Page 167 of A Bond in Blood

I ripped the knife across the rope, watching while the threads split. Bjorn’s boat did not move, and I wondered what I had done wrong, when Ulrich’s cold was beside me. His shadow knife was gone from my hands, and I stared while the shadows crawled across the docks, shoving against the boat and sending it out to the water.

“Banishment!” Ulrich’s voice shouted. “You will never return to these shores.”

Bjorn didn’t reply, but he kept his eyes on me. I steadied my breath while I watched him float away until the mist opened for the boat and he disappeared off in the distance.

My shoulders relaxed once the mist fell again, allowing Bjorn to turn into a distant memory.

“How did that feel?” Ulrich whispered beside me.

I met his eyes, finding intrigue in his gaze.

I lifted my shoulders. “I do not know,” I admitted.

Olen’s jingling earrings rattled behind me and I turned on my heel, meeting his eyes.

“You didn’t cut his throat for calling you a whore,” he laughed.

Ulrich’s responding laugh instantly irritated me, and I threw my hands up in defeat.

“You both ruin everything with your jests.”

“Or we make your life more entertaining,” Olen replied.

“Irritating,” I replied with a smile.

Ulrich pressed his chest against my back, and he pulled me against him. His hand brushed my cheek, causing me to tremble. My vision blurred slightly from his touch, clouding the faces of his sneering citizens watching us.

“I will take the irritation,” he muttered. “It’s better than the rage.”

“I thought you approved of my hate,” I replied.

He pressed further against me and his hand landed against my lower stomach. “I said nothing about the hate.”

I gulped and my hand went to his. Then, like a madwoman, I held it against me, pressing my palm against the top of his hand.

“That hate is addictive, remember?” he whispered into my ear.

I nodded my head in agreement, unsure how we had gotten here and why it was so strangely comfortable.

I left Ulrich and Olen on the dock while I made my way back to the bedroom, exhausted from the high emotions of sending Bjorn away.

When I opened the door, my eyes went to the closet. Where my trunks were tucked away at the back.

My gaze went back to the hallway, and I prayed neither man had followed me. I closed the bedroom door slowly and slippedinto the closet. My breaths were heavy while I lifted the lid of my deepest chest and peered inside.

To those unknowing, it appeared to be full of dresses I had not yet pulled out. But to the woman who knew this trunk intimately, my eyes found the hidden compartment easily.

My hands trembled while I lifted the gowns and then pulled on the clasp at the bottom. As quickly as I could, I lifted the papers, a handful of letters I had penned to Titania in moments of panic months before.

Words that I knew would change everything if Ulrich were to find them.

I stared at my ink. At the hate that still lived in my heart. The hate that was slowly unraveling to something different. Something I could not fully understand.

I leaned against the trunk, holding the papers out, contemplating my next move.

The door opened, startling me and they slipped from my grasp.

“No!” I whispered, but I was too late.

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