Page 3 of A Tempest of Shadows

Then, he wasn’t as heavily muscled but war had a way of creating muscles that weren’t there before. His dark, hickory-brown hair was also shorter then. Now, it tumbled around his face in waves that almost touched his shoulders.

Clean-shaven, the man’s jaw could cut glass, and from what I’d heard, he’d sliced through the ghouls with unrelenting purpose. His full lips compressed together as his eyes remained closed.

My heart raced as it had the first time I met him, on a snowy night when a magnetic storm trapped him and his father on their way back to Locksley castle. The blizzard made it impossible for them to open a portal, and when they came across our manor, my father invited them to stay the night.

My parents welcomed them into our home, and my mother had the servants make a meal fit for a king. We sat around the table, laughing and drinking while I cast surreptitious glances at Ryker. I was only seventeen, and my mother allowed me a small glass of wine; I wasn’t as intoxicated as them, but I felt giddy.

Growing up on our large farm, safe among the servants and immortals who worked the fields and helped care for our prize-winning horses, I’d still been too young to venture into society. I also wasn’t in any rush to do so.

I was happy to remain at the manor, play in the woods, and run wild with Scarlet. Society was still a scary, foreign word for me back then.

At twenty-one, I would make my way into society and have my debut. I would dance at the parties, drink all the drinks, and try not to make a fool of myself, all while looking forward to returning home.

Except, none of that happened. The Ghoul War started, my father died, we lost or released most of our servants, and my life was tossed into chaos. Our whole realm was.

There were no more parties and no chance for me to enter society and dance in King Leonidas’s palace. I never got my coming out, but I wasn’t sad about that.

Instead, my mother and I took charge of the manor; the king went to war, where the ghouls captured him, and his corrupt, asshole brother seized the throne. Once in charge, Prince Ivan raised the taxes and plunged most of the amsirah in Tempest into poverty to ransom his brother.

I didn’t believe Prince Ivan ever planned to ransom his brother. I doubted that any of the money he raised ever found its way to those who’d held King Leonidas prisoner. I’d bet it was all still sitting in Prince Ivan’s coffers.

The prince was a leech—one who had drained his brother’s kingdom dry and was slowly destroying all the immortals within it.

Prince Ivan didn’t pretend the higher taxes were for a ransom anymore; it was difficult to do so when everyone in the kingdom knew King Leonidas was dead. Prince Ivan claimed the money would rebuild the kingdom, but I’d yet to see proof.

Hence, why I was here, putting my neck on the line with the Scourge of the Ghouls’ money in my hands. I had to get out of there!

A shifting inside alerted me someone else was in the carriage. My eyes widened when I spotted the woman kneeling between Ryker’s legs, and my stomach plummeted as I realized the woman had her mouth on his….

I jerked away from the window as my heart slammed against my ribs. How had I missed that detail of what was happening inside?

Easily, I was completely distracted by the mountain of a man within. And he was so focused on getting his dick sucked that he hadn’t noticed me, which was a blessing considering I’d been standing there, gawking like an idiot instead of getting off this carriage.

I checked my mask and ensured my black hood still covered my hair, but it didn’t matter if my formfitting black clothes helped keep me hidden, I was already out of view of the couple in the back. If, for some reason, one of them did look out, they’d only see a slender man preparing to flee since my hair remained covered, and I’d strapped my breasts down to keep them concealed.

Trying to forget about the man who had entranced me since I was seventeen, I gripped the money against my chest and leapt off the back.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ryker

When the carriage clattered to a halt, I buttoned my pants as Dorothy rose from her knees. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she settled across from me and fluffed her hair.

“I don’t do that for just anyone,” she told me as she licked her lips.

I draped my arm across the back of the seat and focused on the window behind her as she settled her skirt around her. She was a pretty woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, and she wanted more than a ride from me, but I wasn’t looking for a wife or interested in any of the women vying for my attention since I’d returned from the war and captivity.

Or at least I didn’t want anything outside of the fun Dorothy provided. Sex and booze only provided brief interruptions from the memories of everything I’d seen, endured, and lost, but I would take those distractions whenever I could get them.

“You can do it for whoever you want,” I assured her. “I won’t stop you.”

I ignored her glare while I waited for the door to open… and waited… and waited. Growing annoyed, I was about to open it myself when the door flew open; a flustered, red-faced Sampson stood outside the carriage.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired.

“Mi… mi….”

I frowned as Sampson continued stammering, and the man looked about to keel over. I rested my hand against the door and shoved it the rest of the way open, nearly knocking him over.