"We may not have to cut off my hand," I snap. "You promised! No more dismemberments. I can't believe I actually have to say that."

"Mayhap you can learn a spell to show them."

"Won't they take your word?"

"Mayhap the slave traders will be there," he growls.

"Maybe we should take your betrothed with us to see her brother," I retort. Oh, snap. No idea where that smart-assery came from, but it kind of felt good.

I'm almost proud of myself, until he takes my throat loosely and presses my head back to his shoulder, whispering in a lethal tone, "Careful, witch. Do not tread on thin mud."

What the hell does that even mean? I shiver at the brush of his warm breath against my ear. He sounds so dark and commanding - it's the perfect voice for a sexy vampire creeping into your bedroom at midnight wanting to make hot, passionate, kinky love to you. I don't know him well enough to understand the difference between insubordination and wit. He appears approachable to an extent, especially with the way his master-at-arms talks to him.

Then again, I don't have the years of battlefield camaraderie with him either.

He releases me. I can't muster a response because my head and stomach are both filled with fire and the idea I'd really love for his mass-murdering hands to be roaming my body about now.

We ride in silence towards the forest for a short time and my hormones settle. I can't think of a worse ending to my life than to be stranded at the edge of the world under the whip of a slave trader in a place that doesn't really exist.

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And Jason goes on to be happy with his perfect little wife. Like I never mattered or worse- never existed. I bet she's like Disney Princess. Am I doomed to finding men who interest me only to lose them to beautiful women? The idea stings so bad, tears blur my eyes. My heart hurts more than it did before and the fantastic man pressed to my back isn't cheering me up.

"What color are the skies in your world?" he asks some time later.

Skies? I look up. The fog blocks everything. "Blue. Probably the same here, right?"

"No Shadow Knight has seen the sky in a thousand years."

"How awful. Do you want to?"

"I shall. 'Twill be the sign I have defeated the curse. I will stand on the bridge leading to my hold and look out over my kingdom beneath the blue sky."

His earnest, fierce response touches me on a level I'm not expecting. That the man behind the death and destruction of this world wants something so simple as to see the sky makes me sad for him. I don't know how that can be, given the lengths he's willing to take in order to win his war.




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