Page 63 of Vengeance Becomes Her

“What the hell did you pack in that bag, it’s unreasonably heavy.” Tristain patted the bag for emphasis. His usual smile was nowhere to be found, but his casual air reassured her that he was making an effort to respect her wishes.

“Necessities.”

Tristain’s eyes widened at her in disbelief. “Right…necessities.”

“What do you care, you’re not the one carrying it,” she said saucily. “Now help me up, please.”

“Are you asking or telling?” He arched a brow, uncharacteristic haughtiness in his voice. So, he was still a bit bitter about the night before.

She let out a sigh. “Pleasehelp me up on this horse before I change my mind and attempt to walk. But be warned, I will complain the whole time if that’s the case.”

He shook his head, softness creeping back into his features as heapproached her.

Rhiannon put her foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself onto the saddle, with a small push from Tristain. She smirked at herself. It gave him a perfect view of how the leather stretched across her ass.

The smile on her face didn’t remain long as she adjusted herself in the saddle, searching for some semblance of comfort. She had forgotten how miserable riding was. She couldn’t imagine how much her ass and thighs were going to kill her once they made it to the first town they’d be staying in.

A sly smirk crept across Tristain’s face as he watched her squirm in her seat trying to find a comfortable position.

“Don’t you dare tease me right now,” she snapped but there was no bite in her voice. She was distracted by the way his own black leathers were hugging his strong thighs and how his worn black boots curved around his muscular calves. Her eyes roved north, admiring the silver buckles that ran up his torso and chest. Then there was that damned sword at his hip that pulled it all together. She bit her lip. They hadn’t even left yet, and she was ready to rip his clothes off. It was going to be torture.

She ripped her gaze awayfrom his body.

“Like what you see?” He arched a thick brow. He looked so smug sitting confidently atophis own horse.

Rhiannon had the sudden urge to give him a hard push—not enough to unseat him, just enough to wipe that obnoxious expression off his handsome face. Instead, she urged her horse forward, leaving the only home she’d ever known behind.

They rode mostly in silence for the first few hours. Sadness clung to Rhiannon as she questioned her decision for the first time. She was already homesick, and it had only been a few hours. Worry and indecision consumed her, and she assumed Tristain was feeling much the same way. Although, he had worries for other reasons.

They were forced to break their silence when they saw a group of men approaching them from the other direction. Tristain looked back at her with a warning look. There was a bit of distance between them that she tried to close quickly but they approached them while she was still a few feet away.

“What do we have here?” The large, muscular man with a scraggly beard sitting at the front of the group remarked. One of his companions started to make a wide circle around them.

“Looks like you’ve lost your way,” the third man with greasy blond hair remarked. While they were sizing her and Tristain up, she did the same, noting the swords and daggers they each carried on their person.

“Just a couple of travelers making it through the countryside, admiring the views along the way.” Tristain’s voice was casual, but she could feel the tension rolling off him. “Nothing to worry yourselves with.”

“Hmm…well I don’t see it that way. I see a beautiful ample woman looking to be claimed by a few real men,”the man with the long beard said as his eyes grazed her body in a way that made her want to scald herself in the hottest bath water.

She fought a shudder and tried to find a way to use this situation toher advantage.

“Now that’s an offer,” she cooed in her most seductive voice as she discreetly removed and pocketed herleather gloves.

She directed her horse forward until she was next to him. She allowed their knees to rub. An assuming grin spread across his face. He thought he could have her just like that. She had to fight the urge to laugh in his face. Men were far too arrogant for their own good, but it was working in her favor.

“So, once you take me away from here, what are you going to do with me?” She forced her tone to remain flirtatious even though the thought of this man touching her made her skin crawl. She kept her eyes locked on his, hoping to hold his attention so Tristain could deal with the other two men.

“Trust me, we’re going to have a good time with you later.” The glint in his eyes made his meaning clear. They would have a good time, or his definition of it, whether she wanted to or not. Or so he thought. What he didn’t know is that she was done with men like him hurting women like her.

A wicked smile took over her lips as she leaned closer to him, running her hand up his thigh suggestively. The sensation had him distracted enough that he didn’t have time to react when she quickly unsheathed the dagger at her waist and stabbed it into the side of his throat with such force that she almost fell from her horse. Luckily, her thighs were strong, and her grip kept her in her seat as she used her core to lean herself back into a more secure seated position.

The dagger was in so deep that she could see the silver glint of the tip sticking out the other side. She watched eagerly as the panic entered his eyes. She felt no remorse, only exhilaration. This is what she’d been craving. Justice. Accountability for the evil men who walked this earth taking whatever they wanted. She felt her lips curl up into a smile. She’d made the right decision coming with Tristain. She knew it with certainty now.

She heard a commotion behind her that reminded her that Tristain was taking on the two other men on his own. But she couldn’t seem to peel her eyes away from the bleeding man in front of her. His mouth was gaping with shock, his eyes bulging in disbelief and pain. Seconds had passed but something definitive had changed within her. She wasmade for this.

She leaned over, wrenching the dagger from his seizing throat—hot blood poured out of the wound and onto her hands. As she removed the blade, she couldn’t resist whispering one final taunt in his ear. “You were right, we did have a good time together.” She laughed in satisfaction. It didn’t matter if he might not be fully conscious anymore.

When he slumped over, she took one last look at the first man she killed and wiped her dagger on his thigh. She kicked his lifeless body off the horse so it could run free—it shouldn’t have to lug it around in this unbearable cold.

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