Page 107 of The Enemy's Daughter

“Your brother can wait.”

He leans in, and the sour stink of sweat and old leather fills my nose. “You know, you marrying that hammer-swinging pile of lice from Cohdor wasn’t the plan. Your father cheated.” His gaze drops to my neckline, then just below. I close my eyes, wanting to scream. “What do you think I should do about that?”

For courage, I imagine my hands filled with knives. Then, using more muscle than should be necessary, I extract my arm from Gerald’s grasp. “I’m late. I need to go.”

His hand reclaims its grip on me and jerks me toward him. “Did I say you could leave?”

I search for Father’s men, and thank the sun above, they’re finally coming this way. I meet Gerald’s cold gaze.

He grins. “You and I should go speak with your father. Air our grievances about this wedding situation and see what can be done.”

His nails dig into my skin, but all I can think about is how he’s ruining my one chance to save Tristan. “No.”

Gerald’s mouth goes wider. “Now, that’s not the right answer.”

“Gerald!” Denver calls from the porch. He descends the stairs, jogging in our direction past the men already coming my way.

It makes me grow bolder. “I said no. I have somewhere I need to be.”

His eyes seem to brighten with excitement the more I fight. “You’ve got fire in you.” His fingers pinch tighter; they’re going to leave a mark. “That’s something that will need to be tamed.”

“Let. Go,” I say louder, then yank hard on my arm. His nails drag down my skin as I pull away, slicing me open. But before I’m freed, his other hand shoots out, slapping me across the face. Pain slams through my cheek.

I almost fall down, but his hand finds my chin, gripping it tightand forcing me close. My ears ring as he speaks. “Careful. Talking back is never a wise choice. It might tempt me to cut those pretty lips off.” He smiles as if to soften the threat.

The taste of blood fills my mouth. But so does my rage. “What? You’d cut off these?” Then I use those lips to spit in his face.

His eyes close. Sparkles of my blood and saliva coat his cheeks. But then his smile is back. “You’ll pay for that.”

I’m ripped from Gerald’s hand by Denver and Harris. I stumble, suddenly free. More men join the fray, shouting and shoving, but I only have one thought: Tristan.

My feet are clumsy thanks to the shock and adrenaline overriding my body. I glance back and am met with Gerald’s predatory gaze. Clansmen pull at him. Yell in his ear. But his eyes track me, holding a promise of much more pain.

Someone grabs me, and I let out a scream—until I recognize Freia.

“Come,” she says, then hastily guides me to a spot behind my house. We’re not hidden, but at this moment, we’re not in anyone’s direct line of sight. Thankfully, my pack lies at our feet.

“What happened with Gerald?” she yell-whispers, eyes wide.

I blink, trying to clear my eyes. “He... wanted me to... I don’t even know. Go and see my father. I refused.”

A cry leaks from her throat. “And you spat on his face. He’s going to come after you.”

Probably, but that’s not what’s important right now. I reach for Freia’s hand. “Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”

“Wait,” she hisses. “I went to talk to my brothers to prepare them... but only Freddy was there. The other guard is your brother.”

I grimace as our plan takes another blow. Even if by some miracle Percy lets me in, he won’t let me leave with the prisoners.

“Okay, what if we wait until both my brothers are back on guard?” Freia asks. “I’m sure it will happen. We’ll just come back another day.”

I shake my head. “We don’t have another day.”

She shrugs helplessly.

My fingers rub at the ache in the corner of my mouth where Gerald split it. Doing this the easy way isn’t going to work anymore.

Crouching down, I rip open the pocket in my bag containing the weapons.

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