But I might be able to get some sleep and survive this marriage if we were just lying beside each other with a little space in between.

At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself as I settled in for a very, very long night.

15CHERRY

There was some sleepy confusion before I opened my eyes. Because outside of my closed eyelids was a bright, warm light. Nothing like the wimpy sunlight of Terratribe I and certainly not like the artificial lighting of Elora Station. I kept my eyes closed for a long while, just enjoying the bask of it across my face. The gentle heat that poured over me, syrupy sweet.

Heat.

That triggered a memory of last night. Of Silar dutifully slogging back in here with me to warm me up after dark. I could barely remember being here in the bed with him, I’d fallen asleep so fast.

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly I’d passed out on him. But it had been a long, tiring day. I’d finished my trek across the cosmos, gotten married, then taken a multi-hour-long horse ride back here. Now that I thought about it, my ass and legs were pretty tender from the journey.

It was obvious, even without moving or opening my eyes, that Silar was no longer in the bed with me. The heat I was currently experiencing wasn’t the delicious solidity of his body, but something more dispersed and atmospheric. A sudden crackle-pop sound had my eyes flying open and I sat up.

The bedroom door was open, and I could see into the kitchen. A wood fire in the great oven was burning merrily, and there were loads of new lumber piled up on the floor, ready to be used. My heart turned to goo at the thought of Silar getting up early and adding “collect wood for my chilly-willy wife” to his list of morning chores.

Then that goo turned to lead when I realized it was probably because he didn’t want to be responsible for warming me up in bed.

I sighed and wiggled my butt forward out of the bed, stepping into my boots as I stood. My motion knocked something to the floor. Seeing that it was Silar’s wife instruction manual, I blushed and snatched it up. It felt weird to leave it in the bed now that I was sleeping here, so I chucked it into the mostly-empty top drawer in the dresser.

Silar’s hat was gone from the top of the dresser. Mine remained. I’d need it today, if the sun spilling in through the bedroom was anything to go by. I hope his ears are better… I’d have to coax him back into the chair to have a look later.

A quick survey of the kitchen, storage areas, and cellar told me Silar wasn’t in the house, nor was he visible from the porch. Figuring that he was probably out dealing with the animals or mending fences, I set about deciding just what it was that I was going to do today. After catching a whiff of myself, I grimaced and decided that number one on the agenda was figuring out the bath situation.

I tracked down the laundry tub Silar had mentioned, a squat wooden half-barrel that would just barely allow me to sit in there with my knees drawn up to my chest. I placed it in the kitchen as near to the oven as I could, hustled outside for the hose, brought the hose inside and placed it in the tub, then went back out to turn on the tap. I ran to the door to keep my eye on the water, and when the tub seemed like it would be just full enough that I wouldn’t send all the water sloshing out with my body, I turned off the tap and went back in. A quick check of the window above the kitchen sink told me that Silar wasn’t on his way back here to catch me naked in the kitchen, so I stripped out of my pyjamas, panties, and boots, resolving to give the garments a wash in the tub when I was finished bathing.

Even though we were married and had spent the night beside each other in bed, the thought of Silar happening upon me while naked made nerves snatch uncomfortably in my belly. Hastily, I stepped into the water without letting the fire warm it properly. I cawed at the frigid shock of it, then reminded myself that Lake New Nipissing would be much colder as I resolutely sat down and started scrubbing.

I’d only just managed to get the full length of my hair soaked in water, scraping it awkwardly back from my face, when the rapid-fire thunder of heavy boots hitting the porch forced my heart up into my throat. There was no time to get out, no time to hide myself as the back door slammed open and Silar barrelled in.

His eyes were bright white. When they fastened on me, they only got brighter.

“Silar!” I squawked indignantly, drawing my knees up closer to my chest and glaring at him, fully aware of how he hadn’t done anything wrong here. This was the fucking kitchen. I hadn’t warned him I’d be using it. But I couldn’t help the shivery creep of colour up my neck and into my cheeks.

“I heard you scream.”

“I… I didn’t scream!” I retorted, snaking one arm out of the tub to grab at my pyjama top. “I gave a very dignified, lady-like yelp!”

“Why? What happened?” He came further into the room with the force of a storm, all that quiet energy crackling and threatening to explode, the lightning-like veins of his eyes completely swallowed by the blinding white glow.

“Because the water is cold, that’s why! I didn’t let it heat up enough!”

“The water?” He only now seemed to register what I was doing in the tub. He jolted, then went stone-still as he registered my nakedness.

Not naked for long, though. I managed to get my arms into the sleeves of the pyjama top, snapped its sides closed over my front, then shakily stood, water pouring off me. The silky top was fairly long. It covered my ass and crotch, at least. But my weird method of dressing had soaked a lot of the fabric, and as I lurched out of the tub and stepped onto the floor, I was fully aware of how hard my nipples were, poking through the now-transparent garment.

Silar was obviously aware, too, his heated white gaze glued to my tits.

And, as if his hands couldn’t help but follow his eyes, he made a choked sound low in his throat, closed the space between us, and pressed his rough, warm palms against my breasts.

16SILAR

Perhaps in my panic I was too forceful, because Cherry gasped and stumbled backwards at the pressure I applied. Her back bumped the wall, and I closed her in, massaging the soft mounds of her chest, half-blind with terror. I’d read about this in the book. Frost… Frost tooth? Frost claw? Frost something. When the tip of a human extremity gets so cold that it becomes frozen and hard and the tissue dies.

This part of Cherry had not been hard before this morning. I would have noticed. She’d been submerged up to her chest in that cold water and now the ends of her udders were about to fall off and it was all my fault.

Even what I was doing now – trying to warm her flesh and restore healthy blood flow – was not working. If anything, these frost-toothed spots were only getting harder!

You fool. There is a fire right beside you!

Ignoring Cherry’s screech of surprise, I swiftly spun her so that her back was to my chest, her front to the fire. I ripped the cold, damp fabric away from her skin and gripped her soft mounds, aiming the hard points towards the warmth of the fire.

While Cherry had been momentarily still when I’d first touched her – perhaps going into some sort of paralytic shock from the pain – she seemed to have regained full use of all her strength and faculties. She swatted fiercely at my hands.

“What are you doing?!” she cried. She tried to look back at me but only succeeded in slapping me in the face with the long, wet serpent of her hair.

“I am trying to get you warm,” I told her through gritted fangs. “If we can restore heat and blood flow quickly enough, the frost tooth should not cause any permanent damage.”