She got grumpy, sure, but he couldn’t really blame her for that. Nope, he could only blame himself.
Gods. She had been so excited to see new things, her face truly coming alive for the first time as her mask of indifference finally slipped away. He’d felt terrible when he told her to keep quiet and saw the flush of embarrassment climbing up her neck.
He’d made her feel bad… but what could he do? He couldn’t take her off on a holiday when they urgently needed to get her to safety. They had to find their squad and make some decisions about what the hell they were going to do if she truly refused to take her place as queen. And he had to concentrate, to listen for danger and keep them safe.
Keep telling yourself that,rumbled his beast.We all know why you told her to keep quiet.
Mathos sighed. He had needed to listen for danger, but the truth was that he also didn’t want to spend the entire journey having her chattering and asking questions. Sooner or later, she would start asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer. It would be far better to wait until they were safe and she could meet Alanna for herself. Then they could tell her everything in detail without running the risk that she’d bolt at the first opportunity.
And now she was riding, curious but silent, her throat still mottled pink from her outrage when he’d told her not to speak to the little Mabin.
Bollocks, that was the second time he’d told her to keep quiet.
She had that look on her face, the slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her face set into some kind of insipid perfection with no real expression. The look she had, he was coming to realize, when she was keeping herself in check. Hiding her thoughts and feelings.
Despite everything, she still hadn’t cried. Not even once. His mother and sisters would have collapsed into a heap of weeping and demanded hours of coddling in the first hour of what Lucilla had gone through. It was so much more than he’d expected, and it made him like her despite himself.
Of course you like her. She’s vibrant and curious. And very brave. Not forgetting beautiful. Doing her best in a completely foreign world.
His beast was right. But it was a feeling that was challenged every time she smiled cheerfully at Tor and then turned to frown at him. Or flinched when he spoke to her.
It riled him, even while he knew it was ridiculous. Any other woman, and he wouldn’t have minded that she liked his usually taciturn friend more than him. But for some inexplicable reason, not this one. Despite the myriad of reasons that he should want nothing at all to do with her, he wanted her to smile athim. Not bloody Tor.
Not that he could blame her for giving his friend all her attention. Tor had been kind to her, while he had been behaving exactly like the brute she thought he was.
As soon as they were in the woods, he would make sure she had a good long break.
And tell her the rest.
Yeah… that.
He brought his attention back to his surroundings; taking another long, slow look, checking for possible danger.
Which was when he saw it. A flash of light, and then another, coming from the roof of the small building on the hill ahead of them. A shrine probably, based on its location.
Whatever it was, it had no business having lights flashing on the roof. Shit. Someone was sending a message. And out here, surrounded by pig farms, there was only one message they might be sending.
Mathos’s body armored in thick scales as his beast roared forward. They were less than two minutes from the bridge. All they had to do was get over it and away.
To the south were several miles of open farmland before they could turn into the woods, and the lookout would be able to watch them the whole time. Ahead was the bridge and the woods, and with every mile they passed, they got closer to safety at Eshcol.
They had to get over that bridge.
“Run!” He pushed Heracles into a tearing gallop, roaring at Tor and Lucilla to follow. Thank the gods they did.
In a swirling thunder of hooves, they all fled along the dusty track.
The world narrowed to the creaking of the saddles, the snorting breath of the horses, their drumming hooves, and the wind howling across his ears.
He glanced sideways to check, and Tor and Lucilla were with him, leaning forward and riding hard. He had a sudden horror that Lucilla was riding without a saddle, but she and Penelope moved smoothly together, a graceful, coordinated unit—woman and horse together—despite their neck-breaking speed.
And then they were there, clattering heavily over the old wooden bridge, the Derrow churning and thundering below them.
Mathos immediately began hunting for a path or track into the woods. Anything that would allow them to disappear into the murky depths beneath the trees.
Up ahead, just a hundred yards away, he could see a dark opening, and he urged them forward with a shout.
They were almost there.
