He didn't slow down. He stepped even closer, his heavy weight pinning her against the cool mist of the air. She could feel his length pressing hard and insistent against the small of her back.
"Still thinking about the dirt, Margaery?" he whispered, his fingers moving inside her with a slow, agonizing rhythm that made her knees tremble.
"No," she choked out, her fingers reaching back to grip his hair, pulling him closer. Every thought of her grandmother, the Tyrell lords, and highborn decorum was vanishing. "No... I Just... ."
Alaric let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through her entire body. He withdrew his hand, but before she could complain, he gripped her waist with both hands and turned her around. He lifted her easily, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he backed her toward a smooth, moss-covered boulder at the water's edge.
...
The wind howled outside the broken stone tower. Snow blew in through the missing roof, covering the damp floor in a thin layer of white.
Dae sat cross-legged on a large, flat rock in the center of the room. He wore a plain, dark tunic. He looked like an ordinary servant, but he didn't shiver in the freezing air. He just sat quietly, breathing in the cold wind. Since the red comet appeared and the magic returned to the world, the air tasted sweet to him. It made his blood hum with energy.
A few feet away, Ramsay Bolton hung by his wrists from heavy iron chains.
Ramsay was a mess. His clothes were torn into rags. His bare chest, arms, and legs were covered in shallow, precise cuts. They were the exact kind of cuts Ramsay used to give his own prisoners. Blood dripped slowly from his toes, leaving dark spots in the snow.
Dae held a small, sharp skinning knife. He turned it over in his hands, watching the pale winter light catch the steel.
"You disappointed me today, Ramsay," Dae said. His voice was polite and calm, like a teacher talking to a lazy student. "You only made it two miles into the Wolfswood before I caught you. You didn't even try to hide your tracks."
Ramsay coughed. A thick glob of blood hit the floor. He lifted his head, his face bruised and swollen. "Screw... you," he wheezed.
Dae smiled. He put the knife down on the rock, stood up, and walked over to the chains. He pressed his bare hand flat against Ramsay's bleeding chest.
Black smoke curled from Dae's fingers. The magic pushed into Ramsay's skin. The cuts and deep wounds slowly pulled themselves back together, closing up with a nasty, wet sound. It wasn't a kind healing. It forced the muscles and nerves to snap back into place violently.
Ramsay threw his head back and screamed. His body thrashed against the iron chains until the healing was done. When Dae stepped back, Ramsay was gasping for air, whole again but completely exhausted.
"My Lord gave me very clear orders," Dae explained, dusting off his hands. He walked back and sat cross-legged on his rock. "you like to hunt people in the woods. I must give you the exact same treatment. But, I cannot let you die."
Dae picked up the knife again. "So, we will play the game again tomorrow morning. I will unchain you. I will give you a ten-minute head start. If I catch you, I take another piece of skin. You had better run much faster tomorrow."
A loud, pathetic whimper came from the dark corner of the room.
Theon Greyjoy sat huddled on the floor, his knees pulled tight to his chest. He was wrapped in a dirty fur cloak, staring at Dae with wide, terrified eyes. He had been watching the torture for days. His spirit was completely broken.
Dae turned his head and looked at the corner. "Stop crying, squid. It is annoying."
Theon flinched. He slapped both hands over his own mouth, breathing heavily through his nose to keep quiet.
"We are leaving this awful cold soon," Dae said. He wiped the edge of the skinning knife on his pant leg. "going to the western coast. You are going to find us a ship, We are going home to Pyke."
Theon shook his head quickly. He pulled his hands away from his mouth. "No," he whispered, his voice shaking. "My... my father will kill me. I I am a failure. He won't let me in the castle."
"Your father is an old fool," Dae said simply. "My scouts tell me Tywin Lannister sent him a letter. The old lion wants the Iron Fleet to attack the North. But we are not going to do that."
Dae leaned forward. His dark eyes locked onto Theon. The demon's presence pressed down on the room, making the air feel heavy and hard to breathe.
"You are the rightful heir," Dae said, his voice dropping to a smooth, dangerous whisper. "You are going to walk right into the Great Keep at Pyke. When your father yells at you, I will be standing right behind you in the shadows."
Theon swallowed hard, unable to look away.
"My magic is very strong now," Dae continued. "I will crack your father's mind. I will break the minds of his ship captains. They will look at you and see their new, strong King. They will do whatever you say."