True North [True North series book 1/3]

A crimson red spread onto my cheeks as I feverishly tried to come up with something to say or do.

“How did you get here?” the male asked again, emphasizing his words.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, “I just… was pulled into puddle?”

The male stepped closer to me, and I recoiled. He held out the cup, and I reluctantly took it. The cup was too hot for me to touch for longer than a moment, so I used my sleeves to cover my hands, and savored the heat spreading through the leather.

“Tell me about the gateway,” the male said, sitting down on a chair on the other side of the stove.

“Gateway?” I echoed confusedly.

“The… puddle,” he clarified, flicking his hand in my direction annoyedly. “Tell me about it.”

I shifted in my seat, resting the cup on my knees.

“It looked… like a mirror. I touched the surface, and was sucked inside somehow. The liquid turned to water as I swam deeper, and suddenly, there was a light. I swam toward it, and ended up… here.”

I raised my head slightly and looked around. The tent was almost identical to the first one I had been in, except there was a bed in the far right corner.

I glanced at the male across from me, careful not to make eye contact. “Where is ‘here’, if I may ask?”

The male put his feet onto a stool and leaned back. “Ardanis,” he said plainly.

“And you’re a royal?” I tried, pushing my luck.

“I am,” the male confirmed, “Thoridor Kalendir. Heir to the throne.”

My breath hitched in my throat. I flicked my eyes up to his face again —just to get another glimpse of him— and immediately averted them again as I met his.

“Who are you?” Thoridor demanded.

“Serin Eloweth,” I mustered. I picked up the cup again, as its heat was now burning my knees. “Do you happen to know how I can go back?”

Thoridor scoffed. “You would have to find another gateway,” he said, sounding bored. “Only one opens up at a time — a portal, joining our worlds together until something passes through. It could appear anywhere, at any time, and closes back up immediately after it’s been used. You used up ours.”

I furrowed my brows. “Used up?” I repeated, “so I can’t go back the way I came?”

I felt Thoridor’s eyes burn into me as I tried my hardest to look at anything but him.

“How come you speak our language?” Thoridor asked, ignoring my question.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “It’s just like I’m speaking my mother tongue. The words just seem to come out differently.”

He studied my face as he gestured to the cup again.

“Drink,” he commanded. I looked down at the cup. Tendrils of steam rose up from the burgundy liquid that seemed to be swirling inside.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Drink,” Thoridor simply said again, and as if guided by invisible hands, I brought the cup to my mouth.

The liquid tasted savory, briny, almost metallic — “Is this blood?!” I yelled out in disgust.

Thoridor rose to his feet and was at my side in the blink of an eye, his gloved hand wrapped around my throat.

“You’d do well remembering who you’re speaking to, human,” he hissed, “now drink.”

My eyes watered as I brought the cup to my lips again, nipping at it’s contents. It didn’t actually taste like blood — not just blood, at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of the ingredients, though.

Thoridor released the hold he had on my throat slightly, but stayed at my side until I had drained the cup completely. He then snatched it from my hands and took it back to the stove.

I tried to come up with a way to address Thoridor respectfully. “Sire —your highness— excuse me, what should I call you?” I asked.

“Thoridor is fine for now,” Thoridor snarled, his back still turned to me. “Sire when in the presence of others.”

I straightened my back. “Thoridor, Sire, respectfully, I need to return home,” I pleaded, “my little brother is gravely ill, and he will need me to come tend to him soon. I promised him I’d be back before he’d miss me.”

Thoridor put the cup down. “There is no way to return without a gateway,” he stated lowly, “you closed it when you passed through. You would need to find another, pass through it, and travel back to your home from where ever you may end up.”

“How do I find another?” I asked, feeling a small surge of hope rush through my chest.

Thoridor turned back around to face me. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he rumbled, “the gateway you used was the second one I have come across in all of my life.”

My jaw dropped in shock. I studied Thoridor’s face, completely forgetting about the no-eye-contact rule.

“How old are you?” I breathed. Thoridor stared right back into my eyes, making me quickly turn away again.

“I do not know how to answer that in a way that would make sense to you,” he said slowly. “We are nearing the end of our bright period,” he continued.

“The dark period lasts about three times as long as the bright period does. I was born over three hundred cycles ago.”

I gasped. “Three hundred?!” I repeated. “A cycle — does that mean a year? I mean, a lap around the sun?”

Thoridor waved away my question. “Your sun isn’t my sun,” he said dismissively, his tone growing increasingly annoyed.

“It’s time to rest now,” he rumbled, approaching the bed in the corner of the room. I rose to my feet.

“What am I to do?” I asked, “should I return to the other tent?”

Thoridor lay down on his bed. “They will not house you tonight,” he said stiffly. “You are expected to spend the night in here.”

“I can’t,” I objected, “I’m an unmarried woman. I cannot spend the night with a male. Not without a chaperone.”

Thoridor raised an eyebrow. “How am I to bed you with a chaperone around?” he asked, a joyless smile around his lips.

My heart sank. Bed me?! I strode backward, bumped into a chest and tumbled back, hitting my head on the wooden log wall. Thoridor lifted his head off his pillow to look at me.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffed, “I’d rather stick my head into the fire than bed a human.”

I scrambled back to my feet, with a ringing in my ears.

“So may I leave then?” I pleaded. “Suit yourself,” Thoridor snarled, turning his back to me. “But the Ku’lan you met earlier, is nocturnal. So is my Nioph. They will both appreciate an easy dinner.”

My shoulders slumped. “I need to get back to my brothers…” I mumbled defeatedly, “Tophyn needs his medicine. They will be so worried if I don’t return before nightfall.”

“So leave,” Thoridor hissed, “go find a way back to them. No one is making you stay here.”