Chapter 26 #2
“Rules governing conduct. I violated at least three of them last night.”
Was he really worried about rules right now? She didn’t think so.
But he did regret what happened.
Even if he wanted her—even if he maybe liked her—he wasn’t going to let himself have her. She’d seen the look on his face before, on men in Sulen—decent men—who were interested until they realized who she was and what it would cost them to have her.
“Look,” he said gently. “The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”
That hit her right in the chest, stealing her breath for a heartbeat or two.
She was fairly certain that his rejection hurt more than his cock would have.
She wasn’t going to tell him that. It didn’t matter anyway. She’d played her hand, told him what she wanted. He didn’t want the same thing. He didn’t really owe her an explanation.
“All right then.” Not looking at him, she climbed to her feet, clutching the blanket tight in one fist.
Casrian rose with her. “Rowan…”
She didn’t think she could listen to another apology from him right now.
“I should get dressed,” she said. “Do you mind if we skip knife practice today?”
An image flashed through her mind of her knife sinking into the man’s flesh. How easy it had been. How was she supposed to practice stabbing Casrian knowing how easy it would be to actually hurt him?
“I let you sleep late. We don’t really have time to train this morning anyway.” He hesitated a moment and then asked, “Are you certain you’re all right?”
She couldn’t force herself to look him in the eyes. Instead, she focused on the collar of his jacket. “I’m fine.”
He was silent for a long moment. She could feel the weight of his stare though she couldn’t find the courage to meet it. Finally, he said, “I’m going to scout the area to see if there’s any sign my patrol passed this way while you get dressed. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
When she nodded, it felt like she was agreeing to more than the immediate plan. Like she was agreeing to put what had happened between them aside to focus on the mission. Like she was agreeing it wouldn’t happen again.
Casrian seemed to accept it. He tossed the remainder of his tea into the fire and walked off into the woods to check for tracks. She waited until she couldn’t hear him anymore before she let out a ragged sigh and began to dress.
Slinging the bow across her back, she grabbed her quiver and some tooth powder before heading to the stream. Casrian hadn’t yet returned to their camp for which she was grateful. He was considerate that way, allowing her as much privacy as he could while keeping her safe.
She tried not to think about Casrian scrubbing her clothes before the sun came up just so she didn’t have to pull on the bloodstained fabric in the morning.
She tried not to think about the way his hands had felt on her and the things he’d whispered over her skin as she came apart.
She tried to convince herself that she didn’t want to do it again.
That she didn’t wonder what it would feel like to have his cock inside her instead of his fingers or what he would look like if he ever let himself truly go.
He was so very disciplined, careful about the face he showed to the world.
It was probably the way he’d been raised—the selfish father and neglectful mother caught in their spiral of obsession and violence, being abandoned to an orphanage even though he actually had family who could have taken him in, the brutality of his work as a witch hunter.
It was no wonder he blocked people out and kept them at a distance, showed them who he wanted them to see.
The perfect soldier. Dutiful and bright.
Not the bastard. Not the orphan. Not a breath of scandal attached to his name. Somebody who couldn’t ever be hurt.
She understood the impulse. Did he think she didn’t want to escape being the witch’s daughter?
The poor strange girl from Toam? She would shed those titles if she could.
Only, escaping them meant abandoning her mother and she wasn’t going to do that.
So she wore her titles instead. Made sure that people could see them. Rubbed their damned faces in it.
She supposed she kept people at a distance too.
She’d thought they’d found some common ground out here in the woods. She’d thought he was letting his guard down a little bit. It made her feel safe enough to do the same. But it was a trap and she’d fallen right into it.
It didn’t matter how much the man inside the uniform wanted her.
And he did. She’d felt that even if he didn’t want to admit it.
All that mattered was the uniform. Being a good soldier.
Following his stupid rules. Being a witch hunter who wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping with a witch’s daughter.
Maybe he’d told her the truth and he didn’t see her as beneath him, but he didn’t see her as a woman he could let himself want either.
Which was frustrating. Because as much as she wanted to pretend that she didn’t still want him after that awkward conversation, she did. She needed to put it out of her head, like the dead man.
