Page 53 of A Cruel Kindness

My heart launched into my ribs as if it would be happier falling into his hands. Swallowing through the surge of emotion, I climbed down from Clover.

The second my feet hit the ground, her and Lucky took off into a full gallop, leaving a small wind in their wake.

“Well,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Clover clearly thinks I’m okay.”

“Are you not?” Soren asked, voice considerably lower than its normal tone.

I whipped towards him, pulled in by the rough scrape of his words. “I’m … it's … I’m fine.” I was, if Clover felt comfortable leaving me. Maybe it was that she knew I was with Soren, as if that made me safe.

It certainly felt like it did.

Soren didn’t seem too impressed by my answer, so I stepped toward him, entering his warmth and earning a greater depth of his scent, and said, “I’m okay. Are you going to show me inside or are we going to wait here all night?”

That made Soren smile. Finally. “Alright, princess. Let’s go.”

I stepped close enough to him to give silent permission that we should stay pressed together. His hand casually found my waist, wrapping along my back and settling low on my hip.

I got no small ounce of satisfaction from the fact that we would be walking in together like this.

People openly stared at us as we walked by, and I couldn’t tell whether it was because they were from Vir and recognized me or if they were from Muli and I was nothing but a new face, Matched with someone who had surely developed a rather infamous reputation for himself.

I had no time to think about it as we stepped through the open doors and into the main space, immediately thrown into a crowd far too jovial for this situation.

A band was playing lively music in the back, surrounded by a group of people dancing together in a flourish of spins and dips. Tables were scattered around the entire floor, filled with people laughing and telling stories at a booming volume. The right side of the space was filled with a long bar, with a backdrop of countless bottles of alcohol, some clearly smuggled from Vir and some that surely were produced here.

It was the first time I’d ever been in a bar, though I doubted they were constantly as rowdy as this one was.

Soren laughed low and amused from next to me, seeing right through my inexperience. “Shut up,” I growled back, not above stomping on his foot.

“Oi!” Esme called from across the bar, motioning to the large table she’d sat down at, before turning back to the conversation she was in. Ford sat next to her, staring into a glass of amber liquid.

“Go,” Soren said. “I’ll grab drinks.”

“You don’t even know what I—and he’s not listening to me,” I finished with a grumble, watching Soren stride off towards the bar without bothering to ask what I preferred to drink.

I walked toward Esme and Ford, intentionally ignoring the hushed whispers trailing in my wake. If there was one thing I was used to, it was whispers and stares.

The person talking to Esme was leaning back on the chair next to her, so I sat down next to Ford instead. I wasn’t sure what happened, but the second I sat down, it seemed to open the floodgates.

Three women approached him at the same time, each speaking over the other as they asked if he wanted a drink, to dance, or to step outside where it was quieter.

I tried to restrain my laugh as Ford turned slowly, forcing a pleasantly passive smile to his face. It was naturally lopsided due to his scar, but it gave him a rakish grin that I was sure was appreciated by people who weren’t haunted by their disturbingly handsome Soul Mate. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.”

This time, I had to lift my hand to my mouth to cover my smile. One of the girls turned to the other two and snapped, “I got here first.”

“Calm down, Tabitha,” the other shot back, which prompted the third to say, “Shut up, both of you.”

Ford watched with a vaguely amused look on his face, while I was just content to sit back and let this whole thing play out. The women seemed kind enough, but I was more interested in seeing what Ford was going to do.

By looking at him, I noticed that the person Esme was talking to had left, but she still kept her back turned to the conversation.

“There’s a bottle of whiskey behind the bar on my tab,” Ford told the group. “Feel free.”

That was enough to appease them for the time being it seemed because they fled towards the bar quickly. Only then did Esme turn around, meeting my eyes. There was something in her expression, but I wouldn’t point it out.

“They’re probably going to finish the bottle,” Esme said to Ford.

“Fine by me,” he said, looking somewhere over my shoulder. Soren had returned with a bottle of amber alcohol and four glasses.