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“Good. If we stay a day ahead, there’s no way they can catch us.”
Anaria’s white hair streamed in the wind, a beacon to anyone following us and I caught up to them. “Cover yourself up.” I snapped. She would not get us all killed, I would not allow it. “They can see that from miles away.”
She wrapped the fabric around her head. Slowly, awkwardly, and I wondered if she’d told the truth about not being able to ride. But like everything else, that was likely false. Torin had placed her with one of the Descendant families, a wealthy estate, I’d heard, just on the other side of the wall.
She would have been raised in the lap of luxury.
A spoiled brat with no regard for anyone but herself.
Solok had slaughtered them all, as he was wont to do, but she would have been educated by private tutors, spent summers in the country with her rich friends, which accounted for her careless decisions that had cost so many their lives.
“I spotted Tristan and Raz. About a mile ahead.”
I couldn’t see them yet, but Zor’s eyesight was better than even mine. If he said they were ahead, they were.
Anaria looked miserable and a sick sort of glee thundered through me.
I wanted this trip to break her. I wanted her on her fucking knees before this was done, and when I turned her over to the king, collected my money and was free of my debts, I’d make sure she paid for what she’d done to Julian and the others.
I’d ruin her fucking life, just like she’d ruined mine.
In an hour we caught up to Tristan and Raz, and while Raz wouldn’t look at her at all, Tristan’s cold gaze raked her from head to toe, his cruel smile promising vengeance for taking Julian from us. Good. We were all in agreement when it came to Anaria. Get her to Blackcastle alive, collect our money, and good fucking luck to her.
Though now that the idea of vengeance had occurred to me, I couldn’t let it go.
Yes, I would ruin her, once we reached Blackcastle. She’d be out of her element and on my territory—though I hadn’t seen it in nearly two decades—off kilter and ripe for spoiling. She didn’t have anything, not right now. No one in her life I could kill, no riches for me to steal.
But given time, there’d be something she grew to love.
Her freedom, a lover…something to lose.
When I figured out what that was, when I found her weakness, I’d take it from her, like she’d taken Julian from me.
My cock throbbed at the idea of punishing Anaria.
Yes, I liked the thought of that very much.
We stopped twice to let the horses drink from the meager streams remaining in the desolation, and when we remounted, she gave Zor her hand and didn’t fumble about clumsily when he pulled her up.
To everyone else, Zorander’s smooth mask was completely unreadable, but he couldn’t hide the loathing on his face when she settled herself in front of him.
After we reached the flatlands, I’d put him out of his misery, but for now, we had to get past the Northern Gate and to our destination for the night.
“We’ll have to ride hard to reach the Caverns.” Zor nodded behind us. I twisted in my saddle to see the plume of heavy dust rising from the dead forest.
“The rocky terrain will slow them down. We have another hour to the flatlands, then we’ll put some distance between us.”
24
ANARIA
The horses picked their way down the steep hill and beyond the devastated forest, the brown, flat plain stretched out forever. Zor’s arm was loose around my waist, and I held myself out away from him as far as I could manage, sensing his disgust.
I slid my hand into the pocket of the dress, rechecked the note to make sure it was safe.
We had to stop sometime. We couldn’t keep riding like this forever, and when we did, I’d find a reason to sneak off and read whatever secrets Torin wanted me to know. Part of me was giddy with anticipation, the other part of me was shaking with fear.
The note contains nothing good, I kept telling myself.
