Theodora bristled, her chin rising high. “I never make a mistake.”
Fawn heard it again, the waver of uncertainty, the hint of fear. And that unsettled her far more than her mother’s usual arrogance ever could.
“What worries you, Mum?” Fawn pressed, her tone softer but no less insistent. “And don’t tell me you don’t worry. I’ve seen it all my life, the way you and Da fretted over us, over what might find us.”
Theodora’s mouth opened as if to deny it, but Fawn leaned closer, her green eyes narrowing, searching. Then the truth struck her like a cold blade. Her own eyes widened.
“Dark forces,” she whispered. “The same shadows that always had you and Da looking over your shoulders… they’re here, aren’t they? In these woods?”
Theodora’s silence was answer enough. Her shoulders stiffened, her face paled even in the dim light, and for the first time, Fawn saw fear eclipse her mother’s pride.
Theodora’s eyes darted toward the shadows, then back to Fawn. Her voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper. “If you ever want your marriage, the love you and your husband share, to survive, then…”
She straightened suddenly, her tone rising, ringing strong through the trees. “Embrace who you truly are, my daughter—a powerful witch.”
Fawn blinked, startled by the sudden change in her mother’s tone. Why shift so abruptly, so boldly? Then she understood.
Her stomach dropped.
Slowly, she turned.
Rhodes stood a short distance behind her, dawn breaking fully at his back, the pale light crowning his dark figure. His arms were stiff at his sides, his face cut in granite lines, and the anger burning in his eyes left no doubt—he had heard.
CHAPTER 21
“Witch?” The word was a growl, torn from Rhodes’s throat. His boots crunched over the thin crust of snow layered on top as he strode forward, each step sharp with fury. “Did I hear true, Fawn? My wife—” his hand slashed through the air toward Theodora “—a witch’s daughter?”
Fawn’s heart hammered. She stepped quickly between him and her mother, her arms instinctively lifting as if to shield Theodora from his wrath.
“Rhodes, wait?—”
“I’ll have the truth,” he cut in, his dark gaze fixed on her, not her mother. “From you. NOW!”
Theodora’s chin lifted, her voice iron-clad. “Do not bark at my daughter like she’s one of your men, Lord Rhodes. If you’ve any questions, put them to me.”
His jaw clenched, fury twisting through him, though beneath it a cold unease curled in his gut. “Then speak. What trickery have you brought into my hall? Into my bed?”
Fawn’s fingers clutched the sleeve of his tunic, her voice fierce though her chest tightened with fear. “No trickery wasused here. No spellcasting or binding. I am your wife, by your words alone.”
For a heartbeat, silence fell, broken only by the sighing of the forest and the caw of a lone raven. But the fire in his eyes promised this confrontation had only begun.
Rhodes’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his voice rough with accusation. “Was it you, then? Did you send your dark work against my sheep, against my clan? Is that how witches strike—silent and cruel?”
Theodora stood her ground, her eyes sparking. “I had no hand in your slaughtered flock. Do not put your enemies at my feet.”
His gaze swung to Fawn, sharp and unyielding. “And you, how much of this did you know? Did you know your mother was the shadow who granted my wish that night? Did you know I carry her dark bargain in my very blood?”
His accusing tone landed like a blow, robbing Fawn of words and tightening her chest.
“She knew nothing,” Theodora cut in, her voice potent.
Rhodes’s jaw worked as if he ground down the very truth he did not wish to face. He recalled last night, his words slipping past his guard, his heart refusing to keep them locked away. He had told her he loved her. He had meant it, fiercely, wholly. And yet here he stood, staring at her as though she might be a stranger. Was his anger born of betrayal, or of the fear that he might lose her to secrets she had kept?
Rhodes’s eyes did not leave Fawn. “How can I trust you,” he demanded roughly, “when witchcraft runs through your very blood? When your kin deal in witchcraft?”
Fawn’s throat ached from the words stuck there. How could things change so suddenly from last night when she lay in bed with his arms wrapped around her, his voice rough not onlywith desire but with words of love as if he didn’t quite believe it himself, yet he could not deny it.
Bloody hell, I love you, wife.
