by Denali Day
“I know this was hard for you.”
Like settling into a rose-petaled bath.
“Thank you, Joselyn.” He took a breath. “Thank you for trusting me.”
He stood from the bed. Joselyn’s eyes flew fully open and her mouth snapped shut. She sat up.
“Where are you going?” Had that sounded eager? She hoped not. If so, Hollen didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t even looking at her as he turned from the bed and strode toward the tunnel, muttering something about “diving into a snowbank.” He paused at the door.
“Get some sleep, mu hamma.”
And he was gone.
She fell back onto the furs. What had just happened? Clarity took its sweet time creeping back.
Father would call her a whore.
This couldn’t be how whores felt. Whores must feel dirty, cheap, defiled. Her body was flushed with warmth. Her limbs heavy, like she’d imbued the finest of wines. Her nerves were alight with sensitivity. She could feel the air moving over her skin, and it felt good.
Yes. Father would be furious.
She smiled at the ceiling and played with the ends of her hair. She thought of the day’s events, of Hollen teaching her to prepare the storen he’d preserved before leaving. She’d made a mess of the poor thing, but Hollen hadn’t minded. No one had. The clan had opened up to Joselyn. At least half had tasted the storen stew and been eager to congratulate her on her kill. It had all seemed so intimate. Gratifying. Could she be happy like this forever? A thousand more days like this one?
She saw herself sitting in the common area, a perfectly butchered stag lying before her. One she’d both hunted and dressed with practiced ease. Hollen, just returned from a patrol, bent down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. She tilted her head back, and the corners of her mouth curled. His hand trailed down to press against the firm round of her swollen belly.
What would Tansy think of that?
Her smile faltered. Her fingers stilled. She might as well have been the one diving into a snowbank.
He may think he’s yours, but you are not his. You can never be.
A wave of guilt made her shudder. What was she doing? What sort of insanity was she entertaining? Was that what she wanted? To be a savage’s little captive bride?
Maybe.
Joselyn’s lips thinned. So what? It wasn’t an option. Not for her. This world owed her nothing. She was Lady Fury, and her people depended on her. She could live without Hollen. But if she abandoned those who needed her? She couldn’t live with herself. Not forever. She fingered her gold pendant, reciting the credo in her mind.
You have to do something, Joselyn. Soon.
Her duty to escape had never felt more urgent. Time was running out and, suddenly, Joselyn felt the turning of an entirely new hourglass.
18
Leaning Back
Joselyn gasped as the air flew from her lungs for the dozenth time that day. Her braid was a mess, covered in the dust of the hard ground. Hollen hovered above her on all fours, with his hands pinning her arms to the dirt. Joselyn’s knife lay a good foot away from her.
“One of these days you’ll stop leaning back.” His breath poured over her balmy flesh, making her shiver in the snow-flurried air.
A foot of fresh snow had collected on the ground outside the armory since they’d begun the day’s lessons. They’d have to quit soon, or their trek back to the common area would leave their boots soaking. Joselyn growled through gritted teeth.
“These lessons are asinine. We both know I’ll never be able to best you.”
Hollen’s grip on her wrists tightened as he flashed an arrogant smirk. “Not if you keep leaning back you won’t.”
Normally, when Hollen pinned her to the ground, he would peel himself off before she had time to fully acquaint herself with the cold earth. This time, however, the shirtless Dokiri man took his time. Fresh heat, leftover from the night before, bloomed low in her belly. His eyes brazenly trailed down the flesh of her neck, and lower.
Joselyn squirmed beneath him. “This is undignified. Get off me!”
Hollen returned his eyes to hers and his lips drew into an exasperated pout. “No one’s even watching us today. Stop worrying so much about what you look like.”
Joselyn fixed him with an imperious glare. “I’m a lady of Morhagen. I should always be concerned with how I appear.”
Hollen rolled his eyes and reached to the side to scoop up a handful of dirt. Before she knew what he was about, he dragged his filthy fingers across her face from brow to chin.
