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I glare at him. “Lies.”
He tugs a wool cloak from a saddlebag. “Here. Cold tonight.”
When he tosses it at me, I catch it and drape the rough fabric over my shoulders. I couldn’t care less about being naked, but the chilly wind on my skin is making me shiver. “You still haven’t told me your name.”
He rummages through the saddlebag. “Neither have you.”
“My name is Pyrah.”
He pauses a moment. “Can I trust you, Pyrah?”
My name feels strange in his gravelly voice.
I shiver. “To do what?”
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Not run away.”
“You could ask me not to gut you in your sleep.”
“That, too.” When he turns, he’s holding a rope. “Come here.”
“Aren’t I already bound?” I gesture at the chains circling my neck and digging into my thigh.
“Can’t travel far with the chains. Need to take them off.”
My heartbeat pounds in my rib cage as he strides nearer. He unwinds the aellurium chain from my neck. The metal slithers free from my skin, the enchantment yielding to him after refusing to obey me. Blunt black claws gleam on his fingers, wicked enough to make me shiver. Despite his demonic hands, he has a careful touch.
He glances at the chain around my thigh, then drops to his knees.
The cloak does little to cover my skin. Heat scalds me when his calloused fingers graze the inside of my thigh. I clench my fists at my hips. His hands move between my legs, unwinding the chain. His movements are mechanical. My fingers twitch with the impulse to grab the black horns that curve over his skull and pull him closer.
What would he do if I did? He’s ignoring my naked body with a blank face, as if I’m not a woman, as if I have no power over him.
Is he immune to the tension thickening the air between us?
The enchanted chain slides from my thigh and leaves red welts behind. He stands, wrapping it around his fist. “Hold out your hands.”
I obey. He knots the rope around my wrists.
What choice do I have? If I fight him again, he will trust me even less. I need to lull him into complacency before escaping. When he turns his back on me, I know he doesn’t believe I will flee. Either that, or he has supreme confidence in his ability to catch me.
“Can you ride?” he says.
“A little,” I reply, remembering a life I had long ago.
He holds me by the waist to boost me into the saddle. The feel of his hands lingers on my skin. Once again, his strength distracts me. I focus on Bolt instead, leaning over the mare.
“I won’t eat you,” I whisper.
Bolt mutters around her bit. Maybe I’m not the first monster she’s met.
The half-demon man takes her by the reins and follows a path carved from the cliff. It serpentines down to the lake. Night is falling fast, but he never stumbles. Our night vision must be equal.
Without looking back, he says, “You can call me Rook.”
He’s right. I haven’t heard of him.
But I know I’ll never forget him.
