A Hint of Frost: Araneae Nation ( Book One) (4 page)

If my heart hadn’t clogged my throat, I might have screamed for guards. Though what I would have said remained a mystery.
Help
,
my partisan wishes to bed me
? They would laugh at my naiveté. Grinding my teeth, I reminded myself they obeyed Rhys over me. Help wasn’t coming unless he called for it. Anger gave me strength to step from his reach on steady legs.

“I’m flattered, but I’ve work to do.”

He stood between me and the door. “I’m coming with you.”

“I thought that might be your answer.” I waved him on. “Come on, then. We should hurry. The spinning rooms were closed for the ceremony this morning, and they’ll be eager to begin work.”

“I admire their dedication.” He sounded surprised there was work to be done on this day.

I gave him a look. “You saw…my parents. Death shrouds are handwoven.”

His eyes widened in comprehension.

“Yes.” My spirit bowed under the burden. “We have many dead, and this is the last honor we can bestow upon them.”

His hand was a comfortable weight on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Pain swelled my throat closed, so I nodded and passed through the door.

Once down the hall, we entered a sprawling great room. In the far corner, a fire crackled and hissed. Small stools ringed a center seat where our youth gathered for story time in winter. Several chairs lined the walls, along with bookcases and other forms of entertainment.

This was the heart of our clan home, and it beat with the lives of our people.

“This is the great room, the center of our nest.” I indicated a series of low doorways. “Those lead to the spinning rooms, the nurseries, the council chamber and all other common rooms. They’re a bit of a walk, but individual clan homes fan from this central hub. They’re connected by underground tunnels to this room, where we gather in the evenings.”

“Interesting.” He lifted a book, and the spine he stroked might as well have been mine.

As he set it aside, I shivered and asked, “Is the Mimetidae clan home much like this?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” He took a step, as though curiosity had compelled him forward, before he caught himself and waited for me.

I tried to see the space as he would, but all I saw was home. “Is your nest so different?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, only stared at the floor as though he were lost in thought.

I touched his arm and was rewarded with a sizzle beneath my skin. He jerked as if he’d felt it too.
It must be the venom
. “You can wait here if you like. I’m sure you’ll find spinning tedious.” I gave him an easy way out. “Guests often find it monotonous, so I understand if—”

“You love it.” He scanned my face. “Don’t deprecate what you’re passionate about.”

“I’m Araneidae,” I said by way of explanation. “It’s all I know.”

“Your face lit up when you mentioned it.” He trailed his fingertips across my cheeks. “That’s more than duty, that’s dedication, pride.” His voice rang with approval, and the tightness in my chest eased. “I’m going to watch you work.” He made it a statement of fact. “I need to learn your home so I can better protect you within it.” His expression turned regretful. “I’ll also need to see your parents’ rooms as soon as possible. I doubt any evidence survived, but I’ll still want to do an inspection.”

“I wondered when you’d get around to asking.” I rubbed my hands together, a nervous habit learned from a lifetime of staving off the winter’s chill. “The room’s been sealed since…” My chest ached. “I sealed it last night.”

“You did well.” He took my hands in his, stared at them. “Few would have thought of it.”

“I knew what had been done. Her hand—”

He pressed a broad finger to my lips. “We’ll not speak of this here.” His gaze cut to either side of the room. Seeming satisfied, he bent to my ear. “Does anyone know of our arrangement?”

I shook my head no. There was only him and me and Isolde in on my suspicions.

“Good.” His nearness intoxicated me, left me lightheaded long after he’d withdrawn. “Let’s get you to the spinning room.”

Once he took my arm, he must have realized he didn’t know the way. He hung back and let me take the lead. We didn’t have to go far. As we walked, I was struck by how well my arm fit in his, as if his elbow had been notched with me in mind. My steps slowed as we reached the spinning room. How potent his venom was to numb today’s horrors with a prick of his fangs.

Or maybe that wasn’t right. Perhaps not the venom itself, but the male it attached me to. I drew on his strength, eager to share some part of my burden and grateful our bond allowed for it.

If that were the reason I could walk and talk as though I weren’t shattered, terrified and more intrigued than I had any right to be for a male I shouldn’t want, then I wished I could share his soothing effect with others. Except the thought of sharing Rhys twisted my gut into knots.

