Page 58 of The Cursed and the Broken
A gentle voice warned where this road could lead. And I promised myself I wouldn’t—I couldn’t—develop feelings for him. But where the mind is logical, the heart is all fire.
If I wasn’t careful, I would burn in those flames.
TWENTY-FOUR
It was a quiet rideto Mistvellen. No one was in the mood for chatter after last night’s events. The bodies of the two fallen guards had been rolled in sheets from the cabin and secured to their mounts so their families could bury them.
Scarlet seeped from the white cotton, staining the fabric and setting a stark reminder to carry with us. András told me their names were Bela and Csaba. They both had wives and children waiting for their return. Families who would miss them forevermore.
Dante barely spoke as the day wore on, but I saw the hard set of his jaw, the way his eyes darted to them. Guilt fired through me once again at my words from yesterday.
He placed a warm hand on my knee as if sensing where my thoughts had gone. A small gesture of forgiveness. A breath shuddered from my lungs and I petted Arló on the neck, cooing to him gently. The little coward had quite the scare last night, but at least he didn’t bolt altogether.
I narrowed my eyes.This time.
Laszlo bounded ahead, unperturbed by the gloomy forest, the gnarled roots or the spindly trees clawing at the sky. Even if the canopy wasn’t blocking out the daylight, the leaves still seemed grey and lifeless, casting a perpetual shroud over our shoulders.
When several hours had passed without hide or hair of animal, cultist, or creature, I could stand the silence no longer. “What’s it like? Mistvellen, I mean.”
Dante raised an amused brow. “It’s beautiful. The woods open to rolling green hills and on the southern front are rows and rows of lavender bushes. When the sun sets, those hills sing.”
It sounded charming. Something an artist might paint to hang in gilded frames upon nobles’ walls. Lavender was often used in tonics and spells or, for the upper class, in perfumes and lotions. But I wasn’t aware of any witches in Mistvellen. “Why lavender?”
Dante’s smile was sad, his gaze faraway. “It was my mother’s favourite flower. She suffered from night terrors, so the maid would give her poultices to lie beneath her pillow to calm her. And purple was always her favourite colour. We had some plants in our gardens, but once she passed, I had the rows planted to honour her memory.”
My heart constricted and, leaning over, I squeezed his leg. “I’m sure she would love it.”
His answering grin was a brilliant flash of white teeth. A rare, true smile that I hadn’t really seen yet. A strange feeling bubbled inside me at the sight. “I think so too.”
“And what’s your home like? The town?”
“You won’t find a more generous and loving people. Most among us are táltosok, but we welcome others, too. Humans and witches, men and women of all cultures and places. Within the stone walls of our town is a bustling hive. The people support each other. There is no upper or lower class like one might find in human towns. All are happy and healthy. We look after our own.”
“You allow humans to live there too?” My jaw dropped in disbelief. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Humans! The people who cried murder at the very sniff of the word witch. “Aren’t you worried they will spread news about the town? Just one gossipmonger could spread word to nearby villages—have raiders with pitchforks and torches banging on your doors.”
Dante chuckled. “Our community thrives because we are all equal. Táltos, witch, human, it doesn’t matter. We keep each other safe and we work hard to keep a good thing going. The people have homes, jobs, food on the table and fires to keep them warm. They respect my father and his reign.”
Blinking, I sat back in my saddle. “I didn’t know,” I whispered. “All this time, I had no idea just how separated from the world my coven really was. Why?”
He looked at me pointedly. “Can you think of no reason?”
My nostrils flared. “Caitlin.”
Those brown eyes hardened like steel. “She’s still living in the past, afraid to embrace a future where power is shared among the many. I know her. People in positions of power do not share the load lightly unless their choices are taken from them. The girls in your village? She knows many would leave if they knew greener pastures lay beyond.”
“So she keeps them penned like animals. Hiding behind a society designed to behold women to their homes, to their petticoats and sewing, pianoforte and a fool’s curtsy.” I snorted. “What rubbish.”
“Have I told you how sexy you are when you’re pouting?” Dante purred.
Rolling my eyes, I kicked his shin. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you are glorious. I think you’ll quite like being the lady of Mistvellen. You’ve already got the bossiness down. A few fine dresses and jewels and you’ll be right at home.”
“I don’t need dresses and jewels. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a girly girl.”
He smiled and a dimple cracked his cheek. “Oh, the gowns aren’t for you, Freckles. I like my presents wrapped before I rip the finery off.”
A blush stained my cheeks and I aimed a kick at his leg again, but he nudged Arló with his stallion, making me wobble in my seat. I glared as the other dimple popped into place. “You are an arrogant ass.”
