Chapter 12
Rhodes leaned down until his face was so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. His dark eyes locked on hers, unbending.
“You’ll not be going anywhere without my permission.”
Fawn’s lips curved, though her heart thudded in her chest. “That’s not likely,” she shot back, her voice sharp enough to cut through the cold.
Two men carrying firewood slowed, then stopped just out of reach, pretending to shift their bundles but their eyes were fixed on the laird and his new wife. A woman drew her child close and hushed him as she lingered nearby.
Rhodes’s jaw tightened. “You forget yourself, wife.”
“I forget nothing,” she countered, chin lifting. “Least of all that I belong to no man’s command. Not even yours.”
More villagers gathered now, cautious but unwilling to miss the clash. Their low murmurs carried like a restless wind, though they kept their distance.
Rhodes’s eyes darkened. “Your beasts will not come before me. Not your wolves, not your strays. Your place is here, tending to me and the clan.”
Fawn’s eyes blazed, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “That is not for you to decide. I will never be an obedient wife, Rhodes. You insisted on wedding me, and you’ll have me as I am—not as you wish me to be.”
A murmur rippled through the onlookers, though no one dared to move closer.
Rhodes’s voice dropped low, taut with control, his gaze burning into hers. “Bloody hell, Fawn, you test my patience.”
“And you test my tem—”
Before the word was finished, Rhodes’s hand shot out, dragging her hard against him, Sprig jumping out of the pouch with a screech, before his mouth crushed down on hers in a fierce, unrelenting kiss.
Gasps erupted from the crowd, sharp as the crack of ice. The falling snow hushed the village as the pair stood locked together, fire and fury colliding while their people watched.
For a breathless moment she fought him, her fists pressed against his chest but instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into the thick wool of his cloak. His mouth was fire, fierce and demanding, yet beneath it she felt something else, something that made her knees weaken against her will.
Rhodes tightened his hold, one hand splayed at her back, drawing her closer as though he meant to brand her as his before all who watched.
He’d meant to silence her, to show her and his clan who held command—yet the taste of her undid him.
She was wild heat and defiance, and he could no more stop himself than he could stop the snow from falling.
The crowd murmured, some gasping still, others whispering low, but neither of them seemed to hear.
When he finally broke the kiss, his breath was rough, his forehead brushing hers, his dark eyes blazing with more than anger.
Fawn’s lips tingled, her heart hammering. She was annoyed at the flutter in her stomach, for the way her body had melted even as her spirit raged. She jerked back, her breath unsteady, and the murmur of villagers rose again at the sight of her flushed cheeks and blazing eyes.
Rhodes’s mouth curved, slow and dangerous, as though he knew she would rather face a pack of wolves than admit what had just passed between them.
She wanted to shout at him, to claw back every shred of dignity his embrace had stolen, but the weight of the villagers’ eyes pressed in on her.
Arguing with him now, before his clan, would do her little good.
She swallowed hard, fury simmering beneath her skin, but what unsettled her most was the truth she dared not admit aloud…
the way her body had betrayed her. The way her heart still pounded, and not with anger alone.
Good Lord, was there more to what she felt for him?
The thought only stoked her ire further.
Rhodes’s hand clamped around her arm, his grip firm as iron. “To the keep,” he ordered, his voice sharp, leaving no room for disobedience.
He’d barely taken a step when Boyce’s voice carried across the lane. “My lord!”
Rhodes turned, annoyance flashing in his eyes.
Boyce strode toward him. “A matter that needs your attention.”
Rhodes’s grip on her arm tightened once more before he released her. “Go to the keep,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Wait for me there.”
Fawn lifted her chin but said nothing. She turned, walking with measured steps toward the keep and hearing Sprig cry out, stopped and scooped him up when he reached her.
The villagers’ stares followed her until she was far enough away from them and Rhodes gone from sight.
Only then did she veer from the path, her pace quickening, her breath rising sharp in the cold air.
The forest loomed ahead, silent and waiting, and without a glance behind her, she slipped into its shadows, vanishing from the village’s watchful eyes.
Fawn kept her steps swift until the village was far behind, until the keep’s looming walls were lost to the trees. Only then did she slow her pace and calm her breath.
