Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
SERAFINA
Speck was not in his pasture.
Thanks to Thorne, neither were the nerf. The wooly beasts had taken one look at my grumpy escort and bolted for the hills. Apparently, they were excellent judges of character.
I had little opportunity to ponder their strange reaction, too worried about Speck. Surely, we’d find him at the manor. I let the thought reassure me, allowing the gentle sway of my speckled mare to settle my nerves.
While traversing the steep mountain trail, I’d taken a moment to reconsider my situation.
With both Alaric and Thorne’s assistance, the odds of finding Speck were far greater than mine alone.
The part where Alaric believed he owned me, I’d deal with once Speck and I were reunited.
For now, I’d tolerate just about anything to find him.
Even my surly escort.
Side-by-side, our horses clomped along a dusty road that would lead us through Nefarr.
Birds chirped as they flew over our heads.
Tall grasses whispered in the breeze. Bright sunlight heated the top of our heads, and I was reassured, knowing the wendigos lived in darkness.
In fact, the only dark cloud in sight was the one that hovered over Thorne.
I studied him from beneath my lashes, struck again by the rugged perfection of his features. It was a crime this arrogant man was so undeniably gorgeous. Even while scowling. With his broad shoulders and corded forearms, the ladies at Rottbarry Manor would have fought for his attention.
It was fortunate that I was immune to his charms. Fortunate my pulse didn’t skip a beat every time those sparkling blue eyes swung in my direction. Nope. All I felt for him was annoyance. Thank goodness. Giving your heart to someone was nothing but a fast track to misery.
“See something you like, Princess?” His deep voice rolled over me in a manner that made me shiver.
I dragged my focus from the way his muscular thighs gripped his horse, only to find those hypnotic eyes of his on me. I shifted in my saddle, my blood strangely warm despite the mild temperatures.
“Hardly,” I scoffed, tipping my chin at a lofty angle.
“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which one?” Since leaving the mountain, he’d only asked me about a hundred. Traitors to the crown were subjected to less.
“Do you really have no idea who your parents were?”
I struggled to pull even a fragment of their faces from my fractured mind. Instead, images of an altar, my bound hands, and fire flashed through my psyche. Despite the warmth of the sun beating down on me, an icy chill raked up my spine. I shivered, shifting in my saddle.
“Like I already told you, I’ve no memory of the first seven years of my life.” I sent him a glance from the corner of my eye. “Why this sudden interest in me, anyway?”
“Just thought we should get to know each other better since Alaric insisted we work together.”
“Then I should ask some questions of my own.”
“Ask away,” he declared with a gallant sweep of his hand.
“How long have you and Alaric known each other?”
“Too long.”
“Where did you meet?”
“In a different time. Different world.”
I rolled my eyes at a cloud passing overhead. “Are you always this cryptic?”
His lips twisted. “I prefer to think of myself as mysterious.”
“Riiight.” It was also a handy way to withhold anything of a personal nature. “So how did you end up at Pyrrhus?”
“Alaric was unwell and could travel no further. With the hunters on our trail, we needed someplace safe.”
“The two of you seem awfully familiar with the place.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Alaric and I have journeyed all over the realm. For us, many places are familiar.”
“Must be nice.”
“What’s that?” He cast me a sidelong glance.
“To travel. I’ve never been outside of Nefarr.”
“That explains it.”
“Explains what?” I twisted my head, watching his lips draw into a blinding smile.
“Why you’re so uncultured.”
My own mouth turned in the opposite direction. “If I am uncultured, then what does that make you?”
“Come again?”
“Have you served the dragon so long you’ve forgotten how to take part in a polite conversation?”
“Number one.” He held up his index finger. “I don’t serve him. Two.” He added a second, batting those damn sooty lashes of his. “I am being polite.”
“Are not,” I scoffed.
“I haven’t cursed at you or told you what a pain in my ass you are. Have I?”
I clenched the reins I held, wishing I could wrap them around his arrogant neck. “Why do you have all this hostility toward me, anyway?” I certainly hadn’t planned on becoming the dragon’s captive. And yet Thorne hated me on sight.
He opened his mouth as if to respond, then snapped it shut again, shaking his head. “Because you give the dragon false hope.”
Something told me that wasn’t the answer he’d originally intended.
“You think I can’t heal his wounds?”
He turned his gaze forward, glaring at the road. “You cannot give him what he needs.”
What he needs? To treat him? Cryptic. So cryptic.
