Between Tides Thunder(81)

“Where are we going?” I grit out, tripping over another gnarled root.

“Shut up.”

“I swear by the Tides, if you—”

He whirls, large hand coiled around my neck as he shoves me into the nearest tree. Rough bark scrapes my back as he presses me harder against it. Panic rears in my chest, sharp and hot. I crush it down before it reaches my eyes.

I won’t let him break me.

His molten gray gaze is alight with icy rage and—something else I can’t quite name.

“You’ll what?” he snarls, baring his teeth, his breath hot against my face. “I don’t think you realize what kind of trouble you’re in. If you test me, I’ll kill you. If you annoy me, I’ll kill you. If you breathe wrong—I’ll. Kill. You. Stop asking questions.”

I believe him—the thud of Daak’s body hitting the ground still echoes in my heart.

My chest heaves against his, a rough tide of anger coursing through my veins. He’s right. I shouldn’t test him. I need to bide my time and figure out how to escape. My power is suppressed, and even if it wasn’t, he’s stronger than I am. For the briefest moment, his gaze drops to my lips before he steps back and continues dragging me through the woods.

Ten minutes later, we arrive at a small camp—three tents pitched around a crackling fire.

But it’s not the fire that holds my attention.

It’s the six men crowded around it, clad in dark leather and glinting armor.

Arbinji soldiers.

The hair on my arms stands on end.

I recognize one of the soldiers.

Sulon. Zev’s second in command.

My stomach knots when I spot him, that massive, unblinking brute.

And based on the pure hatred in his cold eyes, it seems like he hasn’t forgotten me either. Sulon doesn’t speak—just stares at my bound wrists and wipes his blade clean on a rag already stained with old blood.

I struggle, digging my feet into the ground, as the Dark Commander drags me forward.

But it’s useless. My heels leave a trail of flattened grass stretching from the edge of the clearing until the firepit.

“Sit.” When I don’t move, his large hands clamp around my shoulders and force me down. “Stay.”

I snarl at him. The soldiers chuckle, though some of them eye my bound wrists with confusion. They know I’m his wife. The Dark Commander gestures to Sulon, and the two of them step farther away, voices too low for me to make out. The other five men form a semi-circle around me.

Dread burns like acid in my veins.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable.

The Dark Commander and Sulon speak in hushed voices. The second in command’s gaze rakes over me like a rusted knife. He nods at whatever his commander says, and the two men return, settling across from me by the fire. The other soldiers slowly disperse, doing whatever it is that soldiers do between killing and marching toward killing.

My husband doesn’t spare me a second glance. The other men give me a wide berth, avoiding even glancing in my direction.

All ignore me. Except Sulon.

Whenever my gaze cuts to the hulking man, his eyes are already riveted to me, a vicious whirlpool of hunger and hate swirling within them. I feel dirty just under his gaze. Whenever my husband’s back is turned, Sulon finds some way to touch me—fingers brushed over my hair as he walks past or the side of his leg knocking into mine. Every time he’s near, the scent of rust and rancid oil curls in my nostrils.

I grit my teeth and watch him, rage simmering inside me, the iron cuffs chafing at my sore wrists.


I can’t remember the last time I drank anything. My mouth is painfully dry, like I’ve swallowed sand, but I’m too proud to ask for water. The sun slowly disappears beneath the horizon, the sky darkening to a deep purple. The men stop their tasks to eat.

I’m huddled by the fire, wrists burning, shoulders sore. My eyes fall to my bound hands—my finger is bare. The Dark Commander took his betrothal ring along with my necklace. I ignore the sting that pierces my heart.

That’s the least of my worries.

Because my husband stalks over, lowering himself beside me.

I hate the way my body still responds to his proximity—I catch myself leaning closer to him before I remember that I despise him. When I recoil, his scowl deepens. He tears off a strip of dried meat and holds it to my lips. Grimacing, I turn away.

“Eat,” he commands gruffly. The firelight casts dancing shadows across his face.

“Untie me. I’ll feed myself.”

“No.” He presses the meat to my mouth again, and I snarl, flinching away from his hands.

Zev eyes me for a beat, then shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

One of the soldiers, a tall, lean man with dark eyes says, “I can try to feed her, sire, if you’re worried about her reserves. A healer would be useful if one of us is injured.”

A beat.

My husband looks like he wants to murder him. “No,” he growls.

My stomach rumbles in protest.

“Wait,” I say to the soldier. “I’m very thirsty.”

The soldier hesitates for a second, then grabs a canteen, heading toward me.

He never makes it.

Like lightning, the Dark Commander storms over and snatches the canteen from his hand.

“Don’t go near her.” His voice is venomous, a muscle pulsing in his jaw.