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Odette
Using her foot, Odette nudged the remains of the two corpses that laid outside the cabin. She jerked back as bugs skittered about under the leaves and rot. There wasn’t much stench since the bodies were burned so thoroughly that only charred skeletons remained. Odette shivered as she imagined them crawling from the cabin whilst burning alive to escape the flames.
Or more likely since they were laying side by side, someone had drug them out of the cabin and set them ablaze. One skeleton looked as if they were still clawing at the dirt. She leaned a little closer. The other corpse clutched a stone. She squinted at the odd carving on the blackened rock-face. It appeared to be a seed with some sort of plant sprouting out of it. How odd.
The thought of who might have done this to the poor people had her looking to the woods, examining its shrouded depths, as if the culprit lingered nearby, waiting to attack any stray intruders. She shook herself and went to join Rothbart, who had entered the cabin to search for… anything.
The cottage was cramped with a tiny sitting area next to a simple stone fireplace. A bed filled with charred coverings sat in the far corner. Whoever had burned the bodies had lit the cabin ablaze as well. Rothbart stood, his arms braced against the rickety blackened table, head bent low. Only one of the four chairs remained standing, but appeared so unsturdy, it was ready to collapse the instant anyone dared use it.
A small lantern hung in the corner next to the fireplace, which surprised Odette that it was still intact until she realized it was more likely that Rothbart had magicked it into being.
She stood in the doorway. “The bodies are pretty decayed. This must have occurred months ago.” Maybe even before Odette and the others had taken their assignments to kill Rothbart’s family.
“The people I spoke with in the town had no idea…” Rothbart mumbled.
Odette had some knowledge of where they were. As a swan, she’d flown out this general direction scouting, though not quite this far. The low mountainous range that rose behind them told her they were probably just over a day's flight from the lake. “Their home is away from any village. No doubt they could go months without interacting with anyone.”
His fingers curled against the table, digging into the charred wood. A quiet intensity issued off of him telling Odette to proceed with caution.
“There is a good chance that this wasn’t an accident,” she added.
“You mean that someone killed Helga and her husband on purpose,” he said in a soft voice. His head remained bowed, and he refused to look at her. “To hide information about Zoya?”
“There’s no way to know for sure.”
“You’re right. There’s no way,” he echoed in such a brittle voice that Odette’s mouth went dry. His head rose, his face finally showing the storm of emotions that threatened to release. “There’s no way of knowing anything.”
He straightened and with a flick of his wrist, the table he’d been leaning on rammed into the wall and splintered. The remaining chair followed, shattering. He gripped the table’s leg and swung it at the wall, using brute strength to beat it into nothing.
Odette glared at him. What good did any of this do? She stalked inside.
With an angry roar, he hurled the last remains of the poor table across the room. “Every. Time. Every time I think I’m close. That I have something. It's taken from me.” The power radiated up from him, blasting out of him, shaking Odette to her core, making her worry whether, in his current state, if he could control it.
As if in response to her thought, the cabin’s walls groaned and trembled. Soot and dirt fell from the thatched ceiling.
Shit. She rushed up to Rothbart.
And slapped him.
He turned on her with a snarl, grabbing a handful of her hair in his fist. The threat, mixed with pain in his eyes, both frightened and heated her at the same time. She squared her shoulders and met his raging gaze with her own.
“You listen to me. We will figure this out. We will find out who is after your sister and why.” She stood her ground against the black fire in his eyes. “And then together, wewillmake them pay.”
His breaths came heavy, washing over her, his chest heaving. The walls of the cabin calmed and his power that seared through her bones grew less.
But the expression on Rothbart’s face was anything but calm. The grip on her hair was tight and ungiving. He pulled her closer.
And kissed her.
His lips were hard and demanding. Demanding she fall with him into the raging heat of their shared hatred and pain and desire. She shoved into him, her lips moving against his. She bit his lip, urging him to open to her. A low rumbling erupted from him and triumph coursed through her when he opened and she dragged her tongue over his.
His grip on her hair tightened. He forced her back to stare into her face. Fury darkened his gaze—the hatred, the heat, the need. She wanted him to hate her. She wanted him to hate her so badly, the only thing he could do was take her. A wildness filled his expression, and she knew the line had become blurred. Hate and heat. Desire and loathing. She understood what that was like; she’d been experiencing the same thing for months. The same hate and need for him, her captor, and she no longer cared which was which or in the end, what they’d end up being to each other.
Tonight, he would be hers.
His other hand moved along her spine, and her dress loosened. She thrust her hand under his cloak, beneath his tunic, dragging her nails down his torso, feeling every goddamned sculpted part of him. She gripped the edge of his trousers.
“Odette.” The desire in his voice caused a shiver to crawl over her skin. A warning. An invitation. A searing burning gathered in her core, dipping downward to become a harsh pulsing between her legs.
