Chapter 9
9
“ W ill there be anything else?” Thorne Noctus asked.
The prince lifted the heavy pouch from the table and dumped it onto the tax ledger. “I assume everything is here?”
“Assume away,” Thorne answered with a curt nod.
The prince gritted his teeth. “Then you’re dismissed.”
“Good day, Your Grace.”
My small bow was nearly imperceptible as my pretend husband tightened his grip and led me off the street, his gait so long and quick I had to run to keep up with him. I tried to fight free of his grasp, but I couldn’t even manage that.
“Let go of me.”
Sandwiched between two buildings, out of earshot of the crowd and the lurking Cimmerians, we continued to run until Thorne slammed to a halt and I nearly crashed into him.
“Seriously, let go.” I yanked until he finally did.
“I think you mean, ?thank you.’” His chest heaved, as did a thick, protruding vein on his neck. “What the hell were you thinking, going in there without a plan?”
I blinked slowly, my brain running, my mouth hardly keeping up. “You… If you… What choice…” I began to pace, though the alley was only about five steps wide. “I didn’t…”
The brute reached out and grabbed my arm. “If walking and talking at the same time are difficult for you, try standing still.”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“If walking and?—”
“I swear to every god in Etherium, if you finish that sentence, I will?—”
He slammed a hand over my mouth, shoving me backward until I was pinned to the wall, then leaned over, practically trembling as he whispered in my ear. “Never, ever swear to every god. Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“You just told the prince we’re married, and you don’t even know me. If I’ve lost my mind, then you’ve completely lost touch with reality,” I mumbled against his hand.
Thorne’s eyes narrowed, his breath hot on my skin. “I saved your ass, didn’t I? You were seconds away from going back to The Maw.”
I wrenched my head to the side. “Saved me? You’re delusional.”
He pressed harder against me, his voice a low growl. “What was your plan, huh? Did you swing by home, change into this dress, and grab some coin? I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen you. Which means you’re a Salt, and even then, I’m not certain you’re from the city.” He leaned in until his nose brushed mine. “I would remember these eyes. It’s foolish to pretend to be a Silk. Everyone knows that.”
I hated that I couldn’t answer. My heart pounded in my chest, my own anger boiling over. I shoved him, but he didn’t budge an inch. “Why?”
His cold eyes, a swirling mass of green and brown, grew. “Why what?”
“I didn’t ask for your help. Why did you…” I couldn’t speak the words, so instead, I gestured back toward the street.
“Claim you?”
“I’m not a fucking broodmare.”
His dark brown hair fell across his face as he glared down at me through the round frame of his glasses, shoulders heaving as if he could hardly contain his own anger. “Because apparently we’re both fools. Now let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are. In the eyes of our kingdom, you’re married to me. Which means you do as I say.”
I bared my teeth, standing on the tips of my toes to get closer to his frustratingly handsome face. “There’s not a man in this universe that I will ever answer to.”
“Oh, I think there is, wife.”
Fiery, hot anger surged through me. I could have handled it. I would have found a way to trick the prince and be on my way. It’s what I always did. I was a survivor. I’d been a survivor my whole godsdamned life. “Call me that one more time.”
He smirked, leaning until our foreheads touched, even though I was still on my tiptoes. “As you wish, wife .”
I brought a swift knee up, smashing him between the legs. As he doubled over, I used the palm of my hand and jammed it into his nose. “Consider this our formal separation.”
As I completed my sentence, a hefty body filled the space at the other end of the alley. A damn Cimmerian stood tall and broad and every bit as ominous as they’d always been.
Thorne grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to the wall, shoving himself against me as he leaned down, murmuring in my ear, “Don’t do anything foolish.” He slid his fingers under my hood, gripping my face as he leaned so close anyone passing might’ve thought we were kissing.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Jury’s still out on that.”
“I’m going to make your life a living hell,” I promised.
“Shh,” he hissed as the Cimmerian approached, his black robes billowing, so dark they nearly engulfed the silver emblem on his chest.
Nothing could hide the metal mask though, no matter how far forward his hood sat. The menacing face of anonymity was burned into my memory. This was the guard that held me by the throat in an alley. This was the guard that beat me with a whip until I couldn’t endure the pain. This was the guard that ended Atticus’s life. They were all the same. Even if I’d seen Thorne’s wrath upon their fallen bodies. The masks made them one. One authority. One evil.
I couldn’t help the way my body responded to the proximity of the guard. Couldn’t fight the tremble, nor the short, stunted breaths.
Thorne’s massive fingers slid behind my neck as he gripped my hair and forced my head back until I looked into his eyes. “I’ll fight with you later. I need you to focus. Don’t lose your grit. You’re safe as long as I’m here. I promise.”
“And what’s going on here?” The Cimmerian asked, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the alleyway.
“What business is it of yours?” The hint of defiance in Thorne’s tone, the challenge to authority, was unmistakable.
“By order of the prince, answer the question.”
