Page 73 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

Sure, she’s a crazy old mare who couldn’t stand me before she begrudgingly came to like me, but I have to give credit where it’s due—she’s relentless when it comes to keeping up with a monoceros.

Farmland stretches on either side of the road. A few barns dot the landscape, but there’s no sign of any people.

I lead the horses off the road to a stream running along a pasture where they can drink their fill. I dismount straight into the stream, boots splashing in the shallow water, and crouch down to cup water around the back of my neck.

The coolness soothes my heated skin but does nothing to calm the storm inside me.

Damn you, Rian.Back at Hekkelveld Castle, rage wanted to burn through me like wildfire, but now, in the quiet of the pasture, it’s choked out by blind faith—something I’ve never operated on before. The feeling is both terrifying and exhilarating, stepping off a cliff and trusting the wind to catch you.

Sabine? She’s my wind.

She’s myeverything—my redemption, my revenge, my future. It may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done to put my faith in a woman I can’t remember, who the rest of the world branded a traitor. But for the first time in my life, I’m going to follow my heart.

Leaving the horses to drink, I park my ass on the grassy bank, then unstrap my wrist guard and run my fingers over the scars that spell out S-A-B-I-N-E.

Goosebumps ripple across the skin.

Next, I take the letter Suri gave me out of my knapsack. A smile tugs the corner of my mouth as I open it to reread thirteen-year-old Sabine’s handwriting, which conveys a hopeful spirit that I can’t help but believe she still has at twenty-two.

Then, I pull out my old shirt that Sabine must have borrowed. I can’t resist burying my face in it, hungry for a scrap of that feather-light trace of her scent. A burst of violets fills my nose, as intoxicating as gin.

I mutter to myself, “Only an idiot would believe in fated mates, Wolf.”

Which makes you an idiot, friend.

Shaking my head, I chuckle softly at my own bull-headedness as I set the shirt aside.

Lastly, I fish Rian’s locket out and cradleit in my palm.

The golden “S” on the front winks in the dappled sunlight, tugging at some hidden corner of my heart. My mind screams at me to think logically about this senseless quest, but my heart? My heart is certain.

Her name on my arm.

The letter.

The shirt with her scent.

The locket.

That’s all I need to lead me to this woman who I’ve dreamed about every night, tossing and turning, groaning with a visceral need to hold her.

The horses snort nearby, oblivious to my turmoil. I shift, trying to get comfortable on the streambank, but my body is too keyed up. Every muscle feels coiled tight, ready to spring. The knowledge that she’s out there makes my pulse quicken.

I’m coming, Sabine.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a sharp stomp to the tip of my boot.

“Ow!” Clutching my boot, I shoot Tòrr an incredulous glare. “Stop doing that! You broke another damn toe!”

He stamps his hoof next to words he’s written in a patch of damp soil beside the stream.

U-P L-A-Z-Y

“Lazy? Look, humans require this thing called rest. And two other extravagances called food and water. And if we’re feeling really excessive? Coffee.”

I wrench my cooking pot out of my knapsack to wave in his face.

Tòrr blasts steam as he stomps off toward Myst, tossing his mane and pacing until she admonishes his frivolity with a swift smack of her head against his.

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