Page 50 of Tethered In Blood

I blinked. “I… What?”

“That knight. He was lying.”

I let out an incredulous breath. “About what? His ability to hold a conversation?”

Oberon ignored the quip, his gaze fixed ahead. “Men like him will say whatever you want to hear to get you under them.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “What makes you think I wanted to be under him?”

The muscle below his eye twitched. “I noticed the way you looked at him, Dilthen Doe.” He gritted his teeth as if it pained him to say those words.

My steps wavered.

The way I looked at him? Like what? That I felt heard? Seen?

Fiery heat pooled in my chest. “Perhaps,” I clipped, “he would make better company than you.”

Oberon stopped.

His nostrils flared, and his eyes flickered silver, reminding me of how his arm had appeared in the forest as it expelled the black magic seeping through his veins. The way the air shimmered around him, and how he seemed—heaving and cradling his arm after the creature crumbled before us—weighed on my mind. Regret washed over me. He must have been exhausted and sore. Yet he followed me to ensure I stayed safe in a room full of arrogant men. I was too stubborn to consider anything beyond checking on the men who had spent an entire day celebrating at the tavern.

The innkeeper called out to him, but he didn’t slow his pace as he climbed the stairs. I walked over to the counter in his stead. “You have a letter,” she said. “It appears to be from the castle. The postman mentioned it was urgent.”

I forced a gentle smile. “Thank you,” I murmured, accepting the letter with steady hands despite the fatigue weighing on my limbs. With a practiced motion, I slid my dagger under the wax seal, slicing it open with a quick flick of my wrist. Another formality. Another task. Another demand.

The words blurred together until my eyes landed on “Vaelwick”. My breath hitched, and my fingers gripped the parchment tightly. Exhaustion melted away as I reread the message, scanning over the words as if they could change, as if they would rearrange themselves into something less impossible.

The Courts summoned us to Vaelwick.

A creeping pressure coiled around my ribs. My boots thudded against the floor as I marched down the hall. The letter crumpled in my grip.

Oberon stood in the center of the room, his eyes snapping to mine as I entered with my arms crossed. The moment he opened his mouth, I interrupted him. “We have orders.” I marched past him and slammed the letter onto the table, my voice harsher than I intended. “We’re going to Vaelwick.”

16

Eden

CANDLESMOKEFILLEDtheair, mingling with the cloying scent of perfume. It enveloped me in a dense, suffocating fog. My dress was too tight; the corset dug into my ribs, making each breath feel stolen rather than given.

I sat stiff-backed at the dining table, my hands folded neatly in my lap and my nails digging into my palms. Across from me, my father swirled his glass of amber liquid while he scrutinized me with sharp, assessing eyes. My mother’s fingers rested on my shoulder, a gentle weight that felt like a shackle.

Stay still. Stay quiet. Be what they require you to be.

“You’re lovely,” Marcus murmured, his voice silken and sweet, poison in honey. I tensed when he reached for my hand. His fingers ghosted over mine before curling around them. He held me as if I were something delicate or breakable—a thing to be cherished.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“Like something crafted,” he continued, his grip tightening. “Sculpted. Almost too perfect to be real.”

My stomach twisted. Gods, I wanted to pull away, but I knew better. I understood what would happen if I embarrassed them, so I remained still and quiet.

Somewhere behind me, the faint crack of a whip rang out in the silence, and I flinched.

Marcus chuckled, and his voice curled around me like a noose. “Nothing to say? No need to be shy, Darling. A girl like you,” the whip cracked again. My throat tightened as I dug my nails deeper into my palm. “—was made to be adored.”

My breath hitched, and my pulse hammered into my skull.

Liar.

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