Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
The courtyard brims with activity, crowded with Adele’s entourage, soldiers milling around, and castle servants sorting and loading supplies.
I tighten my cloak’s hood, pretending to block out the low-sitting glare of the late sun.
Before I can second-guess myself, I steal a burlap bag of wilted carrots from an unattended cart and climb onto a small gelding still harnessed near the mound of half-eaten hay.
Peering up at the curtains drawn behind Ashland’s window, I shake my head and trot past the distracted gate sentinel flirting with one of Adele’s many female attendants. I keep going despite the gnawing and yearning to retrieve my circlet. To not leave it. To go back.
I swallow, fearing my recklessness, but caution has done nothing for me this far.
The whispers lash at me as I stubbornly follow the path to the village before cutting into the misted forest. My heels dig into the gelding’s side, urging the old horse into a canter and then a gallop.
Faster.
And faster.
Wind whistles through the trees.
A sudden blanket of darkness covers the forest before rippling back to normal. I look at the sky, studying it, confused by what I’ve just witnessed.
The horse rears on its hind legs.
I lose my grip, toppling from the saddle onto the hard ground in a heap of skirts, the air knocked from my lungs. The gelding whinnies, rearing again before nearly stomping me. I roll out of the way just in time as the horse tears through the thicket at full speed.
With a grunt, I struggle to my feet and keep moving forward. A gnarled root trips me, making me slam my knees into the loamy soil. I push up on my scraped hands and run, sprinting as my lungs burn with each strain and pump of my muscles.
Trees flash by as I lose myself deeper in the pines, their strong scent oppressive and intoxicating at the same time.
The pull of the circlet’s power calls from the castle, beckoning me to return to it like an invisible rope, creating resistance to my every hurried step.
Darkness encroaches, but it isn’t fully night yet.
The sun hasn’t even set.
Why is it so dark…?
Through the branches, yellow eyes gleam in my periphery. My stomach plummets, and I wish I had stolen Neriene from the armory for protection. I could try to use magic, but what if that worsens his rage? Would I even be able to control it without the Alexra?
Canine yips fill the air.
My pulse beats against my ribcage, my mouth turning dry.
His voice rumbles like thunder at the back of my neck, desperately close: “Did you really think I wouldn’t sense the moment you fled?
That I wouldn’t smell your fear building in these woods?
That, with each step you took, farther and farther away from me—that my powers wouldn’t bring me directly to you?
Did you think I wouldn’t find you? I’ll always find you, Tabitha. ”
Wildly craning my neck and searching for him, I slide downward on a muddy embankment, the dead leaves cascading with me, overwhelming my nostrils with the scent of decaying matter.
He’s nowhere to be seen.
Caked mud weighs my boots down as my wool stockings come loose and roll downward, making my gait uneven and slow.
Laughter soon stalks me, and I swear his breath blows on the back of my neck as I leap over a babbling creek, gasping for air, staggering into an open valley surrounded by dark evergreens and fog.
A thick, hard body tackles me.
We fall onto the weeds and wildflowers of the soft, damp ground, somersaulting down a hill together, arms and legs entwined until we come to a sudden halt. He struggles over me as he straddles my waist with his muscular thighs, pinning my wrists in place with his hands. “Tabitha, stop! Damn it!”
“Let me go home!” I scream as my hips buck wildly. “Please!”
“No. You don’t belong to Alexandria anymore.”
“I’ve always belonged to Alexandria. I’ve always served her faithfully, even when I resented and hated her. You of all people should understand how I feel. You can’t take that away from me!”
“No, I can’t—but you should take your own advice and separate yourself from Alexandria. Your place is with me now. You’re my courtesan. Everyone believes we share a bed. I won’t let you ruin this because you miss your kingdom.”
I stop fighting and whisper, “She doesn’t.”
“Who doesn’t what?”
“She doesn’t believe that we… that we’re… fucking,” I hiss. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have thrown herself at you. You’ll try to blame me, but you’re not convincing anyone that you desire me.” My chest rises and falls. “I can’t even blame her—not when you barely tolerate me.”
“This is about Adele?” he asks with a scoff, staring intently at me. “Let’s get one thing straight. Adele flies in as quickly as she flies out. We have an agreement, so my level of convincing has very little to do with anything. She has her lovers, and I have mine. Everyone knows this.”
“Then by all means, go finish with her and allow me to leave you once and for all. Because let’s be real fucking honest, you don’t want me in your castle any more than I want to be your courtesan.
I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and I’ve told you everything I know, so how can I possibly be of any more use to you? Just let me go already!”
“The commanders need to see you active and at my side.”
“Aren’t you worried what they’ll say when they see her on you while I’m sitting right there? They were watching you two the entire time…”
“They’ll think what every man would naturally assume—that I’m a king with a bounty in my bed, committed to no one. Even if you were my true courtesan, you’d have no right to complain; you aren’t my lady wife, so you’d do well to hide your jealousy.”
Scorching, blazing, incendiary flames shoot up my neck, curling around my ears as his sharp eyes assess me. I buck my hips wildly again, trying to force him from me.
