Page 53 of Ravenrose

“She’s not yours to touch.” I cock my head to the side, my eyes narrowing.

Serik’s eyes go wide, flicking once between myself and the princess, then he gives a desperate nod of agreement before dropping his gaze from mine.

“Excellent.”

Turning on my heel, I glare sharply at a sheepish-looking Wyatt as I pass him, taking the princess’ rope with me as I go. I won’t make the mistake of handing her off again. Keeping a tight grip on the rope, it grows taut when I find its end. I give it a strong jerk, nearly taking the princess off her feet as I drag her after me.

“You better watch your back, Ayer, bedding that serpent,” a voice snickers from the crowd.

More than a few shouts of agreement ripple through our little audience.

Despite myself, I let the corners of my mouth tick up in a conspiratorial smile. “She’ll learn her place.” I stop short, turning back to face the princess, who nearly stumbles in an effort not to collide into me. I let my gaze drag over her slowly—deliberately. Allowing it to linger on the tears in her skirts, on the exposed skin underneath.

She notices, of course she does. Her bound hands rush to cover her thigh, gathering the fabric together; her eyes wide, sensing the danger in my gaze.

I look back toward the others. “Won’t be long before I have the Princess of Sitara where she belongs.” My lips curve slightly. “On her knees.”

Her reaction is immediate. Wariness turns to flame-fueled rage as she glowers up at me.

I give her a little wink. And to add insult to injury, I give the rope another sharp tug, turning forward again as laughter breaks out all around us. A few men clap me on the back as I pass.

The taste in my mouth is bitter. But she’ll think twice before she crosses me again.

“To the fall of the fae!” someone shouts.

The camp erupts again with the chant. I don’t look back as I drag the princess with me toward the edge of camp. I can feel her burning gaze of fury at my back—hot and unrelenting.

When we reach the horses, I run a quick check of the gear and tighten the cinch on my saddle. Dash tosses his head, eager to set off. His dark mane falls into his eyes and he snorts, his eyes curious when he notices the little fae behind me for the first time.

Wanting to be away from this camp as soon as possible, I take the rope and secure it to the saddle before mounting.

“Don’t fall behind.” That’s the only warning I give before nudging Dash forward.

My men fall into formation around us, and together, we move out, one by one disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The raucous sound of the camp at our backs fades away behind us.

Nevertheless, I can’t shake the thought: bringing the Sitari princess with us is a mistake.

Because the little rose… has thorns.

Chapter 26

ROWAN

We don’t get very far, just far enough to be out of earshot of camp when Ayer suddenly brings up the reins—halting his horse. Sensing danger, I step back as he swings his leg off the large stallion, but the rope tethering me to him prevents any further retreat.

The rest of his company—about fifteen to twenty men—all have their eyes on me, patiently waiting for their captain.

Ayer stalks toward me, and I draw myself up, ready for anything.

“Give me your boots.” He points at my feet as if he’s ordering a servant about.

“My boots?” I raise a brow in surprise. “Why?” Are we or are we not about to travel?

“You attacked one of my men,” he answers flatly, as if that’s answer enough.

I glance around, taking in the stony expressions of the small command around us.

“This is a punishment?” I say slowly, looking back up at him. He’s got to be joking.