Mountains Made of Glass by Scarlett St. Clair

Author:Scarlett St. Clair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2023-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

A Daring Rescue

I did not know what to do when my creature placed her head against my chest and began to cry, but her tears were like knives, tearing at my heart, feeding a desire to avenge her pain. I was not used to these feelings, mine or hers.

Bewildered, I looked at the raven, who circled his wings before him.

“What?” I mouthed.

The raven stretched his wings and repeated the movement.

I shrugged, confused.

“Comfort her, you idiot!” the raven said in a half whisper.

I let my magic recede and dropped the selkie’s head to place my arm around her, but before I could, she pushed away.

“I hate this place,” she said, glaring at me. I felt the full force of her fury as if she had slapped me. “I hate you.”

“I told you not to return,” I said. My body grew hot, my hands tightening in the selkie’s sealskin. She had no right to rage at me. She was here because she killed my brother, and she was here now because she had ignored my warning. “I told you he was dangerous.”

“As if you are any better,” she spat.

“Oh, vicious creature, you do not want me to be better. I am the only thing that can protect you here.”

Her gaze fell to the sealskin in my hand, and then her eyes shifted to the selkie’s head, which looked up at her from the ground.

Her eyes still glistened with unshed tears, like emeralds shining in the earth. I hated that I had missed the chance to take her into my arms. No doubt I would hear about it later from the mirror, who was likely watching this exchange with Naeve.

The raven was right. I was an idiot.

And now she hated me, though I supposed she’d never stopped.

I studied her, noticing the blood on her dress.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, uncertain if she had just brushed against the selkie’s bloodied head, but then I noticed how she held her hand in her dress. I took a step forward, discarding the selkie’s skin. “Let me see your hand.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking a step back.

“Let me see it,” I said, the words slow and deliberate. Something in my voice must have convinced her to obey because she lifted her bloodied hand to show her missing finger. “Where is it? Your finger?”

“The mountains took it,” she said.

“The mountains have your blood?”

“I could not resist,” she said.

“Because you bargained with them,” I seethed. “Foolish creature! What did you trade?”

She was quiet.

“Creature,” I warned, the word slipping between my teeth.

She did not look at me as she answered. “Three strands of your hair.”

“Three strands?”

Her gaze met mine. “I only had one. The other two must have belonged to your mistress.”

“Or a brother,” I snapped.

Her mouth tightened. “This is your fault! I would not have traded anything if I had not wished to guess your true name!”

“No one told you to bargain with the mountains!”

“He did!” she said, pointing to the selkie’s head.

“He wanted to kill me!” I yelled, kicking the head, sending it soaring into the surrounding woods.

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