White Stag (Permafrost #1)(24)
“They’ll be pleased if we manage to catch breakfast,” I said, keeping my voice light.
“Of course we’ll manage.” Rekke sniffed, obviously offended.
From where he stood, Panic nickered as I grabbed my bow. I reached out and ruffled his mane. “Stay here, boy.”
Rekke raised an eyebrow at me. “Won’t we cover more ground on the horses?”
“We’ll scare more game,” I said and started forward. “Come on, before the others wake.”
Rekke paused, glancing at the sleeping goblins. “What if they’re attacked?”
What if I don’t give a damn? “I’m sure they’ll be able to handle anything.”
She grabbed her bow and followed at my heels. The cold air was sharp in my lungs as I walked through the Permafrost. Dead leaves and branches littered the ground, forcing me to walk with care. The skeletons of trees and other plants reached high into the sky, desperately clinging to a sun that would never warm them.
If I could forget where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, it was almost as if I were back home so many years ago, hunting for my family. My heart sank in my chest; that would never happen again. Even if I managed to escape this and live in the human world, there was a nagging part of me that feared I would never belong. And Soren, gods damn him, is right about would happen. The idea of the goblin lord looking out for my well-being made my body burn in a way I didn’t understand. Soren was better off as far away from me as possible.
I reached for the nail in my bracer, hoping for the reassurance the cold iron would bring, but snatched my hand back at the slight stinging in my fingers. When I looked, they were bright red with small burns. Nerves fluttered like a trapped moth inside my belly. This isn’t right. It can’t burn me yet. I’m not like them. Fear rooted me to the spot as the events of last night replayed in my head. Then, I’d acted exactly like them.
“You and Soren looked very cozy last night.” Rekke’s comment stopped me in my tracks.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you implying what I think you are?”’
She gave a wicked grin. “Yes.”
Gods, I was hoping I only imagined my blush. “Well, you’re wrong. I’d rather eat a live rat than be with him, and I’m sure he’d say the same.”
Rekke shrugged. “I doubt it. I mean, he’s so passionate and handsome and strong.” Her eyes gleamed as she spoke, and I had to hide a chuckle. It looked like she might fancy Soren herself. Well, she could have him for the good he did me.
“Passionate?” I said. “I wouldn’t use that word to describe him.”
“Well, I would. Besides, you can tell he cares about you.”
“I’m his property,” I said bluntly. “Of course he cares.”
Rekke sighed and shook her head. “Just keep telling yourself that.”
I blinked. “Wonderful.” The nagging feeling about last night was growing harder to ignore. I wasn’t blind. I knew that for a goblin, Soren paid a great amount of attention to me, but that didn’t change what he was. And no hunt, no gesture of presumed kindness, nothing would change that. Soren would always be a goblin. That was what mattered.
Or at least, it used to. I told the voice inside me to shut up and focused on the crisp leaves crunching under my feet and the cold air chilling my bones. I wasn’t sure how close we were to the border, but from the way the trees grew densely packed together and the birdcalls up above, it was possible we were close enough for some of the life to seep over from the other side. But we could still be miles away. Once, when I’d gone out hunting with Soren, years ago, I’d tried to defy the bond that bound me to the ’frost, running for miles until he ultimately caught me. I still had the scar on my arm where our blood had mixed when he spoke the words that kept me inside the Permafrost’s borders and let him know, in some telepathic way, if I was about to hurt myself.
“Considering your actions, I don’t trust you not to kill yourself,” Soren had said, a few weeks after I was put into his care. After the hunger strike and violent episodes in which the trauma of what had happened to me clouded my mind from reason, perhaps he did have a solid point. But at the time, I didn’t understand why he bothered to care.
With the bond to the land of the Permafrost in effect, he let me run through the woods as they slowly gained more and more life, only for me to be jerked to a halt near the border as if I were controlled by puppet strings. I hadn’t talked to him for a week afterward until the anger faded and the hatred cleared. Yet even as devious as he was, there was no doubting he protected me when he didn’t need to and that he treated me better than he should’ve.
Perhaps he always had this sinister plan for me, from the moment Lydian threw me down at his feet. Perhaps he always knew what I’d become. Maybe some instinct deep inside him told him there was a kindred spirit in me. Maybe he found a connection or a friend. I didn’t think he was toying with me; Soren might’ve been many things, but he wasn’t needlessly sadistic. I couldn’t deny that in his own sick, twisted way he cared about me, and in my own sick, twisted way I cared about him too. It was far easier when blind hatred was my only emotion.
“We’ll stop here,” I said. “Let me see your stance.”
Rekke pulled her bow from where it rested against her back. She got into her stance, her small, pink tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated. Despite the unpleasantness of it all, watching the young goblin lifted a weight in my chest I hadn’t known was there. There was something pure and innocent about her that I hadn’t seen in a long time, and a part of me couldn’t help but covet it.