When he forced his chest up, his head scraped up the ice wall and his gut knotted agonizingly. But both his hands were free. One bare and numb.

She limply rolled onto his lap and into his arms. Had she fallen asleep? In the snow at night? Why couldn't he think straight? A fog seemed to cloud his brain.

He blinked away the blur from his eyes and pulled off his other glove.

Raven locks hid her face. Erick pushed them back with his warm hand. The silky strands tangled around his fingers and her cold cheek electrified his skin. Earth, her magic felt good.

Her hair fell away from her upturned face. Blue. Dark navy blue stained her eyes and mouth. Damn it. She'd given up too much energy saving him.

Erick scooped her up to his chest and daggers seemed to stab his back as he clutched her close. Heat escaped through his tight throat. He couldn't hold back the sobs. He shut his eyes but tears squeezed past. "Ellie, why do you do this?" She'd repeatedly risked her life for him, despite the pain he'd caused her. He didn't deserve her sacrifice. Nearly drained of energy, she could have died. He was supposed to have saved her.

Icy cold, her forehead chilled his flushed cheek. Body heat alone wouldn't be enough.

"Take everything I have." He pressed his hand to her cheek. Shamefully, the sensation hardened his cock, until the sparks blazed hotter than before. They scorched his palm.

He wailed. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't pull away. She drew energy from him like blood sucked up from his veins. It burned through his flesh until icy cold seeped from his numb toes, up his legs to his gut.

Phil tore Erick's hand away from her pale blue cheek. "Save some to carry her down the pass," he warned, winded.

Erick hadn't heard him approach. Had the old man scaled the wall? "Come on." Phil tugged him up.

Wobbly, grip trembling under Eleanor's weight, he'd have fallen over if not for Phil. Flashes of light, almost like the stars above, circled Erick's periphery. Stomach empty and growling, he needed to replace what he'd lost. But there wasn't time. Night had fallen.

Red moonlight on the left combined with white moonlight on the right to make pink in the center. He normally hated the Red Moon. Its bloody light reminded him too much of the aftermath of battle. But tonight, it shone like a magical piece of heart in the sky.

He squeezed Eleanor's limp form. Even in pants and a bulky coat, she seemed like a pixie dangling from his arms. The beautiful lines of her neck begged for his mouth but it was just her pheromones' affect on him.

"She saved me," Erick mumbled. She could have left him for dead but she didn't. Did that mean Ellie still wanted him? He hadn't lost her?

"Of course she saved you," Phil grumbled. "Let's go."

How? A smooth wall of ice surrounded them.

"I climbed a tree on the other side," Phil said while scanning the clearing.

But there were no trees on this side. Just a white, circular wall, like a hybrid prison cell, complete with the white floor. Except for red moonlight on one side.

The old man drew a dagger from a scabbard at his belt and stabbed into the ice, high above his head. Tiny fractures spread like new spiders from an egg sac. He did the same with the other but he couldn't expect to break the ice. It had to be at least three feet deep. "I need yours too." Phil took them from Erick's belt and slid them into his own scabbards.

The old man pulled himself up with the planted daggers and stood on them. He shouldn't have been able to do that. "How...?"

Phil cut him off, "Your mother."

Magic. She must have stopped time's hands from Phil's body. Wait. Why hadn't Phil chased after her?

"She doesn't want me," Phil grunted as he stabbed Erick's daggers into the ice.

Erick's gaze dropped to Ellie's pale blue face. Would it be the same? Would she turn him away too when she woke? But she could have left if she wanted to. She could have let him bleed to death in the snow.

"I held on too tightly, afraid of losing her." Phil's mouth pressed into a hard line and his head jerked with each stabbed dagger. "If I'd met her earlier before she'd been hurt, maybe things could have been different."

Relief shouldn't soften Erick's gut. He should feel sorry for Phil. "Maybe she'll change her mind." But the words lacked any verve.

With a scowl, Phil climbed up Erick's daggers to the top of the wall. He rolled onto his belly and reached down. "Lift Ellie up."

Unconscious, she'd just fall limply back. "We need rope." Phil shook his head. "Lift her upside down, facing the wall."

It didn't make sense at first. But Erick pressed her against the ice. Oh, he wanted to wake her and do something else up against the wall. He let her torso fall back from his arms and gripped her hips. When he turned her body and hoisted her plump cheeks to face level, her thighs fell back and parted on his shoulders. He nearly moaned. The scent of her sex wafted up from her trousers. The rich mixture of roses and honey made his mouth salivate and his cock painfully rigid. If he could bury his face in that scent.

Not the right time.

