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To give the horse another minute for the anti-poison to continue working, Joel picked up his flute and brushed the snow off the instrument. It reminded him of Nyana. Beautiful. Unique. Special.
Not able to wait a single moment longer, he lifted the flute to his lips and played a slow melody. Several small beads of light formed around him, growing larger with each passing second until they became glowing orbs the size of his fist. Golden light glanced off the snow as he maneuvered them like a puppet master. Searching. Seeking.
He lowered his flute and stepped carefully across the snow, his studious gaze missing nothing from deer tracks to bird prints. Above him, the stillness of snowfall unlatched its gate until large, white flakes spilled from the sky in twirling, dancing patterns.
One landed on his nose, melting as it touched his skin.
He needed to hurry.
Barely holding back fettered panic, his gaze roamed over large male footprints near where Sunweave now stood, flicking his tail. A larger print resembled something—or someone—getting dragged, followed by no tracks at all. Ethan or Cole had carried Nyana away, which meant either Nyana couldn’t walk, or she’d been unconscious.
Or dead.
Another wave of dread knocked the air out of him, and he barely managed to stumble toward the horse and climb into the saddle. Sunweave remained steady, slowly becoming stronger by the minute. Not waiting for Killian to return, he kicked the horse forward.
And he followed the footprints at a trot, trying to beat the falling snowflakes before the snow covered the tracks completely.
Chapter 18
“Uh!” Nyana grunted, hitting the cold, rotting wooden pallet hard enough for her head to spin when Ethan dropped her. The stench of dirt and decay permeated her nostrils, the damp ground seeping into her clothing.
Pain clamped onto her ankle, discouraging after she’d only just healed from her last leg injury. She attempted to move her foot, only to hold back a whimper. But she didn’t want to inspect it, afraid to bring too much attention to herself.
So this was it. After months of evading death, it finally came to this. These men meant to kill her. If she could just drag out her likely inevitable fate, she might be able to give Joel and the children enough time to flee.
Another grunt escaped her as Ethan placed his boot on her shoulder and shoved her over, so she found herself staring up at his one eye. Her temple throbbed where Cole had struck her with a rock. He reminded her so much of Liam. Whatever anyone would do to him, he would do back to them. But harder.
Cole fidgeted nervously where he stood beside the door, gazing out at the darkening woods. “You know Joel.” The man ran a hand through his hair until it stuck up in all directions. “He’ll be coming. You know he will find a way.”
“You should have killed him.”
“But the girl… She nearly split my head right open with that scream.”
Ethan crossed the small barn-like enclosure and lit a lamp, the firelight casting a glow across the dark whiskers on his face. Nyana blinked against the small light, surveying her surroundings. Dark, damp wood rotted on the walls. Several ceiling beams lay skewed on the ground, threatening to collapse the entire structure over their heads. Damp, rotting pallets littered the ground as mice skittered from corner to corner, taking shelter within wet hay.
“Don’t hesitate this time then.” Ethan shoved his loaded crossbow into Cole’s hands, a snarl on his face. “And aim for the eye.”
Nyana squeezed her eyes shut, praying Joel wouldn’t walk into this trap. And she prayed even harder that he wouldn’t bring the girls.
“As for her…” Ethan nodded toward Nyana. “Let’s leave a present for our old friend when he arrives.” A wicked grin curled on his lips as he picked up a rope piled in the corner, running the rough weave through his hands. “We could just shoot you. But I want you to suffer a little like you made my brother suffer. And my mother. And my cousin.” He looked her up and down while grimacing. “You are nothing like Genica. You are small and weak. I don’t know what Joel sees in you.”
Past memories gutted her as she suddenly found herself facing Liam and not Ethan. She recalled all the times he’d torn her down. Shriveled her to nothing. The threats. The insults. The harm.
Instinct caused her to lower her gaze, to make herself smaller. “My only crime is being married to your former king. If I could have stopped him, I would have.”
“Pathetic excuses. Begging won’t bring back my family. It won’t bring back Joel’s, either.”
Guilt returned with a good thrashing at the reminder of Joel’s loved ones. Of the family she had loved once, too. She should have done more. Tried harder. Given everything.
But she’d lost one child trying to stop Liam. She feared she would have lost more for trying harder.
“What do you want?” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as her teeth chattered from the cold. “Money? Land? A title?” If it kept her alive, she would beg on her hands and knees for Calle’s help.
“Your death.”
Her lungs collapsed on a single breath as she curled farther into a ball. Fear lodged in her throat. She wasn’t ready to die. There were so many things she still wanted to do. Life she had not yet lived. Freedom she had not yet tasted. Children she had not yet born. Love she had not yet had enough time to experience and explore. Her girls needed her.
When Ethan started toward her with the rope in his hands, she scrambled backward until her back hit the mildewy wall. The coldness of his expression sent a chill down her spine. He was going to kill her. And he wouldn’t stop until he did.
