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Breaking them, however, doesn’t mean I’m not terrified of what the consequences might be. With every step our horse takes, the trees seem to close in around us, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, ready to snatch me from the saddle and pull me into the abyss.
I hold the soldier tight, using the guise of a lady needing assistance, and try not to look at the darkness reaching for us. I struggle to convince myself that the dark shapes I see within the shadows are crafted from my imagination, not the beasts rumored to be more vile than a Blood Witch. If the stories are true, there are things in these woods that would make the goddesses shudder and the moon go into hiding.
Our horse leaps over a small stream and my magic stirs again, a pinprick sensation climbing my spine. I bury my face in the soldier’s shoulder, close my eyes, and wait for the warning to pass.I’m fine. Everything is fine.
“They won’t harm us.” The soldier squeezes my arm reassuringly.
I nod once, knowing he can feel the shift of my weight. Most people fear the Forbidden Forest because of the lore. Each region of Arcane has its warnings, even though only two districts bear the brunt of the woods. I’m sure the soldier assumes I’ve mistaken glow bugs for eyes or that I’m worried about triggering a memory trap. East Arcane’s warning is that the Forest will trap you in your happiest moment, forever keeping you from fully re-living it again. I doubt he realizes darkness follows us. The shape is slightly shorter than the horse but broader, like a bear or massive wolf.
And there’s more than one beast.
A flash of white glints from one of the shadows, and my magic stirs again. Heat gathers under my skin as it reacts to the threat. I clench my fists and try to push the sensation away. If I let it take over…
The soldier pushes my fingers apart to lace our hands together. His thumb rubs over the pad of my palm, and somehow, his reassurance calms me. My senses settle, but I’m still aware of the lingering threat. Even when the shadows fall back and disappear, I don’t let myself find comfort in the stillness.
I can’t judge the distance we ride. Our path is unmarked, and the trees beside us are large, with branches so thick that what's left of the night’s light struggles to seep through.
Our horse’s stride eventually changes from a steady gallop to a slow trot. I peek over the soldier’s shoulder to see where we are and notice a soft glow ahead. This must be where that Aisha woman is. I sit upright in hopes of scanning our surroundings for danger and shiver.
“What happened to your cloak?” the soldier asks, noticing for the first time that I’m in nothing but my corset and skirt.
“I left it.” It’s not like I had a lot of time to fetch it. I doubt he wouldhave waited for me if I had, and losing track of this man was not an option.
He stops the horse a few dozen feet outside the encampment’s archway and slides out of the saddle. I gather the layers of my skirt and shift to do the same when his hand settles on my leg. I stare at it, my stomach in my throat, my heart beating far too fast.
He’s touching me. Perilously high up my thigh. And I’m…
Wanting more.What the hell?
“Don’t get off.” He moves his fingers from my thigh and in one quick motion, he pulls his jacket from around his broad shoulders and holds it out to me.
I blink, shocked at how seamless the transition was, and try to figure out why his touch on my bare leg made my stomach jump. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. I run hot and rather like it when the temperature drops.”
I don’t immediately take the offer. I’m already in enough debt to this man, and I’ve learned that the people of Arcane don’t do anything out of the kindness of their hearts. He has not stated what, but this man wants something. Given that we’re no longer at the Red Keep, I doubt his intentions are as innocent as a drink and conversation.
The soldier chuckles and mutters, “stubborn ass woman,” under his breath. I’d take offense if he didn’t reach up and drape the fabric over my shoulders, shocking me again with the fluidity of his movements.
Perhaps I was wrong earlier about this man’s height being average. I didn’t pay attention in the tavern, but given that he can effortlessly fasten the clasp of his coat around me with both feet on the ground, it might be worth looking at this soldier again through new eyes.
I reluctantly slip my arms through the sleeves. “You didn’t have to do that. I was fine.”
“I don’thaveto do damn near anything, little bird.” He grabs the reins and steps ahead of the horse, leading us to the encampment’s entry. “It bothered me that you were cold.”
“I won’t offer my thanks. I refuse to be in debt for something I didn’t ask for.”
He stops walking and looks over his shoulder at me, the white fabric of his tunic bunching from the motion. Those blue eyes sink deep into mysoul as if they can see every crack I’ve mended and every wall I’ve built. He looks at me like he wants nothing more than to knock them down, to see what’s on the other side.
I shift off the horse’s bare back and into the saddle, allowing myself to be in its center rather than on the edge. I moved, not for comfort, but because the intensity of his gaze makes me want to be closer. Even only by a few inches.
“Know this now, little bird,” he says, his voice rough and low. “I would give you the shirt off my back and ask nothing in return.”
“Why?”
“Perhaps one day you’ll understand, but for now, you must accept it’s who I am.” The soldier turns away without offering any further explanation.
I don’t push the matter. I don’t necessarily believe him, but I accept the answer for now.