Nudging him aside, I cracked the door, bracing myself as delighted squeals enfolded us.

Before I could blink, my youngest brother crashed into me. I would have fallen if not for Rhys. I expected annoyance at Channing’s exuberance, but Rhys held a steadying hand at my back.

“Lori, Lori, Lori.” Channing grabbed my shirt and climbed until he sat upon my hip. Bless his child’s heart. His nursemaid hadn’t broken the news to him about our parents yet.

“Oomph.” As I adjusted his weight, I was saddened to realize he would outgrow me all too soon. “Are you sure you don’t weigh more today than yesterday?” I kissed his round cheek.

“Nah-uh.” He squirmed, peering over my shoulder owlishly until I turned. “Who’s that?”

“I’m Rhys.” Rhys stuck out his hand, and my brother bounced all the harder as he took it.

“I’m Channing. Lori is my big sister. I have another sister. Her name’s Pascale. She cries a lot. Don’t know why. Maybe because I wouldn’t share my licorice with her, but Father said—”

“Hush, Channing.” I slid him down my leg, but he kept hold of Rhys’s hand. I hid my smile when Rhys exhibited the first stirrings of alarm once realizing Channing was stuck to him.

The tyke crawled up his leg, as he’d done to me, and settled himself on Rhys’s hip to better finish their conversation. My partisan’s wide eyes swung toward me, their message clear.
What do I do with him?
A tap on my shoulder dragged my attention from Rhys’s consternation.

“I wondered when you’d return.” My middle brother, Henri, embraced me.

Momentary regret filled me that my family hadn’t been present for the binding ceremony. I would have welcomed their support, but I’d deemed it too dangerous, asking instead that they remain holed up in the nest where they could lose enemies in the crisscrossed tunnels that ran like underground mazes beneath the city. The sanctuary was aboveground and too exposed for my taste. I reasoned if Rhys and my union lasted through the new moon, it would be safe enough they could attend our thread binding then.

“We came as soon as we could.” I flushed once spotting Henri’s impish grin. “Hush to you too.”

“And me? Am I to hush as well?” My oldest brother, Armand, bussed my cheek.

“It depends.” I hit his shoulder, rocking him back. “Can you behave?”

His eyes twinkled, amethyst and arresting. “Never.” He sidestepped me, casting Rhys a calculating glance. “I’ve heard of you, Rhys the Cold. Your reputation precedes you.”

Rhys the Cold
? I arched an eyebrow in his direction, which he ignored. Whenever Isolde visited with Mother, our males had entertained her entourage. No doubt the Mimetidae told tales of their fiercest warriors. But cold? Rhys ran hot as far as I could tell. Still, what did I know of him?

Not much, I admitted. Isolde’s visits were rare. I remembered only a scant few.

Most of her interaction with Mother had come through letters, and never once had Isolde’s paladin or sons entered our city. Theridiidae were too territorial. They viewed any males from rival clans to be a threat, and since they viewed any clan as rivals for their position, they made socializing impossible. Even business appointments, such as armor fittings, had suffered.

Only when Mother grew forlorn had Father withdrawn his guard, allowing Isolde and her warriors passage into our city, where they remained under the watchful eyes of the Theridiidae.

“My reputation is well-earned.” His voice was hard and cold as ice. “Remember that.”

“I don’t doubt it. Your clansmen speak well of you.” Armand paused. “They fear you.”

Rhys gave no reaction. “Mimetidae have no use for such a weak emotion.”

Before Armand responded, Pascale shoved him aside, fitting herself between us.

“That beggared fiend is who you’ve bound yourself to?” Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose runny. “Look at him, baring his teeth and tearing into Armand as if he were a braised shank served at dinner. Oh, I forgot. He’s a
Mimetidae
. He’d sooner eat someone than speak to them.”

I blinked at her. Grief brought out the worst in us all, but her words were poison-laced.

“Has it escaped your notice what we’re gathered here to do?” My voice wavered. “These are shrouds, Pascale, and the bodies that will fill them belong to our clansmen.” I calmed myself. “The Mimetidae are our allies now. They’re our best chance at survival. I’m sorry. It’s done.”

