Mistress of the Wind (6 page)

Astrid began to lower herself down, and an arm snaked under her and pulled her close. His hard body was warm and naked. Tense. His skin smelled clean, with a hint of forest pine, and she breathed his scent in with delight.

Their movements caused the ax to slip down and clatter to the floor and Bjorn stilled beside her.

“What was that?”

“My ax.”

“You really had one?” He sounded astounded.

“Of course. I asked the room for one when I heard you bump into the table.”

Bjorn’s laugh rumbled loud in her ear. “Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“I will.” She held herself back from him, unsure once again, like the first night with him in the forest.

“Come closer.” He spoke mildly, but she could hear the strain beneath and at last, once again like before, she lay her head on his shoulder, giving up the attempt to see his face.

And as she drifted off to sleep, she realized this was nothing like sharing with Bets and Freja.

Chapter Nine

H
e could stay no longer.

He breathed in the sweet smell of roses and crisp cotton that clung to Astrid and willed himself to get up.

Dawn was coming, and no matter how good it felt to lie beside her, curved warmly against him in deep, trusting sleep, the time to change was almost upon him.

He had to be far from her when it came.

The thought of the return of the pain he’d experienced last night filled him with dread. If it was to be a twice-daily ordeal, he would need to be stronger than he’d ever been before.

Astrid sighed quietly in her sleep, and the sound centered him. There were benefits to taking his human form. Going through the fires of hell to enjoy them every day would only make them sweeter.

He slipped from the bed, let the curtain fall back behind him and opened one of the four shutters, so Astrid would have light when she woke.

As he closed the door behind him, and heard the lock click into place, he was already making plans for his day. Astrid was all that stood between Norga and her goal, and she would never be safe until this year was over. From the moment he’d placed his paw on the mountain’s stone door and declared his quest part-way fulfilled, Norga would have known he’d found his lady.

Which was why Astrid could not set one foot out of this mountain.

He, though, would be out today and every day for the next year, keeping the mountain free of Norga and her minions, whatever it took.

The tired, beaten down bear Norga had taunted in the mountains was gone.

In his place was a killer.

* * *

She woke soon after dawn. A chink in the drapes of her bed let a beam of light straight onto her face, and she squinted and looked to her side.

Bjorn was gone, and she thought of him with a strange flutter in her stomach.

She’d managed to calm the beast but she did not fool herself that it would last long. She shivered. Remembered the feel and smell of him. The way he held her close and still kept his word.

So different from the smelly, lusty-eyed boys of the market who leered at her and her sisters and called out to them.

Freja had someone who courted her when she came to market, but neither of them had a chance of marrying unless they found a way to build a house of their own. Both their family homes were filled to bursting and they would have no life with either of their parents.

Well, perhaps that had changed. Two bags of gold were now at Freja’s disposal.

For the first time, Astrid saw the reason for some of Freja’s desperation. She put her complicated thoughts of her family aside and slipped out of bed, opening all the shutters and letting in the light.

Who was Bjorn to live in such a place, and have such powerful enemies? He seemed so powerful himself, she hardly dared think who or what had bested him, enchanted him and restricted him.

If he would not tell her, she would find out.

Decided on her goal, she wished up hot water, clothes and breakfast.

As she pulled the soft blue wool dress over her head she caught sight of her ax, and nudged it under the bed with her foot. It wouldn’t hurt to have it handy for the future. For who knew what that future would bring?

When she was ready, in a dress and boots fit for a queen, she tried the door, and to her relief it swung open. She was free for the day.

She reached the top of the stairs and could see the main hall was deserted. There was an emptiness to the place that made her sure Bjorn was not here.

Her chance to explore. Get to know these rooms.

And find a way out.

* * *

He’d wanted to be back inside long before dusk. But the sun had already begun to dip below the horizon and he was only now reaching the stone cliff.

Meeting up with old friends and allies had taken longer than he’d thought. He’d had to tread warily. Any one of them could now be in league with Norga, some a more obvious choice for her than others.

All paid him homage, had given thanks for his sacrifices, but it was impossible as yet to tell who meant it and who said it for a chance to get to Astrid.

They were wasting their time, though. He would trust no one with Astrid.

At least meeting up with some of the old guard had reminded him what this was all for. Why he’d never given up.

As he called the mountain door to open, he wondered uneasily where Astrid was within. He had been beyond foolish to risk returning so late.

As soon as the stone rolled closed behind him he ran up the stairs and toward her bedroom, slowing with relief as he heard the splashes of water from within.

He imagined her in her bath, soapy and naked, and his dread of the transformation to come eased. Until this was over, his man’s body could never see her in her bath, but he could touch her skin, learn her inch by inch in the dark.

He reached her door the moment the sun set and rose up on his hind legs to take the pain he knew was coming, to face it head on.

It hit him like the vicious swipe of a bear’s claw, felling him with a single blow. He’d thought knowing what was to come would make it easier, but it did not. He curled up tight. He would surely, surely die this time—

“Bear . . . Bjorn? Are you out there? Are you all right?” Astrid’s fingers scrabbled on the wooden door, and it creaked as she leant against it.

As suddenly as it had come, once again the pain lifted, leaving him shuddering in shock.