“Don’t do something stupid,” he growls from above, pinning me down even harder.
“Then don’t disrespect me. It doesn’t matter if you merely view me as only a courtesan. You know I’m worth more than these games you play.” I jerk my head upward to bite his face, to take flesh if I have to, but he catches my mouth in a searing kiss.
My mind goes blank.
With both hands, he tightly holds my face still.
Slowly, his thumb slides down my neck as he forces my lips apart with his tongue.
I bite his bottom lip hard, making his ferocity into the kiss deeper and more unyielding as he clutches the back of my skull, winding his fingers through my hair, and tugging me into a passionate submission despite my resistance.
Calloused fingertips squeeze the curve of my bare hip as my wool skirts and cotton petticoats fold up in the tussle, our legs tangled together. A hot, throbbing pulse begins to beat between my shaking thighs—something I never wanted to feel with this man.
His hand roams over the hollow of my neck where my cloak fastens, the tie pushing into my airflow. Despite the frustrating need taking over my body, the memory of Adele won’t leave my mind—
Though to be clear, the label of jealousy remains irrelevant and insulting. It’s not about wanting him; it’s about common decency in the role he created for me. Being his courtesan is one thing, but I’m done being his captive to humiliate. With a sharp inhale, I bring my knee up fast and hard.
“Ugh!”
He rolls over, gasping for air, clutching his groin.
I bolt.
But I’ve hardly sprinted twenty feet forward before he lifts and slings me over his shoulder, carrying me as I kick and shriek.
I refuse to relent as he steps through the growing darkness of the forest, the sun setting behind us.
He swats my ass through my many petticoat layers in an attempt to quiet me as I screech his name.
He laughs, “Calm down before I give you a real reason to scream my name.”
Upside down, I beat on his back with balled fists. “You promised me this would be in name only, you wretched, stupid liar. Never kiss me without my permission ever again. Do you hear me?”
The infuriating part is that I’m not even angry that he stole a kiss from me without asking first. I should be. I know I should be. But the only concern plaguing me is that I simply don’t want him to ever think I enjoyed it.
Ashland grunts in response, stomping along the path.
“Are you listening to me?” My shrill tone sends birds into flight from the canopy above us.
“You could stop squawking and thank me for not letting you get killed out there. Only a fucking idiot would run into the wilderness, no food, no supplies. What were you thinking? Oh, wait—you weren’t, as usual.”
Speech becomes difficult as he jostles me. “I was—I was thinking the risk of death would be more preferable than taking my chances with you.”
He rubs his left chest muscle, grumbling about ungrateful guests, and I nearly lose my mind. I beat on his shoulder blades again, slapping hard, but this time bright and angry sparks fly from my palms, burning through his tunic.
Arching his back, he yowls and drops me.
Unbridled rage flares in his eyes, and I swallow, wondering if I’ve gone too far.
“I’m warning you. Don’t do that again.”
His jaw tightens as black shadows wind around my body, tight and without any room to wiggle free. But it doesn’t stop there—the shadow ropes wrap around my face, gagging me so that not even my muffled scream can be heard as he lifts me over his shoulder again.
Once we’re inside the castle, Ashland kicks open my chamber door, much to the chagrin of the waiting sentry. He unceremoniously deposits me on the mattress, covering it in mud, twigs, and debris as my bindings disappear into wisps. Pointing a finger at my scowling face, he orders, “Stay.”
All I can do is stare at him as he retreats.
The adjoining door slams, rattling the wall between our rooms, as he enters his suite. Adele’s voice is muffled behind the wood paneling. Their conversation turns guarded and sharp.
Whatever I’ve interrupted by running away hasn’t finished—and Adele now seems inclined to voice her entitlement to it. “What do you mean I’m not welcome in your chambers anymore?”
“It’s not a good idea. Not right now. Not with her here.”
I clamp my hands over my ears, oscillating between wanting to and not wanting to listen, but not before I hear: “So, you’re really going to choose her over what we have? Who cares what she thinks? She’s not important.”
“She is important. That’s the fucking problem,” Ashland argues, his voice laced with cold fury.
“No, the problem is that she’s going to figure it out. Secrets don’t stay secrets forever.”
“If she does, she does. It won’t change anything.”
My fingertips push on my ears, but I can still hear them growing more heated until she’s shouting, and he’s freezing her with silence.
Their argument moves from his chambers to the corridors to the courtyard as he takes her tongue-lashing and sarcastic barbs. Sitting at the window bench, I pull my knees up to my chest and watch him load her supplies and prepare for her entourage’s departure into the newly fallen night.
Ashland peers up at me. With the barest tilt of his head, he causes a black mist to envelop the panes of my window, partially fogging my sight.
I hold my breath as I try to decipher the shrouded shapes, squinting through the darkness.
With Ashland’s back to me, I’m unable to make out his movements as Adele leans down from atop her horse and either kisses him or says something close to his face before shoving a small bundle at him.
A long moment passes, and then she trots away.