His…what?
The world seemed to tilt under my feet. Realization crashed over me in tumultuous waves as I looked back at Baron, betrayed. He stood still as a statue, shoulders raised slightly, palms half-lifted, helpless and apologetic. He didn’t deny it.
“You…” I choked out. “You’rehis?”
Something inside me broke. The warmth of our kiss, all that hope, relief and closeness…it all instantly curdled into something vile. Disgust burned through my chest, bleeding hot into my stomach, and the sheriff saw it.
His lip curled into a slow, triumphant sneer. “Lover boy didn’t tell you that little piece of information, did he?” He chuckled darkly. “Well played, Baron. Well played.”
Chills seized my body. This had all been a game to them, and I had lost. The sheriff leaned in, his breath rancid against my ear.
“How does it feel?” he whispered. “Knowing you have no one in the world who cares for you? He would never love someone like you. You’re nothing to him.Nothing at all.”
His words carved straight through me. My lungs locked. My vision blurred.
I was a fool. I’d been taken in and used. Against all my initial determination to never trust Baron, I’d been slowly reeled in. I’d let my defenses down, and I’d been duped for it. That was what I got for trusting someone. I had never felt so completely vulnerable in my entire life. I had handed Baron every secret bit of my heart, piece by piece, over the past months, and he had let me.
Baron looked stricken, devastated, pleading. “Laurel—” His voice cracked. “That isn’t what happened. I swear it. I swear!”
“Shut up!” the sheriff bellowed. “Shut up right now, boy, or you’ll be sorry!”
Baron instantly went silent. He dropped his gaze, shoulders tight, flinching like someone who had learned the cost of disobedience the hard way. All the vague hints he’d given me about his father suddenly slid together into a horrifying, perfect picture.
The sheriff laughed—an ugly, victorious sound. “Come on, brat.”
With that, he dragged me bodily toward the cave entrance, my scalp screaming with every step, as he hauled me toward the blacksmith to sever the chain between Baron and me.
“Wait!” Baron burst out again, desperation cracking through his restraint.
But the sheriff yanked me harder, cutting him off, and all I could think was:
I’m a fool.
I’m a fool.
I’m a fool.
The pain of it was so sharp I almost didn’t feel the cold.
CHAPTER 27
We were quickly separated. The sheriff had six guards surrounding me as the blacksmith in camp removed the chain and collar. I refused to look at Baron as our restraints were finally detached. I fixed my gaze on anything that wasn’t him. The clang of metal falling to the ground should have sounded like freedom at long last, but it felt like another slap in the face reminding me that Baron hadn’t been honest.
The second the collar loosened, I lunged for the exit, but the guards closed in before I even got my second step in. I hadn’t expected the attempt to work but I still relished the satisfying crack of my boot connecting with one guard’s shin before they forced me down. It was nothing like the first time I’d kicked Baron. He hadn’t even blinked then. This man folded instantly.
As the guards dragged me away, I heard the sheriff viciously laying into Baron. He bellowed something about falling for one of “that witch’s traps,” then several heavy blows rang out. I didn’t see them land, but I felt each one like a punch to my ribs.
I was hauled to an empty tent and tied to the center pole from shoulders to knees, blindfolded and gagged. My arms were yanked behind the post so my shoulders throbbed, and my ankles were bound so tightly I could scarcely wiggle my toes.I couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t do anything but stand there like a trussed-up sacrifice. One or two guards lingered somewhere nearby—I could hear them shifting occasionally—but otherwise, the tent was stiflingly silent.
The day dragged on at an agonizingly slow pace. I counted to one thousand and back down over and over again to keep my mind from spiraling. I did my best to prevent my thoughts going anywhere near Baron but it was useless. I couldn’tnotthink about him.
At one point during the day, someone outside murmured that the sheriff had beaten Baron and all attempts at counting and avoiding thinking about him vanished from my mind.
Was it true? Had Baron suffered because of me? Or was that just what theywantedme to think?
Not that it mattered. Why should I care? Why should I feel anything for someone who had lied to me for months? I wished I could carve out all my emotions and cast them aside. If only I hadn’t gone all starry-eyed over some handsome boy with rippling muscles then gotten hoodwinked. I had willingly—purposefully—kissed the son of the man I hated above all others. My sworn enemy’s blood ran in Baron’s veins. I fought down the urge to vomit.
I had been so impossibly close to escaping and now I was worse off than ever. A pox upon feelings. I wished I could rip every last one of them from my chest and grind them into dust.
