Page 30 of White Horse Black Nights

But she’s not. She hates everything about me.

I don’t blame her. All I’ve done is force her across half of Astagnon while men ogle her. And make her sleep on the ground. Oh, and break the neck of her latest four-legged friend. Though to be fair, it was either me or the wildcat.

At least it’s clear nothing happened between her and the goatherd, not even an innocent peck. That boy really is a dolt. If I had Sabine Darrow ready and willing in some goat shed, I’d do a hell of a lot more than daydream about the goddamn ocean . . .

Shit. I really need to stop thinking like this.

Beside me, Sabine mumbles something incoherent in her sleep. She tosses, knocking the blanket off her feet. Her expression contorts like she’s having a bad dream, and it’s all I can do not to stroke the loose hair off her face and hope it helps her sleep.

I’m so damn proud of my little violet. I know she’s disappointed that her escape failed, but she doesn’t realize just how far she made it. She did better than anyone would have dreamed a sheltered noblewoman could: Covering Myst in mud, sticking to the stream, staying downwind to hide her scent, setting the wildcat as a trap. Not to mention fighting me tooth and nail. I wonder if Rian knows what a headstrong girl he bought himself. Will he like a feisty bride? If she were mine, I’d goad her just so she would writhe underneath me again, her cheeks flushed pink and that fire in her eyes . . .

Shit.Shit.Knock that off, Wolf.

Sabine curls into a ball, cold without a blanket on her feet. She tosses again in her sleep, this time rolling up against me. When her arm brushes my leg, she wiggles closer like she’s a deathrattle snake in search of warmth.

My breath stills. I could replace the blanket around her feet, but then she might not stay curled against me. And I really,reallylike the weight of Sabine Darrow at my side. Far more than I should.

Watching her sleep is such a goddamn tender scene that my chest feels too tight to breathe.

Briefly, I close my eyes. Is this what it’s like to have a woman? I’ve only ever known whores and the occasional courtesan who will deign to sleep with the Valveres’ huntsman. All those times, we sure as hell weren’t sleeping soundly. But there is something so damn intoxicating about just being in Sabine’s presence. I don’t care that she’ll never be mine to take to bed. Being near her is enough.

I’ll talk to Rian in Duren,I tell myself.I’ll be her bodyguard. At least I can keep her safe.

When she stirs, I saunter off into the woods to take a piss so that she doesn’t realize that she slept against me. When I come back, she’s stoked the fire and already has a pot of water boiling. A clutch of wild duck eggs rests on the blanket.

“Where did you get those?” I snap.

She ignores my tone as she drops the eggs one at a time into the pot. Her chin tips toward a grove of maidenhair ferns. “There’s a nest over there. I left half of the eggs. It seemed cruel to take more than we needed.”

The more I see Sabine use her godkiss, the more I realize how valuable it is. At first, talking to mice seemed like a cute trick. But I underestimated how her power could keep her alive in the woods, help her forage for food, even break free of binds.

She’s fucking incredible.

Over the next few mornings, we fall into a routine. Sabine makes breakfast while I pack up camp. It’s no longer me providing for us while I order her to sit and stay. We’re more of a partnership now, though I don’t have any illusions that it makes us friends. After all, I destroyed her dream of escape. And she sent a fucking wildcat to kill me.

Yeah, we have a few issues.

“Here. Your shirt. It stinks, by the way.” Sabine gives me my shirt, and we continue the ride. The path passes a few gnarled apple trees that must have grown from an ancient traveler’s tossed-off apple core. Myst strains her neck but can’t reach the high fruits. I toss a rock to knock down some apples for her. As she munches them out of my palm, she doesn’t flinch at my presence like she used to.

Has this cranky mare started to trust me?

We pass only a few homesteads until midday, when we enter the village of Charmont. It’s the largest settlement within Mag Na Tir Forest, a sort of county seat. The spire of the Monastery of Immortal Meric rises like a knife blade over the rooftops. We pass washerwomen hanging clothes, children kicking a ball made of fabric scraps tied together. The children are too young to realize Sabine’s public nakedness is unusual, but the washerwomen gape. One woman catches a boy and whispers to him. He takes off down a dirt path toward the center of town.

Great. Spreading the word.Just what we fucking need.

And as soon as we reach a blacksmith’s forge, villagers are already lining up along the road. Men stare at Sabine with wolfish gazes. I bristle as protective instincts harden my muscles.

The longer this ride goes on, the more I question Rian’s motives. Was this about establishing his power not just to Sabine, but to everyone whose path we cross?If he is willing to force his own bride into such a display, people must say,imagine what he would do to enemies who crossed him. I’ve known Rian to devise some vicious spectacles, but this one simply feels cruel.

When we were boys, he wasn’t like this. I was eleven when he saw me in that fighting ring; he was thirteen. Jocki had tied a blindfold around my eyes to show off my godkiss power, and even without my vision, I’d knocked the other boy on his ass, off sound and smell alone. Halfway through the fight, I smelled aloeswood incense among the watching crowd. The only times I’d smelled it before were when the Valvere family paraded through the streets of Duren in full fae regalia as part of the Festival of Immortal Popelin.

So, I knew one of the Valveres was in the crowd, even before I won the fight and took off my blindfold. What no one anticipated was for young Rian Valvere to climb into the ring and take my fallen opponent’s place.

“Don’t go easy on me,” he commanded. “And don’t fetter yourself with the blindfold. I want to know the extent of what you can do.”

Well, fuck, I thought.This rich little lord has screwed me now.Jocki would skin my hide if I shamed a Valvere through defeat, but the boy himself was ordering me not to throw the fight. So what the fuck was I supposed to do?

I got lucky that Rian was a skilled fighter. He put up a good enough defense that no humiliation was necessary. The third time I knocked him to the ground, certain that each time he’d get up and scream for the guards to execute me, he simply stood back up with a serious set to his jaw and said, “Go again.”

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