Page 88 of White Horse Black Nights

I snap my jaw shut, biting off my words. It won’t do any good. Angrily, I glare at Rian until he finally gives a tight sigh and leaves me alone.

As if I needed one more reminder that creatures on two feet can never be trusted.

Chapter28

Wolf

As soon as I’m back in my shithole of a house, I throw myself head first into investigating what’s happening at the border wall. Okay, so it’s not entirely a shithole. Until a few weeks ago, the game warden’s residence, just outside the city walls between the Golden Sentinel barracks and the start of the Blackened Forest, suited me fine. It’s as simple as cottages come; a single room with a large fireplace and a sleeping loft, and a porch where I store my bows and arrows. It’s quiet. Peaceful.

Now, the quiet is fucking killing me.

I always thought I wanted solitude. The few times I’ve had soldiers in my house to share a bottle of ale was tolerably pleasant, but I was always anxious for them to leave. Now, I can’t stop glancing at the empty second chair, at the bed that’s only ever used on the left hand side.

Hunting isn’t any better. I’d thought it would take my mind off a certain girl with flowing locks, but all I can see in the woods are animals that remind me of her: owls, geese, mice. I have to force myself to fire the killing arrow, reluctant now that I know they could be friends of hers.

So as the days pass, I fill every second I’m not hunting with my quiet investigations. Rian forbade me from formally examining the breached border wall, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He made it abundantly clear that he’s been withholding things from me, so I’m only returning the favor.

Pouring over maps, I mark the route I’ll take to hike up the Darmarnach Mountains to reach the wall’s westernmost checkpoint. None of the checkpoints are manned now; they only were for the first hundred years or so after the great war, when people began to forget that the terrible crimes Volkish godkissed soldiers committed didn’t just happen in ghost stories. But there are still ruins where guards once stood, and that’s a likely place for a breach. With the difficult terrain, it would take a month to traverse the entire border wall, so I plan on sticking to the section closest to Duren. From the first checkpoint, I’ll follow the wall east around the Tulle tributary, skirting through the Blackened Forest until I reach Havre Peak. Even that short section will require four or five days. It’ll be tricky to find an opportunity to be absent that long without raising suspicion.

In the meantime, I’ve been quietly asking around among old contacts. Deep in the Sin Streets, there are information brokers who can find out anything for the right price. I get a lot of raised eyebrows when I mention King Rachillon and Volkany, but eventually, a spy informs me that there’s a Volkish whore at the Velvet Vixen, a mid-level brothel, who came to Astagnon under mysterious circumstances as a child. It’s the best lead I have.

On the evening I head into town to speak to her, however, I find myself running smack-dab into the last thing I need: A giant fucking mural of Sabine painted on the side of a grain warehouse. It portrays her draped in birds and dragonflies and moths, her arms extended in defiance. The artwork is amateurish, so I can’t imagine Rian commissioned this. Which means the people of Duren have already taken to her enough to immortalize her. Well, of course they fucking have. Who wouldn’t? She’s a goddess.

Somehow, after seeing that mural, I find myself in the Cloudfox Tavern instead of the Velvet Vixen. After more drinks than I care to count, I stumble back outside, stare too long at the mural, and then head to the Valvere stables.

Other than a few grooms shoveling shit at the opposite end, it’s empty. I find Myst in the first stall, which is so luxurious that it’s nicer than my cottage. Her mane and tail are perfectly groomed. Her white hair gleams, freshly washed. She’s happily munching on honey-rolled oats.

“Hey. Crazy mare. I’ve fucking missed your long face.” I lean on her stall door, pressing my forehead to the iron bars that top the wooden lower portion.

She comes over and nuzzles my forehead, getting horse slobber all over me. I scoff and wipe it away.

She gives a soft neigh.

“How am I, you ask? Oh, just fucking great. I’m always great. A lone wolf, don’t you know?”

She snorts.

I reach between the bars to scratch her behind the ears. “Okay, you got me. I miss her, too. I guess I got used to the two of you slowing me down. To her scent. It’s like violets—that’s the first thing I noticed about her.”

On some level, I’m aware that I’m drunk and talking to a horse. Utterly ridiculous. But being around Myst calms the black pit that’s been growing in my chest. I close my eyes, pressing my forehead to Myst’s, letting the scent of horsehair take me back to the ride from Bremcote. Those black nights with Sabine.

Gods—it fucking hurts.

I can smell a trace of violets in the air; Sabine must have been here recently, visiting Myst. My heart starts hammering, and my groin twitches as I breathe in that delicate scent. It’s almost overpowering. I could swear it’s getting strong enough to drown me.

Fuck, I downed too much ale . . .

Someone clears their throat behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

My eyes snap open. Sabine stands behind me, her hands perched on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. She’s wearing a lavender gown the same goddamn color as violets.Fucking perfect. It’s an off-the-shoulder neckline, exposing her bare shoulders and the top of her godkiss birthmark. The air stalls in my lungs.

I didn’t think it was possible, but I’d forgotten how beautiful she is.

“Lady Sabine.” I sober up fast, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth. “What are you— Where’s Rian?”

Her hate-filled eyes burn into me hot enough to banish me to the underrealm. She lifts a hand toward the stable entrance. “Just outside. He saw someone he wanted to speak to. He’ll be in shortly.”

I can’t read her tone. Alcohol dulls my heightened senses, makes me just as obtuse as everyone else. I clear my throat. “Have you set a wedding date?”

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