Chapter 14 #2
Stepping into the busy street, I trailed after his tall figure looming over the populace.
Crisp air had me pulling my cloak tighter to me, fog lacing through the top of the trees and buildings, dimming the already dusky light.
The sun hid behind the mountains, playing hide and seek, teasing at the horizon but never showing itself.
“Come get it while it’s hot!” a man bellowed from a stall.
Old, dehydrated carcasses of animals with sharp fangs the size of my head hung by their feet on a long stick.
The man stood over a fire with a sizzling pan, chopping up pieces, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, his front tooth missing.
“Hot, fresh horned gopher!” he sang out to anyone walking by. “Just got them today!”
“Authentic relics from the Battle of Blood!” another man shouted out, jerking my head the opposite way.
He held objects up in his hand, and a few on a small table in front of him.
“Get real artifacts straight from the battleground! Genuine battle armor from a Night Raven! A bone from the last Leatherwings! A broken blade from the King of the Day Ravens!”
The mention of my father slowed my steps, my attention going to the piece of metal he held in his hand. Was that my father’s? My desperation to be back home, to be close to him again, drew me closer to the article.
“Nope.” A hand touched my back, curving me in another direction. “He’s a peddler, kanin. All of it is rubbish.” His voice spoke close to my ear. “Probably a blade he stole off someone yesterday.”
While we were darting around horses, wagons, people, peddlers, vendors, and what looked like a gambling hound fight, I noticed Onyx was on high alert, his head swinging around like he was searching for someone, his eyes taking in every person and dark corner.
“Here.” He peered around, stopping us in front of a table.
“Seriously?” I gritted my back teeth, glaring down at the metal objects displayed. A mixture of plates, cups, and horse bits to manacles and chains. “Fuck you.” I set off, but his arm swept me back to the table.
“You’ve proven I can’t trust you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not a willing victim,” I mocked. “Forgive me for trying to get back home, where I’m not being kidnapped and used as leverage to start a war. How inexcusable!”
“You think you weren’t being kidnapped and used as leverage before?” He scoffed. “What was your marriage to that kuksuger then?” His shoulders rose. “Your father was marrying you off for weapons and sending you away.”
“For my safety!” I spat back. “From people like you!”
“Safety?” He snorted. “To a southern village with less trained military and protection than the Silvervale castle?” He rocked back on his heel. “Plus, why now?”
“What?”
“There’s no convoy heading to the Day Realm, no Night Raven soldiers beating down the castle walls. He clearly didn’t think someone like me could be a threat.” He tilted his head. “So why the sudden rush to marry you off?”
“My birthday is coming. He wanted to hide me before then.”
“Why so quickly? You’d think the marriage to the White Raven would be an elaborate affair.”
“Making a big deal out of my wedding would only cause attention.” I felt the urge to defend my father, to explain his reasoning, even if I was the one who needed to understand.
My nineteenth birthday was when the White Raven was foretold to come to power. The king never explained how it would happen, but with me by his side, we would rule the entire realm.
King Helvig wanted the same, wanted to have me as a pawn for power. My kidnapper knew that. It was why he was taking me north before the one hundred and ninety-ninth anniversary of the battle, which was on the day I turned nineteen.
Nine was a powerful number to us. It represented the end of a cycle and the start of a new one, of transformation, signaling the final stages of a journey before a new phase arises.
It would also be the day when life as I knew it would cease.
Yet, up to the day he told me I was betrothed, my father was very against me getting married.
What made him change his mind so quickly?
The night in his office flashed back into my head, the paperwork that traded me for thousands of weapons. The report suggested nothing about fighting the north, or any threats from King Helvig, but about advancing Day troops toward the Shallow Fields in the west.
When the last of the Leatherwings blood was absorbed into the battlefield, the deities cracked down lightning and fury, cursing us and the soil we bled into.
The Shallow Fields was where it all started, and according to the seers it was where we needed to be to break the curse.
But why head there so far in advance? Why marry me off now, when my birthday was only months away?
“Your father trained you to fight well enough but kept you innocent in everything else.”
“To fight well enough?” I exclaimed. “I saved your life! Twice!”
“Debatable.” He shrugged one shoulder, a hint of a cheeky smile on his lips.
