The man touched a finger to his blood and studied it with a stunned look. He turned to Dray, and the pupils devoured the remainder of his iris.
My horse cried as the ground bucked. He backpedaled from the fight as a gaping hole cracked beneath our feet.
A ground-mover. In the king’s quest to rid the kingdom of any curse-bearers, he gathered the most powerful people near him.
Dray’s metal tendrils wrapped between each side of the crevice and balanced him on a silver bridge, second in brightness only to the liquid moonlight. His two opponents regrouped. The second didn’t appear to use any powers, but many would be invisible to onlookers.
I tracked their movements, half ducking when a blade neared Dray’s head, only for it to whoosh over him. My body ached as a blow contacted his arm before he drew away.
Rylla gasped beside me. My attention turned toward her subtle sound, in time to see a hand wrap over her mouth before she disappeared from her saddle.
My brow creased. My mind tried to reconcile the image, half convinced it was a dream instead of reality. Warm fingers suddenly dug into my left arm as a palm clamped over my mouth and nose, trapping my air.
I tried to scream as the assailant pulled me from the horse, but his fist held my mouth tight. I jerked in the grasp, and the Curse Catcher holding me laughed.
“Did you think we’d forget about you? You should have ridden off when you had the chance.” He moved his hand enough to let me suck air through my nose. “When your head’s finally on the ground where it belongs, maybe I’ll screw your body before it grows too cold.”
He ran his tongue over my temple and his rancid breath made bile draw into my throat.
An automatic cut of fear froze me in place. Fear had long been a companion of mine. I lived afraid that the Curse Catchers would take me or my family for the lot we’d drawn. Terrified of what Dray would do after he caught me, and even more terrified at how much I liked it.
But Dray had shown me more than pleasure since I’d been in his company. He’d made me prove that I didn’t have to let fear trap me. I’d taken the Orb of Oruthur from his possession and break my curse.
I wasn’t about to let this stranger force me back into the box I’d finally escaped from.
The man’s hot breath slipped down my neck.
“Maybe just a taste now,” he whispered.
I tensed as his lips ran across the side of my neck. The touch sent bitter chills down my spine. His tongue left an unpleasant wetness on my skin, but I didn’t twist or shake in his arms. Patiently, I waited for another opportunity to take hold of my future. He reached my ear, then moved to the other side.
I smashed my head into his face. He grunted as the back of my head rammed into his nose with a wicked crunch. The man staggered, dropping me to use both hands to halt the blood spilling from his face.
Dray’s horse’s soft hide met my palm as I searched blindly for the saddlebag.
The man peered at me around cupped hands.
I fumbled for the latch of the bag. The man dropped his hands and blood flowed freely down the darkened fabric of his worn tunic.
“You’ll die for that.” He stalked toward me, my death reflecting in his eyes. One hand reached from his body with as much confidence as a soldier holds a sword. “Slowly.”
Come on, come on.
The supple leather turned to cold metal as I finally found the bag’s clasp. His steps echoed as each brought him nearer to me.
The bag opened, and I slipped my hand inside. Panic swelled as he reached that hand toward me. I didn’t know what would happen if he touched me, but I knew it would be bad.
Please be here, please.
My fingers closed around the hilt of the knife I’d watched Dray pack days ago. I’d gambled whether the blade had remained inside, and relief flooded me at the contact.
My endeavor proved a bit too late. The man’s outstretched hand touched me. His expression turned smug.
Pain. Pain like looking into the brightest sun seared through my body. I tried to scream, but my newfound voice turned hard in my throat, trapped by the rush of agony cutting through my nerves.
Distantly, I heard a laugh, but time ceased to exist in the expanse of enduring torture. Only pain.
And the cold metal clutched in my fingers.
