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I grimaced.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I cleaned the shackles before putting them on your true love.”
“He’s not my—” I started to rebel, only to realize I couldn’t. There was no denying the response of his mark to me. But I had to deny something, so I pointed at him and snarled, “That piece of High Cliff trash is nothing to me.”
Melaina only smiled. “You’re not going to argue the bringing-him-along part, though?” Lifting her eyebrows, she blew out a low, impressed whistle. “That’s surprising.”
“Because I was sure I was hearing things when you said that.” Spinning away, I began to gather my things and pack them for travel.
The village of Tyler wasn’t just going to come to us.
And besides, I felt the urgent need to flee just now.
“There’s no way in God’s name we’re bringing that man with us,” I said, clenching my teeth as I yanked with all my might to pull my second dagger from the trunk of another tree.
“Well, we can’t leave him here. You and I both know he’ll just follow you. And you’ve already decided not to kill him.”
When I frowned her way, she lifted a finger. “And don’t try to deny it. It’s written all over your face. You don’t want him dead.”
I snorted and turned away, jamming my things into the saddlebags.
“Think about it, dear heart. He’s like your own personal medical kit. Being your true love, he can fix any boo-boo you get with a single kiss. And he’ll protect you at any cost. He’d give up his life for yours.”
When I sniffed again and sent her a disbelieving glance, she grinned and shrugged.
“Plus, I’m sure he’ll willingly help you shed that pesky virginity of yours. It’s about time if you ask me.”
My mouth dropped open. “Have you forgotten that he’s a High Clifter?” I argued. “Their kind is designed to kill my kind. I don’t care what idiotic, romantic notion his mark puts into his head, he’s dangerous, so I don’t want him here. If you do this—this keeping-him thing—then you’re responsible for him. And you make sure he stays far away from me. You hear?”
She blinked, then let her mouth drop open. “Honestly, I can’t believe you gave in that easily.”
“Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do?!” I shouted, yanking off my frock so I could change into a pair of traveling trousers and a tunic. Then I stomped my way into sturdy boots. “You just said so yourself: we can’t kill him for no good reason, and leaving him behind would be fruitless. Even if he didn’t follow us, I wouldn’t want him running free to tell just anyone where we were. There’s nothing else that can be done. But—” Lifting a hand to cover him from my peripheral vision, because the blurred vision of him I was seeing from the corner of my eye was distracting as hell. “You deal with him, or I will put him down. I refuse to interact with the monster at all. I may be his true love. But he is not mine. From here on out, he’s your pet to take care of and feed and water. Got it?”
Melaina lifted an interested eyebrow and hummed deep in her throat as she glanced at the High Clifter. “Of course,” she murmured. “And I accept him. Thank you, dear niece. I promise to take good care of your true love.”
On the ground, the stranger groaned and began to stir.
Fuck. I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the wind, hoping for a miracle to end this moment, because I was so not ready for whatever happened next.
“Son of a bitch,” he rumbled, wincing as he tried to lift his bound hands toward his face. “Not again.”
Pausing when he realized he wore shackles, he lifted his head from the ground and opened one eye to peer at them. “What the hell?”
A second after that, he sucked in a breath and veered his attention directly toward me. His eyes were already a dark blue, but they seemed to deepen into a clear azure sky right before a sunset when they focused on me.
“Holy shit.” Surging upright, he remained sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands bound together near his waist.
“You...” He started, his voice breathless as if someone had just sucker punched him in the diaphragm. Then he shook his head slowly as he gazed at me with complete awareness, taking me in from head to toe.
“Hello,” he finally greeted, his voice going husky and soft.
Something uncomfortable and tense whirled through me. My pulse picked up, and oxygen levels went light. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew he was the source—or more on point, his interested gaze was the source. And I needed it to stop.
So I narrowed my eyes. “Stop staring at me or I’ll gouge your eyes out.”
His eyebrows shot sky-high. A moment later, his gaze darkened.
“That’s right,” he murmured, air hissing from his lungs. “Shit.” He blew out a long breath and gazed up at the leaves of the trees around us with dazed shock. “You’re a Graykey.”