“You still have a hole in your shoulder.”
“So, clearly you didn’t do a good enough job saving me.”
“You almost lost your head!”
“Thankfully it wasn’t the other head.” He tilted his head smugly. “Now that would have been a true travesty.”
“Fucking jaevel.” Bastard. I huffed, crossing my arms.
He chuckled under his breath, the smile fully releasing, hitching up his mouth to reveal a slight dimple in one cheek.
It hit me like a cart, whooshing out air.
Onyx was rough and masculine, but there was dark beauty in his structure and deep scars. Something that drank from my soul and throbbed through my tattoo. I turned away, denying the warmth spilling in my veins, the birds flapping in my stomach.
Something is really, really wrong with you, Wren. Do not forget who he is. What he did to you.
“I’ll take these.” He picked up metal cuffs, dropping coins into the seller’s hand.
“No, those.” I pointed to more expensive ones, the metal a pretty bronze.
Onyx’s eyebrow lifted.
“What, elskugi?” Lover. I pouted, batting my eyes at Onyx, putting on a show for the vendor.
“I don’t get a say in my own restraints?
” I purred. “Like the way you tied me up last night and had your way with me? You know your former lover could hear our bedframe hitting the wall . . . over and over. Hear my cries for mercy . . .”
He inhaled sharply, the muscle in his cheek twitching. He nodded to the vendor, pocketing the cheaper cuffs, while his other hand pressed at my lower back, steering me away from the table.
“Guess I don’t deserve the nicer manacles?”
“Sounds like you need another lesson, kanin,” he gritted through his teeth.
“And it sounds to me like you need another reminder you almost had your head chopped off,” I hissed, dropping my saccharine tone. “I’m surprised you didn’t get a muzzle too. Keeping me bound in chains until you reach your master.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He peered around, again searching for something. “But I won’t muzzle you.” His attention dropped on me for a moment. “I like hearing you scream in pain, kanin.”
My throat tightened, warmth flushing up to my cheeks and down my legs.
Smirking, his gaze drifted behind me. His entire demeanor altered, his back going straight, any humor dropping from his face.
I curved my head around, trying to find the reason for the shift.
My focus bounced around the bustling activity, landing on a hooded figure in the shadows.
The face was hidden, but by his wide stance and shoulders, I could tell it was a man.
“Stay here.” Onyx’s order swung me back around. “Can you do that for five minutes? Just stand here and not get into trouble?”
“You’re leaving me here?” I blinked up at him. “How do you know I won’t take the opportunity to escape?”
“Because.” He bent closer, his mouth skimming my ear, his fingers grazing over my raw ink.
“Deep down you know it’s useless to run.
There is nowhere you can go I won’t find you.
So, stand right here, and don’t move.” He brushed by me, striding for the hooded form.
I watched him stop in front of the man. I could make out them talking, then the hooded figure turned and walked down a narrow alley.
Onyx peered back at me, his jaw clenched, his gaze drilling into me, demanding I stay put, before he followed the man into the passage.
Part of me wanted to follow, to see what he was up to, but the other part wanted to defy his orders and run anyway. It would be a pointless mission—my gut knew I wouldn’t get far—but I wasn’t going to stand here like an obedient dog.
Turning, I blended into the hustle of the street.
Men, women, and kids went about their business, grouping around fires, drinking, buying stuff from the limited vendors, or playing gambling games on makeshift tables.
In some ways, it wasn’t any different than the markets in Silvervale.
It was strange to find that in the place you were told was barbaric and savage.
Your mind never imagined they were just people trying to make it through the day too.
Laughs and cheers drew me down the lane to a puppet show.
Children and adults crowded around the small doll-size stage and a man crouched over it with marionettes.
Drawing up closer, I noticed the two puppets had yellow strings for hair and white paper crowns on their heads.
One was dressed like a king with a robe, and the other one was a girl, dressed in white.
My stomach sank.
“Let them all starve!” the puppet king declared as he threw food to the puppet dogs next to him. The resemblance to Iskald and Runa could not be discounted.
The crowd booed in unison.
“Oh Father . . . you are the best king in the world!” the girl squealed in a high-pitched voice. “Because that’s what you tell me.”
The crowd laughed. I did not.
There was no doubt the girl was me.