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Chapter 2
Icouldn’t stop shaking, and it had zero to do with the chill in the air. Ever since leaving the markets and making my way through the Terra woods, I’d turned into a trembling leaf. The morning sun found me through the gaps in the canopy overhead but did nothing to warm me. Heading to White Peak ought to have excited me, yet goosebumps broke out across myarms.
I kicked a pebble on the dirt track, sending the rock into a shrub. Birds sang overhead, and I pulled the backpack up my shoulders, stepping over a dead log, when the faint smell of brewing coffee teased mynostrils.
The Hideout sat on the edge of town, a tiny shop selling the fresh brew to anyone willing to trek into the woods. I confess… I was addicted, and most mornings I made the pilgrimage to their shop. My mouth salivated… and considering I had a day’s walk ahead of me, I’d be a fool not to grab a cup first. I swung left and followed the hypnotizingaroma.
Amid the trees, a wooden hut came into view. No roof, rustic, and big enough for only two people to stand in, with tables and chairs peppered out front. A young woman I’d greeted most mornings waved my way, and I returned the gesture as I approached the covered stall. I lounged against the counter, staring into the small hut, which was comprised of a small room, shelves across the back wall, and bowls of coffee beans and stacked glasseseverywhere.
“Bee, you’re late today,” the owner, Hans, said, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. A drop of milk lay on the edge of his curled mustache. Normally, I'd have no qualms reaching up to wipe it off, but his boyfriend, who was serving another customer at the moment, would probably object if he thought I was flirting. “Yourusual?”
“You know me. Heavy on the milk with a dollop of honey. Put it on mytab.”
“Gotit.”
Someone stepped alongside me, their shadow blocking thesunshine.
“Still with the honey, Bee? Thought you were watching your waistline. Hans, make mine thesame.”
I gritted my teeth at the sound of Tristan’s voice. “Hey, Hans,” I said. “Add two dollops of honey to mybrew.”
Tristan sighed, and I responded as I walked away. “Still a dickhead, hey? Oh, no need to answer. You’ve somehow morphed into anasshole.”
Footsteps closed in behind me, and he clutched my arm, forcing me to face him. I played it cool, not showing how much his griphurt.
“I should arrest you for talking to me thatway.”
Lifting my head, I took in his short, cropped hair, his creased nose, and the flatness of his mocha eyes. The gray guard uniform jacket with golden buttons pulled taut across his wide chest. Tristan wasn’t ugly, and he carried great ammunition in the downstairs department, but that wasn’t enough when paired with his vulgar mouth and attitude. Something I’d been blind to when he’d first caught my eye, always falling too easily for a handsomeface.
“Would that turn you on?” I arched abrow.
“Damn, Bee.” He dragged me behind the hunt, and I stumbled alongside him. “Don’t say shit in front of others. What you and I do is private. And why are you carrying such a huge bag? Looks too heavy for you. Where are you going?” he sneered, his facetense.
I smirked and yanked my hand free. “We are never doing anything in private or public again. And who are you to comment on what I carry? The bag patrol? What do youwant?”
“What happened to you?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “This isn’t the Bee Iremember.”
With a deep huff, I rubbed my eyes. “We haven’t been dating for months because you’re a possessive psycho, and I don’t dance that way. Told you before. Go get yourself a girl who wants nothing more than to marry and please her husband. That’s not me.” I craved a man who put me first, always asked me what I wanted and then delivered—and someone who loved traveling. Yep, the latter was amust.
He tilted his head, studying me, and I sifted through my thoughts on which rebuttal he’d come back with. We’ve had this conversation half a dozen times already, and his argument toggled between giving me everything a good wife could want in her home to arresting my dad until I agreed to marry him. Yeah, the perfect way to start a strongrelationship.
The fault was mine for ever dating him. Not a mistake I’d makeagain.
“Back in the markets, I watched the way you aggressively addressed those guards. What stops me from taking you into the dungeons rightnow?”
I gave a slight shrug, like I didn’t give a rat’s ass about his threat, but my imagination was running amok when it came to how I’d end up being interrogated. How I might never see sunlight, or my dad, or drink a cup of coffeeagain.
Worrying a rock with the toe of my boot, I summoned my courage. “Because deep down inside, there’s a decent person who knows it’d be a prick thing to do. And if you ever cared for me, you wouldn’t.” Yeah, I played the guilt trip card because in all honesty, I didn’t have the energy for our usual long-winded argument that ended with him insisting he’d show me how much he’d changed. And I had to head off. Stopping for a drink had been a hugemistake.
“Bee, your coffee is ready,” Hans calledout.
Tristan’s expression tightened. “All I ask is for a second chance. I told you before, I want to marry you. I can change.” And there itwas.
I held back the laughter. “Look, awesome chatting with you like always, but my coffee isready.”
He blocked my path. “I’ll collect yours and mine, then let’s chat. Please?” The pleading in his voice almost touched me…almost, but then I remembered whom I was dealing with. The boyfriend who’d once insisted I stay home from a party while he’d attended it. Who’d reminded me I had to keep my figure in check because once I fell pregnant I’d turn into a balloon. Who once followed me and punched a male friend because I talked to him. Yeah, husband material right there. And damn him, I embraced mycurves.
“No thanks.” I shoved him aside, but he stepped in my wayagain.
