Page 62 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

Sidling up to Merrick, she patted the ash mare she’d ridden here on, leaning on her for warmth—and, truth be told, support as she struggled to keep her legs straight.

She’d literally kill for a warm bath and food.

“You barely survived,” Merrick hissed under his breath as he inched closer. “You were caught by surprise by someone who could be your grandfather.”

He gestured toward the door where Craven’s company, a massive man who looked like he could carry the older one with a single hand, helped him out of the cabin.

Glaring at the side of his head, she hissed back, “Hello to you too. I’m doing fine, thank you. And I was fine then too. Even if Venko and Loche hadn’t come out, I had it handled. How do you know about it anyway? You weren’t supposed to sneak around the cabin.”

If Merrick could look at her, she was certain he’d offer her a death stare by now, but the Fae only gripped her cloak andpulled her so close his wild scent layered over her. “You need to learn how to fight. From now on, we train every day.”

“I don’t—”

Merrick’s magic snaked its oily tendrils over her skin, and she snapped her mouth shut.

When he slowly—very, very slowly—released her, she snarled, “I thought we decided you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

Flicking his hair, Merrick turned his back to her and jumped onto his horse. “You were supposed to follow mystupidorders.”

Groaning to herself, she mounted her own mare, but the sensation of being watched tickled her neck, and when she turned her head to the side, Loche was observing her and Merrick intently.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly averted them.

Had he heard their exchange?

It wasn’t exactly the warm welcome one’s company should provide.

Unease swirled in her gut the whole way back to town.

Even the hunger dragging its sharp nails inside her did nothing to squash it.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Bone-chilling sea breeze welcomed them back to the capital, and by the time the white castle came into view, Lessia could barely keep her eyes open, her body slumping over the horse’s neck as they rode between the dimly lit stone homes.

She guessed adrenaline and the fear for her life—or, perhaps, of discovery—had kept her energized enough not to pass out the past weeks. But as they rode into the small courtyard before the castle, she wasn’t sure how to get off her mare without tumbling to the ground.

Craven had already collapsed on top of his horse and had been tied down a few hours from the cabin. Now Lessia watched with blurry eyes as his guard lifted him off the horse and marched through the castle doors with the old man in his arms.

Venko, the only one who didn’t have anyone accompanying him, had to be helped by one of Loche’s masked men, his face impossibly pale against the black uniform and mask as the man helped him into the castle.

Wrapping her fingers around the saddle, she tried to talk herself into getting off the warm horse.

There would be food.

And clean clothes.

And warmth.

And once she’d eaten, she could visit with Amalise and Ardow.

Her muddled brain vaguely remembered Frayson mentioning something about having a few days’ rest after these weeks.

“Do you plan on stealing that mare and getting out of here?”

Turning her head toward Loche made stars dance before her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to regain her sight.

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