Page 73 of Feral Guardian
Alastair is quiet and I feel the need to fill the silence.
“Perhaps it was all that heavy breathing and—”
“Lilianna, Iwillpunish you again,” he says, his grip tightening.
“Was it really punishment, though?” I challenge.
I look over my shoulder and find our mouths almost meeting. I can imagine pushing that little distance, closing it, and sealing my lips around his. He seems to sense my thoughts, pulling back a measure and arching a brow.
He grabs my chin and turns my head to face forward. “You are a terrible imp.”
“Ah, but you love me all the same,” I say with a jeering tone.
He says nothing, pushing Kor’Tar into a trot that jostles me.
When I speak again, my words are broken by the thumping of his hooves on the dirt road, which has gotten considerably wider and more worn. “I don’t suppose they’ll have that special hair soap I like, the one that makes me smell like roses. I wish I’d had the wherewithal to not burn down the pirate ship before retrieving my luggage. We were rather distraught, though, so I don’t blame you either.”
The first building appears through the trees. It’s a single-story log home with smoke spiraling from the dark chimney. The roof is thick thatched straw with a thin layer of tar spread over it. The sight of it has my stomach tying itself in knots and I don’t know why.
“Do you think they’llhave any soap at all? As much as it doesn’t really offend me, I’ve had dirt under my new claws for the last three days that I just haven’t been able to get free. Oh! Do you think they’ll have a groomer who can trim my toenails down very short? It’s a long journey so there’s no need for me to present beautiful feet to the wilderness—”
Alastair covers my mouth with his warm hand and dips down to my ear. “You don’t need to be afraid, princess.”
Afraid? I’m not afraid. What’s there to be scared of? Bandits lying in wait to collect on the fourthousandgold bounty? Ha! Hardly. How would they know we were coming this way other than it’s one of the only roads leading out of Yelesna south to Fynren?
“I’ve got you.” His lips ghost across my temple.
My shoulders fall away from my ears and suddenly I’m unwinding. I hadn’t even realized I was coiled like a spring ready to burst out of my skin. I close my eyes and take solace in the comfort of his embrace. I drench myself in his protective grasp and free myself from worry.
Alastair’s calloused hand slides down my chin and rests on my throat. “I promise. No harm will come to you, so there’s no reason to be nervous. Even if one hundred men wait for us, they will not take you from me again.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Thank you.”
“And no, I don’t believe they’ll have your favorite soap, but we can see about making some if there’s an herbalist in town,” he says, putting his arm back around my shoulders in a possessive grip that has me yearning for more.
It’s so easy to sink against him and pretend I’m not always three breaths from my end, or three months from being married to a lord. He has me. He’ll have me forever.
Whenthe next house comes into view, it’s accompanied by a sturdy-looking twelve-foot wooden wall. Torches burn every few feet along the top, and between them are the old, rotting heads of ne’er-do-wellers. Beneath each head sits a hand-carved sign sit that lists their transgression: thief, murderer, bandit…Perhaps it is safe here.
We stop at the gate and dismount since the door wouldn’t be large enough for us to enter astride Kor’Tar. He is a beastly horse. Alastair keeps me tucked under one arm as he approaches the slat on the door. He knocks twice and stands back.
The slat slides open and a pair of dark, appraising eyes regard Alastair. “Yeh?”
“Travelers looking for shelter,” he says in Seterian.
“Inns are full up for the night,” the man behind the slat says.
“Could we work for a space on the floor?” I ask. “We’ve been sleeping in the forest for days now and I’m desperate to feel the warmth of a hearth and fill my belly with decent food.”
The man’s eyes trail over me from top to bottom. “’Spose old Igor could findsomethingfor you to do.”
Alastair pushes me a little farther behind him and growls, “I pray, for Igor’s sake, that was not some insinuation.”
The guard’s eyes dart back up to Alastair. The skin around them wrinkles like he might be smiling. “Two silver to come in and find out.”
“One,” I say.
The guard scowls at me for daring to barter for entry.
