“This was our break.”
When I straightened, the Veiler was already holding another piece of rope.
“Is that really necessary?”
“You had five minutes unbound, be thankful.” He caught my wrists before I could argue, tying them quickly, almost carelessly.
Then he lifted me back onto the horse.
“You seem sure of yourself, Veiler,” I remarked, curling my lip.
He glanced up, his lip momentarily twitching upward before straightening again.
“Rowan.”
“What?” I raised a brow at him.
“My name is Rowan,” he stated, mounting behind me.
Why did he tell me willingly? If I ever made it home, knowing his name could endanger him. No one pitied the death of a Veiler, masked or not.
Names were weapons. Why hand me his?
I hated Veilers with a burning passion, and perhaps this Veiler even more so because of the harm he had caused Alona. However, I acknowledged that my traitorous body wasn’t as repulsed by him as my conscience demanded.
He smelled of sandalwood and leather, and I had to shake my head to rid myself of the intrusive thoughts. I didn’t need to learn all the little details about him. I didn’t want to know.
He was a Veiler. Plain and simple.
Even if he wasn’t personally responsible, he was the very representation of the people who took Willam and countless others. He was a murderer.
I had to remember that.
“Why would you tell me your name? Isn’t your identity one of your most treasured secrets?”
The horse began moving again, and I fell forward in my seat. I promptly sat up and rolled my shoulders back. He chuckled.
“It’s just a name.”
“I suppose you believe that my death is inevitable, and hence knowing your name won’t put you in any danger.”
I felt him shrug again.
“Well,Rowan, unfortunately for you, I plan on surviving.”
I would survive. I had to.
Silence lingered between us, broken only by the steady clop of hooves. Then, almost too softly to hear, Rowan muttered, “That will go away.”
“What will?” I asked, my attention drawn back to him.
“Hope.”
Chapter 7
“Hatred is a barren desert.
There is nothing for you there.”
