Page 7 of Betrothed

“You don’t need to do anything to my foot,” she said in a rush as he reached for it. “Just… time and rest. What did you say about a spell?”

“A bonding spell,” he repeated. “So, we can grow old together.”

“But I’m mortal.”

“Yes! It would bind our lifespans. You will live as long as I do.”

Fear rippled over Fawn in a tidal wave. Being tied to a monster for hundreds, possibly thousands of years… the idea was unimaginable.

Zax sniffed the air. His smile dimmed, and his tail stopped wagging. “It will not hurt. The spell.”

Fawn forced her face to stay neutral. “You would do that? Tie yourself to me forever?”

“Yes!” he repeated. His tail swished again, but this time it seemed agitated, even upset. He leaned in close, and again she braced herself, but he did not touch her.

“You are my wife,” he said. “I prayed for you, and you came! I have been looking for you for a long time, and I will keep you for as long as I can.”

He sounded so earnest. If he weren’t so terrifying, Fawn might have been moved. But there was still the issue of his horrible glowing eye and his monstrous fangs that had ripped her husband apart.

He stood, looking uncertain. “We should leave in the morning. It takes several days to reach my brother in Anderfel.”

Fawn looked out the window at the distant mountains. So Zax never lived in the forbidden Anderfel mountains; that was his brother. Was he the source of all the terrible stories she heard about that mountain? Surely not. There was so much about unspeakable magic, more like a witch than a Skullstalker. But then again, the only other Skullstalker she’d met had magic, so much of it that he’d even given some to the human offering the Circle gave him… So maybe all the stories she heard were true.

Whatever the case, Fawn had no desire to find out.

“In the morning?” Fawn repeated. “But I’m still injured.”

“You mean this?” Zax cocked his head at her swollen ankle. “Will that not be healed in the morning?”

Fawn eyed his skin, which was rippling with scars. If those injuries had happened to a mortal, they would barely be hobbling around, let alone carrying someone up a tree. Those scars looked years old, not weeks.

“It will heal in about a month,” Fawn said, hiding her uncertainty about her timeline. It didn’t feel like a particularly bad sprain, but what did she know? She wasn’t a healer.

Zax looked crestfallen. It was baffling how expressive he could be when half his face was a skull.

“But that’s good,” Fawn tried. “It will give us a chance to get to know each other.”

And for me to escape, she thought privately. When she had healed enough, she could find some way down from the tree. Or trick him into taking her down, send him away for some reason, and escape from there.

She just hoped he didn’t find her running away from him. Then she would no doubt go the same way as Renly.

“So,” Fawn said, rubbing her throat as she imagined those big fangs tearing it open. “While I’m here, what are my duties?”

“Duties,” Zax repeated.

“Yes,” Fawn said. When he just sat there and stared at her, she continued cautiously. “You know. My… wifely duties.”

“There are duties?”

Fawn blinked at him, stunned. Why had he searched so hard for a spouse if he didn’t want someone to take care of him?

“Yes,” Fawn repeated. “Like… cleaning.”

Zax looked around the treehouse, uncomprehending. “Is this not clean?”

Fawn looked around with him. It did look quite clean, now that she scrutinized it. But she couldn’t see it perfectly in the moonlight. Maybe it was dirtier during the day.

“Alright, not cleaning,” Fawn said. “What about cooking?”