Chapter 40 – Rowan
ROWAN
“Not anymore.”
Twelve moons, I wanted to strangle him—still do. I mentally mark the section of his throat I’d wrap my hands around while I watch Ayer pack his saddlebags across camp.
He found my dagger.
My dagger.
He must have found it when he hooked his arm under my leg, carrying me off the road.
Light, Rowan. Look what you’ve done.
I stare at his belt, the black sheath where he’s keeping it.
The dark rune burned into my wrist might prevent me from hurting him, but it won’t stop me from taking it back.
That’s mine.
My head spins as I push myself up further.
Just maybe not today.
Despite the delicious warmth from the fire and furs, I didn’t sleep well. The body aches and relentless pounding in my head kept me up. And now and then, an icy chill rips through me so harshly it forces out a small whimper of pain.
I haven’t dared to look over at Ayer. I didn’t need to look to know he was watching, as usual—not that I was in any shape to try running away. His woodsy scent lingered nearby all night: ash and cedar.
As if summoned by the mere thought of him, he turns and stalks my way. The breeze shifts, blowing the leaves on the trees high above, and sunlight streams into the clearing. I wince as the bright light hits my face, the pain like a sharp knife to the skull.
A dark shadow passes, blocking out the offending sun and providing instant relief that loosens my shoulders. Then I look up and grimace. The dark shadow isn’t a trick of the light.
It’s Ayer.
“Time to go.”
I give him a curt nod to let him know I heard him, bracing myself with a deep breath before attempting to stand. I move slowly so as not to overwhelm my head that’s struggling to keep up.
Just rising to my feet takes considerable effort, and instills little confidence in my ability to get through what’s likely to be yet another full day of travel.
Finally upright, I waver slightly, feeling Ayer’s eyes on me still.
“Don’t you have anything else you could be doing?” I snap, humiliation burning hotter than the fever. I hate that Ayer gets to see me like this.
The insufferable captain leans his back against the tree, pulling an apple from his pocket and taking a bite. A look of amusement on his face.
“No.”
My cheeks blaze, and as adrenaline crashes through me, the world lurches violently around me. I’m forced to close my eyes, holding out my hands for balance in order to prevent myself from toppling over.
After a few long seconds, and once I feel like I’m no longer in danger of pitching forward face-first into the dirt, I tentatively open my eyes.
I breathe slowly in and out before carefully leaning down to pick up one of the furs I slept on last night, rolling it tightly before reaching for the next.
Ayer straightens from where he was leaning against the tree. “You don’t have to; Hayes will get those.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble as I finish rolling up the second fur, needing to do something other than just exist. I feel his eyes on me for another moment before he walks over to give the remaining apple core to Dash.
As soon as his eyes are off me, my knees buckle under my weight. I stumble over to the same tree Ayer had just been using for support and let it steady me.
You can do this.
You have to do this.
There is literally no other choice but to do this.
Ayer’s men have set a fast daily pace to wherever-the-stars-know we’re going, and I know yesterday’s delay cost them. There is no way Ayer is willing to sacrifice another whole day on account of me. I’m just going to have to figure out how to get through this.
Hayes strolls by, dropping off a little bundle of dried meat and fruit alongside another waterskin.
Although I’ve barely eaten in days, I’m not hungry. But aware of just how grueling the day will be, I force the food down my throat, hoping it will stay down. I need all the help I can get just to survive today.
I reach for the waterskin, meaning to down it quickly, but at the first taste, I immediately pull back when something thick and sweet fills my mouth. I frown down at the leather skin, sniffing the opening before taking another sip, slower this time.
Milk.
But it’s sweetened… milk thistle root, and honey, I think? And cinnamon.
Damn him.
I nearly choke, suppressing either a snort, a chuckle, or both.
My eyes find Ayer, busy saddling Dash and prepping for the day. I can’t tell if the pouch is meant as a kindness or a taunt, but either way, the smooth liquid feels good on my throat, and I wash the rest of it down.
The men have begun mounting their horses, so once I’m finished, I carry my blankets and empty waterskin over to where Ayer and Dash are waiting.
It’s going to be fine. You can do this. Do this.
Ayer takes the bundle of furs out of my hands without a word. I take a minute to greet Dash, rubbing my palm down the stallion’s velvety neck. The horse gives me a playful nudge with his nose.
The push, however gentle, still nearly takes me off my feet; the world tilts violently, and it’s work to steady myself.
Quickly, I glance over my shoulder, finding relief when I confirm Ayer did not see.
