Page 73 of Outcast’s Vow

“Sure.”

Nothing rattles her. Except Fabien’s name, it seems.

“Last one to that fence has to admit she’s smitten,” I announce.

“You bet.”

And Jolie’s horse is bounding away before I even get the chance to react. She gallops to the fence as if her life depends on it. Hooves hammer the turf in a clean and powerful jolt to the finish line.

“That wasn’t even a race,” Jolie calls back, waiting, as my own horse trots up. “You’re too damn slow, Mrs. Tremblay.”

“Damn.”

“Admit it. You’re smitten with your husband.”

“Fine. I admit it. I’m as smitten with my husband as you are with Fabien.”

Jolie shoots me a dangerous look, which makes me laugh. I don’t know much about what went down between Fabien and Jolie, but it was something big. Fabien’s friends with Clement, and sometime during their teenage years, he and Jolie hooked up. In secret.

Without Clement knowing.

Without Clement’s approval.

And then something happened between the two of them, and now Jolie and Fabien don’t speak anymore. In fact, they hate each other. And Clement still doesn’t know they got together. Probably because if he did, Fabien wouldn’t see another sunrise.

I don’t doubt he would kill his best friend for touching his sister.

The cool wind threads through my hair.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s head back.”

“And then spicy margaritas?”

“That sounds perilously like a plan.”

We continue riding down the path until my family's mansion comes into view. I glance up into the windows of the grand old building, still the primary residence of my parents. My mother is in there now, somewhere in the darkness. Maybe she’s even at the window, watching us like a ghost.

She’s a woman who chose the life of being a subservient wife to a Castaways Supreme Elder. She spends her days stuck in that mansion, with no independence since the day she took part in the Castaway Chase all those years ago and was claimed by my father. She is supposed to have no opinion of her own.

But she made that choice. Willingly.

The leather reins burn into my palms. I’ve been holding on to them too tight.

I think about Jolie’s words. It’s always the same worry with me. Could all his talk of liking me be all lies? Is Baptiste solely with me because of my father? He was so coy about his family. He was afraid to open up, even to me. Haven’t I done enough to prove I’m not a threat?

How can I make him know I want us to be a team?

I quickly check my phone.

No text from him. No message. No communication since I last saw him this morning.

Maybe sleeping with him was a mistake. Maybe it made me easier to control. I mean, look at me obsessing over him now...

I just want to know more about my husband. I don’t want to just feel like his trophy. I don’t want to be my mother.

My new husband can’t be faking it all.

Surely not?