“I’m sorry.” None of this was her fault. She wasn’t a mad vigilante, she was an innocent woman trying to avenge her sister. “When I get angry, it’s hard for me to—”
A white porcelain sign up ahead stole my attention.
Three miles to Buraos? We weren’t going to Buraos. We were going to Oakton.
My hand smacked against the cold pane of glass as I leaned forward to read the names again. “This isn’t the right road.”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Keelynn said, voice steady and chin high. “We’re traveling to Buraos.”
I distinctly remembered telling Padraig to go to Oakton. “We cannot stay in Buraos.”
“Wewillstay in Bruaos.”
Shit.
I needed a feckin’ drink. I jerked open the lid to my flask, shifted something a helluva lot stronger than water, and drank until my eyes watered and stomach lurched. The last time I had been to Buraos, I’d ended up at the wrong end of a hangman’s noose along with five other Danú. My neck hadn’t snapped. I’d dangled there, slowly suffocating, watching the humans in the crowd laugh and jeer until death’s unforgiving grip dragged me into darkness.
Never again.
My fingers twitched, and I could feel my magic growing stronger, forcing its way to the surface. “We’re not staying in Buraos.”
Keelynn smirked. “You. Don’t. Have. A. Choice.”
No choice?
No feckin’ choice?
I may not have control over what I looked like. I may not have control over who I slept with. But as long as I remained free of iron chains, I had control over where I went.
And if this hateful woman thought I was going to set foot in a town bursting with mercenaries and soldiers, then she was about to beverydisappointed.
I focused on the noise of the wheels bumping over the muddy terrain. All it took was a surge of magic and a flick of my wrist to send the left front wheel to my stables back home.
The lurching carriage slammed me into the wall.
Sent Keelynn flying onto my lap.
And set my body alight with inexplicable heat.
Criers and fanatics sometimes bathed in witch hazel to ward off the effects of a witch’s magic. It didn’t work, but if one of them touched you, it’d burn like hell. If Keelynn had bathed in witch hazel, I would’ve smelled it.
The woman only smelled of lavender and loathing.
The surge of desire when I felt her supple body squirmed against me was nothing compared to the tugging cord—
No. Not a cord.
A wrenching iron chain squeezing my chest until I couldn’t breathe.
“Let go!” she squealed.
And she was gone. Pushing back to the bench and giving me a look so full of heated confusion, I was certain it mirrored my own.
How could I wantherof all people? A human who despised everything about me. A woman so full of fear and hate that it oozed from her pores. It was my curse. It must be. There was no other explanation.
“You’rethe one who climbed on top ofme.”
With her cloak askew, I could see her chest rising and falling.