Page 13 of White Horse Black Nights

Standing, I take my time removing one of the rabbits from the spit, picking off the ash and charred bits, then stalk around slowly and hold the roasted meat above Sabine’s head.

Her stomach growls. Saliva floods her mouth. Her big eyes look up at me with so much goddamn hope it takes my breath away.

In a hard voice, I say, “Never attempt to bribe me again, Lady Sabine. It won’t go as well for you the second time.”

I pop a chunk of the meat in my own mouth.

Her face falls. I’m never keen to see a girl’s hopes dashed like a rotten pumpkin, but she doesn’t realize what a favor I just did her. What a favor I’m about to do for her now, though she’ll hate me for it.

Setting the stick back on the spit while her stomach rumbles louder, I rummage through my rucksack until I find a length of rope.

“Hold out your hands,” I command, and measure enough to bind her wrists.

Her eyes fill with fear.

Violets, I think as her scent mixes with the savory juices in my mouth.Goddamn violets.

Chapter5

Sabine

My wrists are bound.

My ankles are tied.

My stomach growls like a newborn pup.

And all I can think is:I hate Wolf Bowborn with all the marrow in my bones.

My captor sits on a log by the fire, confident I can’t escape, taking his time picking the meat off a rabbit haunch like he enjoys watching me try to squirm out of my binds.

After he torments me long enough, he comes around the fire in unhurried steps, then lowers the roasting stick with the second rabbit toward my mouth.

“Eat,” he commands.

Seething, I glare up at him, but I’m too hungry to refuse. It’s pathetic how a single day without food sends all my resolve flying out the window. As I think of all the ways I’d like to stab him with that pointy stick, I part my jaw. He holds out the meat, and I take a bite, ripping its flesh with my teeth. Grease drips down my chin.

A dark smile plays on his lips—he’s enjoying this far too much.

“You’re a beast,” I mutter around the bite in my mouth.

The insult doesn’t phase him. “A beast? Sure. A beast who will get you to Duren even if I have to bind and gag you every night. So any ideas you have about escape, you give up now, do you understand? Because I’m happy to repeat this act every night. I assure you, I don’t mind.”

“I wasn’t planning to escape!”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small object, dropping it in the grass beside my bound feet.

It’s Adan’s cockleshell.

Oh, shit.

At my silence, he wipes the rabbit grease from my chin with his thumb, then slowly pops his thumb in his mouth to lick off the juices.

I gape at him—there’s something deeply carnal about that action, something that stirs a buzz in me I can’t place a name to.

“What is his name?” Wolf asks, licking his lips.

I’m not sure which emotion is greater—fury that he seems to somehow know about Adan or baldfaced awe that he figured it out so easily. Does his godkiss let him read minds, too?

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