Joselyn stared at him in openmouthed shock.
Devilish delight filled his eyes. “Now you’re a lady of mud. Which is good because that’s where you’ll keep ending up if you don’t stop leaning back.”
No sound came out when she tried to speak. She could hardly believe his impudence. “Why would you do that?”
He leaned forward, stopping a scorching inch from her face. “Sport.”
How dare he? In that moment she would have done absolutely anything to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. Without thinking, she brought her free hand up and jammed her thumb into the pit of his arm.
Hollen flinched, then froze, his face screwed up in confusion.
Joselyn poked him again, and his arm clamped down to shut her out.
A smug smile crept across Joselyn’s mud-streaked face.
Hollen’s eyes narrowed, his expression murderous. “Which one of them told you?”
Victory. Her smile tightened. “Does it matter?”
He regarded her, the wheels of his mind seeming to spin. “I’ll kill that podagi runt.”
Hollen withdrew and climbed to his feet. Joselyn bolted up and flung herself at him, growling as she did. The force of her attack knocked him over, and Joselyn hopped on top of him. She jabbed her fingers into any open space she could find on his scarred body.
For several moments, all Hollen did was thrash about as she attacked him. He tried to catch her darting hands.
“Stop!” he commanded. Joselyn ignored him and her assault grew even more frenzied.
“Beg for mercy!”
“Joselyn, stop!” he pleaded.
Joselyn laughed. Satisfaction dizzied her. She had him. He was at her mercy.
Hollen caught one of her wrists. In the time it took him to grab the other, she managed two more solid jabs. Each made his body jump. Hollen was panting, and Joselyn’s body rose and fell with his chest. She shook her head.
“The mighty Salig of Bedmeg, bested by a lady of mud.” Joselyn clucked.
Hollen’s mortified expression dissolved, and mirth replaced it. “Well Joselyn, if the men of your lands are anything like you, your father’s enemies are doomed.”
At the mention of her father, awareness washed over her. She was straddling her captor, practically mounting him. As if he noted her shock, his pleasured grin dissipated. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
She slid off his chest. Hollen sat up from the ground and propped his hands behind him for support. He stared at her, and the awkwardness stretched between them.
Joselyn spoke, eager to fill the silence. “My father’s enemy isn’t the kind one defeats with force.”
Hollen cocked his head. “I thought you said his enemies were violent. That they would destroy your house.”
A chill crept up Joselyn’s spine as she thought of Dante Viridian’s many infamous deeds. “Oh, they’re violent. But it’s not their nature my father fears. It’s what they know.”
“What do they know?”
Should she answer him honestly? Temptation nettled her. There was a bitter part of Joselyn’s soul, since the moment she’d learned of them, that was desperate to divulge her father’s sins. A part that longed for someone to recognize and appreciate what her sacrifice was paying for. Of course, she wasn’t free to reveal her circumstances to anyone. Not even to Tansy.
Joselyn appraised her captor. What would the political intrigues of a fore
ign court mean to a barbarian? What did she risk by telling the chieftain of a clan so reclusive their existence bordered on legend? Joselyn sucked in her lips.
What could she say? That her father had made a mistake? No, his affair with the queen had gone on for too long. His actions had been meditated. Marcus Fury was no fool. If he’d taken such a risk, he was hoping to gain something. Something more than the release of an occasional forbidden tryst. Her father had been spinning a web of destruction for the royal House Travaran. He’d been close to entangling himself in that web.
And now I have to clean up the mess.
“My father’s been having an affair with the queen.” As the confession left her mouth, Joselyn felt the dark hand of secrecy slackening its grip around her chest. She sucked in a breath, the deepest she’d managed in a fortnight.
“What’s an affair?”
Taken aback, Joselyn looked up into Hollen’s squinting eyes. Confusion was wrought on his face. Was he being serious?
“It’s…like when a man is with a woman who isn’t his wife.”
Hollen blinked back. He spoke hesitantly. “You mean bedding?”
She nodded.
A corner of Hollen’s mouth turned up in disgust.
