Bane of Winter Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Other books by Debbie Cassidy

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019, Debbie Cassidy

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover by Vanesa Garkova

  Format by Gina Wynn

  Chapter One

  Icy flakes of snow bit at my cheeks as I trudged through a swirling blizzard that had been howling for hours. The chill had burrowed and settled deep in my bones, and a throbbing ache had made itself comfortable in my feet. My eyes pinched and blurred with the blindness that comes hand in hand with spending too long in a forever white landscape of snow. This was my life now. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration; it had only been two days since I’d climbed out of an enchanted window in an enchanted mechanical tower and left one cursed place for another. But still, it felt like forever. I adjusted the hood of my fur cloak, pulling it down over my forehead, and ignored the grumbling of my stomach.

  We’d been traveling for two days and two nights, battling the elements in a wasteland of ice and snow, not a soul in sight, no birdsong, no woodland creatures, just a forest that seemed to stretch on forever, and all I’d had to eat were two handfuls of berries. At least we were headed in the right direction. The Raven made sure of that, flying up to keep track of the terrain.

  There was a village ahead, maybe another ten miles on foot, but we had another five miles until we left the woodland behind. The Raven kept me company, talking about empty things, and then flying up to check our route for danger. But even with him by my side, my heart ached with emptiness, but it wasn’t Finn’s face that came to mind, it was Veles’s—carnal and beastly and proud. We’d traveled together for such a short time and yet he’d left an imprint on my soul.

  The Raven cawed overhead and then circled me before swooping off again. It was his sign for the coast is clear—not that it mattered. I was beginning to believe that we were the only living beings in these parts, but maybe we were just the only fools insane enough to venture out in this storm. The other inhabitants of this place were probably doing the wise thing and staying indoors.

  How much longer until the blizzard passed? Because it would pass, leaving us free from its raging frenzy for an hour or two before returning in full force to tear at my skin again.

  As if placated by my thoughts, the wind began to drop and the pelting of icy snow eased its bite at my skin. The world fell into silence—the muffled and eerie kind. A soft caw ripped the air and then the Raven landed at my side in his human form. He shook his head and adjusted the cuffs and lapels of his long dark coat.

  He had a penchant for preening, this one. “You look fine.” I continued to trudge through the snow, ignoring the ache in my limbs from the effort.

  “And you look positively frozen. There is shelter up ahead, another half hour’s walk. What do you say, hmmm?”

  “I say I’m hungry.” My tone was grumpier than I’d intended, but it was hard to be pleasant on an empty stomach.

  He took long, easy strides through the thick blanket of white, barely making an effort to dislodge his boots from the drifts. I glanced behind him and noted he’d left no footprints.

  “How are you doing that?”

  He stopped to stare blankly at me. “Doing what?”

  “You’re not even leaving an impression in the snow.”

  “I wasn’t aware it was a requirement.”

  Was he serious? From the look on his hawkish face, he was. Come to think of it, his black hair was bone-dry despite the moisture in the air.

  I shook my head and continued through the trees. It had to be a fey thing—the ability to seem so unaffected by the insane elements. Or maybe it was simply a Raven thing.

  And then the vista of pure white and tall, proud, slender trees was marred by an anomaly—a tree, blackened, twisted, and drooping, stood to the left of our path. The healthy trees leaned away from it, as if attempting to disassociate themselves from the abhorrence, as if desperate to pull up roots and scuttle away.

  Raven came to a standstill beside me. “It’s dying.” His tone was hushed, almost reverent.

  “Don’t you mean that it’s dead.”

  It looked dead.

  Raven shook his head. “I can feel its life force and its struggle to fight the taint.”

  “Taint? Is this … is this Oblivion?”

  “Hush.” He slapped a hand over my mouth. “Do you want someone to hear, hmmm?”

  I shook my head, and he released me. “What are you talking about?”

  Movement farther to our left and deeper into the forest caught my eye. Something was cutting through the healthy trees and making a beeline toward the twisted one.

  Raven pulled me against him, his chest to my back, and pressed his cheek to the side of my face. “Don’t move. Do not make a sound, and they will not see us.”

  A prickle ran over my skin. The Raven’s magic?

  But my pulse was hammering too fast in my throat, and my eyes were too wide against the chill as my brain struggled to comprehend what it was seeing. A pale, naked thing dashed through the snow—a creature that at first glance could easily be mistaken for a rabbit or a hare, but on closer inspection was humanoid in shape and form. A fine network of black veins covered its arms and shoulders, and its hands were abnormally large and tipped with yellow curved talons. It clambered toward the twisted tree and paused to glance over its shoulder with its soulless, black, slanted eyes, and for a moment it was as if it was looking right at me. But then it opened its too-wide mouth, exposing its serrated teeth, and began to make an awful chattering sound that scraped at the inside of my head, making my feet want to run and my throat want to scream.