As we cleared a low ridge, the remains of Rottbarry Manor came into view.
I sucked in a breath. Seeing the destruction from a distance was far different from witnessing it up close.
Buildings lay crumbled. Porches, roofs, and possessions were now piles of ash.
And the bodies. Tears welled in my eyes, and I dashed them away on the shoulder of my borrowed shirt.
“This way,” I said, voice an emotional croak, leading Thorne down a narrow trail that skirted the manor.
He hesitated to follow. “You said your supplies were inside Rottbarry. Understand that if you are up to some trick, I will—”
“Light me on fire and toss me off the mountain. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Outside of the stables, I dismounted, then tied my reins to a nearby post.
“What business could you possibly have in a barn?” Thorne climbed to the ground as well, securing his horse beside mine.
Fates, but the man was paranoid. “Healing business,” I tossed over my shoulder, heading for the stable doors with quick strides.
Firm fingers circled my biceps, a low voice growling, “Tell me what we are doing here, or I will haul you back to Pyrrhus right now. Medicines or not.”
“Fine.” I jerked my arm free. “If you must know, I’m here to collect some liniment and check for signs of Speck.”
“Liniment. Like the stuff they use on livestock?” His brows slid up his forehead.
“Yes. Alaric may be sentient and intelligent, but his body is that of a beast, not a man. I’ve never treated a dragon before and thought it could be useful.”
“Because you see him as a beast.”
“Don’t you?”
At this, Thorne snickered. “I suggest you don’t share this observation with him.” He hesitated. “On second thought. Tell him. Definitely tell him.”
I scowled. “Know what? I don’t get you. One minute you’re ready to slaughter anything you perceive as a threat to the dragon, the next you’re all too eager to antagonize him.”
“Maybe I like to live on the edge.”
“You’re on the edge, alright. The edge of insanity.” I backed away, headed for the barndoor.
“Serafina, wait.”
“I don’t take orders from—” My foot slipped out from under me, and I teetered on my heels. Arms pinwheeling, I took in the gaping hole in the ground that waited to swallow me.
Before I could plunge to my death, Thorne grabbed me, tugging me away from the dark abyss. Smashed against his chest, I sucked in a deep breath, filling my senses with his masculine scent, a fiery fragrance that reminded me of spirited celebrations and dancing around a roaring bonfire.
I tipped my head back, lungs seizing as I peered at my savior.
Sky-blue eyes stared back at me, framed by thick lashes.
My racing heart sped to an even faster pace, pounding beneath the intensity of his predatory focus.
Those arresting eyes consumed me, scanning my face before settling on my mouth.
I licked my lips, and his expression turned stormy.
Something shadowy and primal flickered between us—hungry, yearning—making my pulse throb in places I didn’t dare acknowledge.
But as quickly as it surfaced, that darkness vanished, shuttered behind an icy mask that made my skin prickle.
“Little idiot.” He grasped my shoulders, giving me a shake. “Flitting about when you need to be cautious.”
Flitting? I’d never flitted a day in my life. Was this how he saw me? Like some brainless dandelion dancing upon a breeze? Like Penelope.
The thanks I’d planned stuck in my throat. “What’s the matter? Afraid that if I die, the dragon will make you his dinner?”
He scowled in return. “I will lead from now on.”
“Suit yourself.”
Thorne drew closer to the edge of the hole, scratching his chin. “This is how the wendigos infiltrate the grounds so easily. They tunnel under the walls.”
“They did appear out of nowhere.” I shivered, rubbing my arms. “Let’s see this task done before the sun sets.”
“Agreed.” Thorne led the way into the barn. After a quick sweep of the space, he motioned for me to follow.
All the paddocks were empty, those who’d escaped using the horses to ride to safety. Or at least I hoped they’d escaped.
I hurried to a rustic set of stairs, hustling up to the loft.
In the corner, I found a small crate used as a table, along with a pallet of blankets.
On the box was an assortment of hand-carved figurines.
I smiled to discover the one Speck had sculpted of me.
My head was entirely too large for my stick body, but it was clear his skills were improving.
All of his worldly possessions remained. A single change of clothing, an oil lamp, and a collection of hag stones with holes in the center. Nothing was missing.
Speck never made it back to the barn. My chest squeezed.
“Where are you?” I whispered.
“Right behind you.”
Thorn’s voice jerked my heart into my throat, and I spun, clutching my chest. “Damn you.”
He smirked at my discomfort. “You seem awfully familiar with the hayloft. What did you claim your position was here?”