Shame suffused her. Of course he’d be repelled. Joselyn had firsthand knowledge of the respect with which the Dokiri men regarded their unions. She doubted the crime of adultery was treated lightly in Bedmeg. Would Hollen think less of her for her connection to an adulterer? For helping to cover it up?
She explained. “The king would see it as more than a betrayal of his union. He would have my father executed for treason. My entire house would suffer.”
A moment passed. “What’s any of that to do with you?”
She swallowed. “My father has bought his enemies silence with a marriage alliance.”
Hollen’s brow furrowed. He didn’t understand. She continued.
“House Fury is wealthy and very powerful. Dante Viridian stands to gain far more as a blooded ally of my father than as his enemy.”
Hollen stared at her. Comprehension still eluded him. How could she make this clearer? She started to speak when Hollen’s face slackened as realization registered.
His next words were almost a whisper. “You mean . . .you were to be married to your father’s enemy?”
Joselyn thought back, trying to understand how he’d missed that key detail. She supposed she’d never expressly stated that Dante Viridian was also the man who was threatening her house. She frowned.
“What did you think?” she asked.
Hollen shot to his feet, making Joselyn jump. She stared up at Hollen who stood seething above her. What in the skies? His volume ratcheted.
“I thought your marriage was the price your father had paid to gain allies against his enemies!”
What was wrong with him? Why was he raising his voice? Affronted, Joselyn scrambled to stand. She swiped at the dirt on her face.
“My father needs no allies.” She shook her head as though the fact were obvious. “He’s the most powerful man in Morhagen save for the king. What he needs is silence.” She planted her hands on her hips, glaring up at him.
Hollen’s eyes bled black like scorched parchment. His accent thickened. “So, to save himself from his sins he would sell his only child to a man who would turn on him?”
How nice it must be to be shocked by such things. Her hands shot out. “Yes! House Viridian is on the brink of total obscurity. Its reigning lord is a joke, its lands in decay, and the only heir is a madman. There’s nothing Dante Viridian wouldn’t do to save his legacy!”
Hollen went still. His expression flattened. “What do you mean ‘a madman’?”
Joselyn hesitated. The flame of her anger almost puffed out for one moment. She’d not intended to mention that. She choked on her tongue, searching for the right words. “My intended—”
“—Dante Viridian,” Hollen confirmed.
“He . . .he…” Joselyn’s heart pounded in her chest. “There were rumors.” Her gaze broke away from Hollen’s for the first time.
Hollen’s fingers pressed into the delicate point of Joselyn’s chin, drawing her face back up to his. His voice was hard as steel. “What rumors?”
Joselyn batted his hand away. Her mouth hardened into a determined glower. She wouldn’t be cowed by a savage. She’d gone willingly to a monster like Dante Viridian. Hollen, of all men, wouldn’t scare her. “The young Lord Viridian is plagued by bloodlust.”
Tension knotted in the space between his brows, drawing them closer together. Joselyn’s shoulders stiffened under the weight of his deepening scrutiny. A flash of understanding sparked across his face. Unable to stop herself, Joselyn’s gaze drifted to the little stretch of ground between them.
Hollen stomped away to stand at the edge of the nearby forge. His clenched fists dangled at his sides. Joselyn stared at his bare back, and her nerve waned in the lingering silence. Now the truth was out, she needed him to respond. To react. To judge. Someone, other than she, had to speak their mind on the disaster that was her impending marriage
Hollen turned. His wide strides reached her in a blink. He stopped, inches from her. Joselyn could see his jaw working as he gritted his teeth.
“That’s what you’ve been so desperate to leave Bedmeg for—”
‘To leave me for.’ Joselyn cringed at the subtext of his words.
“—to return to a man who harms others for morbid pleasure?”
Why was he internalizing her dilemma? Couldn’t he see this wasn’t about him? Why couldn’t he understand she had a responsibility? One she couldn’t simply set aside.
She swallowed, trying for patience. “I told you before, what I want for myself is irrelevant. What I need is to fulfill my duty and protect my house.”
