Page 8 of Oath of Rebellion

Chapter 3

EIRWYN LOOKED UP AT the giant man on the giant horse and blinked as the late summer sun filtered through the leaves. They hit his head to form a halo of light around him, but with the way his hood was pulled up, she could only barely see his faintly glowing green eyes and the angular features.

His big frame caused his green shirt to bulge, the vee with the leather drawstring revealing a tuft of brown hair. Her fingers itched to touch him, and she waved her hand in a circular motion.

A small gust of wind pushed his cloak back, and she eyed the rest of him. Gods, his thighs were as thick as tree trunks. The only drawback on this man was how dirty his boots and pants were. She wasn't a fan of dirt.

The magic faded, as she wavered on her feet. She must be more exhausted from the carriage accident than she'd thought. She just hoped she hadn't used too much magic. It was a good sign that she could still stand and talk though, so she'd probably be alright.

When the carriage had hit the tree, she'd used her air and illusion magic to form a type of bubble around them until they stopped moving. Her heart had raced but not really with fear.

It had raced with excitement and magic flowing through her veins. She'd never formed a physical bubble before. All her projections were always just made of light.

If only her fussy old magic teachers could see her now. She was soaking up every moment of this adventure and was slightly glad it wasn't over yet.

But now her heart raced with something more. She reached for his hand, then pulled back as she remembered.

"Oh, our bags. Let me put these with Helga, that way your poor horse won't be overburdened even more."

She almost jogged over to Helga, but stumbled as she reached her. She tucked the two shoulder bags around her to form a type of barrier to keep her from rolling off the litter. Then she turned back to the man.

He looked so mysterious in his dark green cloak with the hood pulled up. He stared at her with such an intensity it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She was used to people staring at her. She was the princess and her brother often paraded her out at court and at balls. And even when she went to the tavern to sneak out for a fun time, she was used to all eyes on her as she told shadow stories and entertained the people.

But the way he looked at her made her feel alive with desire on a level she'd never experienced before. And she was plenty experienced.

Hells, she'd even tried to seduce the prince of Glathen in order to negotiate the treaty. Ultimately, the Counsellor that had gone with them had shot down any chance of the treaty going into effect.

"Princess?" The stranger asked with his deep voice that felt like a caress on her skin. "I think you should ride in front, so I can more easily protect you from the forest."

She blinked and realized she'd been caught staring at him, daydreaming yet again. She smiled and blushed, then she took his hand. A jolt of lightning shot up her arm, making her gasp up at him. His eyebrows rose in surprise. Did he feel it too?

Her hair began to stand on end, and she struggled to control her magic even as she stepped into the stirrup and climbed in front of him.

She sat side-saddle and wiggled to hook her knee around the pommel. She was the princess, for drake's sake. She needed to stop being a klutz, control her magic, and act like it.

Ugh, she was making such a bad first impression with this guy. She held herself stiffly as he turned the horse to follow Scarlet through the forest.

"This is awkward, isn't it? I bet you don't rescue a lot of princesses in the forest like this."

His voice brushed the hair near her ear as he said, "No, you're the first. But you can ride astride if it'll make you more comfortable."

She grinned and shifted, swinging her leg over the horse and exposing her calves. "Wonderful. I love riding astride!"

He made a strangled noise, then he cleared it. "You've ridden astride before?"

She nodded, smoothing down her skirts and trying to brush off the dirt. "When I race my horse. Can't do that side-saddle, of course."

"You race your horse?"

She nodded and shifted on the saddle, feeling his knife digging into her rear. "Yes, she's really fast and light-footed. Not like this guy. He's a brute. What's his name?"

"Ryder."

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