faster than I would have expected, I heard the front door open and close meaning Frey had come back and my body tensed.

I didn’t know what to do, what to think.

This world might have elves, animals that could talk to you and trees that had glitter bark but it also had men who could take a life without hesitation and without even the barest hint of remorse.

And my husband was one of them.

Thinking of the Frey who had been mine for the last three days, my only thought was, how could that be?

Thinking of the Frey I had first met when I came to this world, I knew the answer.

I felt his presence hit the loft then I felt it hit the bed.

Then I heard his voice come at me softly, “Finnie, you’ve not changed.”

And that was when I felt his light touch pulling my hair off my shoulder.

So that was when I moved, swiftly rolling away from him and gaining my knees, I shuffled back to the end of the bed, pillow still held tight to my chest.

“I don’t… don’t…” I shook my head, “I don’t think I want you touching me, Frey.”

He was on his knees too, but settled back on his heels, and his eyes were on me.

He studied me for a moment before, still speaking softly, he asked, “What’s this, wee one?”

I didn’t delay in replying. “You killed two men tonight.”

He moved as if to come toward me and I shuffled back another foot, my feet clearing the edge of the bed and he stopped so I did too.

“Finnie –”

“You didn’t blink,” I cut him off. “You didn’t… you didn’t…” I shook my head and my throat clogged so I swallowed and whispered, “You didn’t even blink.”

“Wife –”

“No,” I shook my head again, then closed my eyes tight and looked away before opening them and looking back, “No. I… I don’t know what you’ve done to get enemies like that but I can guess, considering you killed them without hesitation and then rode away while their warm blood still melted the snow, and, I can’t say… I can’t even think… I don’t know… I don’t know but I don’t think I want anything to do with a life like that.”

“Finnie, come here,” he ordered, extending an arm to me.

“No,” I shook my head, “no way, Frey. I’m sorry but no freaking way.”

“Finnie, come here,” he repeated and I shook my head. He dropped his hand but held my eyes and said gently, “My winter bride, those weren’t my enemies.”

“And whose were they?” I fired back. “Thad’s?”

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