But she managed to wipe off the worst of it, desperately scrubbing with shaky hands, and fighting to ignore the feel of Natt’s eyes, watching her. He hadn’t yet moved, he was still sitting there with his legs spread, spattered with white. And it wasn’t until Ella had hurled the ruined dress to the floor, and yanked on her shift over her head, that she finally risked a glance up again, at those blinking black eyes.
And in this moment, rather than the dazed warmth they’d held before, those eyes just looked — pained. Almost — hurt, or maybe even reproachful. As if this were somehow Ella’s fault, as if Ella were in the least responsible for this complete and utterdisaster, rather thanhim.
“Are you happy now?” she heard her thin voice say. “Now that you’ve had me, and used me, andruinedme, for your pettyrevenge?!”
There was another moment’s stillness, broken only by the heavy sound of his breath. “I have not ruined you,” he said, oddly strained. “I drew no blood. You bore no seed. This vengeance was not against you.”
The words caught Ella up short, staring at him from where she was yanking on her boots with her shuddery, sparking fingers. “Good gods, Natt,” she choked out. “Do you really think this won’t affect me? I was supposed to do that with Alfred, I’m supposed to marryAlfred, and become a reallady, and what the hell will he do if heeverfinds out I gave my maidenhead to an actualorc?!“
Her voice had gone high-pitched and panicked, her shaky body backing toward the door, and suddenly Natt was on his feet, towering huge over her, dragging up his trousers with tight clawed fists. “You wished for this, lass,” he hissed. “You asked me for this. You tookjoyin this.”
No, no, she hadn’t, she couldn’t, and Ella desperately shook her head, and fumbled behind her for the door-latch. “I can’t,” she breathed. “I’m to be a reallady, Natt. Ican’t.”
And here was the need, lurching and desperate, for Natt to understand again, to agree, toknow— but his big body had only gone stiffer above her, his eyes flaring, his head shaking. “You shall not be a lady,” he growled, his voice slow, deliberate, vibrating with power and purpose. “You shall be what you are. And you are a woman who chose to give your maidenhead tome!”
There was no answering him, no justifying that, no thought no sense no safety — and Ella blindly grasped for the door, yanked it open, and ran.
11
Ella hadgivenhermaidenhoodto anorc.
The reality of that, the utter impossibility of that, thundered again and again as she ran, sprinting and ducking around trees and brambles and ponds and ditches. Following her own ancient well-trodden paths, from years ago, a lifetime ago — and though the paths were thick and grown over now, they were still there, here, part of her, utterly unchanged, deep inside.
Just like the appalling, incomprehensible part of her that hadgiven her maidenhood to an orc.
It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense, not least the fact that Ella was runningaway. Away from her lands, from her house, from the memories of that awful engagement-party, from every tedious, painful, endlessly banal day she’d lived these past years. Making the proper impression, pleasing the proper people, moving in the proper circles, putting on the proper face. Everything the realm’s richest, most desirable heiress was supposed to do.
She leapt over one last stream, and scrambled up the rocky familiar hill, toward the old familiar copse of trees. So much taller than they’d once been, their branches thicker and closer together, but they were still there, stillsafe— and Ella dashed into the midst of them, and finally stopped. Pressing her hands to her sweaty face, and dragging in heaving, gasping gulps of the cool night air.
What in all the gods’ holy creation had she justdone.
She kept hauling in air, almost choking on it as the memories dipped and swirled. Don’t stop.Please, Natt. I want this from you. I’ve been waiting so long.
I’d have given upeverything. If you’d just —asked.
And yes, Ella had said those things. She’d said those things, and perhaps she’d even meant them — to anorc. Abeast, who’d left her without a single word of farewell, and who’d thenkidnappedher, and threatened to kill her household. And who’d just freely admitted to doing that — taking that heated, filthy,indescribablepleasure together — asvengeance. Against Ella’s betrothedhusband.
Ella sagged back against the nearest tree-trunk, and let her hands fall from her blinking, oddly wet eyes. Natt couldn’t be trusted. Alfred couldn’t be trusted. No one could. She had to be in this for her family, for her father’s legacy, forher.
She had to go back home.
It was the only possible solution, of course — but Ella couldn’t seem to make her legs work, couldn’t risk going out beyond the protection of the trees. The sun was just beginning to rise, she was wearing only a sleeping-shift, and even if she did manage to sneak back into the house without a full interrogation from her mother, next there would be thank-you cards to write to the party guests, invitations to tea from well-wishers, dress fittings and gossip sessions and dinner plans — all the while thinking ofthis. OfNatt.
There was a faint, telltale crack from the tree above her, and Ella’s heart skipped, awareness prickling down her back — and when her head snapped up to look, there he was.Natt. Balanced silent and graceful on a trembling branch, his long black claws digging deep into the thick tree-trunk, holding him aright. As though he’d always been there, watching over her, waiting.
He leapt down with a swift, fluid ease, landing lightly on the balls of his bare feet, his black braid flaring up behind him. Standing here in front of her, tall and broad and bare-chested, with his sword strapped back to his side, the pack slung over his shoulder, the water-skin in his clawed hand. And looking at him, something seemed to slam all the breath out of Ella’s lungs at once, clamping tight and close around her chest.
“Still that good at stalking your prey, are you?” her voice croaked, for want of anything else to say, and Natt’s shoulders sagged a little, his hand holding out the half-full water-skin toward her.
“Ach,” he said, quiet. “And you are yet the easiest of all, lass.”
The memory flared up without warning, their mad games of hide and seek, tromping and laughing through the forest. Almost always with Ella hiding, because Natt had been way too good at it — but he’d always been too good at seeking her out, too, following her scent through fields and marshes and streams and even, once, across alake.
I should find you anywhere, lass, he would say, warm and smug, flashing her his sharp-toothed grin. I know your scent better than any other.
And it was odd, Ella thought disjointedly, as she belatedly grasped the water-skin and brought it to her mouth, that hehadn’tfound her at any point, after he’d left. It had been so easy for him, second nature, and why could he not have just taken a moment, come to her, and saidsomething—
I had reasons for this, he’d said, and Ella hadn’t actually heard any legitimate ones, had she? And as she handed the water-skin back, wiping at her mouth with her sleeping-shift’s sleeve, she drew in breath, about to ask —
