I saw this landscape as freedom once. Now it taunts me with what could have been.
I’m running out of time.
“I can help you,” I say.
“Quiet.” His voice is harsh.
His arm is tight around my waist. His hold is not gentle and protective like Callum’s. It is hard and unrelenting. It is the hold of a jailer. A monster. A king.
“I know what you want, and I am offering—”
“I offered you the world, and you threw it in my face. There’ll be no more discussion on the matter.”
“Are you truly so stubborn?”
“Are you?” he bites back.
The hint of frustration in his tone gives me hope. There must be something behind his hard demeanor.
“I know your enemy better than you do,” I implore. “Will you truly not listen to what I have to say? By sunrise, there will not be another chance.”
He doesn’t ask me to voice my offer, but he doesn’t shut me up, either.
“No one needs to die,” I say.
“Sebastian needs to die.”
“I have no love for Sebastian. I did not want to marry him. I left the Borderlands with Callum to escape him. And I like him even less now I know what he did to your mother.”
A growl builds low in his chest.
“Yes. He should die. But your men do not need to die,” I say. “You don’t need to die. And neither do I. Take me to Sebastian as planned. Hold back your men. Let me go with him. Give me a weapon. Something small. I can get close to him without his guard being raised. If you wish him dead, then I shall kill him myself. You will send some men to retrieve me when it is done, and you will bring me back to Callum.”
He lets out a throaty, bitter laugh. “Even if I believed you had it in you to kill him—which I don’t—why should I deprive myself of the pleasure of doing it myself?”
“Because lives will be lost if you choose to attack. The lives of your men.”
He swallows, and I wonder if he is considering it. But then his grip on the reins tightens. “I will not squander this opportunity. I will be killing Sebastian this night. That’s the end of the discussion. You’re lucky I do not execute you myself.”
“I love him,” I say, softly. “I cannot marry you, because I love Callum.”
The admission surprises me as it escapes my lips. It is as if it were trapped somewhere deep within my soul. And as it gains freedom, wisping away with a plume of my breath, some of the weight bearing down on my chest lifts.
It is true, I realize. I love him.
I may not know much about love. I may have guarded my heart and kept my emotions locked within me for many years now. But somehow Callum got inside me, and made me feel free. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.
I may never see him again. I may die tonight.
But I die knowing that truth, and knowing the taste of freedom it gave me.
In the distance, there are dots of light puncturing the shadows.
Sebastian’s men.
My heart sinks.
James pulls the reins abruptly, and the horse halts. I inhale sharply, wondering why we’ve stopped.
He whistles, then dismounts and strides over to someone who is on horseback. My eyebrows raise when I realize it is a female soldier. She hands something to him, a strap of some kind, and he walks back toward me.
“Off the horse,” he says.
Pulse racing, I slide down. My legs are shaky when my feet hit the earth.
The rest of his men linger on the grassy land behind, waiting for their king’s orders to ride onward.
James pulls a knife out of his belt, and I step away—my back hitting the horse’s body. The sharp blade glints in the moonlight with the same dangerous intent that glitters in his eyes.
His jaw is clenched, and every muscle in his body is taut as he steps toward me.
He looks angry. Furious. A monster of a man.
A king of Wolves.
My breathing quickens.
He crouches by my feet, pressing one knee into the muddy earth. He hoists up my skirt.
Cold terror seeps through my bones, freezing me in place even though my mind is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here—letting him do whatever he wants with me.
He slips a holster around my thigh and tightens it, before sliding in the knife. The cold weight of it presses against my skin. He releases me, letting the fabric of my skirt cover me once more.
His eyes snap up to mine. They’re the same shape as Callum’s but darker, and sterner.
“I do this for my brother, not for you. At least I can say I gave you a chance. My men will still attack. If by some means Sebastian gets away with you, if you kill him, I will allow you back into my kingdom.”
I swallow, then nod. A small knife is not much against an army. But it is better than nothing. And if I get the chance, I will gladly sink it into Sebastian’s heart.
“Thank you,” I say.
He inclines his head, then rises to his full height. “Back on the horse.”
He hoists me up, then mounts behind me.
We ride onward.
***
It is not long before we stop at the edge of the valley.
The moon bathes the land below in white light, washing the color from the grass, and turning the heather silver. Up here, we are concealed by tall trees that spill down the mountainside—enveloped by shadows and the scent of pine.
I spot torchlight in the valley below. Borderlands men await.
James sends one of his men down there to check Sebastian is among them, and to confirm they have the Heart of the Moon—fake or otherwise.
“How do you know they won’t just slaughter you when you ride down?” I say.
“Because I know Sebastian. And I have the daughter of their king.”
“I think you overestimate my value.”
“Let’s hope not.” His voice is curt—almost a warning—and signals the end of our conversation.
The rider comes back ten minutes later, and nods at James before re-joining the army.
Nerves twist in my stomach.
“What if he’s brought the real Heart of the Moon with him?” I ask.
I hear the menacing smile in James’s voice. “Then we shift, and it will turn out to be a very quick battle indeed.”
He looks over his shoulder at his men.
“I want ten of you to ride down with me for the exchange. The rest, wait on my signal.”
“What’s the signal?” calls a male from within the trees.
“Southern screams,” says James.
The soldiers laugh and jeer.
“Let’s get you back to your betrothed, shall we?” says James.
He digs his heels into the horse and my stomach drops.
We descend into the valley where Sebastian awaits.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Want is a strange thing.
If you feed it, it gets hungrier and it grows. You find yourself wanting more and more and more—your appetite never quite sated. If you starve it, it fades away. It shrivels, and dies, until it’s nothing at all.
When I was a young, I wanted things. I wanted to be lady of a grand house, or even a queen. I wanted a husband who loved me. I wanted to help my people.
After my mother died, I just wanted to endure.
Then, one day, I wanted nothing at all.
I lived like that for a long time. My life was passive, meandering, meaningless.