5. Chapter 5
“Where are you going?” I follow the stranger into the pouring rain, ignoring the fact that my clothes are sopping wet, my boots are pooling with stagnant water, and my hair is sticking to my back.
“We can’t stay here,” he calls over his shoulder as we round the inn’s corner, the two of us heading straight toward a clearing in the trees.
He looks far better than I do, given our predicament.
He’s discarded his robes since our last meeting, his shirt now clinging to his body like it’s made of rematerialized rain, defining every inch of rippling muscle along his abdomen.
Gods, he is massive. And so are his strides.
“And whose fault is that?” I straggle far behind him, wading through swaths of bug-infested weeds and puddles of mud so deep, my boots nearly get stuck.
Multiple times. He glances over his shoulder and smirks at me.
But just as I’m about to hurl another insult at his back, we come upon a horse tied to a tree.
“He’s magnificent,” I gasp. The dark horse whinnies in greeting.
In one fluid motion, the man mounts the beast. For as massive as he is, his movements are a predatory grace.
Paired by luminescent eyes that harbor a quiet confidence and a cache of daggers secured in a sheath strapped to his pant leg, his entire demeanor screams that he’s dangerous.
Yet for some reason, I can’t bear to look away.
He’s magnetic and terrifying, but most of all, he’s my ticket out of this place.
“Magnificent?” His brow upticks in amusement. “Are you talking about me, or Hades?”
Shivering through sheets of rain, I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you seriously name your horse after the king of Hell?”
“Of course I did.” He affectionately pats the horse on his muzzle. “And he’s a formidable beast, aren’t you Hades?”
“Care... careful,” I stutter, the cold sinking into my bones and biting into me like it has teeth. “From the way you fawn over that horse, one might think that you have a heart.”
“Don’t go spreading any rumors.” He holds out his hand as a peace offering, coaxing me to climb onto the saddle alongside him with a supple waggle of his finger.
A gust of wind rattles me to the core, flustering me almost more than his expression does. “I’m afraid I have a strict policy against riding on the backs of horses with strange men,” I inform him between tingly, frost-nipped lips.
As if I have anywhere else to be right now.
“I’m Augustine,” the stranger says, his hand still outstretched as he shoots me an incredulous glare. “There. Now we are no longer strangers. Get on the saddle, Princess.”
I jut my chin in defiance. “Aren’t you going to ask me who I am?”
“You are someone who is going to catch pneumonia if you don’t find shelter from this storm immediately,” he remarks, waggling more of his gloved fingers around until I loosen a sigh and place a tentative hand in his grasp, followed by a foot in the stirrup.
“In front of me, not behind,” he says beneath a tickled cough, patting the space of the saddle near his groin.
I pull away from him. “What? Why?”
“If you sit in front of me, I can shelter you from the storm with my body. If you sit behind me, then your entire backside will be exposed to the rain. Unless, of course, you’d like to freeze to death. You’re already so close the way it is, and who am I to intervene with fate?”
He reaches out and runs a gloved finger along my lips, making a little comment about how blue they look. I swat his hand away. “I suppose you could always return to the inn,” he offers. “I’m sure you’d be incredibly popular with the bar patrons.”
A growl escapes my throat.
“So what’ll it be?” he asks, his bright eyes flickering with amusement.
He’s thoroughly enjoying languishing in my misery, isn’t he? Damn him and his enormous torso and his wide-set shoulders, where ripples of taut muscle are bulging beneath his sleeves. He’s right. I’ll never get the feeling back in my fingers unless I use his body heat to my advantage.
“I saw what you did to that innkeeper,” I growl as I heave myself over the horse. “How am I supposed to trust that you won’t stab me as well?”
Augustine wraps his bulky forearms around my shivering frame, and in return, a rush of warmth soars through my body. The goosebumps on my neck dwindle in relief, and my fingers flood with feeling.
“I’d never stab an enemy from behind,” he drawls, clutching the reins with his thick, leather gloves. “How else would I watch the light fade from their eyes?”
My mouth flies open in shock. He chuckles at my expense, then taps his powerful thighs against the horse’s sides, an action that sends the black stallion galloping into an even blacker forest.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going, nor have you asked me for my name,” I gripe about an hour later, after a murder of crows begins encircling us overhead.
