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“Oh, is it?”
God, I hate sorceresses.
She rides ahead. The wagon jolts into motion once more. The knights flank me, though Fallan keeps his distance.
Fuck. Now both of my hands are wounded. At least shifters heal quickly. The burn has already begun to fade into shiny pink skin. My other hand remains more of a mess, the bloody wound still not closed.
Clenching my jaw from the pain, I pull the linen shirt over my head, then huddle beneath the woolen horse blanket. At least I won’t freeze to death.
I’m not going down without a fight.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Ilurk in the darkness of my cage. Resting. Healing. Waiting for the right opportunity.
We stop to camp on the edge of the Emperor’s Road. With the moon still high above, there’s not even a hint of dawn.
The knights don’t remove much of their armor, taking off only their helmets and breastplates. None of them bother starting a fire. They spread their sleeping rolls around the wagon to guard me. One man takes the night watch while the others lie down.
They keep glancing into the shadows of the Thornwood. They seem more afraid of what’s out there than they are of me.
What might be hunting us, even now?
Nothing in the Thornwood ever scared me before. But I’ve always been a predator, never the prey.
Zin leans against a tree, staring at the moon, before she shakes her head. “Where are you?” she whispers.
Who? Rook? I don’t bother asking her, since I don’t believe she will tell me the truth.
Zin is the last one to sleep. She curls under a bearskin pelt, which is considerably more luxurious than my horse blanket.
I struggle to stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. I huddle under the blanket inside a pocket of warmth. The weariness in my bones drags me down to the bottom of the cage. I rest my cheek against the metal floor.
My eyes close, just for a moment.
“Pyrah.”
It’s impossible to mistake that gravelly voice for anyone else. And no one else here ever asked my name.
I open my eyes.
Rook stands outside my cage, his horned head silhouetted against the moon. His eyes simmer red as he looks down at me. I kneel before him. When he reaches through the bars, I lean against the cage, desperate for his touch. His calloused fingers slide behind the nape of my neck.
“There you are,” he says.
Desire uncurls inside me. My nipples tighten and I can’t help rubbing them on the cold iron. When he catches me doing it, he groans. The sound travels straight between my legs. Was I ever this wet before?
“Free me,” I beg.
“Pyrah, this is a dream.”
Kneeling, I peer at him through my hair. “I’m dreaming?”
“It’s how an incubus hunts for prey.” His jaw clenches. “I can enter your mind and seduce you in your sleep.”
“Don’t leave me like this. Save me.”
His voice turns velvety. “Get up.”
