Chapter 14
The downstairs buzzed with the same energy it had earlier, voices humming, men and women dancing as though time did not matter here.
Even in continual light, the Day Realm had a structure of day and night, when the village would sleep and rise to start a new day.
In the Shadow Rift, it didn’t seem to matter.
Drunken songs and shouts muddled with the cries of babies, clanking of dishes, and clatter of boots across the wood floor. After last night and what had just happened, my nerves were exposed and raw, blistering like the tattoo on my chest.
I was jumpy and self-aware, like the whole room was staring at me, beholding the humiliation of the fallen White Raven, taking delight in the demise of someone who grew up so privileged.
Yet no one looked twice; the girl with silver hair and marks down her chest was nothing more than a thrall here.
Someone sold to him from a street auction.
The Northerner weaved us over to a quieter corner, as if he knew I couldn’t handle the bombardment of noise, my system jumpy and frazzled. The people were stifling, their lightheartedness in direct opposition to my emotions, prickling irritation at the back of my neck.
“Sit.” He threw my cloak on the stool, nodding at it.
Shakily, I lowered down, having no energy to fight.
He watched me critically, sitting across from me, a furrow between his brows.
“I wouldn’t have let him touch you.”
My head dipped, staring at the scrapes in my palms.
“That’s never happened to you before?” Surprise rang in the timbre of his voice.
My lips pressed together. There were some high lords who would visit the king, alcohol bolstering their already inflated egos.
They would corner me at a gala, getting handsy and assertive, but I never felt scared.
Easily reminding them who I was and knowing my guards were feet away.
Protection surrounded me and my handmaidens at all times.
The only threat was the possibility of a Night Raven attack.
We were ready for a battle. For them to come head-on.
We weren’t prepared for the fight to be nothing more than a simple move on the chessboard.
A thrall we had stationed in our own walls.
“You think it’s him I’m upset about?” I dropped my hands, pinning my barbed words at my assailant. “That he’s the monster here?”
His mouth pinned together in a flat line, the muscle in his jaw twitching. We stared each other down, lost in a war no one else was waging.
“What can I get you?” The familiar woman’s voice broke through our silent battle.
Frida came to a stop before us, her mouth parting at seeing my tablemate.
Her brunette hair was down, braided on one side, her bodice exposing more of her breasts, as though she took extra care today.
“Onyx . . .” she breathed out, her cheeks pinkening. “I was hoping to see you this morning.”
Irritation surged up my throat, my spine straightened, my chin lifting. Fury crackled at her voice, her softness for the monster across from me, at even hearing his name.
My movement caught her attention, flicking her gaze to me.
She went utterly still. Her eyes dropped to the marks inked down my neck.
A small gasp hitched up her throat, her mouth parting.
She reared back to Onyx, her expression pained and confused.
Her form recoiling, as if she had been punched, when she took notice of the red, irritated skin on his hand.
“You—you—”
“Just food this morning.” He cut her off, not responding to her reaction. He acted blasé, though I could tell he was uncomfortable. His shoulders were stiff, his fingers absently flicking at the knot embedded in the wooden table.
Frida didn’t move, devastation blinking her lids, her mouth quivering as she peered between us.
“Thank you,” he stated firmly.
She dipped her head, a tear escaping her eye as she twirled around and darted off, slipping into the jubilant crowd.
“Huginn and Muninn. What did you do to her?”
His glare leveled me.
“Well, you were rude,” I said, though it was me who sounded insolent.
“She was really upset.” I stared after the retreating woman, yanking at the dirty bodice, trying to hide any of my newly acquired tattoos, which felt like they screamed from my chest in a chorus.
“Why would she be so hurt over a thrall tattoo?”
“That is my business. Not something a thrall needs to know.”
“Clearly you had her believing whatever was between you was more.” I defied his cold tone, which told me he wanted to end this conversation. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Frida, even if part of me considered she made her own bed to lie in. What did she expect from someone like him?
“I had her believing and worshipping a lot of things that night.” He leaned over the table, his glare on me. “But I never led her on. They all know where they stand. I only fuck. Hard and all night. Nothing more.”
