I cringe and stop worrying.
The water is icy and clears my head. It quenches the fires of desire and allows me to focus with a level mind, replaying everything to see if it truly was how I remember…or if I’m imprinting meaning that isn’t there from the heat of the moment. Every motion, every time his hand was behind my head to ease it down to the ground. The moments he hesitated out of worry he’d been too rough, pausing to check on me.
“He loves me.” The thought is as clear as the moonlit water. A surge of elation nearly has me soaring to the heavens.
Only to bring me crashing down when a rough voice says, “Yes, you certainly seemed to enjoy yourselves.”
Winter itself sweeps through me, coating my bones in frost. The urge to drop into the water and curl up into a ball of horrorand shame is nearly overwhelming. I am naked and alone and the man’s voice is that of a predator.
But I don’t cower. I’m not going to give Bardulf, of all people, the satisfaction of my fear or the power that comes from my shame. My danger doesn’t truly lessen if I bend before him.
I slowly turn to face the source of the voice, confirming what I already knew from the sound alone. Bardulf stands off the side of the creek, leaning against a tree like Evander had when I communed with Volst. But unlike Evander, who radiated warmth and approval, Bardulf is danger. Disgust competes with hatred as it fills me.
This man will hurt me. He has already so casually violated my privacy. Even if the lykin have different notions of modesty…there’s something in his aura that feels as if he wants me to be uncomfortable. It is a gut instinct of danger that I would be a fool not to listen to.
Even though my muscles are trembling with every step, I work to keep myself calm and composed as I emerge from the stream. I must play nicely to get back to Evander.
“There is nothing quite like a dip in a cool creek.”Why didn’t I bring my clothes?I groan internally. Oh, because I didn’t think I was going to run into one of my least favorite people in the entire world as naked as the day I was born.
“You enjoyed a lot more than that.” He pushes off the tree, walking quickly. I try to pick up my pace as well. He steps in front of my path. I halt to avoid walking into him. The only thing I want less than Bardulf seeing me naked is my bare skin touching his. “What do you think Conri will say when I tell him that his prized bitch is rutting with his knight and looking like she’s enjoying it a whole lot? The same bitch that has refused to lie with him. Even better, that she thinks that cur knightlovesher. Is that true? Does that bastard love you?” Bardulf leans forward, looming over me.
“Let me pass.” I bite out the words.
“You think you can order me? No, no, you are mine now. If you don’t want Conri to find out what you’ve done then you’ll do exactly as I say.” A thin, sinister smirk slithers across his lips, arcing with the sharpness of a sickle.
“Go ahead and tell him.” I use Bardulf’s moment of surprise to step around him, trying to exude more confidence and nonchalance than I feel. I know how bad this is. But I can’t tackle it alone. I must get back to Evander. “Tell Conri whatever pleases you to say. We’ll see if he’s inclined to believe you when I’m the one that shares his bed and has his ear in a way you never could.”
Bardulf lets out a growl. A fist closes around the back of my neck. I gasp, cut short by the press of his too-large fingers, which wrap around the front of my throat with a crushing grip. He pulls me back and draws near. I stumble but keep my feet, hands going to my throat, trying to dig underneath his grip.
“You will spend every day of the rest of your short life regretting challenging me,” he snarls. “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me you’ll be my good girl and maybe I can overlook this.”
“Let me go.” I can’t tell if the words are soft and raspy from the grip he has on me, or the rage I feel.
“Or what?”
“You saw what I can do in the last encampment. I’ll have the earth open and swallow you whole.”
It’s an empty threat—Brundil’s magic is still too weak for me to ask anything more of her. But Bardulf clearly doesn’t understand that component of spirit magic, because his grip slackens some.That’s right, I want to say,you lykin aren’t the only ones with teeth.Then, his hand tenses again, firmer than before. I can feel my heart throbbing against the pads of his fingers. Pain blossoms behind my eyes.
“You wouldn’t dare hurt one of Conri’s knights.”
“Try me.”
He doesn’t move and neither do I. We both take two breaths, seeing who will snap first. He has me by the throat, literally and metaphorically. But he thinks I have powers he can only dream of. Though, if he changes into his wolf shape, he’s faster and stronger than any spirit I could think to summon. Do I keep trying to talk down the situation or do I try and make the first strike?
Bardulf grunts, frustrations boiling over. I open my mouth to speak. But neither of us gets to make whatever move we’ve been planning.
Out of nowhere, a blur of shadow crashes into Bardulf. I am pulled down with the tumble of muscle and fur, at least until Bardulf releases me as shock slackens his hand. I tumble over leaves and roots. They dig into my flesh, scratching but not causing major damage.
I collect myself to the sounds of snapping maws and growling. There isn’t one wolf on the ground now, but two. They tumble and roll. Claws and jaws and blood.
“Evander!” I shout as Bardulf pounces on him. Crimson explodes across the ground.
Evander bares his teeth with a sound that resembles more a roar than a snarl. He snaps at Bardulf’s throat. Bardulf narrowly dodges but Evander still rips off a chunk of meat from Bardulf.
I have to help him. The creek babbles behind them. I can’t push Brundil again so soon. But Volost…
Scrambling up, I dash past the wolves. Bardulf takes note and snarls but Evander pounces upon him, taking him down before he can charge after me. Splashing into the water, I kneel, folding my hands and closing my eyes.
