Page 104 of Given

Maybe the cold and my discomfort kept me from noticing the other powerful presence until we were nearly upon it.

The Thicket.

Suddenly, the forest was a towering barrier before us. Its darkness was so absolute I could barely make out the shapes of the trees. But I didn’t need to see them. I could feel them.

My horse could, too, because it reared without warning, nearly tossing me from its back.

Varick was beside me at once, his quick hands seizing my reins and pulling the beast’s head down. His warhorse was steady as a rock. He controlled it effortlessly, squeezing its flanks with his thighs as he wrestled with my mount. When he got it under control, he slid from his saddle and examined its legs. His low curse echoed in the night.

“Your horse has gone lame. You’ll have to ride with me.” He gripped my waist and settled me across his saddle.

“Will my horse be all right?” I asked, shivering atop the warhorse as he hobbled my mount.

He was silent until he swung into the saddle behind me, bringing the scent of leather and clean sweat. “A farmer will find it and drain it.”

“Kill it?” My heart squeezed. The poor beast had run for hours in the snow. And now it would die.

Varick wrapped an arm around my waist and urged the warhorse into a trot. “We are vampires, Given. The gods saw fit to make us thrive on blood.”

I wanted to look back at the horse, but I kept my gaze forward as we moved toward the Thicket. In a way, I envied the creature. It wouldn’t see its end coming. And it didn’t have to face the wall of trees.

“We won’t enter the forest,” Varick said, probably sensing my tension. “There’s a village at the border. I know a guide who will take you to Aberwas for a fee. He’s reliable, and he’s good with a sword.”

Questions spun through my head. What happened when I reached Aberwas? Where would I stay? How long would I stay, and would Laurent search for me? As my husband, he had every right to force me back to Lar Katerin. That was the law in all of Ter Isir. A runaway wife could never truly be safe anywhere.

But at the moment, my immediate concern was the Thicket. It crowded around us, the wall of trees blocking out the sky. We couldn’t reach Wesyfedd without skirting the treeline. As we neared it, goosebumps lifted on my skin. I thought I saw movement in my peripheral vision, but when I looked, there was nothing.

A high-pitched shriek split the air.

A scream lodged in my throat, and I grabbed Varick’s forearm so hard my fingers hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his voice low at my temple. “Just an animal.”

My heart pounded. The wind had died down, but snow still spun around us. The trees were still, the forest eerily quiet. The warhorse’s hooves crunched loudly over the snow.

And power flowed around us. It emanated in waves so thick I felt like I might glimpse them if I squinted. So I kept my eyes as wide as possible, and I didn’t look left or right. I stared straight ahead, my gaze on the rolling hills that bordered Wesyfedd. If I didn’t look, I wouldn’t see anything. Maybe I’d fall asleep, and when I woke we’d be in the village Varick spoke of. I’d put the journey and the Thicket behind me, and tomorrow I could worry about what came next.

A shout pierced the silence. A second later, a deep voice bellowed, “Stop in the name of the king!”

Laurent. There were no kings in Wesyfedd. The only king on this side of the Rift was my husband, and now he’d come to claw me back to his side. Or worse.

Varick squeezed my waist and kicked his horse into a gallop. We lurched forward, crashing over sticks and fallen leaves. Snow flew, and the sounds of pursuit rang out behind us.

Varick’s horse was fast, but it had run for hours already, and now it was weighted down by both of us. Without warning, Varick pulled the reins hard to the left and plunged us into the trees.

I gasped and gripped his arm more tightly. Branches tore at my clothes. Varick’s harsh breaths sounded in my ear. The trees whipped by as he urged the horse faster.

And everywhere, power swelled. I saw it now—a green fog that blanketed the ground. It parted in front of us, wisps trailing across the forest floor. My skin grew damp, and I felt the power clinging to me like spiderwebs. I wanted to wipe my face and shake it from my hair, but I didn’t dare let go of Varick. Somehow, I knew that if I fell in this place, I might never get back up.

“AMET.”

Laurent’s voice boomed. His power—a force altogether different from the fog—wrapped around me and yanked hard. I fell. Varick fell with me. Together, we crashed to the forest floor in a tangle of flailing limbs and screaming horse. My back struck the ground and then bowed.

And it was in that moment that I realized I couldn’t breathe. My mouth stretched wide, but I couldn’t suck in air. I’d stopped breathing, and some part of my brain registered that Laurent had commanded it.

My vision dimmed. My fingers curled into claws that dug into the dirt. Every cell within me strained for air, but it wouldn’t come. In some still, cool part of my mind, I realized I was dying.

Leaves crunched and a black mantle swirled in the corner of my eye.