  The Raven’s grip on me tightened, and his breath on my cheek calmed my nerves just in time for several shapes to come running out of the healthy trees toward the twisted one. The light glanced off them, and here and there was the impression of gossamer wings, here and there was the residue of beauty. They gathered at the foot of the tree as if to pay homage to the fallen element of nature. But the shallowness of Raven’s breath and the firmness of his grip warned me that something horrific was about to happen.

  The tree, the fallen, dying tree, lifted its branches, slow and feeble, and let out an echoing moan—an almost plea. And then the naked creatures attacked. They swarmed over it, tearing at its bark and releasing a crimson river. Low moans filled the air and the branches lashed weakly, but the creatures dodged the blows easily, pulled the flesh tree to the ground, and began to devour it. In a matter of minutes, the snow was a bloody mess, and the tree was nothing but a crimson,
fleshy pulp which the creatures fed off in a frenzy.

  The Raven pressed his mouth to the shell of my ear. “Move with me, slow and easy.”

  He began to back away from the carnage until there was a good distance between us. And then he spun me around, grabbed my hand, and broke into a sprint.

  We ran through the trees, aches and pains forgotten, the horror of what I’d witnessed like fresh paint in my mind.

  We ran for long minutes until the forest began to thin, and then the Raven brought us to a halt. He pushed me up against a tree and pressed his lips to my forehead.

  “Stay here. Do not move unless you want to be seen, hmmmm?” And then he was airborne once more.

  Probably checking to see if the monstrous little biters had followed us. My pulse was still hammering in my throat, but the heat of flight quickly ebbed, leaving me cold and shivering.

  A caw up ahead alerted me to his return and then he landed in front of me. “We’re safe, for now, but the blizzard is circling back this way, and it seems to have picked up force. We need to get to shelter.”

  He led me through bracken and brush, over a hillock and then down into a narrow valley and down farther into a cave.

  “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “Did I not find us shelter last night, hmmm?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  It was warmer already, away from the force of the elements, and as we moved farther into the cave, the moist tang of fresh earth and nature filled my head.

  “Wait here while I gather firewood,” he instructed.

  He was gone before I could protest, but there was enough light to make out the interior of our temporary refuge. Earthen walls and a hard-packed earthen floor, and best of all, it was dry. My knees were suddenly weak, and I allowed myself the luxury of crumpling to the ground. A reprieve was very much in order. If Veles were here, he’d probably be out hunting some small animal for supper. He’d bring it back dripping and offer it to me raw. A smile tugged at my lips even as the memory of the god of death made my heart ache with longing. What was he doing now? Was he thinking of me like I was thinking of him?

  A chilled gust of air swirled into the cave, sweeping the Raven back in with it. He dumped a pile of wood and kindling on the floor.

  “Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.

  I’d done the honors the night before. Building a fire wasn’t so hard, but the Raven seemed to be avoiding it.

  I sat back on my haunches. “Do you not know how to build a fire?”

  He took a step back. “Oh, I know how all right, but feathers and fire do not mix.”

  Ah, well that made sense. My stomach grumbled. “Fine, I’ll build a fire while you go find some food.”

  He inclined his head. “As you wish.”

  And then he was gone.

  Berries, that’s what it would be. More berries. When I got out of this winter forest, I never wanted to see a berry again.

  “Are you warm enough, Wynter, hmmm?” The Raven’s arms tightened around me, his body heat seeping through the material of my tunic and into my chest. “I can lie over you like a blanket if you wish.”

  His body was all hard planes, but there was softness here and there, like in the curve of his throat, where his skin kissed my lips. It felt good to be warm, it felt good to hide from the chill of the hungry blizzard that wanted only to tear the skin from my bones and turn me to ice.

  The inside of the cave glowed with the embers of the fire I’d built. Why couldn’t we just stay here? The thought of going back out made my bones ache with weariness. The thought of coming across those tiny, naked, hungry creatures made my blood turn to ice.

  “What were they? What were those things?”

  He sighed wearily. “Victims of the taint on this land. Changed and altered and different. Hungry and lost.”

  “Oh, God. Can you not, for once, just give me a simple answer?”

  He was silent for a long beat. “Some answers aren’t simple. Some answers do not even make any sense. And some questions have no answers.”

  I bit back my irritation. “What about the tree? It was … bleeding.”

  “I believe the taint altered it and gave it living flesh. I heard a heartbeat. It gave the tree life but kept it rooted to the ground and then slowly poisoned it. It seems that Oblivion infects different creatures in different ways.”

  The naked creatures had been covered in a map of black veins. Infected too, it seemed. “Can that happen to us? Can we become infected?”

