The Wild Heir(62)

I lead her toward the cabin. Before we step back inside she says to me, “You don’t mind if you and Viktor sleep up in the loft and I have the bed below?”

I pause and stare at her for a moment. For some reason I expected this to go differently, maybe because it always goes differently for me. Though with us, I should really learn that I don’t know what to expect.

What had my father told me? Find someone that keeps you on your toes.

“Sure. Einar will be on the couch.”

She squeezes my hand and stares up at me. “It’s not that…it’s not that I don’t want you in my bed tonight. I just don’t…I’m a bit drunk. That was one hell of a kiss. And I just don’t trust myself around you…it wouldn’t be appropriate. Especially here.”

Oh.

She sure could have fooled me. She seems to have more control than anyone I know.

“Okay,” I say with a nod. “That’s not a problem.”

Of course I’m wondering if she would say that if Viktor and Einar weren’t here, and suddenly I’m cursing Einar and the damn Swede.

But it is what it is.

And with Ella I will gladly take whatever I can get.

I open the door for her and we step back inside the cabin, smiling at Einar and Viktor like my whole life hasn’t changed out there.





Fourteen





Ella





I have the dream again.

The same one as always.

The beached pilot whales.

The desolate beach.

The cold wind.

The man.

I still can’t see his face, I can only get a vague idea of him, and every time I think I have a grasp on who he is, it flows out of my brain like water.

This time, though, he doesn’t walk toward me.

He walks straight into the sea.

Past the whales, into the oil.

And I realize he was never meant to save me.

I was meant to save him.

When I wake up, it’s to the sound of giggling.

I pry my eyes open and expect my brain to be sluggish, my head to be pounding. That was two nights in a row that I drank way more than I normally do. But to my surprise, I feel fine. I know I didn’t drink as much as the night of the bar but maybe it’s something to do with the crisp mountain air.

I slowly sit up in bed and climb out, having no idea what time it is. There’s a window in the small room and it shows a light dusting of snow outside. The sight of the pure white coating the trees makes me smile. It will be nice to see what everything looks like in the daylight. I fell asleep in thermal leggings and layers of tops, so I just pull on a sweater and I’m warm enough.

I slowly open the bedroom door to see Magnus and Viktor fully dressed, standing over what seems to be a passed out Einar. Magnus has a Sharpie in his hand and has completed drawing half of a twirly mustache on Einar’s face.

“You guys!” I hiss.

“Shhhhh!” Viktor shushes me, waving his hands. “We’re almost done.”

I shake my head and creep on over to them. Einar’s nose is twitching, but he’s not awake yet.

“You guys are so immature,” I whisper. “To think you’ll both be the kings of your country one day.”

“If you think I won’t draw mustaches on people when I’m king, you have another thing coming,” Magnus says, concentrating as he finishes the rest of the mustache.

“Voila,” Viktor says, grinning. “He looks like an evil villain.”

He does. Like a cartoon character. I try not to laugh.

“He’s going to kill you guys when he wakes up,” I say, folding my arms. “And how is he still asleep? I didn’t even think Einar blinked, let alone slept.”

“This happens every time,” Viktor explains. “He has a few beers and then he’s dead to the world.”

“What happens if someone tries to kidnap you guys and he’s out cold?”

Viktor and Magnus look at each other in surprise and then Magnus says, “We’d pull a Kevin McCallister. You know. From Home Alone.”

“But with guns,” Viktor adds. “We have rifles. I was in the military. Don’t worry, Princess, you’re well protected.”

I raise my brow. I don’t know about that.

Now that the prank on Einar is over, Magnus proudly looks over his work, puts the cap back on the Sharpie with a triumphant click, and gives me a smile. “So, how did you sleep?”

“Good,” I tell him, my eyes now glancing to the main window for the first time. “Oh my god, the view.”

I walk over to the window and peer out. I can see now why I almost went over the edge last night. The cabin is built right on the lip of a rock face, leaving an unobstructed view of the valley below. You can see the snowline halfway down the slope of the adjacent mountain, like God just decided to stop painting. The mountains here are bare, with very few trees, which make them look otherworldly.

“Gorgeous,” Magnus says from behind me, his voice so low and rough that it makes me think he might not be talking about the view at all. He stops right behind me, his hot breath on my skin.

I swallow hard and feel the little hairs on the back of my neck rise. Every memory of last night comes flooding back to me, but they had never left to begin with. I’ve just been too afraid to think about it.