Page 30 of Betrothed

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Then she ran. Halting and stumbling, straight for the hunters.

For a moment, Zax could do nothing but stare. Surely, he had misunderstood. She had grown to care for him; he knew it. But she was still trying to return to her people. Trying to get away from him, who had treated her so well.

Then his instincts took over. For the first time, Zax could not bring himself to enjoy the chase. She was no match for him, and he caught up easily, pinning her to the ground.

She bucked and twisted, turning over in his grip until she was glaring at him. And still she struggled.

“Fawn,” Zax said desperately. “Please.”

Fawn threw the freckle rock at him. She had little space to draw back, so it did not hurt. Not physically, anyhow. But Zax felt that little rock as if it were a malblossom-arrow plunging deep through his heart.

The freckle rock he had gifted to her rolled to a harmless stop next to her cheek. Not far ahead, the hunters yelled. They would be upon them soon.

“I thought you would wish to be free of him,” Zax said.

Fawn did not answer. She was still crying, the air turning salty between them.

“I can be better,” Zax said. “I can get better books. I can make soap! We can go wherever you want!”

Fawn sobbed. He had made her cry. He could smell her sadness, thick and unbearable. Had he truly made her so miserable? He thought he was a good husband.

A malblossom-arrow pierced the dirt next to Zax’s head. He was running out of time. He could clasp her to his chest and run, continue their quest to find his Anderfel brother and bond them for life. But it would not make Fawn happy. And more than anything, he wanted Fawn to be happy.

Zax stood. He picked up the freckle rock next to her cheek. Then he turned and ran.

“I’m sorry,” Fawn yelled after him. “Zax, I’m sorry! You’ll find someone else!”

Zax did not turn around. Another arrow streaked past him, nicking his loincloth. Tears blurred his remaining eye, but he kept running. Despite the wound in his side, and the pain cracking his heart in two, Zax ran until the mortals were long gone.

Twelve

Errol carried Fawn back to the camp.

At least, he tried. After five minutes of manly grunting, he announced that she was probably okay to limp with her arm around his neck.

Which she was. However, Fawn couldn’t help but think of how easily Zax had lifted her, how quickly he had offered to carry her anywhere she wanted. Granted, it was easy for him. But in those later days, she had the feeling that he would have done it even if he had strained the whole time.

The campsite looked much the same as Fawn had left it, except there was an extra tent for the hunters. The hunters mumbled their goodbyes and headed in for the night, both of them white-faced and haunted after watching their friend get squished by a falling bathtub.

Chastity was sitting next to the dying campfire. She stood as she heard them approach, and she actually looked relieved to see Fawn with them.

“Well,” Chastity said, petting her long blonde hair into place. “That’s over, then. Where’s the other one?”

She gestured at the hunters.

“Fallen in battle,” Errol said. “Mother, take her, will you?”

He unwound Fawn’s arm from his shoulders and sat her down on a log next to Chastity. Fawn let him, too tired to do anything else. She was still crying, which was humiliating. Chastity exchanged an uncomfortable look with her son before sitting down next to her. For someone who insisted that women were so much more attuned with their emotions, Chastity was deeply put off whenever people started expressing them.

“I will fetch you some warmer clothes,” Errol declared. He walked off to his tent.

Fawn watched him go. Then she added a log of firewood to the dying fire. When she was around, fire-tending was her job.

“You look well enough,” Chastity said with a stiff, unfamiliar smile. “Except your foot. How bad is it?”

“It’s almost healed,” Fawn said, adjusting the new wood over the flames.