  “I don’t know, but we will fight the taint together.”

  Together. If only Veles could be here. He was a master of the forest, a champion able to best horrors. I’d lain wrapped in his arms with his breath on my neck not too long ago, and yet it felt like forever since I’d inhaled his scent.

  I’d submitted to his tongue on my skin when he’d marked me to keep me safe, wantonly accepted his mouth on mine when he’d almost claimed me up against a tree. My breath quickened at the memory, and the pulse at the apex of my thighs throbbed.

  The Raven tucked in his chin, his dark eyes reflecting the flames to our right. “You miss him …” His smile was knowing.

  I lowered my lids. “It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

  “It matters, Wynter.” There was strange sadness in his tone, and I glanced up, expecting to see the downturn of his lips but instead found an aching smile. “You will sleep, and when you wake, you will be refreshed. No one said this journey would be easy, did they? Hmmm?”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled his sweet breath. “Easy for you to say; you have feathers to help you rise above it all, and they keep you warm.”

  His hand was on my shoulder as he hugged me close, and his thumb made lazy circles over the fabric of my cloak. “I have feathers so that I may be your eyes.” He brushed his lips across my temple. “And at this moment, I have a body that is willing to share its warmth with you.”

  Was that a rasp to his tone? A new kind of heat flared to life within me, and I pulled back a little.

  “Oh, little one,” the Raven said. “So much restraint and so many doubts. I have seen you with Veles, and I have felt the battle of desire waged in your heart and body. Your mortal mind is entangled in mortal rules and conventions, and yet your soul is divine. Here, in this world, we take what we need … as long as it is offered willingly.”

  His lips grazed my temple again, sending a shudder through me.

  “Do you want my heat? Do you want my skin against yours? You may close your eyes and pretend I’m someone else—Finn or Veles, or whomever you wish. I can warm your blood and bring a flush to your cheeks. Let me serve you as I have always done.”

  His hand skimmed up my side, tentative, pausing just below my breast, waiting for permission. My body throbbed with the urge to give it, but even as it thrummed and grew tight, even as his words sank into my skin and the primal part of me begged for release, my subconscious mind grasped onto the edge of sorrow in his voice, and my heart asserted itself over my libido to listen, really listen to him.

  Sorrow, resignation, and despondency laced his words. Words that spoke of eons of being a shadow. They resonated, reminding me of my yearning for Finn when I’d been on the sidelines looking in.

  I opened my eyes and pulled back to look up into his hawkish face. “No, Raven. You don’t have to serve me. I need a friend. A companion. I need a mental distraction from the cruel elements and our impossible quest.”

  He scanned my face, confused.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the sudden vulnerability in his eyes. “Tell me a story. Tell me about … the Raven.”

  His brow furrowed. “About me?” There was genuine surprise in his tone. “You want to know about me?”

  “You’re acting as if no one has ever asked you that question.” And even as I said it, I knew it to be true.

  His wicked mouth softened, and he lay back, taking me with him so I was pillowed on his shoulder. “My story …”

 
“Yes.” I snuggled closer in a way that felt natural, as if we’d done it many times before, and who knew, maybe we had. He was Morrigan’s advisor and I was born of Morrigan’s soul.

  He was mine.

  A lance of possession shot through me, stealing my breath.

  His grip on me tightened. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Just impatient for the tale.”

  He sighed. “I think … I think there was a time when I was a boy. I remember … I remember the aroma of herbs and baking bread and the scent of roses wrapped in an embrace. I recall a lullaby—just the melody, not the words. I was safe once …” He trailed off into silence, as if slipping into his memories, and I allowed him the moment, my pulse fluttering on his behalf.

  How long had it been since he’d thought about himself?

  “There was death then.” His words were flat. “I can’t … can’t recall how I died. One moment there was sunshine and a rainbow, glorious as it arched overhead, and the next there was darkness and pain, but there was also a voice.” There was a smile in his tone. “Morrigan had brought me back. Pulled me from the darkness and remade me. She saved me by binding me to her and gave me the gift of flight. I became her eyes and her ears, and …”

  “And?”

  He turned his head to brush my temple with his lips. “Anything else she wanted me to be. I was hers, body and soul, and now I belong to you.”

  Something inside me lurched and my hand came up to press against his side, sliding over his waist as if of its own volition to settle on his pectoral. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

  “It’s been so long.” His tone was low, and thick with desire.

  My pulse was pounding at the apex of my thighs and some hidden, unknown part of me commanded me to take him. To take what he offered me willingly, but this wasn’t who I was, and this was no way for him to live. Under obligation. Trapped to do another’s bidding. No. This wasn’t right. Instead, I sat up and looked down on him.