Page 25 of Kingdom of Chains

When he returned from the creek, he saw that one of her tent flaps was snagged on something, which meant she was visible to anyone passing by. Releasing a heavy breath, he walked up the gentle slope to the tent, trying very hard not to peer inside—and failing. He was a few feet away when he glimpsed her seated on a roll-out bed in her nightdress. She had a blanket draped around her shoulders and long hair spilling down one shoulder. She was staring at the candle at the far end of the tent, a hairbrush idle in her hand. He should have quickly pulled the tent closed and walked away, but he did not do that.

The hem of her nightdress sat mid-calf. Her slender ankles were crossed, the soles of her feet visible. Both had angry red scars from toe to heel. His chest tightened as he wondered what form of hell this girl had walked through to end up betrothed to the devil himself.

As though sensing him there, her gaze snapped to the gap in the tent, and a soft gasp escaped her. She tugged her nightdress down over her legs and feet. He should have walked away. But then her face and shoulders relaxed, and she released the hem of her nightdress. It slid back up her legs, her scars on display once again. It felt like an invitation, a baring of her soul. Neither of them moved or spoke. Then his eyes fell to her feet again, her toes curling as his gaze landed. It was an honest moment, and he was utterly captivated by it.

Captivated byher.

It took all his effort to reach up, take hold of the canvas, and drag it closed. Darkness fell over his face once again. He was painfully aware of the change in his heart rate as he let go of the fabric and retreated to the campfire.

CHAPTER 8

Alarm might have been Isabel’s first reaction when she spotted Blackmane’s face through the gap in the tent, but it had been short-lived. Something in his expression had put her at ease. His dark eyes had looked a golden brown beneath the soft light spilling from the tent. There had been tenderness in that gaze as it moved over her scarred feet. He wanted to see, and she wanted to be seen. It had been so long since someone had wanted to see therealher.

And she had felt things too. Like blood roaring through her veins and heat gathering in her belly. She had felt both desire and desired, despite all the ugly parts being on display. It was entirely comfortable. And while she probably should have felt guilty, she felt only relief. For five years everyone around her had been saying she must feel this and she must feel that. She had started wondering if there was something wrong with her, something broken. But she was not broken.

Her heart sped up as she emerged from her tent the next morning. She looked over at the now-abandoned campfire where Blackmane and his comrades had slept.

‘Morning, my lady,’ Trahern said, approaching. ‘Your horse is ready.’

‘Thank you.’ She looked around for Blackmane, finding him by his horse, speaking with Commander Tatum. He glanced in her direction, and heat rose in her cheeks at the simple act of eye contact. He nodded once before turning his attention back to Tatum. The exchange was so casual, his demeanour so different from the night prior, that she worried she may have dreamt the whole thing up.

‘Good morning, beloved,’ Hodge called as he stepped outside his tent.

All the heat inside her dissipated at the sound of his voice. She looked in the earl’s direction. ‘Good morning, my lord.’

‘Sleep well?’

No, she had not. She had lain awake thinking about another man’s eyes on her. ‘Yes, thank you.’

Hodge walked over to her, taking hold of her face. Oh, how she wanted to push his hands away.

‘I feel dreadful about yesterday. You know I cannot bear it when we argue.’

The fact that he referred to such incidents as arguments spoke volumes. ‘All is well now.’ She gently guided his hands away from her face, making sure to smile as she did so.

‘We are about thirty-five miles from the camp, which means I will have you safely behind walls by mid-afternoon.’

He loved to put her behind walls.

A guard approached. ‘Your horse is ready, my lord.’

‘Very good,’ Hodge replied.

Their belongings were now being carried out of the tents and pegs torn from the ground. Hodge offered her his arm, and she reluctantly took it.

‘I think you will be most impressed with the camp when you see it,’ he said as he led her away.

It grated on her that he spoke about the camp as a point of pride rather than with disappointment that it had come to this.

‘Prepare for departure,’ Hodge shouted at the men who were already scrambling about doing just that. He walked her to her horse and turned to help her mount.

‘Thank you, my lord, but I need no assistance.’

‘Nonsense,’ he replied, taking hold of her waist.

She gently pushed his hands away. ‘I am quite capable of getting on a horse.’

He reached for her again. ‘I am standing right here.’

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