Home > Books > A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)(84)

A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)(84)

Author:Clare Sager

The trousers were staying on. I didn’t have that much self-control.

She cleared her throat and started again. “Any regrets?”

I stroked her hair to see if my instincts pulled away. But even that voice that called me an oathbreaker was silent. Perhaps it approved of me skirting the rules.

The candles winked out one by one, smothered by my shadows, but before the last of the light faded, I gave her a smile. “No regrets.”

60

Kat

I woke at some odd twilight hour feeling full and heavy and light and free all at once. Bastian pulled me close and insisted we had more time before we needed to ride out. I wasn’t about to argue.

Taking advantage of the comfortable bed and the fact he’d wrung me into such delicious exhaustion, I sank back into a sleep free of nightmares.

The Lady of the Lake might’ve called my desire for safety impossible, but in those hours, I felt safe.

We rode out before dawn, and Bastian explained that the Asharan Forest wasn’t too far away—if we took a different route back to Tenebris, we could explore the palace ruins above it and find our answers.

As we took a mountain pass inland, I couldn’t help my furtive glances at him and the shadows ghosting around his thighs. Just as I’d learned to read people’s body language, I felt like I had an idea of what the movements of his shadows meant too. Now they drifted, slow and hazy as if caught on the breeze. I took that as contentment.

Was he thinking about what he’d done with those shadows? How I’d ridden them?

I shifted in the saddle, thighs clenching as the echo of his touch bit into my wrists and waist.

His touch. Not his shadows.

Yes, they had destroyed me beautifully, but… It was him I wanted.

This—whatever “this” was—it was only temporary. Eventually I would be free of Robin, right?

Right?

What if I wasn’t? And what if Bastian was never ready to break that contract?

Not that I could ask him to. Not now I understood. I’d begged him not to kill Uncle Rufus, despite all he’d done, because he was family—because that was a line I wouldn’t cross. This was the same for him. A blot on his soul he couldn’t take.

And I wouldn’t ask him to.

Despite that, I couldn’t get him or his shadows out of my mind—what he’d said as much as what he’d done.

It cast everything in a new light.

The bindings had put the responsibility on him—or so I’d told the old lessons that tried to tell me that my body was my husband’s and no one else’s. They were full of shouldn’ts and cruel words, yet I could shake them off and point to Bastian and say he was the one in charge. I had only to obey.

His searing gaze in the mirror had been much louder, saying that I was desirable and wanted—wanted for me, not for my family name or to fulfil wifely obligations.

Riding his shadows had felt potent, and stronger still with his urging voice hot in my ear.

It felt nothing like obeying anyone else. My queen or society’s rules or my family.

It felt powerful.

These ideas shouldn’t fit together. Yet as we rode and I pondered, I understood the factor that resolved the apparent contradictions.

Will you obey? He had given me the option.

I had chosen to do as he told me. I always had the power to stop it at any time.

In the rest of my life, I had never had those things.

“Obedience is power,” I murmured, “when it is a choice.”

“What’s that?” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I clamped my mouth shut.

“Uh. Nothing.”

“Just because you can lie doesn’t mean you’re always good at it.”

My face flushed. “I was just—”

He stiffened, gaze drifting to one side. “Don’t react, but we’re not alone.”

A chill raced through my veins, yet I made myself chuckle as though he’d said something funny. “What should I do, then?”

“Subtly check past me, behind and to the right.”

I nodded and scratched my forehead, using the opportunity to flick my eyes in that direction.

A shape briefly visible between the trunks, but soon gone. “I saw it. A person.”

“Hmm.” His jaw tightened. “We keep going. I’ll listen out for them. As soon as we’re out of sight, I’ll send my double out.”

Throat tight, I loosened the buckle attaching my bow to the saddle.

At the next fork in the road, he steered us left, away from our unknown tail.

Bastian cocked his head as we rode on and murmured that they’d swapped to the other side. We turned right at the next opportunity.

“Shit.”

“What?” I asked, eyeing his fingers squeezing the reins.

“They switched again. They’re herding us west.”

Cold crept through me. “If they’re fae, they could’ve moved so quietly you wouldn’t be able to hear them, right? They made that sound on purpose.”

“Yes.” He steered closer, letting his knee brush mine as he gave an encouraging nod. “We’ll be fine. We’re going to give them a little surprise. On my signal, turn left and ride hard. I’ll be with you. But we’re going to race past them, stop them controlling our path. All right?”

My pulse sped, but I nodded and patted my stag’s shoulder. If this was Vespera, it would be like a night as the Wicked Lady. A shady forest. An enemy to evade. I flashed Bastian a cocky grin. “I got away from you, didn’t I?”

He snorted and shook his head.

I hung on his every gesture and breath, waiting for the signal. As we crested a low ridge, he pulled on his stag’s reins. “Now!”

Thighs squeezing, I steered into a tight turn and urged my stag into a gallop.

We sped through undergrowth and dodged tree trunks. My heart roared to be racing through the forest, and I ducked closed to my steed’s back. “Come on, stretch your legs.”

And he did.

The world blurred by, and soon enough a cloaked form rose from the undergrowth.

In a blink, I steered past them. I peered over my shoulder with Bastian on my tail, the stranger spinning on the spot but left behind. They wouldn’t be able to outrun our stags.

Grinning, I looked ahead, but another figure blocked the way. A fae woman, bow drawn.

“Kat!” Bastian’s voice at my back.

With a gasp and no conscious thought, I steered into a dense clump of trees.

An arrow thrummed somewhere near my shoulder.

Close. Fuck. And two of them.

Then came the sound of thunder.

Could a storm cover our escape? But I heard no rain on the canopy.

When I looked over my shoulder, I understood.

Deer.

Dozens of them. Hinds, mostly, all with riders.

They galloped after us and pulled alongside, their lack of antlers allowing them to cut beneath the lowest branches with ease.

I shot Bastian a wide-eyed look. Who the fuck were they?

He shook his head, as clueless as I was. “Stay with me.”

They forced us west, not responding when Bastian demanded to know who they were.

As long as we travelled with them, they kept their distance, but as soon as we tried to break through their moving blockade, they closed ranks and fired upon us. My stag grunted as an arrow clipped his leg.

Ahead, the trees thinned out. We’d be at the advantage then—on a clear course, our stags could outrun the smaller hinds. “Come on.” I patted his shoulder, urging him towards the forest’s edge.

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