True North [True North series book 1/3]

“What in the…?!” I mumbled, flicking my eyes up to look at Warrian.

He had already grabbed my elbow, inspecting my arm. “Do humans always heal this quickly?” he asked, running his fingertips over the scars. It tickled, so I pulled back my arm.

“Never,” I answered, “it must’ve been the Altenite.”

Maista raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I took some Altenite,”

I explained, “it stopped the bleeding almost instantly. I figured i’d still need sutures, but I guess it healed me fully.”

Maista shook her head. “It couldn’t have,” she said, “Altenite doesn’t do anything. It’s quite calming, when brewed into a tea, but it doesn’t heal wounds or even stop any bleeding.”

I swallowed. “Well, it did,” I said, “the bleeding stopped right after I ate it. And now I’m healed. Perhaps it only works on humans.”

“Perhaps,” Maista said slowly, looking me up and down again.

I shifted, and subconsciously stepped closer to Warrian. He put his arm around me protectively.

“Well,” Maista said finally, “if there isn’t any healing to be done, I’d like to go back to sleep.” She turned around and went back into the tent.

Morai looked at Warrian and I. “You can stay in Thor’s sleeping quarters, Warrian,” she said, as she began walking back to her own tent. “The Calenti can spend the night in the servant’s quarters.”

“Her name is Serin,” Warrian snarled, “and can’t she just stay with you? There’s males in the servant’s quarters, and she is unmated.”

“No,” Morai simply said, before turning around.

“Could I stay with you, perhaps? I could sleep on the floor again, you would hardly even know I was th—”

“What do you mean, stay on the floor again?” Warrian asked.

“Last night, or whenever it was,” I began to explain, but Warrian cut me off again.

“You made her sleep on the floor?!” he fumed, stopping Morai from going back into her tent.

“I don’t know what Thoridor did to her,” she said sweetly, before disappearing into her tent. “What happens in his sleeping quarters is none of my business.”

Warrian’s face contorted with an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “You slept with Thoridor?” he asked softly. I shook my head.

“No— not with him. In his tent, yes. He told me to act like I had claimed him, so his father wouldn’t.”

Warrian’s face softened. “So you slept on the floor?”

“Well, on a couple of chests, actually,” I corrected myself. “And he didn’t touch you?”

Warrian asked. “No, well… not really. But he did bite me.”

Warrian’s face darkened, and he brushed my hair back with his hand, exposing my neck to him.

“Bite you?!” he echoed slowly, scanning the skin of my neck with his eyes, “did he draw blood?”

I brushed the bite mark on my neck. The dried blood had washed off in the lake, but the scarring was still there.

“Yes,” I replied, but it wasn’t too bad. And it kept his father from going after me, so I suppose that’s a good thing.”

Warrian sighed. The look in his eyes confused me. “I suppose it is,” he finally said, “it would not have ended well if the King had made his claim on you.”

He pulled his hand back and gestured to Thoridor’s tent. “You’re welcome to stay with me,” he said, “you can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll keep my distance, of course.”

I looked at Warrian. He was so beautiful. I took in his kind eyes, his golden hair, the deep smile lines around his beautiful lips, and his straight teeth. I wondered if it would be the worst thing if he didn’t keep his distance. I’d be going back to my own world soon, anyway. I wondered if I’d miss him when I did.

“Thank you, War,” I said, and I smiled at him.

Warrian seemed a little surprised upon hearing his nickname, but then smiled back warmly. “Anytime,” he said, “now let’s go get some food in you.”

I followed Warrian to yet another tent, a much bigger one this time. It seemed to be a communal one, with long, wooden tables, and matching benches along their sides. There was a kitchen-type area in the back, with a few wood-burning stoves lined up next to each other, and a large workbench in the center. There was cured meat hanging from a wooden rack over the bench, different cuts of animals I didn’t recognize. Warrian stepped into the kitchen and started preparing us a meal. It wasn’t until I smelled the food, that I realized how hungry I had been.

“Can I do anything?” I asked, watching Warrian slice some unknown meat into strips. Warrian shook his head.

“Perhaps you could make us some tea?” he suggested, nodding to a kettle on one of the stovetops.

I found some dried herbs hanging from a shelf, and held them up to my nose. Nothing stood out to me, smell-wise. I didn’t recognize any of their scents, and they looked unfamiliar too.

“They’re all safe,” Warrian said, and winked at me. “I prefer the tiny, dark purple blossom and the green ones with the serrated edges.”

I brewed us both some tea, and handed Warrian a cup.

“You’re hurt!” I said, noticing a fresh cut on one of his fingers.

Warrian looked at his hand. “Oh, barely,” he said, wiping the blood off with a rag, “probably just nicked it while cutting the meat.”

I looked around for something to dress his wound with. I found nothing usable. “I suppose you don’t have any Altenite lying around here, do you?” I asked half-jokingly.

“Afraid not,” Warrian smirked, and pushed a bowl of liquid my way. It seemed to be some sort of soup, and it smelled amazing.

I took a bite, grateful to fill my hungry belly, but the second the liquid hit my tongue, I doubled over, pressing my hands to my mouth. I grabbed the rag Warrian had used to wipe his hands on, and spit the contents of my mouth into it.

“I’m so sorry,” I said immediately, grabbing Warrian’s arm apologetically. “I’m so grateful you prepared this for me. It just… I’m sure it’s just the meat that I’m not used to — but all I can taste is blood.”

Warrian’s face flushed and he choked on his own soup. “Blood?” he repeated warily once he had stopped coughing, “are you sure?”

I nodded. “Again, I’m sure it’s just the meat. The animals where I’m from just taste… different.”

Warrian nodded slowly. “Did you have anything to eat before?” he asked, “since you’ve been here, I mean.”

I shook my head, thinking back to my first day here. “Just a drink. But that tasted like blood too, now that you mention it.”

Warrian stared deeply into my eyes. “Did it, now?” he asked absent-mindedly.

He stood up, and grabbed a sprig of one of the herbs from the shelf, crumbling it over his bowl and stirring the soup again.

“Try it now,” he said, pushing the bowl my way. I reluctantly took a small bite, preparing myself for that awful, metallic taste again. I was pleasantly surprised to find it didn’t have the faintest hint of a bloody taste.

“This is amazing,” I purred, taking another bite. Warrian handed me a bunch of the herbs.

“This is called Wisproot,” he said, “it’s known to neutralize strong flavors or smells. You should keep some on you, for future use, just in case.”

We finished our soup, and headed back to Thoridor’s tent. Together.