Blossom and the Beast (The Alder Tales Book 1) Page 5

  Blossom concentrated on the thick alder trunks that flew by so fast she couldn’t make out an individual tree. She swallowed down the sickness in her gut, refusing to show him how uncomfortable she’d become. But the longer she looked out the small window, the harder her stomach turned.

  “Ms. Frane?” the Vice Syndicate asked as he leaned forward, his steady eyes fixed on her.

  When she didn’t answer, he called out, “Olin, stop the carriage!” Somehow, they heard him over the thunder of horse hooves, and the carriage came to a sudden, grating halt. Blossom clamped a hand over her mouth as the last motion pushed her over the edge.

  The Vice Syndicate managed to get the carriage door open seconds before she collapsed to the ground on all fours and spewed up the half-digested remains of her peaches. Tears stung her eyes as they always did when she lost her meal. Sure she was finished, Blossom wiped at the spittle that clung to her lip and pushed herself back to standing.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Frane. If you had mentioned your motion sickness, I would have offered you the forward-facing seat.” The Vice Syndicate looked less cocky than usual as he held out a handkerchief and a metal bottle.

  Blossom accepted the square cloth to wipe her mouth and chin, but she eyed the bottle with suspicion.

  “It’s water,” he offered.

  When sniffing the bottle’s contents produced no odor, Blossom tilted it back and took the tiniest sip. Sure enough, clean, cool water. Once she had the taste on her lips, she gulped until she’d consumed all but the last few sips.

  When she had her bearings once more, she climbed back into the carriage and sat on the opposite side. Fig scurried across the carriage floor as the Vice Syndicate claimed her previous position. As it had before, the carriage pulled into motion, slow at first, then fast and bouncing.

  “Did you know you were prone to motion sickness?” The Vice Syndicate surveyed her with those even, blue eyes of his, but Blossom only watched out the window.

  He accepted her silence and produced a book from under his cloak, soaking in page after page as they continued moving. With each passing moment, Blossom was all too aware that she left behind her family and her life. She would never see any of them again, and for all she knew, she’d never see the Alderwood again. Though she’d known nothing else in her life, Blossom stared at every tree and branch they passed, determined to remember every detail.

  The falling sun began to throw shadows across the ground. Fast as they moved, she could barely see the pink of the alder blossoms so high up.

  Then, a cinnamon-brown blur appeared between the alder trees.

  Her eyes thought it a trick at first, but it moved fast, sliding between the large trunks in the distance. In the jarring motion of the carriage, she could only make out the curved back, the pointed snout, and the heavy paws.

  Blossom gasped, and without a thought, pushed open the carriage door and jumped. The speed of the carriage made her roll several times, and the fire of pain lit in her ankle, but she pushed to her feet and ran all the same.

  There, where she’d seen him before, a brown bear barreled toward her. In mid-gallop, he pushed to his back feet and shook, leaving a trail of thick fur in his wake. Beneath it, the narrow frame of Hale appeared.

  Blossom ran until she was close enough and launched into his arms, crying on his shoulder as she squeezed him tight to make sure he was real. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said between sobs. Hale held her hard and shushed her quiet, rubbing his hands along her spine as he had so many times before.

  “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,” he said in her ear.

  When she pulled away to look at him—to see her brother—his eyes were full of tears that had already brimmed over. Never in her life had she seen Hale cry, and here he’d run halfway across the Alderwood just to see her.

  “I tried to make him wait. You weren’t there and I tried—”

  “It’s all right. This isn’t your fault, got it? I just had to run a bit, that’s all.” He smiled through the tears that chased down his cheeks.

  Despite his words, Blossom knew it was her fault. A fresh stab of guilt struck her chest.

  From his pocket, Hale produced a wooden coin and slid it into her hand. On one side, the alder leaf and the other, blank. “I was saving it for your transformation, but this’ll have to do.” Blossom squeezed it in her hand.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, all the sound she could produce. Her arms flew around his neck once more.

