White Horse Black Nights (The Godkissed Bride, #1)(97)

Yeah, I lied to Sabine to protect her. It was justified. I didn’t have a choice. But a good man would have stayed away from her after breaking her heart. He wouldn’t have fucked her against a wall in her engagement party gown until she cried.

I can’t help but keep moving toward her. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want her. Not just the sex—though fuck, the sex is mind-boggling—but to have her love. To know that she thinks about me first thing when she wakes up and last thing when she falls asleep. To possess her smiles, her kind touches. To have my ring on her finger.

Stop it, Wolf.

What I want is impossible. She’s engaged to Rian, who can keep her safe. So I’m just going to have to swallow my feral possessiveness and watch them be together, knowing I’ll never have what I want.

“Wolf?” a masculine voice says, tearing me out of my thoughts. “Were you just coming out of Lady Sabine’s room?”

I jolt upright. Rian and two Golden Sentinels stand at the end of the hall, looking at me strangely. I was wallowing in my feelings so fucking hard that I didn’t hear footsteps approach. That isn’t like me. Not good. I’m losing my edge.

I straighten, one hand going to my baldric belt to ensure it’s properly fastened. “The lady wasn’t feeling well. I was checking on her.”

Rian comes closer with slow footsteps. “She said she was going to get some air on the balcony, but then no one could find her.”

I clear my throat, trying to hide my jumping pulse. “As her guard, I had eyes on her the whole time. I—I think she drank too much wine. I was about to call for Brigit to come attend to her, to help her out of her costume.”

Rian smoothly turns to one of the soldiers. “Send for Brigit. And you.” He points to the other. “Stand guard at Lady Sabine’s door for the remainder of the night.”

My heart starts slamming in my chest. Casually, I say, “I assure you, my lord, I am capable of—”

“I need to speak with you,” Rian cuts me off, rubbing his hands distractedly. “Maximan can fill your post for the time being.”

My lip curls at Maximan. I know him from my training days. He’s a mean old bugger, but a highly capable guard. If I had to pick anyone else to watch over Sabine, he’d be my choice—and not just because he’s ugly as a coyote. Still, I hesitate.

A few minutes earlier, Rian would have caught me fucking his bride. Is there a chance he suspects something?

“As you wish, my lord,” I say gruffly, though I have to force my feet away from Sabine’s door. I hope like hell she cleans up the evidence of our tryst before her lady servant arrives.

Rian says nothing as I follow him down the long hall. I keep my face stony, trying not to reveal my scrambling nerves. If he knows about me and Sabine, I’d deserve the dungeon, but that doesn’t mean I want to go there. Fuck me. People have a habit of disappearing into Sorsha Hall’s dungeon and never coming out—I know, because I put half of them there.

My fears only increase as Rian leads me to the stairs to the lower level. Our feet clunk heavily as we descend. Oh, fuck, he really is going to lock me in a cell. Like I told Sabine, there’s nothing of note in the lower levels except cold storage for foodstuffs and the dungeon. It’s always made my skin crawl down here. So dark, lit only by a few cobweb-covered lanterns. And damp enough to grow mold in my lungs.

Then again, there are also old tunnels down here connecting Sorsha Hall to other parts of Duren. They haven’t been used in years, but maybe Rian plans to take me somewhere in the city in secret. Other than the primary tunnel that goes beyond the city walls, I’ve never explored the rest of them. Most are collapsed. The castle’s original stable was housed here, underground, but it’s been in ruins for decades.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rian takes a sharp left, and I curse inwardly.

The fucking dungeon, I knew it!

My nerves jangling, I start, “My lord—”

He holds up a hand to silence me. “I don’t appreciate having my engagement party interrupted, Wolf. But if there’s any good reason for it, it’s this one. Now, I must return to my guests before they sense anything is amiss, so I’ll leave you to deal with . . . this.”

Confusion snaps in my chest until we turn the corner, where Folke Bladeborn and another man slumped to the floor appear in the light of a flickering wall sconce.

Everything I feared about Rian’s suspicion and my future in the dungeon vanishes.

“Folke?” I ask, surprised.

The last I saw him, he was unconscious outside the Manywaters Inn while the townspeople of Blackwater attempted to put out the fire. Now, he leans heavily on a new cane. He doesn’t look good—his face ashen and deeply lined—but it would take a lot more than a fire to bring his bones down.

“He arrived an hour ago,” Rian says evenly. “Through the old tunnels.”

As a former Golden Sentinel, Folke is familiar with Sorsha Hall’s secrets. He jabs his cane in the slumped man’s direction. “I brought you a present, Wolf. For saving my hide.” His grim tone is anything but festive, and it curdles something in my stomach.

I glance at Rian, but his face betrays nothing. So, crouching, I pull the hood off the man’s face. It reveals blood-matted fair hair and a face that, while hard to make out with all the bruises, is so familiar it stabs me with rage.