Page 54 of Bound By Darkness

His fingers spread enough for me to grab hold as he hauled me onto the saddle.

I adjusted slightly against the leather, angling myself forward onto the pommel to avoid unnecessary contact with the Fae male behind me. My efforts were rendered useless as he reached around me, his hands resting on my thighs as he grippedthe leather reins.

His muscles flexed as he tugged on the leather straps, Beau turning in response.

“How badly do you want to piss him off?” Fin whispered in my ear as it tickled my slightly flushed skin from the summer air.

“What do you mean?” I whispered back, my eyes fixated on the mist drifting in and out from the tree line in waves.

“Do you want to get back at him? For what he’s made you do? Continues to make you do?”

My fingers ran over the hard leather. Is that what I was doing? Getting back at him for yelling at me? For spilling secrets I knew he had warned me to keep silent?

I knew I was in the wrong—for going against his advice, but the nagging feeling in my stomach remained as I said, “I’m listening.”

Fin’s chin rested against my shoulder as he whispered the sentence into my ear as Beau shifted.

“That’s—”

My gaze floated to Ivan’s. His jaw clenched tightly as his hands fisted the black reins. They turned a shade purple as he averted his eyes, and a twinge of guilt rested in my stomach.

“Ah, there it is.” Fin chuckled against my ear, bits of stubble scratching against it. “A man who does not like to share his property.”

Chapter 17

Bitter Vices

MORIA

Morning announceditself with torrential rain that plopped to the ground in thick globs, shrouding the mountain in a hazy mist. Droplets plunked against my wet skin, my feet slipping with each step as I descended from the mountain cave.

The upturned dirt churned to mud that clung to the soles of my feet.

The path narrowed as slaves huddled close for warmth, frost hugging each exhale in the Galar mountain range as the rain bit colder than Raha during Solstice.

Walking down the torrential path, my foot slipped on a particularly slick patch of mud, nearly careening me over the edge as a few rocks broke from the winding path.

My breath caught in my lungs as I straightened.

One slip and I’d tumble over the edge of Galar’s cliffs. There would be no surviving. My body would splatter like one of my father’s paintings.

Being extra careful of where I stepped, I glanced between the ground and the people in front of me. We moved as onebody… one massive collection as the path widened into the heart of the mountain.

It made the trek dangerous, but it was a necessary evil for food and water.

Something hard slammed into me, my head throbbing as I rubbed the tender spot. The line had stopped moving, and I had collided with the man in front of me, his shirt adhering to his skeleton frame; water pooled in the dips of his collarbones.

Rain dripped from my eyelashes as I curved my head around the tall figure. There was nothing among the fog and rain as it smacked into the earth.

Nothing.

It also didn’t help I was the shortest one here, my head barely meeting the man’s lower torso. I hated being short for two reasons—no one took me seriously, and it made me an easy target for men to prey on.

“Hurry up!” someone screamed from behind, their voice echoing above the collective mass.

“Why have we stopped?” I muttered, my eyes scanning the area. The mist made it increasingly difficult to see as if I was looking through smudged glass.

“I’m not sure,” the man I collided with replied. His eyes squinted as he brushed water from his face.

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