Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
“Hardly.” Brom moved to the gelding and stripped off his saddle, discarding it on the ground before gathering up the reins to use as a lead. “He was raised on the steppes of the Dead Lands.”
The same harsh and unyielding wasteland that had once been home to the Stoneheart clan—a wasteland that had produced warriors as strong and as tireless as his stallion.
Warriors who were truly stonehearted.
Familiar agony wrenched open her chest as Brom swung up into the saddle behind her. His arm circled her waist and pulled her back snugly against his solid torso before nudging the stallion into a walk. Another dream fulfilled. Oh, but her dreams were so foolish.
She’d known they were foolish. He’d all but told her they were. Because she’d asked him. A few weeks past, they’d been out on a hunt and she’d teasingly asked whether the people of the Stoneheart clan truly had hearts of stone.
Brom had replied, quite seriously, that they did.
But she’d laughed, convinced by his tender looks that his heart could not be so very hard, and said that his stone heart must then be made of the soft, white rock that formed the Chalk Hills.
That suggestion had clearly amused him—then he’d assured her that his heart was made of granite.
Flora hadn’t understood then that Brom hadn’t been joking. Yet he had warned her. So all this pain and misery was her own fault, and she had only herself and her own silly dreams to blame.
But she couldn’t bear to dwell on it. Not with him so close. Desperately she tried to think of something, anything else.
At least speaking of the Dead Lands and the Stoneheart clan gave her somewhere to start. “Your warriors aren’t with you?”
“I am likely an hour or two ahead of them. We’ll make camp for the night when they catch up to us.”
When there would be safety in numbers. Of course, that was also why she’d traveled with a half-dozen guards.
She swallowed past the ache in her throat. “How did you learn I’d been taken?”
“I rode out this morning to join your hunt.”
Oh gods. “And you came across—”
A slaughter.
“Yes.” His arm tightened around her and his voice took on that thick and ragged edge again. “I lost a short time searching for you before I realized none of the remains were yours. I sent word to my warriors and to Vash and began following the trail.”
And he must have set a pace as brutal as the ogres had. “Thank you,” she whispered unsteadily, clutching the steely forearm locked across her middle. “Even ten minutes later and…”
He’d have found her haunch, instead. And her head. And her ring.
But no need to say that. They both knew what the outcome would have been if Brom hadn’t arrived when he did. For a long moment, the nighttime noise of the forest and the steady clop of hooves seemed to press down heavily around them.
Then Brom drew in a harsh breath and cut through the oppressive quiet. “Yesterday, it seemed that little could be worse than your avoidance of me. But coming across your hunting party was worse. Knowing the ogres had you was worse.”
Flora knew not what to say. She only knew that the flicker of hope that rose in her breast was a fool’s hope and desperately tried to quash it. Just because he’d wanted her company did not mean he wanted her.
He’d said it himself. Never could he accept her. Never.
“Why have you not looked at me these past days?” Frustration burned through each word. “What have I done?”
He’d refused her hand. But never could she explain how devastating his rejection had been. Not without exposing her shattered heart…and she had a little bit of pride left. So she could only shake her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened.
“Or was it your uncle? Did he command you away from me?” His voice hardened. Another shiver raced over her skin when she felt his hot breath against her cheek, but her trembling became icy stillness as he lowered his mouth to her ear and said with quiet viciousness, “He will marry you off—sell you off—to the magic-wielders.”
In the corrupt kingdom south of Innis. And her uncle very likely would sell her off as a bride. If not to that kingdom, then another realm that he wished to make an alliance with. Flora hadn’t been useful to him in securing the Stoneheart clan, so he would make use of her with the next.
Her chest felt hollow. “It is my duty.”
“Your duty?” Brom spat the words back as if they tasted foul upon his tongue.
“He took me in after my parents succumbed to the blue fever, kept me safe and secure,” she recited dully. “It is what I owe to him and to our people, to keep them safe and secure in return.”