Chapter 16
“You wanted your family to find us,” Marcus accused.
Sage opened her mouth to put forth an excuse and then closed it, swallowing heavily. Caught. “That was before we decided we were working together.”
He clenched his fist around the pieces of parchment and whirled, storming toward the horse.
“Where are you going?” Sage asked as panic brewed inside of her.
“I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” she echoed, trailing him. “Leaving where?”
He spun on her, his form as imposing as a dark cloud. “Leavingyou.”
Her stomach fell. “But we’re working together,” she said weakly. “You said you would teach me to read.”
He held up his clenched fist with the parchment in it. “Not only did you leave a trail for your family, but for those men who attacked us. They followed your trail. That’s how they found us.”
Surprise washed over Sage. He was right. She had led those assassins right to them. She had almost gotten them killed.
He tossed the parchment aside in disgust and held his hand out. “Give me the book.”
“Marcus,” she said softly, pleadingly.
“Give it to me,” he commanded.
She jumped at the anger in his voice. She had never seen him so furious. She reached into her armor and pulled the book out, handing it to him.
He snatched it from her and continued to the horse.
Sage stood despondently. It was her fault they had been attacked; she didn’t blame him for wanting nothing further to do with her. Stupid, she berated herself. She should have known better. She should have known others would be looking for the book. She watched him walk away, his back stiff with anger, his fists clenched. He could have been killed.
She inhaled a shaky breath. Heshouldleave her. She had endangered his life with a foolish decision. And yet, she didn’t want him to. She walked up to him as he saddled the horse.
She watched his quick, angry movements for a moment, knowing this was the last time she would see him. “I’m sorry.” She bent and picked up one of the saddlebags, handing it to him.
“I don’t want your apology,” he snapped, ripping the bag from her hand to attach it to the saddle.
She bowed her head, allowing his fury to wash over her.
He growled quietly and whirled, tying the saddlebag to the saddle.
She truly didn’t blame him for being so angry. She should have known others could follow her trail. But the thought had not crossed her mind. She was leaving the trail for her sisters. She should have thought of the danger she was putting them both in. Now, it was too late. She stepped back, giving him room to prepare to leave.
He finished attaching the saddlebags and mounted the horse.
Sage took another step back, twisting her hands before her. He was the first man to kiss her. And she had betrayed his trust just as she was beginning to like him. The pain in her chest and the extreme disappointment in herself was worse than any physical wound she’d ever had—even when Willow had accidentally sliced her arm with a sword. She stared up at Marcus, trying to memorize his features. His short blond hair jerked with his harsh movements. His jaw was stiff with rage. His eyes snapped fire as he stared at her. There was nothing she could say to him. Because if it were her, she would feel the same way.
He reined in the horse and charged away from her.
Marcus was furious as he urged the horse toward the road. He couldn’t believeshewas the reason those attackers had found them! How was he supposed to depend on her? Depend on her? he scoffed. She was only supposed to decipher the book, and she couldn’t even do that. He clenched his fists around the reins. She had endangered her own life as well as his. His jaw tightened so hard it hurt. How could she not have known others would track her trail? She was a rational, intelligent, clever woman. She should have known better.
And still, a nagging urge to return to her filled him. Why did he think he should not leave her alone in the middle of the forest? Why was he convinced he was doing the wrong thing?
She had stood, not arguing, not professing her innocence. Just standing in the moonlight with tall shadows that could hide assassins or rapists lingering all around her. Her hands had been nervously wringing, her uneven hair hanging around her face. She could have been killed as well as him.
God’s blood! With numerous muttered oaths, he turned the horse around and rode back to her. She still stood there with her shoulders hunched, watching. So small, so...damned alone. His heart twisted despite every effort to stop it, despite every effort to tell himself he was right. He reined the horse in before her, glaring down at her.
