Page 17 of White Horse Black Nights

His brows are set low, dangerous, like a predator. “Who did this to you?”

“Couldn’t it have been an accident?”

He doesn’t bother to respond to the suggestion. “Answer me, my lady.”

He isn’t going to let me get away with silence. My heart clenches like a fist, wanting to protect me from my memories. Lowering my eyes, I admit reluctantly, “I was a ward of the Convent of the Immortal Iyre. The Sisters struck me until a month ago, when my father informed them he’d sold me to a wealthy husband. Then they locked me in a room, tied to a bed, to fatten me up and let the wounds heal. I guess it wasn’t quite long enough. No one else has noticed the bruises, but no one else has your eyesight.”

Wolf’s gaze burns into me with the intensity of an August sun. “How long?”

He means the beatings.

“Years.”

He briefly closes his eyes. “How many years?”

“Twelve.”

His face reddens as he drags in a breath that trembles with rage. He holds it, then lets it ebb away slowly, and only then can he speak. “You’ll be safe at Sorsha Hall, my lady. I swear it.”

I snort a mirthless laugh as I tug the cord off the base of my braid, freeing the strands and combing them loose with my fingers.

He frowns. “You doubt my word?”

My eyes are sharp and rebuking as I work through my hair. “I think you’re so besotted with your master that you’re blind, despite your godkissed vision.”

His jaw tightens. I’ve angered him. I said the wrong thing. But I don’t get the impression he’s angry that I insultedhim, but rather that I implied a flaw about his master.

Fighting to maintain composure, he vows again, “No harm will come to you in Duren, Sabine.”

“What do you callthis?” I explode with more verve than I knew I had in me, as I toss a hand toward my naked legs. “You think I’ll be safe with a husband whose first action toward his new bride is to make her a spectacle?”

Wolf’s neck burns with threads of red. “This ride is meant to honor the gods.”

“Oh, come on, you know that’s bullshit!”

He hesitates but doesn’t deny it. “Alright, then, but it isn’t meant to shame you. If anyone, it’s meant to shame your father.”

My response is to tug his shirt off despite the fact it leaves me naked. I ball up his shirt and shove it against his chest, breathing hard. “And yet I’m the one punished, aren’t I, Wolf?”

Chapter6

Wolf

The next few days pass with the same leers and catcalls, until every town blends together. I knew men could be vile, but the wicked delight that shines in their eyes as they line the road makes my stomach sour. My knuckles are raw from all the smart mouths I’ve punched, but it’s worth it.

To shut them up.

To relieve the needling frustration coursing in my veins.

And, dammit, to see her smile.

Sabine was uneasy at first, but gradually, she started to smile when I pummeled a mouthy asshole. Maybe after so many years on the receiving end of a stick, she relishes being on the team doling out the beatings. If I had to sucker-punch Immortal Vale himself, the King of Fae, to earn more of her smiles, I’d do it.

As we near Polybridge, the forest grows marshier. It isn’t long before we catch glimpses of the serpentine Tellyne River in the distance. Once we cross the river, we’ll head north, and that’s already got me prickling with dread. North means bigger towns, bigger crowds.

I’ll just say it—north means trouble.

For now, though, the road is quiet, save Myst’s hoofbeats and a jay’s chittering as it perches on Sabine’s shoulder. It makes a particularly loud squawk, and Sabine gives a gentle laugh that tinkles like bells.

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