“By allowing yourself to be sold? Is that how fathers”—he spat the word like a curse—“treat their daughters in your country?”
Joselyn’s nostrils flared. “You have some nerve to dare a comparison between our peoples. You, whose riders steal innocent women from their homes to subject them to a life of slavery.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps you’re right, Joselyn. Your people aren’t to blame for your father’s depravity.”
Joselyn’s mouth fell open and her arms slackened at her sides. “Excuse me?”
Hollen’s spine straightened, increasing his towering presence. “Only a wretch would use his own kin to save himself from justice.”
For a moment, Joselyn’s emotions went blank. No one had ever spoken thusly of her father in her presence. Not ever. Someone had to explain things to Hollen. He didn’t know the rules. Her words came out slow and deliberate.
“If Dante Viridian could be moved to such wickedness for mere sport, can you not see how far he would go to crush my house beneath his feet? It wouldn’t matter to him what he stood to gain or lose.”
Hollen leaned down and hissed. “That isn’t your burden to bear. You aren’t a price to be paid for another’s misdeeds.”
Her blood began to heat. She scraped for composure. “No. I’m not. I’m a lady. The only daughter of Marcus Fury. The only one who can save my father and our house.”
“What do you think? That dying for a man who doesn’t give a damn about his own blood makes you a good person?”
Damn him. Who in the skies did he think he was? “You’re a barbarian! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Hollen sneered. “If I had a daughter, I would curse my soul to the deepest pit of the mountain before risking any harm to her.”
Joselyn’s vision blurred with a flash of white rage. “Well you’ll never have a chance to prove it, savage! No woman, especially me, will ever bear you a daughter! Because even your meager gods know better than to entrust a woman into your cursed people’s care!”
Hollen flinched as though she’d struck him. Some of the color drained from his face. Joselyn glared, refusing to back down. Time slowed to
a crawl before Hollen mustered a dry response.
“At least we have room in our hearts for love.” He gave her a sweeping glance from head to toe. “And enough sense in our heads to know where to apply it.”
Humiliation wracked her. “I love my father.”
Her deepest deception.
Hollen scoffed. “Oh, of that, I have no doubt.”
Joselyn’s breath hitched in her throat, and her voice cracked on an even darker lie. “My father loves me.”
Hollen stood still as the mountain beneath him. “You’re a fool.”
Joselyn’s body went numb. Tears, the likes of which she’d not shed in years, stung her eyes. She cocked her head, intending to throw back a retort, but her jaw went stiff. She tried to swallow but her throat was clogged.
Hollen watched as she worked to stem her tears. His black eyes chilled further as he leaned in. “If ever I had considered returning you to your father, I swear to you, no one could convince me to now. You will never leave this mountain, mu hamma.”
A wave of nausea rolled within her. Joselyn pressed a sluggish hand to her belly. Her lip trembled as the taste of salt filled her mouth. She had to get away from him. Now.
Bumping into his side, Joselyn ducked away to run out into the curtain of snow that flurried to the earth.
She trudged up the ravine, kicking white drifts into the air like the foam of crashing waves. She had no sense for where she was going, only that she couldn’t let anyone see the tears spilling down her face.
He was wrong. He didn’t understand. Who was he to judge her motives? To judge her father? What did a savage know of the burden of nobility? Who was he to comment on what a lord must do to protect his house, his blood?
My father arranged my marriage to Dante Viridian because it was the only way he could protect me from total ruination.
That was what anyone would assume. And why not? It made perfect sense. But no, somehow Hollen had jumped to believing Lord Fury didn’t love her.
Hollen didn’t realize that no lord would have wed her after the scandal of Lord Fury’s treason was made known to the world. No one would have been willing to tie themselves to the disgraced daughter of a dead traitor. This had been the only reasonable choice. If not for Hollen’s ignorance, he would have thought of these things on his own. She could tell him. She should go back there right now and educate the cruel bastard. Then she’d tell him to go to hell.