  Hale squeezed her so hard he pulled her off the ground. After he reluctantly pried himself from her embrace, Hale grabbed her hand and walked her back to the carriage.

  There, the Vice Syndicate waited, his hands clasped behind his back. As the siblings made their approach, Blossom realized he’d been watching them.

  “Hale, I presume,” the Vice Syndicate offered with a polite smile and bow of the head.

  “You must be the Vice Syndicate Landel.” Hale, too, bowed his head with respect. Maybe Da was right. Maybe Hale would be the clan leader one day. He certainly handled the Vice Syndicate better than the others.

  “A pleasure to meet the last Frane brother. I’m afraid we are already behind schedule—”

  Hale shook his head. “I won’t delay you further. However, I do want you to know that should any harm come to my sister, I will be personally responsible for your death. You have my word.” While his words threatened, Hale’s tone was all cool and calm. It sent a rush of nerves down her spine. Hale wasn’t one to go back on a promise.

  The Vice Syndicate bowed his head once more. “I understand. I assure you that will not be necessary. Ms. Frane’s safety is my primary concern. My home is on the northern slope of the Huntari Mountain, if you should ever like to visit. You are always welcome and you will always find her well. For that, you have my word.”

  “Thank you.” Hale nodded, satisfied with the answer. Somehow, it seemed the two understood each other. Hale walked her around to the carriage door and held her hand to help her up the steps.

  “Hale?” she asked, biting back a fresh wave of tears. Only half-sitting on the seat, Blossom held Fig in her hands and kissed his head. “Can you take Fig home?”

  Hale nodded and accepted the ferret, a small package in his large hands. Holding Fig against his chest, he stepped back and let the Vice Syndicate climb into the carriage. With the door closed, she could only see him framed by the small window.

  “I love you Blossom,” he shouted as the horses pulled away. The last vision of her brother was clouded with tears.

  Kaide smoothed out the fabric of his cloak and tugged his collar up as high as it would go, as was his practice. His tattoo was well hidden.

  Other than fidget, he had no idea what to do. Blossom sat opposite him in the carriage, crying quietly, too afraid of him to even let him comfort her despite his attempts. She wouldn’t speak to him, unless to say something nasty.

  He liked that in her—that passion and fire. It’s what attracted him to her in the first place, but as the target of such energy, he was less than enthused.

  For the first time, he thought this all might have been a mistake. His instincts had yet to lead him wrong, but since his transformation, he’d had difficulty maintaining the balance between his totem and his human self.

  Was this the action of the animal inside him? Or was this the true Kaide?

  As he watched Blossom grieve over her family, it was hard to think he wasn’t a monster. Only a cruel creature would tear such a lovely young woman from a loving family. He was a fool to think he could do better for her.

  Even so, he couldn’t let her go. A thousand times he meant to offer her passage home, to say he changed his mind and he would nullify the arrangement with her father, but he couldn’t. Every moment he spent with her, he wanted her more. He wanted to prove that deep down, he’d been right.

  Blossom sat still and quiet on the carriage seat as the sun cast orange and pink rays across the sky, and when the
light hit her just right, he could see her eyes puffed and red-rimmed. Kaide vowed to never be responsible for such a look again.

  Olin and Druma navigated the horses through the Alderwood with great speed, making for a rather uncomfortable ride, but it was necessary. They wouldn’t spend any more time unprotected in the Alderwood than they had to.

  Like Blossom, he would rather have ridden a horse.

  When he’d left Terrana, he notified his servicemen that he intended to cross the Alderwood on horseback, rather than by portal. They’d stared with disbelief, waiting for an explanation, but he offered none. He didn’t have one to give. The animal side of him wanted to ride through the wood, though now that he had Blossom, it was hard not to think it was her he’d been after all along.

  The fading light of evening consumed both their faces in darkness, and for that he was glad. He no longer wanted to see the damage he caused.

