Page 35 of The Stolen Bride

Bodi pulled a thin cloth parka from a backpack andtossed it to his king, who secured the material around my shoulders with an ornate clasp at the neck. It was shockingly hot, with a soft fur lining, and oh, I loved it.

After a signal from Viktor, we marched forward, leaving the relative safety of the stone circle to enter this new forest filled with overlarge snakes, spiders and two headed squirrels.

And just like that, I was officially done with the woodland setting.

I remained on high alert, on the hunt for anything suspicious. Near silence provided an eerie soundtrack when compared to the verdant life found in Viktor’s lands. Instead of birdsong and the babble of a stream, I detected the hollow crunch of snow underfoot. Rather than the vibrant colors of wildflowers and trees heavy with green leaves, a monochrome backdrop of frost painted a picture of despair.

The only sight I enjoyed sprang from the too brief moments I observed Viktor from my periphery. Though he still hovered at the edge of a break, he provided a visual feast for a starving pet groomer. White hair in utter disarray. Green eyes sharp, watchful. Jaw clenched. Muscles twitching with anticipation, daring an enemy to approach. Aggression pulsed from him.

His sensual appeal was off the charts.

Oh! “Turul-shifter!” I pointed to a winged muscle man perched on the branch of a tree, his eyes glowing bright red. Ebony wings arched over his shoulders, with small horns protruding along each arch. A fur kilt-type garment covered his thighs. His dark hair flapped around ultra-defined features.

None of my entourage reacted. They continued as if we weren’t being watched.

“I don’t understand,” I said, glancing back. The shifter was gone.

“He’s only a scout,” Viktor explained. “I want him to tell Deco what he saw.”

Ahhh. A war strategy. I liked it. Maybe. Kind of. It showed a confident front.

“Besides,” he added, and I swallowed a groan.

Anytime Viktor tacked on an addition to something he’d said, it never ended well for me. I lifted a hand. “No. The conversation is over. Say nothing else.”

He shrugged and held his silence, even seeming to forget I walked beside him.

Was he seriously not going to tell me what he’d intended to tell me? “Fine, let’s hear what else you hoped to do by letting the scout go free,” I said, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you. Later. With the proper incentive.”

“You fiend!” I belted out, and he almost smiled.

Our group climbed a hill, descended it, and came to a river with ice chunks floating along the water’s surface. I scanned left and right but found no break or bridge.Through the slush we go.

Teeth chattering, I waded across the thigh-deep length directly behind Viktor. Oh, the cold! By the halfway point, the muscles in my legs shook. When we reached the shore, I only wanted to collapse. But I pressed on. I’d probably need another massage tonight.

Fresh goose bumps broke out all over me.

“Very well, I’ll tell you without incentive,” Viktor piped up, as if I’d insisted. He pointed to a hill. “There’s an entire flock of turul-shifters already waiting for us below.”

Okay, so, the groan I’d managed to swallow earlier now escaped. “How many soldiersconstitute a flock?”

“Only fifty.”

What! Heart thumping against my ribs, I palmed both of my daggers. “Fifty against ten is so unfair.”

“Ja. They’re going to die badly.”

I blinked at him, noting the seriousness of his expression.

“I’m ready to ask my next question in the queue,” he stated, matter-of-fact, as if we weren’t marching into a battle.

Uh. “We should be preparing for war.”

“Nem. I’m always prepared.”

Was he truly that confident of his victory? He must know something I didn’t. “Ask,” I croaked, because what else could I do?

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