She stares at me. Her eyes pierce through my defenses.
“I think that Daniel was sad for doing it. But those with children were given their own little dwelling. He didn’t want to be shoved into a barracks with the other men, and he couldn’t stand the shame he felt because of me. After he’d thrown me out, he found someone else. I tried to ignore him. The first time we’d spoken in years was that day in Enduvida.”
My breath scorches my lungs.
“Firelocks. That spineless, self-indulgent wretch wouldn’t know the weight of a life if it was chained around his own worthless throat. He is not a man—he is a festering stain on the world, a leech masquerading as something worthy of breath.” More frozen emotions pump through me, too fast, too quickly, but I hold her tight andshe holds me right back.
I would pay for the overuse of emotions tonight.If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to move soon.
“If I had known this when I saw him outside your door, I would’ve killed him.”
Her jaw goes slack. She searches my face, watching me with unfeigned hope like I had spoken the moon into existence.
“Please, don’t pity me,” she says abruptly, expression shifting. “I like my life. I like who I am. I just… Arion wanting me to bear a child has reopened deep wounds.”
She looks away from me then, her expression tired but resolute. “I know you told me I wouldn’t have to be bound if I told you, but I… think it’s a good idea. It doesn’t bother me so much anymore.”
My jaw tightens, and I force myself to nod. “I’ll be careful.”
She nods back, but I see the way her hands tremble.
I move to grab the rope, then wrap it around the nearest tree. This time, I leave her sitting.
A crushing weight is pressing onto my limbs and a searing cold blankets my skin. My regret returns.
And then my right foot goes numb.
Fuck, it won’t be long before I can’t feel my hands. My vision blurs, black frost creeping into the edges of my sight.
Not now.
The world tilts, and my body refuses to obey. I need to lie down before I collapse.
Arlet turns just in time to see me sway. Her eyes widen in alarm. “Vann?”
I can’t answer. My throat is ice. My breath is ice.
My fingers twitch and my vision flickers, narrowing to a pinpoint of light through the trees.
Arlet says something else, alarmed.
“I… need… sleep,” I manage through clenched teeth, every word scraping like a blade against my throat.
Her lips part like she wants to argue, but I hear myself wish her a good night.
I need to take care of her, make sure she is secure against the trunk, but instead, I stumble toward the tent and barely manage to lower myself before my body refuses me entirely.
Chapter 24
ARLET’S CURSE
When I awake and find we are yet again far from our mark, I grow angry. This is not where my task should take me.
I am surrounded by mountains and a thinning forest. It is cold, and that chill is only remedied by the warm, sticky wolf blood that coats my hands and fingers.
Mylegs pound, one after the other. The cold bites into me, and the blood dries, but there is something more powerful than the discomfort—the need to run, and the hunger.
Each step in the right direction causes a little thrill to snake up my spine. But then something reaches my tongue on the wind.