  Two hours after sunset, the horses pulled the carriage alongside the Mother’s Inn. Lit torches illuminated the wooden structure carved with the image of the sacred tree on the southern wall. Kaide ached to get out of the stuffy carriage—to get his feet beneath him again—and once the carriage was at a full stop, he pushed open the silly little door.

  “Ms. Frane?” he asked as he held out his hand to help her down.

  She didn’t move.

  Kaide reached across the carriage and pulled back the curtain. Torchlight streamed in and flickered across her face, heart-shaped and freckled, so stunning it made his chest ache. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell with the easy rhythm of sleep.

  He would have liked to carry her inside to avoid disturbing her much-needed rest. But the carriage was too cramped and the door too small for such a maneuver. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder as gently as he could manage. “Ms. Frane?”

  She woke with a start, sucking in a desperate breath with eyes wide in panic.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” he said with as much calm as he could muster. He hadn’t meant to startle her. Yet another way he’d mistreated her today.

  Blossom sat pressed against the far corner and she stared at him with terror. He had hoped that would change when she realized he meant her no harm, but no—there was still that edge in her.

  Kaide stepped back, well away from the carriage door. He wouldn’t corner her. He wouldn’t give her another reason to hate him. “We’ve arrived at our night lodgings. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  A moment later she launched from the carriage like an arrow from a bow, let loose at last. Her curls were mashed from sleeping on them and her tunic was soiled and wrinkled, yet somehow she still managed that fire in those stunning green eyes of hers. That energy satisfied his doubt. He wanted her more than ever.

  Olin and Druma arranged to have the horses stabled while Kaide escorted her into the inn. He’d reserved every room the day before knowing he would want his privacy, but not realizing he would have such a young woman with him.

  Every surface in the building was made of alder wood. Firelight bounced off the walls and beams and the air hung heavy with smoke and the sweet scent of alder. A bannister of gnarled, twisted wood guided them to the upper floor.

  Blossom walked beside him at greater distance than he would have liked, but she was there, following him up the creaking wooden stairs. He couldn’t help but notice a limp in her gait, one she didn’t have before. As she did her best to hide it from him, refusing to mention it, Kaide pretended he didn’t see it.

  At the top of the landing, a staff of two women stood in wait, their bodies covered in crisp brown aprons over moss-green tunics and matching brown pants. They looked not unlike Blossom in the traditional Terra garb, but that’s where their similarities ended. They had none of her spirit or raw beauty.

  Kaide walked right past them.

  At the first room to the right, he pushed open the door. “This room and the next are for your use tonight. These ladies are here for your service. I’ll be across the hall should you need anything.” He motioned to the door on the opposite side of the hall, a room that mirrored her own. He kept his face blank despite the nervous sweat that trickled down his back.

  “Aren’t we supposed to—” Her voice trailed off before she could even say the word.

  Kaide shook his head. “I’m in no rush. You’ve had a long day as it is.” He didn’t tell her that he had no intention of enduring some thrown-together ceremony in the middle of the night. There would be plenty of time for making their union official once they reached the safety of Pyrona.

  Blossom nodded and stepped into the room, though she went no farther than two steps past the doorway. “Why do I need more than one room?” She crossed her arms and glared as she awaited his reply.

  Kaide smothered down a laugh. Damn, she was feisty. “For anything you’d like, Ms. Frane. I am not in the habit of leaving my guests in poor accommodations.”

  “Now I’m your guest?” She scoffed and curled a lip in disgust at him.

  “You have always been my guest.”

  Blossom offered him a cross look before she slammed the door in his face, louder than necessary. Maybe she liked the sound. Kaide had used an unsuspecting door to settle his own frustrations a time or two.

  To the women who stood in wait, he instructed, “She is to have everything she needs but is not to leave these premises.” They both nodded their understanding.

