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With the taste of her still on his lips, he knew he was fucked, because he wouldn’t stop until he made her his.
10
“Put up your hood,” Khalstorm snapped at Celeste as he forged a path through the dense forest just ahead of her.
She glared at his back. “It’s too heavy, and it blocks my peripheral.” He’d been surly as a thorn-ridden beast all morning. Back in the bunker there’d been a crazy moment where she thought he might kiss her. If he had, she wasn’t sure if she would have kissed him back. She feared she might have. He was a weakness to her. Always had been.
But, thank all that is holy, he hadn’t kissed her. Instead, his mood darkened, and he’d barely said two words to her since. She was grateful for it. Made it easier to remember he was her enemy—not the man who had once scoured the entire palace grounds for four hours because she’d mentioned necklaces she’d lost. It must have slipped off her neck while strolling through the gardens. Amazingly he’d found it, proudly presenting it to her later that evening. The necklace itself hadn’t been anything special, just a simple charm and chain, but the fact that he’d been so determined to find it for her had melted her heart.
Part of her hated these fond memories. Another part of her would cherish them forever.
Though the rain had stopped, they were forced to trudge through a soggy shallow march, Khalstorm leading them toward their next destination, wherever that was. Another prison?Unless I can escape.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see that happening. She was discovering how truly useless she was without her magic—evident by her first attempt to get away while Khalstorm slept. What a sad, sad failure that had been.
Her second attempt?Completedisaster.
Before now, she hadn’t known about the sinking peat bogs that riddled the forest, appearing no different than solid ground. And then there were the deadly moonshade flowers that emitted poison spores whenever disturbed.
She’d found the bogs purely by accident. Although Khalstorm had known they were around and how to avoid them, he’d intentionally kept her ignorant.Dick.
So when he wasn’t looking, she’d gathered enough courage to make a break for it, dashing into the thick brush . . .
And was immediately swallowed by icy wet darkness before even registering what happened.
Sucked under the ground. Blind. Suffocating.
Her struggles had been useless, mud and peat thickening around her like greasy fingers, sucking her farther down to her doom.This is how I die, her terror-struck mind had supplied.
But then suddenly she was snatched back into the light—Khalstorm plucked her from the bog like a weightless feather and set her on solid ground. Instead of asking if she was okay as she had sputtered and coughed, he’d growled, “Let that be a lesson to you.”
Still gasping, she’d shot to her feet in outrage. “You son of a—” Dizziness washed through her and she’d stumbled, nearly falling back into a deadly moonshade bush.
He’d reached out to steady her, irritation clear on his face. “Dammit, Celeste, are youtryingto get yourself killed?”
Flinging mud off her arms, she hissed, “I’m trying to get away from you, you prick.”
He bared his teeth. “That’s no’ going to happen. And unless you wish to die a horrific death, I suggest you stick close, witch.” With that, he’d led her to a stream and allowed her to rinse her skin and clothes, his arms crossed the whole time as he grumbled disgruntled curses under his breath.
Now utterly miserable, covered by a chilly wet cloak twice its previous weight, she made no more attempts to escape . . . for the present.
Khalstorm seemed to know all the secrets of this forest.
If she hadn’t been locked up for the last however many years, she might have learned a thing or two as well. Although, if she’d ever encountered a sinking bog before, she could have just sifted to safer ground using her magic. If she’d accidentally disturbed a moonshade bush, she would have done the same, easily healing any damage she might have taken.
She’d never needed to learn things like survival or physical defense before. That would be like a dragon learning to breathe fire by rubbing two sticks together.
She was now dependent on Khalstorm to keep her safe. And that irked in the extreme. Especially considering his plans for her. If the forest was a perpetual danger, Khalstorm was a bomb with a lit fuse ready to blow up in her face at any moment.
Once they reached their destination, it was game over, unless she could persuade him to show her mercy, that his anger towards her was misplaced.
But would he listen?
Perhaps a different tactic was needed. Khalstorm had always been reasonable. At least the old Khalstorm had been. If he was receptive, maybe shecouldconvince him of her innocence. It was worth a try.
Just as she was about to open her mouth, he barked for the second time, “Put on the damn hood. I sense . . . something . . . nearby, and everything about you screams witch. I doona know who, or what, we may encounter in these woods.”
She shuddered and glanced around, imagining sinister eyes on her. If they came across another dragon, would he attack just because of what she was? Or had Rathmort found them? If so, he and the rest of the coven could appear at any moment. She suddenly realized how vulnerable they both were. Khalstorm was physically strong, sure, but without access to the powerful dragon residing within him, even a baby witch could take him down. “Remove these cuffs and I can remove that spell on you.”
