Page 12 of Ember and Eclipse
The Wolf of Romul had to be something… other. Otherwise, how had he survived the poison, escaped the cage, or got to the Mark only hours after she did? The biggest mystery of all was how did he find her in the swamp after all this time? And she was certain now that it washimwho had tracked her, and not the other hunters who’d been with him.
“Not human, though,” she said, expecting an answer.
A grunt was her only response.
Her stomach lurched as the horse went over a particularly rough spot. “What are you then?”
“A rather rude question to ask, don’t you think?”
“And where are we? How long have I been out?” Remembering that he hit her, she raised her hand to inspect the lump that had formed beneath her hair.
“I enjoyed it more when you weren’t speaking. Shall I gag you?”
“I should have killed you,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You really should have. Mercy is always a weakness.”
She closed her mouth, biting down on her back teeth hard enough to send pain through her already sore jaw. His arms enclosed either side of her waist, his forearms resting against her thighs. Attempting to lean away from him made her entire neck and back tighten and ache in protest.
She stiffly settled into him again. He was warm, so warm his heat radiated into her. Daylight was decreasing rapidly, and she had to admit that having him at her back, his thighs on either side of hers, helped. They were away from the swamp and marshes that seemed to hold a heat that didn’t extend to the mortal land bordering it, especially this time of year. The coming rain would quickly turn into sleet and snow. The surrounding landscape even seemed cold, gray, and lifeless compared to the swamp’s rich verdancy.
Pushing down everything but logic, she took stock of the situation. She could attempt to fight him while on horseback—it would surely take him by surprise enough. In her weakened and sore state, though, she could hardly fight him. She’d have to wait for a better opening, but with every heartbeat that passed, she was taken further away from Witch Country and her possible salvation.
After a long time of not speaking, she finally asked him, “When will we stop?”
“We need to cover as much ground as we can. You poisoning me and running off to the Mark set us back a few days.”
“Set us back from you abducting me and returning me to the very place I ran from? What a shame.”
His hands tightened on the reins, but he said nothing else.
The bare landscape yielded little entertainment. It was as bleak as her future, and she closed her eyes against the vision. Rel didn’t realize she’d slumped against him, half asleep, until he dismounted with no warning. Forced to grab the poor beast’s mane to keep herself upright, she jolted awake.
“Let’s go,” he commanded while lifting his arms to help pull her down.
She ignored him despite half her body feeling as if the horse had trampled it and the other half being so numb that it wasn’t following her instructions. Leaning forward, she attempted to get her leg from the other side, but instead, all she managed was to slide off toward the hunter, her legs splitting uncomfortably wide.
But he caught her deftly and dragged her down anyway.
Sitting her on both feet, he let her go just as quickly with a noise of disgust.
She clung to Friend’s side as blood rushed back into her legs, and an overwhelming prickly feeling shot from hip to foot.
It wasn’t until the hunter led the horse away from the road that she forced herself to put her full weight on her feet. A groan escaped her as she shuffled forward after him.
She could barely walk—fighting or running away wasn’t an option that night. When she managed to stumble to the area he selected, he tossed her a rolled sleeping mat and a blanket without a word.
It was the first time she had really looked at him since he’d taken her. Where there should have been a bruise on his face from where she’d hit him with a frying pan not days before, there was nothing but clear and unmarred skin. He had healed extremely fast. What in the hellswashe? She opened her mouth to ask, but snapped it shut just as fast. He wouldn’t answer the question anyway.
As she prepared her makeshift bed near the fire he was quickly and efficiently building, she considered her predicament. She wouldn’t go quietly to Romul, but since she could barely move, she would have to wait to make her escape.
And if she was given another chance to kill him, she would show him no mercy this time.
It seemed like she had just found sleep when he tapped her leg with his boot. “Get up, we have to move.”
It was early and cool—only the first hints of daylight streaking through the sky.
“No sleep is its own special kind of torture,” Rel grumbled as she coaxed her body into standing up. Her muscles and bones protested the effort.