Thorne turned, his hold on me never wavering as he faced off with the Cimmerian. “The prince or the king? Who’s ruling Stirling these days? Don’t you have a certain crime lord to find? The one that’s stealing from the entire city?”
“It’s Tithe. You’re to report for payment immediately.”
“Go ask your prince, or better yet, the king you’re supposed to serve for my information. Mine and my wife’s taxes are paid.”
I blanched at the ease of that word slipping from his mouth, and those fingers only tightened on me. Prick.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“As are you,” Thorne growled, staring down at the Cimmerian. “You stand here and pretend you don’t know exactly who I am. Run along to your master and tell him I hurt your feelings. I can promise you, as long as he’s getting a cut of my business, he doesn’t give a fuck about them.”
“I know exactly who you are, Thorne Noctus, but the prince would like to know who your wife is. Stand aside so I can get a better look at her.”
He moved then, finally dropping his hand as he placed himself directly between the guard and me.
“How’s the view now?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
I panicked. So close to the crowd of people, so close to the prince and a horde of other guards. If a fight broke out, if the Cimmerian called for help, neither of us would leave this damp alley. I really needed him to shut the hell up and do what he was told, but there was a baser part of me that needed the safety he promised. Needed someone to protect me so I could compose myself.
The guard’s masked gaze flickered past Thorne towards me before he let out a low growl of frustration. “Thorne Noctus, you’re obstructing justice. Step aside.”
“Justice?” Thorne laughed, a dry and humorless sound that echoed through the alleyway as I stared at the back of his broad shoulders, wondering if either of them would notice if I fled. “Whatever your master’s goal is, it’s certainly not justice. Let’s call it greed.”
“Problem here?”
My mouth went dry as two more guards approached, both with hands clenched into fists. Another three came from the other end of the alley, boxing us in.
“Step aside,” the first crooned, knowing he was about to win this battle.
It seemed to take ages for Thorne to see reason. His giant ego must’ve stunted the function of his brain. What could he have possibly done in this situation other than acquiesce? As if it were some sort of pissing match between him and the guards, he didn’t step off to the side, but rather he stepped back, gripping my hand in his fiercely.
Two of them inched closer as the original one reached forward, his gloved fingers grabbing my chin. Thorne’s hold tightened, but he said no more.
“A woman has escaped the Maw. They say she used to be beautiful, before my brothers got ahold of her.” He turned my face, studying it. “Red hair and green eyes. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Though terrified, I forced myself to remember who I was. What I was. Not the woman beaten into submission, but the Huntress. A descendant of a powerful god and a woman that’d already known the lowest of low. I’d killed a man only days ago. I would not be afraid.
I pushed his hand away, my own steady and unyielding. My words followed suit in a whip of steel. “I don’t know who you’re looking for, but it certainly isn’t me. And I’ll thank you to keep your damn hands off me.” As his eyes widened in surprise, I reached up and removed my hood, revealing my hair. “It might hold a faint red hue under certain lights, but it’s unmistakably brown. And I think the eyes speak for themselves.”
The guards looked among themselves, their masked faces concealing any trace of emotions, while their predatory aura began to wane. I held their gaze, daring them to contradict me, though I had no clue what we would do if they did.
“Now,” I continued, my voice ringing clear and assertive in the stifling silence, “I’ve had quite enough of this. It’s far too cold to be arguing over nothing in an alley.” I pulled on Thorne’s fingers, locked with mine. “Shall we, darling? I don’t want to be late for lunch again. You know how much she hates that.”
I didn’t miss the way his thumb brushed over mine, an act as I slipped into the role he’d commanded of me so effortlessly. It took every bit of effort not to pull away from him. He lifted a brow toward the closest Cimmerian, who hesitated for only a second longer before stepping to the side.
We were down the alley, around the corner, and out of sight of the guards within a minute. I promptly jerked my hand out of the giant brute’s grip. “What the hell were you thinking? Picking a fight? We needed no attention, and you might as well have put us in a spotlight.”
“If I recall,” he said with a growl. “You’re the one that assaulted me and sparked their interest in the first place.”
“Did you just fucking growl at me?”
He snatched the clasp of my— his cloak and dragged me forward until I was on my tiptoes, glaring up at him. “We need to let the dust settle around here on Tithe. Stop arguing with me and let’s go.”
I scoffed. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Get your hands off me.”
He let go. But didn’t pull away. “Don’t you see what’s happening? The prince is already hunting you. You want to face that alone?”
“I’m not alone!”
“Then go home,” he said with a smirk. “I hope you don’t mind if I follow. To make sure you get there safely.”
“I’m perfectly cap?—”
“I’ll tolerate a lot, Paesha darling, but don’t you dare lie to me. You’re not from here and it’s obvious. You probably came south to Stirling from Roundstone or Holland, but I’m telling you, with Farris’s attention on you, there’s nowhere you can go on your own that’s going to be safe.”
I lifted my hood back up to stave off the icy breeze circling my neck. “Why do you care, anyway?”
He held a hand out to me. “Because we’re married now. And you either come with, or you end up back in the Maw. Your choice, darling.”