Feeling completely disrespected, I couldn’t help but retort, “You act like I’d enjoy it. Your kind disgusts me.”
“We are wasting time,” he stated through gritted teeth before grabbing my hands slicked with the trail of blood that worked itself down my arm during our shouting match. I dug my heels into the hard, dirt-packed road as he dragged me over to his horse.
It wasn’t lost on me that he managed to sidestep the carriage question.
“You can either be tossed over the horse on your stomach, or you can sit,” he stated dryly. “You have three seconds to decide before I decide for you, and my choice will be the least comfortable, I promise you that.”
My lips pursed as I countered, “I think I will just get on my own horse,” and tried to tug my hands out of his grasp.
His grip tightened as he let out a deep chuckle that sent shivers up and down my spine. “Oh no, you’ve had plenty of time to choose that option.”
As his free hand reached for me and my stomach clenched in anticipation of the saddle digging into it, I swatted it away and snapped, “Fine! I will get on your horse.”
He let go of my hand and in the span of a blink of the eye, a claw-tipped finger sliced through the bindings around my wrist.
So he could transform pieces of his body at will? The thought was unnerving.
Knowing that refusal would get me nowhere, I put my boot into the stirrup and hauled myself up into the saddle with a sigh. Upon getting comfortable and staring down at him, he cleared his throat and motioned me back with his hand.
“Surely you didn’t think I’d be a gentleman and let you have the saddle after you made it so clear you wished to be anywhere but on your own horse? Move to the back.”
I clenched my jaw and my teeth ground together.
How the tables were turning and consequences were meeting actions. It turned out my ass was going to be the one unable to sit tomorrow.
I pushed myself up and worked my body over the cantle of the saddle before settling in with my legs widened to accommodate the thicker part of the horse's body. I eyed the ground with longing. How I truly wished to be walking now.
Holding up the rope still in his hand, he instructed, “Wrap this around your back and hold it until I’m in my seat.”
One of my eyebrows rose in question but I did as he said. The horse let out a grunt as he hoisted himself into the seat, and suddenly I felt awful that the poor animal was having to carry both of our weight because of my antics.
“You know, I really do promise that I’ll stay in my seat if—” I began, but was quickly cut off as he reached back for the two ends of the rope and roughly tightened it, making me huff.
My mouth widened in shock as I realized what he was doing. I scrambled, pushing away from him, but it was too late. My chest and cheek squeezed flush against his back as my body was tugged forward with the force, my hips tilted back with the saddle still between us.
The asshole had literally tied me to him.
My back and ribs flared with pain when I attempted to wiggle back and put space between our bodies, finding no slack in the rope to work with.
“Bastard,” I ground out, hating him more than ever, but a part of my body softened against him, seeking the warmth he had to offer in this frigid air. It was far more than any human I’d been in contact with.
“Wench,” he shot back before clicking his tongue for the horse to walk forward.
Instantly, I was jostled with the way my body moved along with the horse's hips in motion, and my arms fell to the drackya’s hips to steady myself. He didn’t respond, which shocked me. I thought he’d snarl and tell me it was a disease to be touched by a human.
I thought fondly of my dagger he’d taken, wishing I’d left it sheathed against my thigh to be used to cut the rope at this moment.
“We will need to make haste if we are to avoid the first snowfall and the last minute hunting parties the beasts will take to prepare their bellies for it,” he announced before the reins snapped against the horses neck, sending us into a canter as we neared the end of the pass. Trees beckoned to us from the end.
Although we were heading into the winter season now, we shouldn’t be due for any snow for another couple weeks. The leylines ensured stable weather patterns, and the only place that should have snow was the more northern territory of Andrathya, where it laid upon the mountainous peaks year round. Our people had specifically settled in the southern part of our lands long ago, due to the warmer climate that was more habitable for humans to exist within during the harsh winters.
Just as the thought crossed my mind, the smallest drops of snow began to fall around us, coating the tops of the trees and open path cutting through the forest. As it settled onto us and melted, wetting my dress, I gritted my teeth and pressed myself further into his body as a new chill settled into my bones.
How was this possible? Were the ley lines growing unstable?
The tiniest of chuckles shook his body, the vibrations flowing into my own, and my brow pinched into a scowl as a thought occurred to me. If he had magic and control of ice, did he call the snow down on purpose to ensure I stayed close to him for warmth to further humiliate me?
To show that I needed him in some small way? Perhaps it wasn’t the ley lines at all, but his errant magic.
