Page 9 of Glow of the Everflame

“Because you didn’t think I would come with you, or because you planned to kill me first?”

He walked past me without responding.

The horse was an enormous beast, its back rising nearly a head above me. It had a glossy white coat that gleamed like starlight in the evening darkness, marred only by a tuft of black on its head.

As I admired the beautiful creature, I felt a tug at the hem of my memory. Something about it seemed familiar. But that was impossible—I’d never seen a horse likethisbefore.

Its saddle was predictably ostentatious, embroidered in brightly colored patterns and studded with precious stones throughout. A crimson saddlecloth of quilted silk hung with tassels of miniature pearls, and solid gold stirrups dangled at the sides. Like so many Descended-made objects, it was stunningly beautiful—and impractical to the point of absurd.

I swallowed my mocking comments, if only because I was too busy scoffing at the hand Luther offered to help me mount. With a considerable amount of effort and a mortifying grunt, I managed to heave myself up and over the saddle.

I stiffened as his hand grazed across my hips to grip the saddle’s ivory horn between my open thighs. In one fluid, graceful movement, he mounted and seated himself behind me.

The curve of the saddle forced our bodies to slide together, his muscular thighs pressed tightly to my own. His arms slipped around my waist to reach for the reins, and as he leaned forward, his chin nestled against my temple.

The familiar scent of him overwhelmed me. He should have smelled like wealth. He should have reeked of exotic incense and spices no mortal could ever afford, all the hallmarks of his privileged status.

Instead, his intoxicating musk hinted at cedar, leather, and moss. He smelled like the forest—my favorite place in the world, the only place I felt truly alive.

He smelled likehome.

It made me hate him even more.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.”

His arms tightened around me anyway, and I barely managed to hold back a groan at how nice the searing heat of him felt as it seeped through my soggy clothes.

He nudged the horse into a trot. Our bodies rocked together in a steady rhythm with no chance at putting any distance between us. His hips ground relentlessly against mine, made worse by the way he seemed to pull me closer, closer, closer. I felt every swell of his chest as he breathed, heard every thunderous beat of his heart—racing even faster than my own.

I wondered if he, like me, was plagued with memories of our last interaction: his hands on my waist and my blade at his throat—then his lips on my mouth and my fingers in his hair.

Guilt washed through me as I thought of Henri. Though we’d never been officially courting, his marriage proposal had left no question that he believed we were more than casual lovers. If he knew about that kiss...

Then again, that might be theleastof our worries. No one hated the Descended more than Henri. He might drop to his knees and thank the Old Gods for revealing my monstrous nature before he had chained himself to me in marriage.

Hot tears pricked at my eyes. Despite the rift that had formed between us, I was not ready to lose Henri from my life—and certainly not for some Crown I had no intention of keeping.

I was grateful for the wind that whipped at my face and dried away the evidence of my emotion. Every part of my life was a hot, steaming disaster, but I was determined to keep my confident facade in front of Luther and whoever awaited me at the end of this ride.

We cut a sharp turn, and Luther’s hand slid lower to grip my hip and hold me steady. My protests couldn’t quite take form in words amid the maddening brush of his lips against the shell of my ear.

The path straightened, and the horse broke into a gallop. My hair whirled in the breeze, tickling Luther’s face, and he gently tucked it behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin as they trailed the curve of my neck. This time I could not blame the cold for the shiver that rolled down my spine.

As our pace quickened, my eyes caught on a flash of light where strands of golden tinsel had been woven into the horse’s silky mane. An old conversation floated to the surface of my thoughts.

The biggest horse I’ve ever seen. I’ll never forget it. White as snow, with a patch of black between its eyes, and as tall as a house. Gold ribbon in its mane.

The realization struck. I knew why this horse seemed familiar. I hadn’t seen it before—but Henri had.

He’d watched the horse and its cruel rider trample a mortal boy to death in Lumnos City, a tragedy that had inspired him to join the Guardians’ war against the Descended.

When I told him the boy was dead, he sat there in his gold and finery and he looked at that boy’s corpse like it was nothing. He just brushed the dust off his horse and rode away.

Luther—it wasLutherHenri had seen,Lutherwho slaughtered that boy without feeling.

My blood boiled so hot, it might have been steaming. I fixated on the horse’s hooves flying across the gravel beneath me—hooves that had stomped the life out of an innocent child.

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