Page 64 of Vengeance Becomes Her

The warm blood coating her hands was more comforting than anything anyone else could offer her. She rubbed her fingertips together, feeling the tangible power of taking her first life. It. Felt. Good. A massive weight had been lifted from her chest. A small justice, but the first she’d seen. She’d done that for herself.

She finally turned back to Tristain, a broad grin on her face.

The other men lay lifeless on the ground. He was off his horse and breathing heavily, clouding the crisp air. He looked up at her as she slid from her horse.

He rushed over to her and poured water over her bloody hands. “Are you okay?” He searched for signs of injury.

Rhiannon nodded. Relief and adrenaline were pounding through her, clouding her mind of anything else but elation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself close as she kissed him intently. Her hands fumbled for the buckles that lined his chest.

Tristain removed her hands, holding her by the wrists. “What are you doing it’s freezing? We could have just died.”

“I know.” Rhiannon was breathless as she pushed him against the nearest tree. She trailed her lips across his jaw and down his neck as her hands fumbled with the laces at the top of his trousers.

“Rhiannon, we can’t do this here.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “There are dead bodies right there.” He motioned in their direction with his eyes.

“Just ignore them,” she huffed.

“I can’t,” Tristain shot back, putting distance between them as he fixed his pants.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine.” She was wound tight as she stomped back to her horse.

“Where the hell did you get that dagger by the way?” He asked suspiciously.

“I had it made. For situations just like this,” she said as she returned it to the right sideof her harness.

“Resourceful. And where did you even learn to useit like that?”

“I’ve been practicing. On my own.” She hadn’t expected the words to ignite a small spark of guilt. She watched his reaction carefully.

He only nodded, his expression revealing nothing. “You taught yourself well. That was impressive.” He gave her a final once over, assessing her carefully. “We should keep moving. Ready?”

She only nodded as they took off into a trot.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tristain finally asked after another hour of riding in silence. “You’ve never killed anyone before, it’s okay if you’re not.”

“I feel the best I have in a long time.”

He kept his horse at an even pace with hers as he watched her closely.

“I told you I wouldn’t let anyone stand in my way—especially not someone who threatened me.” She eyed him, waiting to see how he’d respond.

“I see that now.” He turned his attention back to the road ahead, keeping an eye out for further threats. “It’s a beautiful dagger by the way. Very finely made, and I especially like two emeralds at the hilt. It suits you.”

“Thank you.”

She left it at that. She didn’t tell him that she’d designed the dagger herself. That those two emeralds were very purposeful. That when she plunged it into Silas’ heart, she wanted him to be reminded of the witch who started all this and know that with her, their curse would end, once and for all. She couldn’t help but smile at her cleverness of the poetry of it all. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be wasted on him, but she doubted it would be, he’d always had a keen eye for detail. Soon she found herself daydreaming of that day when she would finally see the terror in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t finished her off, after all. Just thinking about it shot excitement through her veins.

It took them until after dark to finally arrive at the first village—Norhavalta. Luckily, there was an inn on the very outskirts of the town. They decided to share a room to conserve the money they’d brought with them. Rhiannon certainly wasn’t going to object. She let Tristain sort out the details while she asked the barkeep about dinner. Tristain walked over shortly after, key danglingfrom his hand.

“I need to eat something before we head up.” He nodded in agreement and sat down on the nearest bench while she ordered them two bowls of soup with bread and ale. When she came back to the table, they both scarfed down their meal in silence. They were starved and exhausted. Rhiannon wasn’t used to being exposed to the elements and it had taken a toll on her earlier excitement.

She nearly collapsed the second Tristain opened the door to their room. It was small and modest, with far too much brown for her taste, but it had a bed and a washroom which was exactly what she needed right now.

“I’m going to wash up,” Tristain called over his shoulder as he shut the door to the washroom. When he emerged again, he was shirtless and wearing a pair of cotton pants.

Rhiannon averted her eyes from lingering on his body and strode into the bathroom, closing the door firmly between them. She washed herself and slid into her own sleepwear, a black slip, her favorite.

When she emerged, she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not, so she put her bag down quietly next to his and blew out the candles. She got onto the bed as gently as she could, but she still made quite the dent that shifted him.

He turned to face her, opening his arms. She only hesitated a moment before curling into him. It was significantly colder here and she wasn’t interested in freezing all night.

They were both so exhausted from their long day that they didn’t speak a single word or share a single kiss.

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