Page 67 of A Dance With Fire
He sawed through strings, his hands dangerously close to her breasts.
“Turn,” he ordered.
She obeyed, turning around. He continued to cut at the top until all the beads were gone and she could move as silently as possible.
When he finished, she turned, and he pressed the knife into her hand.
It was like she was receiving his silent permission to fight, to prove herself to him somehow. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat. She had nothing to prove to him, but she was grateful anyway for the weapon. Hers had been stuck in the pocket of her borrowed pants, which she’d left behind at the camp.
Her palm closed around the hilt, but before she could thank him, Ryker was walking away.
She didn’t know what she should do, if she should go after him or go her own way? She contemplated it, chewing against her bottom lip but eventually decided it would be better to see what the plan was to get Orna out of there. So she followed after him as quietly as she could, ducking beneath branches, avoiding twigs.
Her feet hurt. She stepped over rocks, feeling the pain of the ground scrape against the soles of her feet. She gritted her teeth and bared with it, because nothing that was happening to her then could have been worse than what Orna was likely suffering right now.
They made it to the edge of camp, so close she could smell the meat burning over their campfires.
It was hard to believe that only moments before, she’d been dancing around their own fire, with Orna watching on, a dreamy look in her eyes. That they’d been together. That she’d feltcontentand now Orna was in there somewhere.
She crept up next to Ryker, staring intently at the humans wandering about. She felt a bloodlust rise up in her like never before and whispered to him, “What are we waiting for?”
He shot her a glare and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer but then whispered, “They’re taking care of the guards.”
She was itching to edge closer but forced herself to be patient. She knew this moment was precarious. They needed to be careful, because it could mean life or death.
She focused on her thoughts of finding Orna and getting her out of there alive when she felt a squeeze on her arm. Snapping her attention to Ryker, he gave her a slight nod. It was all the gesture she needed.
They started forward, closer to the camp.
With every step forward, a feeling of dread weighed heavily at the pit of her stomach. It hit her so suddenly like a sixth sense, an instinct she didn’t understand.
Not until they stepped closer to the entrance and the sight there stopped her cold.
Bile rose in the back of her throat. The Fae wine in her stomach churned and rose, but she swallowed it down and forced herself to stare.
An anguished cry threatened, but she bit down so hard on her tongue that she tasted blood.
Ryker’s touch steadied her, but she still couldn’t take her gaze away.
Iron spikes were hammered into the ground. Tall and rusted, dark red liquid slid down the poles that Shula immediately knew was blood. And on top of the pike? A severed head was impaled through it. Mouth opened in a scream with a missing tongue, she recognized the terrified lines of the face, the hair, the brown skin.
Des’ body had been brutally butchered, pieces of him scattered and skewered against iron like a warning or an expression of cruelty.
Once the horror and urge to vomit washed away, Shula’s vision went red. She was blinded by the rage and fire inside her. The images of Des’ kind face and what he’d become blurred together in her vision.
He hadn’t deserved this.Noneof the Fae deserved this cruel treatment. They didn’t deserve to be butchered, to have their bodies disrespected, their remains mounted like trophies.
Shula inhaled and tasted smoke, and sheknew.
Today, the humans would burn.
24
A Light in the Dark
Ryker unsheathed his sword from his waist and held it tightly in his grip. His heart was pumping wildly and his teeth grinding hard. He was barely hanging on by a thread, ready to throw himself into the camp and tear every human there limb from limb.
The sight of Des’ body hammered into iron took him back to memories of the past and of Mairin. He kept his gaze trained forward to the camp. They’d already stayed too long to stare at the body.
