Absolutely not.
She gave her head a sharp shake, banishing the thoughts as he lifted her onto the horse, settling her upright across the barebacked beast. A moment later, he swung up behind her, arms bracketing her on either side, his warmth pressing in close.
Then, strong, careful hands secured her in place, his arms a solid cage around her. Her pulse tripped over itself, but she did not squirm. She was fine. Totally fine. And soon, the rhythmic clop of hooves filled the quiet as they neared the castle, the vast fields giving way to well-trodden roads.
Emmaline readjusted her hips, clearing her throat. “So… what were you doing out there anyway? I thought you’d gone home for the day.”
Behind her, Deyric tensed. “I sawLordCaelith as I was on my way out,” he said after a pause. “He wanted a spare shirt to bring with him on the hunt he had planned with Lord Dryling.”
Emmaline frowned. “Dryling? He lives on the other side of the city.”
No. No, that couldn’t be right. Caelith was supposed to be in the Northern forests. Lady Isolde had said—
Her stomach churned, unease pressing down like a stone. Lady Isolde had tricked her.
She gnawed on the edge of a fingernail. “So… what? You knew he wouldn’t be in the Northern forest like Lady Isolde suggested, knew I would sneak out to look for him, and decided to come look for me?”
Deyric’s breath warmed the nape of her neck. “Would that be so odd?”
“Well… yes. It would be odd.” Her eyes turned upward to the moon, round and luminous against the dark sky. “You barely know me. And what you do know isn’t exactly… favorable.” She turned her head slightly, trying to catch his expression. “You know what happened.” She swallowed, the words thick in her throat. “What I did.”
He knew, but no one had come for her; no alarm had been raised.
She hesitated. “The Patrol must be looking for… that woman.”
Deyric’s silence stretched between them. His face remained unreadable.
“But you haven’t told anyone.” It wasn’t a question. He could have. Should have. But somehow, she knew he hadn’t. “Not evenCaelith.”
A flash of something passed over his features, but it was gone before she could name it.
“Do you intend to hold it over my head?” Her voice dipped, quieter now. She forced herself to look forward, to keep her breathing steady. “Or use it in exchange for…” She cringed. “Favors?”
Deyric exhaled. Not quite a laugh. Not quite not one, either. “Are you truly this clueless?”
She said nothing.Clueless?
She felt him move behind her, then the slow, deliberate press of his head against her back.
“I will not tell anyone. Nor will I ever use the information to demand anything from you that you wouldn’t otherwise give freely.”
“You promise?” Her voice was smaller than she meant it to be, the question fragile in the night air.
“Yes, Emmaline. You have my word.” His arms tightened around her. “I will protect you. Always.” Then, his voice morphed to something softer, full of wry amusement. “Even from your greatest enemy, which…” He exhaled a laugh against her shoulder. “Appears to be yourself.”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the absurdity of it—the truth of it—hit at the same time. A giggle bubbled up from deep in her belly, surprising even her. “You’re not wrong there.”
The castle loomed ahead, its towering spires glowing softly under the moonlight, assuring safety, or at least, the illusion of it.
Emmaline should have felt relief, but she didn’t. Instead, the night wrapped around her, thick with bruises, blood, and the crushing press of truth. Deyric had found her when no one else had botheredto look. He had saved her when she hadn’t even realized she needed saving.
And he knew everything. Yet, as they rode toward the gates, his arms still holding her, she couldn’t decide which unsettled her more.
Why would Deyric make such promises? She hadn’t been exactly pleasant to him. Or that she trusted him, for whatever reason, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to run and search for Caelith.
The thought lodged in her ribs as they rode. She gathered the fabric of her dress in a tight grip, nails digging in as a ripple of unease worked its way through her chest. But if she didn’t want to run to Caelith any longer, did it mean her friends had been right? That Caelith wasn’t her mate? And if that was true—
Then she had killed that woman for nothing?
