Bright sunlight stings my eyes. I turn away from it, holding up a shielding hand. Adan’s silhouette eclipses the opening.
“We’re here.” His voice is laced with excitement like a kid on a summer morning. He extends his hand down to me. Outside, seagulls’ lazy caws, mixed with a warm breeze, unwind the worst of the knots that formed in my muscles overnight. In the light of day, my fears look overblown. Adan saved me. He might be a stranger, but that doesn’t make him a villain. He could truly be the kind-hearted boy from a big, boisterous family who wants to take me to Salensa and marry me.
Even though my rational mind tells me all this, however, my gut doesn’t believe it. I saw something in Adan and his brothers last night that scared me.
Still, I’m here, now. And gods, I want off this stinking boat.
So, I let Adan help me up. It’s mid-morning, judging by the sun’s position. On deck, I get a clear view of an open river valley. An overgrown apple orchard hugs one side of the river, and the other is bare fields, plowed into tidy rows in preparation for planting. The dock belongs to a mill with a rusted-out waterwheel; it doesn’t look like it’s been operational in years.
On the riverbank, a blonde man in a cloak sits atop a horse with four more saddled horses at the ready.
I glance at Adan’s two brothers, who are unloading duffle bags of supplies and affixing them to the saddles. Last night, they didn’t bother to introduce themselves. They still don’t.
“Where are we going?” I ask Adan, nodding toward the horses, trying to keep my voice from breaking and betraying my nerves.
“A cottage—it’s a few hours’ ride. It belongs to a friend. We’ll be safe there until we can travel to Salensa.”
We mount the horses and ride inland through the overgrown orchard, which gradually blends into woods. I can’t be certain of where we are, but the Blackened Forest sits somewhere on the north side of the Innis River. From everything I’ve heard, the trees there tower like monoliths, and the leaf cover is so dense it gives the forest its name. Surely Adan wouldn’t be taking me there—it’s the opposite direction from the coast.
The further we ride, the shorter his answers get. His brothers say nothing, unless it has to do with the route. I try to memorize any landmark tree or noteworthy stream we pass, in case I need to return this way. Not that I expect things to go bad, but I’d be lying if the possibility of needing a sudden escape wasn’t fixed in the back of my mind.
Finally, we descend into a hollar, where a cottage crouches in an overgrown clearing. Though sawdust on the ground indicates it’s had some recent repair work, it looks largely abandoned. Tall grass grows higher than the front porch. The windows are boarded up.
My heart sinks all the way down to my tailbone. This cottage doesn’t feel like freedom, either.
Inside, the cottage is in only slightly better condition than it looked from the outside. There are two rooms: a tiny bedroom with bunks, and a main room with a table and chairs, an ancient iron stove, and two rocking chairs by the fireplace. Even though it’s spacious, it feels crowded with the five of us—but it doesn’t matter, because Adan’s brothers soon go outside to chop firewood.
Adan starts to leave, too, and I grab his hand in a rush of nerves, my gut telling me that I shouldn’t be here. “Wait. Don’t leave me.”
“I need to talk to my brothers.”
“About—about the route to Salensa?” I hate that the rise in my voice sounds so damn naive, but I have nothing left to cling to but this thread of hope.
“Yeah,” he says dismissively. “Stay here.”
Alone in the cottage, I don’t know what to do with myself. Everything feels cold, foreign. I don’t want to sit in the hard chairs. The beds’ straw mattresses look moldy. When I check the kitchen cabinet, there are pewter plates and earthenware cups, but no knives. They’ve all been taken away.
I pace, gnawing on my bottom lip.
Another hour passes before the door opens, but it’s not Adan. It’s the elder brother with a scar on his upper lip. He sets a sloshing bucket of water next to the stove but doesn’t leave again. There’s something distasteful about him I can’t put my finger on; he’s handsome enough, though old—nearly old enough that he could be my father, now that I see him closer up. This is really Adan’s brother? He’s dressed slovenly. It’s been a while since he shaved. I don’t want to guess when he last bathed.
He takes a few slow, menacing strides into the cottage, eyeing me up and down like I’m a full banquet after a long fast. Not the look any man should give his brother’s paramour.
I step back, fear cropping up in my chest, as I place the table between us. “Um, where’s Adan?”
His laugh sounds a lot like a sneer. “Oh, he’ll be busy for a while. Why, worried he’ll interrupt us?”
Now, my heart blows up with fear. This man’s casual delight in my fear sends desperation rising like a tide in me. There were no knives in the kitchen, but maybe there’s a fire poker—
I try to skirt my way closer to the fireplace, but the man steps in, blocking me. His blue eyes travel down the length of my body like he’s mapping out every step of a route he’s about to take. A small, fearful sound escapes my throat.
He grins. “Fuck what Adan says. You’re too sweet not to sample.”
Terror thrums through me. My mind cedes way to my body, which knows what to do. I make a break for the door, but he catches me around the waist, chuckling gruffly as I struggle against him.
“Easy, girl. I’ll make it fast.”
His words drill into my bones until I think I’m going to crumble, but some deep well of strength inside me keeps fighting. I kick and squirm, but he’s got wiry strength. He drags me, struggling, to the table and kicks a chair out of the way so he can set my ass on the tabletop. He grabs the back of my skull with one hand, while trying to pry my knees apart with the other.
“Too bad you don’t have that long hair,” he says huskily, his voice heavy with threat. “Something to hold onto. Like the reins of a horse. Bends a girl to your will, but no bother—I can make do.”
His hand fists painfully in my short hair. Crying out, I try to pry his fingers off. His brothers outside must hear my cries, right? Where’s Adan?
“Stop fucking moving,” he growls, his terrible grin gone now.
“Let me go!” I shout, baring my teeth. “Adan will kill you!”
“Adan? Adan isn’t in charge.”
He shoves me back against the table. I try to lock my knees together, but he manages to wedge his body between my thighs, then shoves fistfuls of my skirt up around my waist. His hand probes roughly around my cleft. He gets a finger beneath the band of my panties, but before he can shove them aside, I buck my hips to push him away.
“Wait!” I gasp, my mind’s gears whirling as fast as my lungs are pumping for breath. “Wait, not here. Not, um, like this. At least—at least do it in a bed.”
“I told you,” he says curtly, “shut up, and it’ll be over soon.”
“Please, it’s—it’s my first time. At least do it in a bed. I—I won’t struggle. I’ll make it easy for you, I promise, as long as you don’t make it hurt.”