Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“No.”
“You think I won’t carry you like that? Because I will.”
I kicked the sheets back and got to my feet. “If your father were still on the throne in Delacroix, nothing would be different down here. People would still be consumed as fuel, and they would suffer in this life as well as the afterlife. You’re pissed that my father has abandoned everyone down here—but your family did the exact same thing. This isn’t about justice. This is about keeping the status quo. As long as you’re on top, nothing else matters.”
His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were merciless—like he’d never been so angry.
“That’s not the same thing as saying your family deserved what happened to them, because I’m not.”
My eyes flicked back and forth as I looked into his, waiting for him to come back to me. “Imagining that happening to you…it breaks my heart—”
“This was a mistake.”
“What…?”
“Whatever the fuck this is. It’s a mistake.”
My heart ripped open with a slash, and the blood poured out.
He threw the clothes at my face. “Let’s go.”
THIRTEEN
Huntley
The storm was about to hit.
You could tell by the wind—because there was none. There was no game on the plains, no birds in the trees, nothing. Nature sensed its approach and ducked for cover. Work would cease, and everyone at the outpost would hunker down until it passed.
I sat inside the bar and drank alone, ignoring the conversations around me, all about the impending storm.
I would normally invite a whore or two to pass the time, but I wasn’t interested in that right now.
Ian stepped inside, found me at my own table, and joined me.
The barmaid immediately ran over and served him his usual.
His cloak was set on the back of his chair, and he sat in his black armor, ready for battle at any moment. “You think they’ll come?”
“Hope not. I’m fucking tired.”
“The scouts haven’t reported signs of them.”
“Because they would travel in the storm, not before.”
“So, you do think they’re coming.”
I took a drink. “Expect the worst. Hope for the best.”
He turned his stare on me directly now, his eyes combing my face for clues.
“What?”
“Anything you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“Nothing about the prisoner?”
I turned to him and met his look head on.
“Come on, you know I wouldn’t tell her.”
My hand returned to my mug, and I pulled it closer to me. “It’s over now, so it doesn’t matter.”
“What happened?”
I gave a shrug, at a loss for words. “Reality.”
“I assumed you were just fucking.”
“We were.”
“Then what does reality have to do with that?”
I stared into my glass, unable to find a response.
Ian dropped the subject and looked away. “Maybe I should come on your trek after all.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I just don’t trust her not to slip a blade between your ribs.”
“She knows she’d die without me, so unless she’s on a suicide mission, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Ian pulled his glass closer and took a drink. “How long do you think the storm will last? Last time, it was five days.”
I ignored what he said because I hated playing the guessing game. “When Delacroix was ours, we never opened our borders to the Runes or anybody else. Why?”
Ian slowly turned to me. “Could be a lot of reasons.”
“Such as?”
“How would we get people up and down? There’s scaffolding, but there’s not enough scaffolding in the world to make that feasible.”
“We could have built a tunnel—like we did. Mother didn’t make that suggestion when she was up there, but it came to her pretty quickly down here.”
He studied me for a while. “Sounds like this girl is putting bullshit in your head.”
“I wouldn’t call it bullshit…no.”
“I know Mother and Father had their reasons, and I trust that. Her family could have scaled the wall and made a life in our lands without being discovered. Instead, they staged a coup, not just to overthrow us, but to rape and murder us. We have every right to seek our revenge and take back what’s ours. Don’t let her tell you otherwise.”
The wind started to pick up. The trees shook. Snow began to fall from the sky. The temperature dropped.
I sat at my desk and stared at my fire, my bottle in hand, and tried not to think about that windowless cabin with a cold hearth. Her needs would be the first thing to be abandoned. They probably wouldn’t bring her food for days.
I had no idea why I cared.
I shouldn’t care.
Fuck her.
I took another drink and then heard the wind howl, heard the branches bend to its bite. My door was a solid piece of wood, but it rattled on its hinges when the wind hit it just right. I looked out the window and saw the snow streak past like hail.
Fuck her.
The door rattled again, and even the flames in my hearth dimmed briefly because the wind rushed through the chimney.