The fourth made it bigger.
And the fifth, accompanied by a primal roar, caused the Horrad’s fumbling hands to still, though his chest still moved.
So there was a sixth, a seventh, and then two more, and the burlap could no longer contain all the blood spraying against it. Harthon’s boot was coated with it when the giant’s chest stopped moving.
Harthon let out another terrible snarl, a primitive sound made only more violent by the sweat and blood slicking his hair to his face, the bloodied fingers curled into meaty fists, the way his bulk surged with every hungry breath.
The circle widened as everyone but me stepped away.
Harthon’s gaze cut to me, and I didn’t see all of him there. He was more animalistic than the predator standing guard at my feet. Even the wolf sensed this, one of its hind paws reaching back like it wished to step away.
He’d won.The realization didn’t hit like I thought it would, so I looked to the Horrad leader for confirmation. We may have struck a deal, but killing their best fighter could have provoked a change of heart.
That blank fabric stared at me before slowly tilting in a stiff nod. A moment later, there was movement behind Aric, Stefano, and Joris as their captors reached toward their hands.
The realization still hadn’t sunk in when they stood as freed men and Aric exhaustedly muttered, “Thank fuck,” or when two Horrads emerged from the tent with bundles that held our weapons and placed them beside me.
Only when the throng of Horrads started to disperse did my fear and dread begin to loosen their hold. Harthon dragged a palm across his forehead, pushing his hair away as he came straight for me instead of resting, torso still tilting slightly to one side.
The wolf wisely shied away, making room for Harthon to stop before me, a wall of deadly muscle and violence. His eyes a dark, wild storm, he gripped my shoulder with a firm hold, as if convincing himself I was here and whole. I rested a trembling hand on his forearm, uncaring of the blood and sweat beneath my palm, and watched as some of the savagery eased from his gaze. His chest lifted on a heavy inhale, then he pulled his hand away, hastily turning to the weapons.
Stefano, Joris, and Aric filed behind him, just as anxious to be armed, but I wasn’t paying attention to them. Harthon was a stride away, this man who’d almost died before my very eyes, this man who’d just saved our companions, this man I could never lose because if I did, I think all those ugly, suffocating emotions would tear me apart.
No, notthink.Iknewit, as surely as I knew the heat chirping in my chest would lead us into the Domus.
Harthon grimaced as he crouched over the collection of steel. I wanted to help him when he was clearly in pain, but I knew he wouldn’t want that—not with a lingering audience that needed to fear him. So I stood, waiting impatiently as he and the otherssecured their weapons with the urgency of scavenging birds feasting on a carcass.
“What are you thinking?” Aric asked Harthon, not bothering with congratulations or concern for his injuries. Stefano and Joris hadn’t either. Harthon’s injuries weren’t the priority right now.
“I think the clan leader will keep their word, but I just killed their prized fighter.” Harthon’s voice was hoarse from being choked, but at least he was breathing fine. “Some might be angry, and they might have the audacity to do something about it.”
“They might be angry, but they clearly value me.” I chimed in from above. “We just proved we need you alive to protect me. That should make them hesitate, at least.”
Harthon jammed a sword into the sheath at his back. “We can’t count on that,” he stated brusquely. “We need to leave.”
“They might have a ceremony for her or for you. Leaving before that would be insulting,” Aric said, loading his daggers. He eyed the leader, who was silently communicating with a group of nearby Horrads. “Even if they don’t, they’re expecting to host her, at least for a night.”
“She doesn’t have authority over them, but they value her life,” Harthon acquiesced. “How important do you think she is?”
“No one ever leaves the Horrads alive, and they let her negotiate for our release. That tells us all we need to know.”
“We don’t know enough about them and their ways to make those sorts of assumptions,” Harthon countered sternly. “Let’s try to leave now. If we can’t, we sneak away at the first opportunity.”
“But we can’t go,” I blurted.
Four pairs of eyes flew to me. Harthon straightened to his full height, slamming a final blade in place. “Explain, and quickly,” he demanded, sounding every bit the commanding leader hewas. Then and there, he wasn’t a man you held and kissed, though I still ached to do so.
But there was another ache, one that was growing increasingly persistent, that spewed the explanation from my mouth.
“The entrance to the path is here.” That managed to cut through his urgency, his lips parting in surprise. “And if it isn’t here, it’s very, very close.”
Over the last few weeks, I’d grown more and more in tune with the otherworldly pulse within me. Skies, I was beginning to think I wasgoodat reading it. When I woke up bound to that tree, it told me we’d made good progress, but after that, it was like the intense emotions from our capture had dampened the signal’s true call. Now that they were lifting, it was swiftly becoming clear we hadn’t justmade good progress.
We were practicallythere.
For all I knew, the Domus could be twenty paces away. The canopy of spindly branches above was so thick, it was difficult to know if those walls rose beyond it.
Harthon’s mind silently worked as the others finished strapping on weapons. When he made his decision, he delivered it with clear displeasure.