He lay still a moment, listening to Astrid’s bath water drip off her onto the golden stone floor.

“Bear,” she whispered, and he could tell she’d knelt down and pressed her cheek to the ground, trying to see below the door.

“Go back to your bath,” he managed to croak. “I . . . there is nothing to fear. I will come to you soon.”

She did not reply, didn’t move either, the only sound the drip, drip, drip of scented water.

Eventually, he heard her get to her feet and walk back to her bath. Heard the soft splash as she sank down into it. He straightened slowly, like an old man, his body still reeling from the memory of pain.

A small trickle of water had leaked from under her door into the passage. Bending, Bjorn trailed his fingers in it and lifted them to his nose.

Roses.

He breathed deeply.

He needed a hot bath of his own, to ease his muscles, help them forget. He needed to eat after the long, physically punishing day.

And he needed to go to Astrid.

Tonight his seduction would begin.

* * *

Astrid stood on a warm rug in her bare feet and nightgown, and looked straight up through the skylights at the night sky.

She needed to find a way out. The clues to Bjorn’s enchantment lay outside this mountain’s walls, not within them.

There was nothing in this place but beautiful furniture and empty rooms, their golden floors and silver walls oppressive in the flickering torch light. Silent and dark as a tomb.

She needed to breathe the fresh air, and the wind . . . she needed the wind on her face, whispering in her ear. She would die in this luxurious cave.

Just thinking of the wind brought tears, and as they stung her eyes she remembered all the times its fingers caressed her like a mother quietening her child, murmured sweet nothings after a hiding from Father, or a meal missed for punishment.

“Oh, wind,” she whispered, and lifted her hands up as if to catch a star.

The wind whispered back. It blew down the narrow skylight tunnels, and swirled around her, lifting her long nightgown up around her knees as it danced and leapt and played with her hair.

A sense of joy filled her. She had called and it had come. She wondered now how often she’d done this without realizing it back home. Began to wonder about herself. About why Bjorn had chosen her.

“I wish I could be free as you,” she told it, reaching out to touch the tight band of rushing air, as solid as stroking a cat.

It began to twist faster and faster around her, pulling and tugging her, lifting her skirts to her waist.

Astrid felt herself lift a fraction off the ground, then drop down.

It wished her free, too.

“Now,” she called, and leapt, and the swirling air took her and held her, propelled her upwards for a short way. Dropped her again.

“I’m too heavy.” It broke her heart to say it, and the wind calmed down, gently lifting her hair and the hem of her gown, tired out.

Astrid looked up at the sky light again. “If I had a ladder . . .” A ladder! “I want a . . .” she stopped, her whole body trembling. Bjorn could be here any moment. And she wasn’t running away from him, she just wanted the freedom to go outside when she chose. The freedom to discover his secrets if she could. She could ask the room for the ladder tomorrow.

The click of the lock made her spin round, her eyes straining in the dark to see the door. She felt the wind twist up her one last time, and rush out of the skylight into the night.

The door swung part way open and Bjorn stood just behind it.

“Get into bed, Astrid, and close the drapes.”

“What if I don’t?” She wished the wind was still with her, it would make her feel braver.

There was a moment of silence. “Then I freeze you in place again, and close your eyes, so I can come into the room and put you into bed myself.”

There was a vein of steel in his voice, a hardness that she sometimes heard there. He would do it.

She would rather get into bed herself than have him make her.

“Very well.” She made no effort to hide the anger in her voice. “I am slowly getting to know you, as I wanted.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to play the villain, but you leave me no choice. You cannot see me.”

“Why not? Just tell me why and I will stop trying.” She climbed onto the bed as she spoke, pulling down the drapes.

“I have already explained. I cannot tell you. I made a bargain with my enchanter, and not telling you the details of my enchantment was part of it.”

“Then be warned, I will not stop trying, for I made no such bargain.”

He made a sound of frustration, entering the room and closing the door over-hard behind him.

“Do not try, Astrid. For both our sakes.”

She did not answer him. She could not sit, quiet and obedient. She could not follow blindly with no information. It would break her.

They would not agree on this, and now she had a possible way out, she would go her own way, as she always did.

As for Bjorn, he was stubborn as she was, she could tell. The difference being she never took getting her way for granted, whereas he could hardly believe it when he didn’t.

That was her advantage over him.

She heard him close the skylight shutters and move toward the bed, and an icy fist closed over her stomach. There wasn’t enough air in this velvet tent to sustain her. She tried to fill her lungs.

“What is it?” The concern in his voice helped to steady her.

“Nothing.” She drew in a deep breath.

“You are afraid?”

He slid down next to her, cocooning them in the soft down bedding, and the scent of him hit her. The forest after rain.

“You smell like roses,” he whispered, and ran a light finger down her cotton-clad arm.

Mention of her bath scent reminded her of what happened earlier outside her bedroom. “What happened? You were in pain.”

His finger stopped. “I don’t want to talk of it now. The change from bear to man is . . . hard. There is nothing either of us can do.”

“I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand and touched his face, the first time she’d ever reached out to him. The first time she’d felt the lines and curves of his human face.

“One day, I will overcome it. It won’t be forever.” His finger began moving again, down her arm to the dip of her waist.

“How can I help you?”