She pressed a hand to her chest, as if she could still the wild beat of her heart. What madness is this? That a kiss—forced and unyielding—should leave her trembling not with fury alone, but with something far more dangerous.
She shook her head, muttering aloud as she wove deeper into the forest toward her home. “I will not fall to him. I will not. He may command a clan, but he will never command me.”
Above, squirrels darted along frosted branches, their claws clicking softly against the bark. A fox slipped across her path, pausing long enough to glance back at her before vanishing into the undergrowth. A bird called, sharp and clear, then another answered from deeper in the woods.
“You all understand,” she said, her voice softening, as though speaking to the animals themselves. “You know I will never let him turn me into something I’m not. I will fight him if I must, even if my own heart…” She trailed off, her throat tightening. “Even if my own heart is a traitor.”
The animals quieted. The squirrels froze on their branches, tails twitching once before going still. The fox did not reappear, and the birdcalls fell silent until only the sound of her own breathing remained.
The quiet was sudden, unnatural, as though the forest itself held its breath.
Fawn stopped, her pulse quickening. She turned slowly, her gaze sweeping the shadows between the trees.
And from the dim hush… stepped her mother.
Her voice cut through the stillness, calm but edged. “We need to talk, Fawn.”
Fawn froze where she stood, her heart thudding at the sight of her mother emerging from the shadows. Theodora’s dark green cloak clung to her as though it had been woven from the forest itself, her eyes sharp.
Fawn drew in a fortifying breath, preparing herself to deal with her ever-commanding mother. “Why are you here, Mum?”
Theodora’s lips curved faintly, though no warmth touched her gaze. “To see my daughter and to remind her not to tread a dangerous path.”
Fawn let out a bitter laugh. “Dangerous path? You mean marriage to Rhodes.”
“You would do well to heed me,” Theodora said quietly.
Fawn shook her head. “I don’t need heeding, and I no longer need you making decisions for me. I’m quite capable of deciding for myself.”
Theodora’s expression tightened. “At least be wise enough to allow your innate skills to guide you on this.”
Fawn lowered her voice to a whisper. “You mean witchcraft, which is dangerous advice, Mum.”
Theodora tossed her chin up with pride. “Wise witches are rarely, if ever, caught.”
Fawn grinned. “Then, of course, there is that rare foolish witch who goes around granting wishes to find her daughters suitable husbands and manages to get her daughters into trouble.”
“Minor trouble that was easily rectified—” A heavy breath robbed her remaining words, and Theodora shook her head. “Unfortunately, yours is a tad more complicated.”
“A tad, you say? I fear that Rhodes’ wish may be more than a tad more complicated.”
Something flashed in her mum’s eyes that she never saw before this moment… fear.
“Why? Has something happened?” her mum asked anxiously.
“Several sheep were torn apart, their throats ripped and left to bleed. Rhodes was ready to slaughter the wolves for it. Wolves who had no hand in it. I believe the culprit is someone who commands wolfhounds. Though why it was done remains a mystery.”
At that, Theodora’s face paled. “Or beasts.” Her voice was a whisper. “Then it begins.”
Fawn frowned. “What begins?”
Theodora seized her arm, her eyes blazing now, more fear than anger. “You must leave this place, Fawn. Leave him. Leave before it is too late.”
Fawn wrenched free. “Nay. I’m not running. Not from him. Not from any of this.”
“You do not understand,” Theodora pressed. “The darkness that clings to him, the power in—”
“I understand enough,” Fawn snapped, cutting her off. “He may infuriate me, may try to command me, but I will not be driven away. I will remain here. I made a commitment. I gave my word. I will remain his wife.”
The words rang into the still forest as defiant as the woman who spoke them.
Shocked, her mum barely got the words out. “You wed… him?”
“Aye, just today.”
Hope seemed to spring in her eyes. “Then you haven’t sealed your vows yet.”
“That is none of your concern,” Fawn said firmly.
Her mum rested her hand on Fawn’s arm. “Whatever you do, Fawn, do not consummate your vows. Do not seal this union to him.”
Her mum did something Fawn never saw her do… she pleaded with her.
“Please, Fawn, I beg of you, wait for a few days at least until he reveals his true self.”
Fawn shook her head. “You make no sense. What true self?”
Her mum kept her voice to a whisper. “The evil that lurks within him.”