He held his breath to avoid her perfume, as he reached down for her shoulder. He heaved up, one hand on the side of her waist, the other on her shoulder. Before she could fall back and topple them both, Phil grabbed hold of her foot.

He tugged her up and disappeared with her on the other side.

Fatigued and aching, Erick's shoulders trembled with the strain of just his weight as he pulled himself up the wall. It was just from the blood loss and lack of sleep and Ellie draining energy from him. One last pull and he lay atop the wall, panting for breath. He looked over the other side for Ellie and Phil.

Gone. His heart jumped. Phil wouldn't. Ellie was his niece.

Erick slid down the other side of the wall into a pile of snow. Air knocked from his chest. He couldn't move at first. Dense woods hid the stars and moons. Only splinters of the path showed between evergreen trunks and interlaced branches. When he scrambled up and darted through the woods onto the path, he feared he'd find nothing but a trail of half-formed footsteps.

Phil grimaced with disgust. "I changed her diapers. Why would you think that?" The old man knelt beside her and unfolded a blanket over her.

She lay on the sled. A few supplies were tucked up against her but not enough for all three of them.

Phil took hold of the rope and rose, toward Biston.

"No. Other way. Gildon's closer." They could sled down the smoother terrain on Gildon's mountainside.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Phil asked, warningly.

Erick swallowed the lump in his throat. "No but Ellie could die down the longer path."

Gildon wasn't much safer for him. The long and frequent wars between Gildon and Biston made Erick a favored target to bitter soldiers who'd lost brothers and fathers at Bistonians' hands. But that wasn't what Phil meant.

Gildon offered riches and power Erick couldn't match. He couldn't compete with Gildon's technologies and magic. If Eleanor had saved him only out of kindness, he was doomed. What if she didn't want him? He'd said horrible things and had treated her no better. He'd given her no reason to stay with him. What if he was too late?

Chapter Twenty-Four.

December 31, 9544 AR

North Point, Gildon

"Mmm, Erick." She snuggled into his tingly embrace. Nude and so deliciously warm. The muscles of his back danced beneath her palm and his hard rod twitched at her hip. She couldn't help but palm his firm cheek and squeeze to feel him buck.

"Wait, Ellie. We need to talk first." His hot cock disappeared from her.

Eleanor froze. He didn't normally talk in her dreams. Earth, why was she even dreaming of him? She hated him. Her eyes burst open.

His bare chest, scars and everything pressed against her face and his thick arms wrapped around her. When she tried to push free, his hold snaked tighter. What was he doing here?

"Relax. It's okay."

She clenched her jaw to keep from sobbing. No more crying. The jerk didn't deserve her tears. If she didn't feel so weak, she'd scream spells at him. She writhed to get a knee between them.

"Stop, Ellie. Just calm down and feel me."

Blankets slithered away from her face with her struggles to reveal a room she didn't recognize. Fire hissed and spat from the corner where a rich burgundy throw draped on the edge of a velvet settee. Intricate, flowery designs swirled on the carpet below, too clean and perfect for Biston. Both crescents of moons shone from the night sky outside the window. New Year's Eve. Earth, she was supposed to make it to Gildon before then.

Whispers from deep in the Earth wafted up like the scent of fresh baked sweet bread. Warm. But that couldn't be right. Had they woken? How?

"Don't you like it?" he whispered and stroked her back as if they were smitten lovers on a romantic New Year's Eve getaway.

Aren't we? he silently asked.

Earth, he was in her head. In every thought and every memory, even parts she kept hidden. She shoved and squirmed but couldn't push him out. He'd never been so strong before. No, she was just weak. She'd lost too much energy. With some distance and rest, she should be fine. Maybe she hadn't finished healing from Marilyn's tea. But tiny doubts struck holes in her self assurances.

"I can't help it. I just needed to feel you," he breathed, heating her scalp and fluttering her hair.

Her empty stomach churned. "I hate you. Can you feel that?" How dare he? The heartless bastard toyed with her so fickly. Did he enjoy torturing her? Did he honestly expect her to roll over and say it was okay that he treated her like dirt?

Wait. He didn't know who she was. None of this could be real. Was she dead?

Maybe the snow. Earth, she'd only meant to use a little energy to heal him, then leave. Had she died in the snow? Was this hell for what she'd done for him? Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut. Claws seemed to dig into her heart. Her hell was the torments of a man who was supposed to love her.

"No." He pulled her up to face him.

But she couldn't look. She didn't want to see the scowl and judgment on his face. "I love you, Ellie."

Sobs beat and crushed her chest. Those words weren't supposed to hurt.