Or—at least I don’t think he did.
Circling back around Dash, Ayer reaches into his pocket, pulling out the cursed ropes.
My stomach twists.
He takes my wrists in his hands, tugging me slightly closer as he winds the rope around.
I inhale sharply as he ties off the first knot, holding my breath again when I catch his cedar scent in my nose.
Turning away, I keep my eyes on the woods as he finishes tightening and knotting the cords before dropping my hands as if I burned him.
The sudden release throws me off balance again, but I recover quickly, steadying myself before I can stumble, hoping Ayer doesn’t notice otherwise.
If he does, he doesn’t say anything.
He swings his leg up and over Dash, and we’re off.
We’re not even out of the clearing yet before my boot drags a little too much, catching on a loose stone. I overcorrect, and the rebound sets me off kilter, sending me crashing down onto one knee.
With only a second to recover before the rope drags me, I force myself back to my feet, teetering, but upright and walking.
One step after another. There you go, now do it again, I coach myself, my eyes on the ground. Which is how I nearly crash straight into Dash’s hindquarters a second later, completely unprepared for him to stop.
My throat tightens when I notice Ayer dismounting, and the look on his face is stormy, dangerous.
I take a few steps back, as far as the rope will allow, putting as much distance as possible between me and the irate captain.
“I don’t have time for this today,” Ayer says, stalking toward me, his voice sharp with irritation.
“It’s fine. It won’t happen again,” I rush out, refusing to meet his eyes. I keep my gaze fixed on the trail ahead, watching the rest of his men disappear around the bend.
“It’s not fine,” he growls, gesturing at me. “You can barely stand.”
“Not true,” I argue. “I’ll have you know… I’m standing just fine.” I lift my chin, rolling my shoulders back to showcase just how well I am standing. Hardly a sway in sight. For now.
“Get on the horse.”
Shocked, my gaze snaps to his, and I immediately regret it. The world tilts violently, and a sharp pulse of pain lances through my skull. My hands fly up to my forehead and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying my best to manage the bite of the pain in my head without letting him see me cry.
“No, thank you.” I straighten my shoulders again, pretending my head’s not still running circles around us.
“It wasn’t a question.”
“Was it an order?” I lift my eyes to his.
“Yes.”
I straighten, despite the fever making my knees tremble. “How’s that been working out for you so far?”
“Princess…” Ayer’s voice holds a dangerous undertone of warning, but I ignore him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his jaw flex, his annoyance giving way to anger.
“Get on the godsdamned horse, Rowan.”
That catches my attention.
Rowan.
Not princess. Not kitten.
My name sounds different on his tongue.
I eye Dash nervously, swallowing down the rising anxiety before dragging my gaze back to Ayer, forcing my expression into something more like disdain.
“I don’t take orders from you.”
He moves fast.
Too fast.
My first instinct is to run, but I’m already at the rope’s end.
There’s nowhere to go.
I barely have time to brace before he shoves me.
He might as well have thrown me off a cliff for how my body reacts.
The small push is enough to send the world pitching sideways.
Vertigo crashes over me, stealing any sense of up or down.
My legs, already trembling beneath me, give out, and my knees buckle.
I’m falling.
Strong hands catch me before I hit the dirt.
“On the horse. Now.”
I consider refusing again, but the barely contained fury radiating off of Ayer decides for me. I’m in no state to test just how far I can push him.
“Fine.”
I wrench myself out of his grip, nearly careening over, but somehow stay upright. I stomp toward Dash, grabbing a handful of his mane to center myself before attempting to haul my body up on top of him.
Hands close around my waist. Before I can protest, I’m lifted clear off the ground and set atop the saddle like I weigh nothing at all.
Suddenly finding myself on a horse, I don’t have time to be angry as fear overtakes me. My heart races in my chest.
It’s too high.
The horse shifts beneath me. Just a single step, but it feels like an earthquake. My breath comes in sharp, frantic bursts. My hands shake so badly I can’t tell if I’m holding on or slipping. The panic claws higher, and my entire body goes rigid.
I’m going to fall. I’m going to—
A hand settles on my thigh, steadying me against the saddle. Not forcing. Just... holding me there.
“Princess.”
His voice cuts cleanly through the noise in my head.
“Look at me.”
My eyes refuse. Then, slowly... they find him.
Gray. Just gray eyes watching me with an intensity I haven’t seen before.
“Are you with me?”
With a death grip on the saddle and my mouth tight, I nod.