She leaned forward, finger pointing at the level of my nose. “Yesterday—”

“Our world was a different place yesterday.” Armand attempted to let her save face. “The Theridiidae were our allies. Our home was safe. Our people and future secure.” His gaze settled on Rhys with tangible weight. “You owe Rhys an apology, and you owe Lourdes thanks for her sacrifice.”

“She is firstborn,” Pascale spat. “It is her duty.”

Her vehemence crushed the air from my lungs. “What would you have me do?”

“If Mother and Father were still alive—”

Henri clamped his hand across her mouth too late.

“Lori?” I wish I could have ignored the insistent tugs on the back of my shirt, but Channing had heard and there was nothing for it now. He glanced around. “Where is Momma?”

Any other day, she would have been here. This room was her sanctuary and she rarely left it. She had been the only female Araneidae who spun for the nest. Otherwise, our artisans were all male.

“Lori?” Channing’s voice turned insistent, and I had to face him. “Where is Momma?”

The tighter those chubby fingers gripped Rhys’s shirt, the harder Rhys’s jaw clenched. His glare was fixed on Pascale, and his anger was palpable. His teeth scraped and his cheek ticced.

“Come on.” Armand scooped Channing from Rhys’s arms. “Let’s you and I have a sit.”

My shoulders slumped as their footsteps grew lighter. The spinning room was expansive, filled with dozens of workstations manned by spinners, but it was not so large that I would miss the fallout when Armand broke the news to Channing. Instead of blocking my ears, expectation heightened my senses and I didn’t so much as breathe. For long minutes, all was quiet. Then the sound came I’d expected. Channing shrieked once in denial before screaming fervently for Mother.

His pitch turned deafening when he realized she hadn’t come, wasn’t going to come.

Rhys continued to stare at Pascale. “Was your petty grievance worth that child’s tears?”

Her shoulders set back. “It’s only petty to you because you have what you wanted. Your clan is poor, its practices disgusting. Say what you will about the Theridiidae, but they’re merciful killers. Their victims die quickly. Can you say the same? Or does fresh death make you hungry?”

My teeth grated against one another. “That is enough, Pascale.”

“Look at you,” she all but hissed. “You smile at this—this
cannibal
as if you can’t wait for him to sink his teeth in you. It’s disgusting. Are you so depraved you think to enjoy it?”

The crack of my hand across her cheek silenced even Channing.

Her eyes widened in shock that I’d raised a hand to her. I felt mine bulging as well, but I’d had enough. “All our lives have turned upside down. You are not so special that your pain should bleed onto everyone else. We all have our burdens to bear. You will not add to them.”

Before she said another word, before my anger got the better of me, I snapped my fingers at the nearest spinner. He leapt to his feet and grabbed her arm, leading her to the farthest corner.

I started when Rhys’s hands braced on my shoulders and rubbed the tense muscles there.

“Do you have to be here?” His ministrations made me slump against him.
Venom again
.

“It’s my duty to begin each thread.” I gestured where Pascale had stood. “After all this, I’ll be here for several more hours. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for me elsewhere?”

“You’re not leaving my sight.” His hands stilled. “I’ll wait for you here.”

I walked from under his touch and stopped at the first bench with the first spinner. He presented his cheek, and I kissed it as Mother had always done. When he splayed his fingers, I did the same. Tapping mine to his, I triggered his spinnerets to produce. He spun a length of pearl-white silk and lifted it for my inspection.

I patted his shoulder. “Well done. It’s flawless.”

He glowed beneath my praise. “Thank you, Maven.”

I’d repeat this process several times during the hours to come with each of the spinners and then once daily when our production slowed.

My spinnerets contained a special hormone that made males produce more and finer silk. It was the foremost reason, besides birth order, I was uniquely qualified for the job over Armand.

The same reason cemented his future with a female of our clan. While his own unique hormone could trigger a female to produce results similar to mine, only our clan was susceptible.

Despite what Isolde would have me believe, it was the primary reason she aligned with us rather than seize us. She would have understood through her relationship to my mother what the Theridiidae had learned during their cohabitation with us. A happy maven was a productive one, and if she had overthrown my clan or if she had harmed my people, I would
not
have been happy.