Forget it had happened.
Forget about the whole damned night.
She was so distracted by not thinking about Casrian that she didn’t notice the silence of the woods at first. When she did notice the change, she stopped.
In the distance, she could hear the trickle of water over stone. There was a slight breeze stirring through the trees, making the leaves rattle. But there were no animal sounds. No birds flitting between branches. No squirrels rustling around.
She stretched out her senses, reaching out to the trees around her. There was that warm welcoming hug of connection followed almost immediately by a thrum of dread.
They come.
She stopped and turned to the nearest tree. A red oak with orange and russet leaves carpeting its base. Her palm scraped over the deeply ridged bark as she tried to deepen the connection, closing her eyes even if she’d rather keep them open.
Who comes?
The tree’s awareness brushed against hers, making her fingertips tingle. A spark ran up her arm in a current. She winced at the sensation. Something oily. Something shadowed. This tree wasn’t gone to rot but it had been touched by it.
Danger, child.
She resisted the impulse to withdraw her hand and pressed deeper.
What danger? Who comes?
But the tree was no more forthcoming than that. It wasn’t malicious exactly, but it wasn’t friendly either, lost in a bitterness she didn’t have time to explore. She pulled her hand away and wiped it on her breeches, trying to shake the sensation.
Was it Casrian’s men who were coming? She hoped so.
Maybe he’d found some sign of them on his circuit of the camp and was even now heading back to find her.
She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should turn back.
Before she made up her mind, the smell hit her, musky and deep, an animal smell she recognized from that creature that had chased her off the cliff.
Warily, she pulled the bow from her shoulder, grabbed an arrow and crouched low, sweeping her gaze around her, down the trail leading to the stream, up the short hill on her right, glancing behind her.
There was nothing but dappled sunlight, the tall straight trunks of the trees, a carpet of leaves in gold and brown.
Distantly, she could hear the sound of water moving over rocks, but the animals were still silent.
The silence stretched and she held herself still, waiting. When nothing moved, she started to retrace her steps, searching the woods as she went.
She’d taken fewer than a dozen steps when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.
There.
A creature stood in the hollow between a dip in the land and a fallen tree. Half-wolf, half-horror. Hungry yellow eyes fixed on her.
She nocked an arrow.
Everything in her screamed at her to run. But she knew—deep down she knew—that thing would catch her before she made it back to the camp. Catch her and rake those deadly claws down her back, bury those wicked teeth in her neck.
And what if she made it back to camp? Casrian wasn’t there. Even if she made it to Copper, would he be able to outrun the thing? Her heart thudded as another creature came into view, slipping through the shadows from the direction of the swamp.
“Steady,” a quiet voice said behind her. “Don’t move.”
A shudder of relief rocked through her.
Casrian.
“The sun burns their skin,” he said in a bare whisper. A leaf crunched beneath his weight as he shifted closer. “Keep to the sunlight. Back up slowly.”
She wasn’t in the sun. The hill ahead of her blocked most of the light. The shade from the oak tree blocked the rest.
Keeping her eyes on those two unnatural creatures, she forced herself to take a single step back.
“Keep coming. It’s all right. You’re almost there.”
The thing on the right advanced, head low to the ground, moving in a weirdly serpentine way for something that was shaped like a wolf. Like its bones weren’t quite solid.
She took another shaky step back.
The one on the left stood up. Its upper lip pulled back on one side, revealing finger-long fangs that dripped with saliva. There were too many teeth in that mouth. A wolf didn’t have that many teeth.
She took another step, almost falling when her foot landed in a hole. She took another quick step to steady herself and the one on the right tensed like it meant to lunge.
A hand closed around her arm and jerked her back. She was pressed against a solid chest for a moment and then released with a gentle push. “Go back to the camp.”
The creature on the right attacked, seeming to fly across the distance separating them.
Casrian stepped forward to meet it because he had no sense of self-preservation at all. His sword caught the creature in midair, cutting it down with a strike that looked effortless. The stench burned her nose. Bitter, cloying rot. Death. Blood. Meat.
She scrambled back as it fell to the ground, but the other creature was already moving.