“The rule is clear, sir,” Alexander stated, “if an Enchantress raises her hands to you then?—”
“You are relieved of your duties.” Evren squared his shoulders. “You are to return your badges at once. Look for Lieutenant Benedict at the Blackwind Tavern, he’s my second in command.”
The men shook their heads, disbelief clear in their eyes but neither of them moved.
“If I find out the two of you didn’t turn in your badges, there will be hell to pay.”
“But sir—” Jasper stepped forward, his fiery hair glowing in the snow lit light.
“That was an order.” Evren’s fingers tapped on his leg in a furious rhythm. Not to mention, if the witch lost any more blood, he wouldn’t be able to trade her for his coin and, by the looks of the snow, she was losing it quickly. “You’ve proven to me you can’t complete a simple task. I’ll deliver her to King Romanmyself, without further damage.”
The men’s faces reddened, and they gaped like fish. Their argument was clearly not over.
“Go,” he said, firm and direct.
The men eyed him for a moment. A few profanities were muffled under their breaths before they started forward.
As Jasper walked by, Evren stuck out his arm, slamming it into his chest and stopping him short.
“The key.” Evren kept his eyes on the Enchantress.
She watched, no longer crying, her eyes wide and questioning. Her brows had softened, but her face had gone as pale as the snow.
The hunter dug into his pants pocket and fished out the tiny silver key that would unlock the Enchantress from her shackles. Snatching it, Evren quickly placed it in his pocket for good keeping.
“Now leave,” he said, and the men, this time, didn’t question him as they turned and disappeared back into the forest.
Nine
Everything in Tallulah’sbody was on fire. From her arm where the arrow struck her, to the tips of her toes, frozen in her boots. She thought for certain she’d met her demise when the poisonous arrow hit her. Thought her fate had been decided the moment the iron shackles sealed around her wrists.
But then there he was.
Evren had come back, and from the repugnance on his face, he’d come back to do just as the men he sent away intended to do. Take her to Valebridge and trade her life, her soul, for a bit of coin.
But why bother sending the men away at all? Why not let them finish the job? Unless he was desperate for the coin.
Yes. He must be a desperate man, indeed.
“Can you walk?” Evren peered down at her where she still kneeled in the snow.
Tallulah wasn’t certain if shecouldwalk with the amount of pain she was in and refused to look down at the crimson snow. The air was rich with iron, making her stomach queasy. But she certainly wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of dragging her. She rose to her feet, inch by excruciating inch, until her chin was level with his chest. As she did, he gently untied the cloth from her mouth. She stretched her jaw, the pain there nothing compared to her arm.
“Yes.” She glared at him, her nostrils flaring from the scent of the blood and the unsettled anger in her chest. She bit down on her tongue to distract herself. Her arm felt heavy and useless, her body frozen, and her hopes of escaping diminished.
Evren just watched her. His green eyes snagged on the wound on her shoulder. White flecks of snow littered his dark auburn hair and while she expected him to be just as forceful as the other men had been, his distance surprised her.
“Let’s go.” A certain softness in his words caught Tallulah off guard. He’d been so straightforward and blunt when they’d spoken last. But this was different. As if he cared. As if he sought her for a different reason…
“Are you taking me to Valebridge?” Tallulah asked through a wince, but the effort to speak was too much. Her body crumpled forward; her hands unable to break her fall.
Evren’s hands were there before she could register what happened. Gripping her forearms, steadying her. She kept her eyes to the ground, confused by his touch. By his tenderness.
“Not today,” he whispered in her ear.
For a moment, relief replaced the pain. For a moment, hope ignited again and at that, she dared to look him in the eyes. “Take us back to the greenhouse so I can tend to your wound,” Evren whispered. “The king won’t be happy with a damaged product, and I intend to get every last coin he’s offering.”
Tallulah’s heart sank with every word. Every syllable. The flame of hope doused. It shouldn’t surprise her to hear it. He was a hunter, and she was the prey. But it stung anyway, just as much as the iron around her wrists. As much as the poison dripping into her veins. She had spared his life, and he was more than willing to toss hers aside for a bit of gold.
