Page 12 of Feral Guardian
He swallows, taking a step back. “What the fuck, Brunay?”
“He spoke traitorously of my princess,” my voice growls out, deep and menacing.
Trask shudders at the noise and takes another step back, then sheathes his sword.
“Let’s try to fucking get home without incident, shall we?” he says, glaring at Derek, and then the other men in his company.
Finally, a little action from the lazy mutt.
We mount up and get underway. The sun is already lower than I’d like, and while this stretch of the forest wouldn’t be prime for an ambush, the bit in the middle would be. The center of the forest where the trees block out the sun and the underbrush flanks the road provides ample hiding spots for a large-scale attack.
It’s quiet as we ride. The only sounds are the horse hooves hitting the dirt, the squeaky wheel of the carriage, and Sven’s off-tune whistling. I tell him to stop several times, and he does, only to start up again minutes later. Fucking drunk. He’s been sipping from a flask the whole ride.
The trees grow taller and thicker the deeper we go. The air smells of pine and frost. And something else, something subtle. Seawater but soured.
My demon grumbles in frustration. This close to the Bay of Ice I could be smelling the water with my enhanced senses. It is very faint.
The afternoon sun is hidden by the trees and we take a short rest to light torches. The smell of the sea is stronger now, but that’s to be expected as we get closer to the bay. Still, something about it makes me uneasy.
“Do you smell that?” I ask Trask.
“We don’t care about the wind your horse is breaking,” Derek says, his words made awkward by the pain in his tongue.
“Not horse ass, you fuckwit. It’s something else,” Trask says. “What is it, Brunay? I can’t tell.”
“It smells like the sea, but rotted,” I say.
“Think you should check the area?” Trask asks.
My gaze narrows. He’s being much too compliant.
The sour undertone of the scent grows more powerful, and I realize exactly what it is.
Pirates.
Chapter four
Lily
The carriage bumps to a halt and I glance up from my notebook. The darkness of the forest startles me. Have we really been riding that long? My bladder lets me know that, yes, we have been riding that long.
I tuck my notebook and pencil away in my pantaloon pocket, then seal it up tight. Alastair’s overprotective tracking rune shivers on my chest. I touch the necklace and the trembling eases, as if it’s confirming I’m all right. A smile turns the corner of my lips, but I squash it. I can’t have these feelings for Alastair anymore. I’m a grown woman who will be marrying some lord and bearing his children for queen and country. Hopefully that queen will be Reina and not our wicked mother…
A brief flash of dark walls covered in animal bones and black candles burning with red fire jolts me from my seat. When I stand, the ward light I’d etched above me dims, no longer powered by my constant flow of magic. My heart palpitates and my hands shake.
Alastair. I need Alastair.
My trembling fingers pull the handle and I open the carriage door, then hang out of it. I search the tops of heads until I find Alastair’sshiny, gold-trimmed helm. He’s talking with Trask and suddenly his head snaps to the right and his hand falls to the grip of his axe.
His attention swings back my way and he tenses. “Back in the carriage, now!”
My stomach turns from the lingering fear. “But, Alastair—”
“Now, Lilianna!” His voice is rough and laced with fear, which only heightens mine.
My galloping heart breaks into a sprint, and I duck back inside. What could have him scared?
I stand at the door and watch out the window as the guard forms up to create a circle around the carriage.
