“There is nae a need to explain,” I interrupted, though I wanted to scream at him that no words he could give me would change the fact that he wanted to use me for gain. That I was not worthy enough for him to simply choose me, and what was best for me, if those choices cost him his prizes. “I understand,” I added, because he looked like he was still going to try to explain.
“Ye do?” The relief on his face made me want to slap him.
“Aye,” I replied, gently tugging my hand out of his hold, standing, and turning to find my gown. I had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable in my life.
“What are ye doing?”
“Getting dressed,” I said, my mind spinning. “Ye are clearly well enough for us to ride immediately to the Dark Woods and then to the king. There are others still hunting me, aye?”
“Aye,” James said, the heat of his response, tickling my neck. I could feel him behind me, all power and deceit, the bloody Highlander. I stepped forward, out of his reach, hoping he thought I put distance between us simply to don my gown.
“Are they like Siward was? Should I be fearful?” I asked.
“We should be careful,” he said slowly. “Conn, the only tracker left looking for ye, is a liar and a cheat, but nae a murderer.”
That, at least, made me feel better, but also reinforced my decision that my wisest course of action was to stay with James until I reached the Dark Woods, then, after I confronted Morgana, I would flee James. I forced myself to face him once more and found him studying me. I could not raise his suspicion, so I gave him, I hoped, a teasing look, and then I said, “Do ye think ye are able to ride hard to the Dark Woods?”
“Am I able?” he scoffed, playing right into my trap. Men and their pride. “Are ye able?” he countered.
“With ye by my side, I’ll make it there,” I said, feeling a swell of vindictive smugness that blessedly dulled the pain for a moment.
Chapter Seventeen – James
The farther we rode from the river, the more certain I became that something was bothering Katreine. She had withdrawn slightly. I’d spend enough days watching her now to notice the difference in her. Her easy smile did not come, and she did not look directly in my eyes, and her laughter seemed forced to me. Some invisible distance now stretched between us, and I suspected it had begun the moment I’d told her the entire truth.
God’s blood, perhaps I should not have said anything yet. But after joining with her, after holding her while she trembled apart around me, I’d wanted honesty between us at last, and I’d wanted her to understand I intended to make something worthy of offering her. Instead, it seemed my honesty had caused her to once more raise walls between us.
I frowned at the back of her head as our horses picked carefully through the dense forest trail winding toward the Dark Woods. “Katreine.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Aye?”
The sunlight filtering through the trees caught in the loose strands of her dark hair, and despite everything, desire curled low and warm through my belly. God’s blood, I could still remember exactly how that hair had looked spread around her when I entered her. “Ye’ve been quiet.”
“Have I?”
“Aye.”
She hummed noncommittally and turned her attention back toward the trail.
I studied her a moment longer before asking carefully, “Are ye angry with me?”
Her shoulders stiffened faintly. Then, before I could press further, she gestured toward the narrow stream cutting through the trees beside us. “How do ye tell direction from moving water?”
I blinked at the abrupt shift. “What?”
“The stream,” she repeated. “If ye were lost entirely, how would ye ken which way ye traveled?”
I eyed her curiously but answered anyway. “Depends upon the land. Streams often run downhill toward larger rivers. Ye learn where the larger rivers lie, and ye can generally judge direction from there.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “And moss?”
“What about it?”
“Does it truly grow thicker on one side of the stone?”
“Aye. Usually northward where sunlight reaches less.”
She tilted her head, seemingly considering my answer. “What else?” she asked after a moment. “How else do ye read the land?”