Flames sizzled up my back, my throat struggling to swallow, the memory of how my body responded to his, the feeling of him hot and pulsating against my stomach. How easily it could have crossed over into experiencing it for myself.
Bowls of food dropped in front of us, and I gladly took the interruption.
“Here.” An older woman snarled at Onyx. “Food.”
“Signe.” He nodded at the short, stout woman, the resemblance to Frida in her eyes and nose.
She glared harder. “You leavin’?”
“One more night.”
She huffed, folding her arms, not happy at his answer.
One more night? I figured we’d be moving on, getting to the Night Realm as soon as possible.
“Pay now or get the fuck out.” She held out her hand.
He licked his lips, hiding a smile. Pulling coins out of his pocket, he dropped them into her waiting palm.
She glowered at the money and him, like she was hoping he wouldn’t have the capital.
“You bother Frida again, and I’ll run you out of this town myself,” she barked, swiveling on her heel and marching away.
“Figuring that’s Momma?” I snorted, dragging the steaming bowl closer. “She doesn’t like you very much.” I poked my spoon at the identical porridge from the night before, my nose curling from the overcooked oats.
“Not that one, at least.” He scooped up a mouthful.
We quietly ate for a long time, as my curiosity grew with every moment, wondering more about his past.
“What about your mother?”
“My mother?” The spoon stopped at his lips, tension rolling over him. “What about her?”
“I figure you had one.” I pushed against the barrier he was putting up. “Where is she?”
“Dead.” He stared boldly at me, shoving food into his mouth.
“Sorry.” I did the same, muttering between bites.
It still tasted awful, but the need for nutrients overrode any desire for flavor.
“Me too.” He probably knew that. Paintings of Queen Elsara hung all over the castle, preserved in her youthful beauty.
I would get sympathy and anecdotes from those who knew her, but they didn’t realize she was nothing more than a pretty image to me. A stranger.
I never knew my mother.
“Father?”
His lips thinned at my continued inquiries.
“Siblings?”
“Dead,” he muttered.
“Wife? Children?”
He dropped the spoon in his empty bowl, abruptly standing up. “Come on.”
“What? Wait!” I peered down at my half-eaten porridge. “I’m not done.”
“You should’ve thought of that before running your mouth instead.” He reached over, his fingers cupping under my armpit and pulling me to my feet, throwing my soiled cloak over me. “I have some business before venturing on north. Items to get.”
“Like what?” I twisted in his grip, my mood wanting nothing more than to annoy the fuck out of him. “More tattoo ink? Another thrall to kidnap, mutilate, and torture?”
“No . . .” He yanked us through the crowd. “Purchasing metal cuffs and a muzzle for the one I already have.”
The main street was lively with activity, the lane brimming with horses and carts. The smells of cooking meat, horse manure, urine, and body odor hung thick like fog over the town. I burrowed further back into my hood, using it to buffer the strong aromas.
A few horses were tied to the hitching post outside the inn, drinking water and eating the hay in the trough, but I noticed the draugrhest was missing from where we left it. It also made me wonder about the poor little groundling. I hoped he was all right.
“Stay close, kanin,” the Northerner muttered to me, stalking forward.
“You know I have a name, right?” I stood in place, folding my arms.
He glanced back at me, showing no emotion.
“Fluffy have better luck than I and make a run for it?” I motioned to the empty spot.
Onyx stepped up to me, his body flattening into mine, his heat soaking through the wool of my wrap. A shiver ran through my body as he reached over, tucking my hair under the cloak.
“Unlike you . . .” His fingers grazed near the tattoo on my neck.
“I would never tie up a draugrhest.” The memory of him securing me to the bed frame, his taut physique straddling me, pinning me down under him.
My heart ticked quicker against my ribs.
“And I only give silly pet names to things I own.” He turned and strode into the street, the hum in my blood breaking into ice.
Fuck. That. Man.
Anger and humiliation gurgled in my throat, ready to emerge in a scream. My knuckles cracked, nails digging into my palms. I breathed in and out, fantasizing about grabbing that knife on his belt, the one he’d tied me with, and stabbing the shit out of him.
He didn’t even bother glancing back to see if I followed. He knew I would.
A repressed noise strained my vocal cords, aggravation screaming in my head.
I had nowhere to go and nobody I could trust.