He tried to kiss her strained lips but she lowered her chin against her chest to hide from him. She didn't deserve this. Blind, ignorant love had made her do those horrible things. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't wanted to.

"Ellie, look at me. You aren't dead. This isn't hell," he snapped, as if insulted. "I've done all the things you have and worse. No magic but the same general principle. In the Revolution, I killed men for a crown I didn't even want. I did it for my oath-brothers and all the sacrifices they made for me. You remember, right?"

At only ten years old, she couldn't protect them. Erick hadn't been much older, only fifteen, too young for war. She'd comforted him in their new home while everyone else scoured blood from the floors and walls. She'd hidden the stains with magical realms and soothed his wounds with twists of logic and stories of heroes. He'd let her help him then.

"The Revolution would have happened regardless of whether I wanted it or not and if I didn't kill them, they would have killed me. I don't like it but I've come to terms with it. All this," he gently poked her hidden guilt and wrongs, "is my fault. I'm sorry, Ellie. It shouldn't have been you alone. I was a moron not to see. Now open your eyes and look at me."

She wished it was enough but it wasn't. There was nothing he could say to erase his past tortures from her mind. Eleanor forced her heated eyes open and started to demand he leave, when he surprised her.

His dark eyes shimmered with an expression she rarely saw in them. Nervousness. Why?

She tried to slip into his mind but he completely blocked her. He'd never been able to do that before.

"Wait," he said. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he exhaled and moved to touch her cheek.

She jerked back, neck taut. Earth, that's not what she wanted. Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. What was wrong with him? "I don't want to be your fucking whore," she screamed and wrenched free. How could she be any clearer?

She stumbled from the bed onto the polished wood floor and scanned the room for something, anything to wear.

He bolted after her and grabbed her wrist. "No, Ellie. Wait." He knelt beside her feet, nude and so temptingly beautiful. "Marry me." His brow creased and his mouth opened but an explanation didn't follow.

She'd have melted at those words years ago. Now, they only hardened the ball in her gut. "That's it?" No heartfelt persuasions. No testimonies of love. Nothing to convince her that he wouldn't hurt her again. "Why now? Why not when I waited years for you to rescue me? You never even came to visit me. I'd begged you not to let them take me away but you didn't stop them. And when I asked for your help, you ignored me. Fuck off." She twisted her wrist from his grip to snatch the burgundy throw. Her whole body shook, rage pounding through her.

"Ellie, I was a mess. I was so fixated on everything I'd lost I couldn't see what I had. I didn't know who you were to me and how much you meant. But I can see now."

With the throw rug clutched to her chest, legs heavy, she hesitated. She wished she could kick him away and run. But a weak part of her wanted to believe him. So stupid. How could she? He'd been so cruel.

"I know. I'm sorry." He dropped his gaze. Kneeling on the floor, hands limp at either side, he'd have seemed remorseful and broken except for the thick erection that dripped pre-cum. "Your perfume," he grumbled. "It's impossible to think straight when you do this to me."

If only that didn't send delightful shivers down her spine. That position begged her to stroke his wavy hair and pull back his head, while her knee would hook over his shoulder. Erick always did have nice shoulders. Beefy and broad. She could easily fit her tongue in the deep divot in the center, at the base of his brawny neck.

Eleanor turned away to avoid the siren song of his hard body. Someone so awful shouldn't be so beautiful.

In a low, dull tone, he offered, "I got you something."

A bubbly feeling stroked her insides, though she didn't want anything from him. Surprising he remembered.

"Difficult to forget, being that it's New Year's Eve. Happy birthday." With his chin, he motioned to the settee where the throw had been.

A book. Elven script imprinted its cracked leather cover. Spells. Her mother kept texts like these locked away in a magically sealed chest. Was it real?

She touched the brittle surface but nothing happened. She'd always expected them to tingle like Erick's skin. When she carefully opened it, ancient elven words seemed to leap off the pages. Power vibrated in those words and in her chest.

"Where did you get this?" She'd searched all of Biston, as far as she could before her mother could catch her.

"Here." Erick audibly swallowed and his mind fell open to her with memories of yesterday and the night before.

Flashes of snow and trees whooshed by while he held her unconscious body but the path was smooth. Morning light grew as snow gave way to lush green. Musical flowers that rang with in the wind waited at the base of the mountain pass, where soldiers in blue stood watch beneath red and gold flags. Gildon. They were in Gildon.

Air rushed in, filling space she didn't know existed. She'd fly if she could. Her mouth curled up and she bounced on the balls of her feet.

While she stood taller, he slouched lower.