“The…veil,” he murmured. “Only open for…hour.”
I twisted my head to look behind us. The blood trail—Kragorn’s thigh and chest were bleeding profusely—was clear against the snow. If any of my father’s men were still alive, they’d be able to follow us.
I took a deep breath, tightened my hold on Kragorn’s belt, and plunged us into the mist.
Despite not being able to see—or feel, or hear—anything through the silvery fog, we stumbled onward. I prayed to see the light from the moon again, and then?—
We all but tumbled from the mist, and when I looked up, ‘twas to see I’d fallen into a different world.
The circle of stones still stood in the center of a valley, but whereas before the woods had been a long way off, here they grew closer. The moon shone brightly on a small,cozy-looking cottage, which hadn’t been there before, and the trio of people who watched us.
“Our chief has returned!” I heard the bellow from one of them, and I winced as I turned us in that direction. “Kragorn! Kragorn!”
Then the male was upon us, a fierce-looking orc who threw himself from his saddle to reach for Kragorn.
“He’s hurt,” I managed, glad to shift his weight to the newcomer. “Please help him?”
“Forget me,” Kragorn groaned as the new male took his weight. “Lillian…”
“Where in the hells have ye been, cousin?” the male asked, and as I watched, Kragorn slumped in his arms.
“Hells,” he murmured as his eye closed. “All of them.”
I clutched my shawl around myself and trembled—either from relief or fear or exhaustion—as the newcomer half-carried Kragorn toward the cottage. When another orc suddenly appeared at my side, I gasped and jerked away, but his expression was neutral as he nodded toward the house in invitation.
“Please join us, lass. My Mate will have something warm to drink, and ye can tell us how ye came to save our chief.”
Me? Save Kragorn? I was shaking my head when the male wrapped his arm—and his cloak—around me and turned me toward the cottage. When he noticed my limp, he slowed his own steps, and I realized he only had the one arm. I wanted to ask him where we were, what had happened, whatwouldhappen…
But ‘twas not my place. Not anymore.
So, I ducked my head and followed meekly.
The cottage was a hubbub of sound and motion as Kragorn was laid into the bed. To my surprise, there were two human women there as well, fussing over everyone. I found myself wrapped in a blanket and sat in front of the fire, my hands curled around a cup of warm tea as one of the women spooned pottage into a bowl.
I wondered if they were honored Mates, as Kragorn had once described, or if they were captives like me. I kept my attention on him in the bed, worrying that his injuries would be too much.
Please live, I found myself praying, although I wasn’t sure if my God could hear me in this world.
“He will be safe,” the blonde woman promised me with a comforting smile as she passed me the bowl of pottage. “We will get him to the village, and his grandmother will be able to cure him.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the food gratefully, keeping my head and gaze down. I wasn’t sure who this woman was, or what my relationship would be to her now that their chief had returned. “You are very kind.”
“My name is Isadora.” Her hand rested briefly on my shoulder. “You clearly care about Kragorn as much as my Mate does. You will be his guest in the village. This is the least we can?—”
Unable to have her assume things about me, I forced myself to face her.
“You misunderstand, milady. I am not his guest.”
Isadora’s brows rose in surprise. “Of course you are.”
“Nay,” I whispered, dropping my gaze back to the pottage, swallowing my humiliation. “I am naught. I am his prisoner.”
The other woman jerked her hand away from my shoulder in surprise, and I told myself ‘twas for the best. Here in the orcs’ world I could not have friends, I could not find a place.
I was here for one purpose: as revenge for Kragorn’s treatment at my father’s hands. I didn’t think he would make me suffer the same as he had suffered, but I could not deny why I was here:
I was Kragorn’s captive.