The beaked creatures spiral through a few tufts of fog and then land on the trees’ boughed branches, craning their necks in our direction.
Their presence points to the fact that I have no sense of direction in this dark and dreary place, which is not only discomfiting, but a death trap.
What was I thinking, agreeing to tag along with this murderous stranger?
Or Augustine, apparently. Since the murderous stranger has a name.
Augustine doesn’t respond to my little outburst, so I try again, this time with more enthusiasm.
“Are you taking me deep into the forest to murder me? Are you planning to toss me off this saddle and feed me to a pack of bloodthirsty wolves? Because if so, my friends are going to be really pissed,” I say informatively.
This seems to get his attention. “If I wanted to murder you, I would’ve done so miles ago. Long before you ever began your incessant yapping,” he growls. “However, since that is not my intention, your friends can ease their minds.”
“Don’t sound so surprised to learn of their existence,” I say, toying with my lie until it’s wrapped around me like a noose.
The truth is, I’ve never had any friends.
Unless you count my sister, who is bound by blood to tolerate me and only appears at the most inconvenient of times… mostly because she’s an apparition.
Augustine’s chest rises and falls against my back. “Oh, the contrary. I’m not surprised to learn of your friendships in the slightest, considering how agreeable and pleasant you are to be around.”
“Someone sounds jealous.” I square my shoulders against his back. “What’s wrong? Do you not have any friends of your own to boast about?”
“I’m perfectly content with being alone,” he remarks.
“If that’s true, then why did you invite me on your horse?”
“Because you looked like a wet bird who got caught in a storm.”
“I don’t want your pity, or your insults. Turn this horse around right now.”
“And bring you where, exactly?” he asks, holding back a sigh.
“To Windspire, where you found me.”
“And where in Windspire might you go?” he chuckles darkly.
Wait a fucking second…
“First you follow me to the inn, and then you eavesdrop on my conversations?” I screech like the bird he’s accused me of being as I think back on my conversation with Sally, and how I’d confessed to her that I was homeless. Had this infuriating man really overheard everything?
He clenches the reins tighter in his thick gloves and says, “Calm down, Little Bird. I wasn’t eavesdropping.
I was simply trying to avoid the storm and eat a nice meal in peace.
And I would’ve been successful, had you not ruined my quiet evening.
For your information, your voice carries like a damned harpy. ”
“Why are you acting like this is all my fault? You’re the one who stabbed someone, and then you made me your accomplice to murder!” My voice climbs so high, the trees rustle in response.
“You act as though I had another choice,” he says calmly.
“There’s always another choice!”
“You’re right.” He pulls back on the horse’s reins until the beautiful creature slows to a halt.
“You have the choice to walk back to Windspire. If you start now, you should arrive by the morning. Unless, of course, the wolves kill you in the night. I hear they’re most formidable this time of year.
” He shakes out his damp hair as Hades stomps his hooves in agreement.
“On the flip side, I have the choice to toss you off this saddle if you don’t quit your whining. What will it be?”
My mouth goes dry. “You’re insufferable, do you realize that?”
“And you’re not?” he retorts.
“Ugh!” I make no move to dismount, and Augustine makes no move to toss me off the saddle.
It seems that we’ve reached a mutual agreement, albeit a silent one.
It’s one that leads us deeper into the heart of the forest, where the trees form a thick canopy over our heads.
Thankfully, the foliage here is so interwoven that the rain can’t penetrate it.
It’s a nice reprieve from the elements, even if it means I’m stuck with him for the time being.
“You should know,” he murmurs, his breath a hot whisper against my ear. “I didn’t see any of your friends trying to rescue you from that madman back there. Who, by the way, threw you over his shoulder like a burlap sack.”
“You over-exaggerate,” I scoff.
“Do I?” he asks, every muscle in his body tensing behind me. “Because from what I can recall, if I hadn’t intervened, that man would’ve delivered you straight to the queen. And then what would’ve become of you, Raven…" he trails off.
My frozen breath clashes against his radiating heat, creating a sensation of steam rising between our bodies. “My name is Shadow. Shay, for short.”
“As you say,” he replies.
“It’s not what you think,” I grind out, working my jaw. “My spellmark means nothing.”
“I think that the queen would disagree,” he counters.
“You speak as though you know her personally,” I point out.