  Satisfied they would keep watch over his charge, Kaide retired to the room reserved for his personal use. Like all the rest, it held a sizeable straw bed wrapped in moss-green sheets. The headboard was authentic alder wood carved in the image of the Alder Mother, her limbs marked with the four branches: a leaf for Terra, a flame for Pyro, a curl of wind for Aero, and a drip of water for Hydra—the classic religious imagery on which their realm was founded.

  On the far side, a good-sized fire blazed and filled the room with warmth and light. Kaide stripped out of his smothering cloak and laid it across the only chair. In his black pants and crisp scarlet shirt, he stood before the fire and contemplated all that had transpired on this strange day.

  Olin entered minutes later with Kaide’s travel bag in hand.

  “What do you think of her?” Kaide asked with his eyes on the flames.

  In that well-practiced apathy, Olin replied, “It’s not my place to judge your decisions, sir.”

  Kaide turned to his serviceman, the one who had been with him longer than anyone. Olin’s skin was tough as leather from his years in Pyrona, his skin and hair dark, as most were. His lynx totem made him cunning and quiet. Kaide trusted him above all others. “I’m asking your opinion.”

  Olin stood stiff-backed and feet together, as servicemen were taught, but his posture softened when he realized Kaide spoke to him as a confidant rather than a Vice Syndicate. “I think she will take some time to adjust. The question is, are you willing to wait that long.”

  Kaide nodded. “Thank you, Olin. Please ask Druma to keep an eye on her tonight. I don’t think she’ll try to run—” But she has that spirit.

  He would admire her even more if she tried to run. It would be a major disruption to his plans for the week, but it would be yet more evidence of her fighting side.

  “And please make sure someone sees to her ankle. I’ll do it myself if she’ll have me.” Even as he said the words, he knew that to be impossible. He’d met her only hours ago and already he knew her well enough. She wouldn’t accept his help no matter what.

  Olin resumed his usual stiff posture and nodded before closing the door, sealing Kaide in the room alone. With nothing but the fire for company, the weight of his decisions pressed on him. Tomorrow, he would do better. He would find a way to show her that he had not torn her from her family in vain.

  Blossom sent away the women who hovered like bees, buzzing about asking to heat her bathwater or wash her tunic. Their constant fussing only put her further on edge, though even after they were gone, she didn’t feel ev
en remotely at ease.

  So she sat in the tub and tried to enjoy the warm water. As much as she wanted to reject anything offered by the Vice Syndicate, even Blossom couldn’t pass up a hot bath.

  After her run through the wood yesterday, she probably needed it.

  No, not yesterday. Today. This afternoon. In the passing of a single day, she had gone from only daughter of the Bear Clan to prospective bride to the strange and serious Vice Syndicate. In mere hours, everything had changed.

  What she couldn’t quite figure out was why they weren’t married yet. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. He should have brought her back to his clan and wed her on the spot. They’d have a lively festival and she’d retire to his personal tent to complete their arrangement. Whatever the reason, she was more than happy to wait another day. Blossom was sure she didn’t have it in her to do any of it tonight.

  Though it did trigger a worried line of thinking. Why the wait? Didn’t he want her? Was there something wrong with her? What did he intend to do with her if he wasn’t going to marry her?

  She couldn’t decide if it was worse to marry him or not.

  Blossom gripped both sides of the wooden tub and let the hot water seep into her skin, warming her to the bone. The heat made her aching ankle swell. When she finally got the chance to look at it, she saw it already darkened with a good bruise, but otherwise seemed fine. A day of rest and she’d be good as new. It would take more than a sore ankle to ruin such a bath. In the camp, a bath would have been considered a waste of water.

  While she wanted to dislike every aspect of her situation, Blossom was a child of the sun. She sought heat and light, rather than the cool of the Alderwood. Never had she had such a bath.

  But here, in the overindulgent lifestyle of the Vice Syndicate, Blossom soaked in the luxurious warmth. Soap bubbles dotted the surface of the water, and for a while, she occupied herself with popping them, one by one.