“She hasn’t departed,” Rylan adds. “She fled to the stable in worry or shock. That’s not abandoning you, so don’t give up on her. Go talk to her.”
As I stare in the direction Isabeau fled, I try to quash the flare of hope in my heart. To have a spouse who wants me, who accepts me, who loves me ... is that possible?
Chapter 27
“Sometimes [the faeries] contrived to induce, by their fair and winning ways, unwary men and women to go with them.”
—The Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotlandby Walter Gregor [1881]
I follow Isabeau into the stable. The sweet scent of horses, straw, and hay meet me with the usual result of easing my worry. The four men who currently work there glance at me.
“Take the morning with your families. Travel together.” I smile at them.
They all nod and then leave without a word, and I am grateful that the villagers who cycle in and out of service at the manor are bound by magic to silence. I know Isabeau hears me. She watches me as she paces next to her horse like she’s a vicious thing, and I cannot help the flutter of worry that comes over me at the sight of her agitation.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I say softly. “I wanted to tell you before we ... before ... but I was selfish. I was impulsive, and ... I am sorry.”
“That we were intimate?”
“No, but I am sorry that I am not the person you thought I was,” I correct. I give her a wry smile. “How could anyone regret being in your arms?”
“I will speak to the queen. Surely, ageascan be withdrawn by some act,” Isabeau begins. “Your curse—”
“I am not cursed.” I step into her path. “My father thought I could pass this obligation to someone else if I married. He chose a husband for me and ...” I give her a smile. “I told you how that went. My body didn’t sing with him. My heart didn’t thrill. I was already in love with someone else.”
“I cannot accept this, Gabrielle.”
“I cannot change how I feel, but I forgive you of your words of marriage,” I say quickly. “I will not trap you.”
Isabeau grabs me, hands firm on my shoulders. “I cannot accept that you are the Hunter. I ambeyondgrateful that you love me.”
I shake my head as a bitter laugh bursts out. “There’s nothing to accept. You saw me fight, Isabeau. You felt me defeat you. You know I can find whatever creature is slaying—”
“You continue to misunderstandme, now.”
I pull out of her hold and walk away from her. I feel like my heart beats in my throat as I tell her, “The only way I stop being the Hunter is if I die.”
“No.” Isabeau approaches me, stalking toward me not unlike a predator. My body thrills at the aggression radiating off her, unable to control the possessive surge inside me. She feels like an equal, a person I could have and hold. She says, “I would burn the world to keep you safe, love.”
Hearing her call me “love” in that moment sends a frisson of hope through me. The words I want to say tumble together, but no sound parts my lips.
Isabeau stops in front of me. “I do not doubt your strength or your ability. I simply do not want anything to hurt you, especially because Iaskedyou to hunt this creature. I intend tomarryyou, to cherish you, and I cannot stand being responsible for your death or injury.”
I step backward. It’s either that or I leap into her arms, and I doubt anything would be resolved by having relations with herinsteadof conversation. “I don’t know that marrying you is wise, Isa—”
“Liar.” She gives me the same arrogant smile that has always made me want to swoon. “You said I needed to hear your secret first. I have heard it.”
“You ran,” I whisper.
“For a moment, love. I wanted to lock you away. I would claw a moat in the ground with my bare hands. Fill the water with venomous serpents.” She cups my cheek in her palm. “I am filled with panic, Gabrielle. This monster kills.”
“Yes, it attacked me in the forest. You were there, after,” I confess.
“I thought you fell.” She crushes me in her embrace. “Never lie to me again. Swear it.”
“I swear.”
We stand in silence a moment until I pull back and ask, “Are you certain? About still wanting to be with me?”
