I shook off those thoughts, glaring at Octavian as he mounted his horse behind her and pressed entirely too close to her back. She kept her face carefully neutral, not giving way to any of the disgust I knew she felt having him touch her. “Don’t worry, Princess,” Octavian said, staring at me briefly before he winked. “I can give you a ride later, too, if you like.”
He kicked his horse into a walk, his heels digging in far more harshly than necessary. He took off at a fast trot, jostling Fallon in her seat so that she bounced into his lap.
Caldris mounted his own horse, walking up alongside us as we moved forward. “Behave,” he ordered, not even glancing toward me. I glared back, knowing without a doubt that the fucking ass could feel it even if he couldn’t see it.
“Is he really just meant to be allowed to violate her like that? What of her right to not be touched like that?” I asked.
“She hasn’t protested once, Little One. Unless she does, I cannot interfere,” Caldris admitted.
“But we both know she doesn’t like him touching her. She’s only tolerating it…”
“To protect you from yourself, yes. I am quite aware. Unfortunately, you are looking in the wrong place if you think I will try to dissuade her from doing so. Let’s not even discuss how you might as well get something out of your foolish blood oath to one another.”
Fenrir maneuvered himself between us, and I greatly wished I could forgo the horses entirely and snuggle into the warmth of his fur.
I kind of thought riding the wolf would draw some attention though.
Fuckers.
Fallon stood from her place by the fire after she’d finished eating the dried meat and bread that made up most of our diet. There were too many of us to feed with the traps Caldris could set, even with the Wild Hunt being, well… Dead.
One of the shades who wanted to haunt the camp for the night popped up in front of Fallon, making her squeal in surprise. She stumbled back and two firm hands grasped her around the waist before pulling her back and settling her on top of a distinctly male lap.
A Fae male.
One who needed his hands fucking removed. After watching him torment her for the entirety of the day, I had just about had it with the violation of his hands upon her body when she so clearly didn’t like it. She smoothed out her expression each time before he could notice her discomfort, but it did nothing to stop the anger that formed low in my belly.
This brought my temper simmering to the surface. “We should get to bed,” Imelda said, standing smoothly and taking my hand. She squeezed it tightly, grounding me with the pain of her nails digging into my skin. I let her bleed me; let her take that part of me and use it to make me behave. Because I could not be trusted.
One more day with this fucker would be too much, but he showed no signs of leaving our group until we’d made our way across the boundary to Alfheimr. No doubt he wanted to be part of the procession to deliver Mab her daughter and reap those rewards.
“Come, Fallon,” Imelda said as we approached, holding out a hand to take the other girl’s. She clasped her fingers in hers to pull her free from Octavian’s lap as Caldris watched from the sidelines with Holt. Observing the interaction, but doing nothing to stop or reprimand the male for the way he tightened his hands on her waist and held her pinned in place.
She squirmed against his hold on her, the first sign of her outright refusal to tolerate his behavior. “Take your hands off of her,” I snapped, drawing his surprised stare to myself. He dug his fingers deeper, and I could practically feel the way her skin bruised beneath the harshness of it.
“No thank you, Princess,” he said, rolling his eyes at the bark to my tone. “Fallon and I are enjoying getting to know one another.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s enjoying it to me,” I said, dropping my eyes to the pained expression on her face. I recognized it all too well, the pain that brought the grimace was nothing compared to the fear of what had yet to come. “She’s coming to bed.”
“Shouldn’t you be going to bed with your mate?” one of the Fae Marked men asked, and the air around us went still. Octavian studied me curiously, peering beneath my hood to inspect the neck I knew was empty of all signs of Caldris’s markings. Yet my neck buzzed with warmth, as if the secret being out in the open meant the magic wouldn’t be able to sustain the disguise for long. Imelda stilled as if she knew the same, her body at my side going taut before she backed away slowly.
Caldris moved from across the fire, moving toward us hurriedly, but his steps were far too slow to prevent me from doing what I’d longed to do since the moment Octavian had first placed his slimy fingers on my friend.
I bent forward, grasping his wrists and wrapping my fingers around his bare skin. “Are you fond of the cold, Octavian?” I asked, summoning the golden tendrils from the snow on the ground beneath him. They reached up, wrapping around his wrists where I grasped him. Ice crept over his flesh, frost rising in delicate patterns to curl up his forearms as he stared down in shock.
I shrugged out of my hood, feeling the cold extend from my hand all the way up my arm, until the frost licked the side of my neck and my Fae Mark blazed to life in blinding white. “What the fuck?” Octavian asked when I flung his arms away, letting Fallon get to her feet quickly as Caldris finally closed the distance between us. He stayed back ever so slightly, observing the interaction with something painful crossing his face.
This was an impossible situation. Mab would not be pleased if he never returned to her, and with the secret out in the open, there was no undoing it. There was no backtracking from what I’d done.
“Your mate?” Octavian asked suddenly, pushing to his feet. His frozen hands slipped against the ground as he fought to shake off the ice clinging to him, threatening to freeze him solid entirely. His fingers looked like glass, or the first tint of blue sheen atop the lake in the beginning of winter.
“That would be me,” Caldris answered, closing the distance. He touched a hand to my cheek, turning my gaze to his. The black of my Fae Mark came to life as he trailed the back of his knuckles down my neck, awakening the darkest parts of me.
For the first time in my rage, golden threads sprouted from the ground. I twined one around my fingers, watching the way Caldris narrowed his eyes on the movement. I realized how wrong I’d been when I’d thought that my price had been a truth I gave to myself.
This was my truth. The one that I gave to Caldris as he watched me summon the golden threads. I pulled up, raising my hand toward the sky with my palm open as a bony hand lifted out of the dirt beside Octavian’s feet. The skeleton clawed at the earth, yanking itself up slowly until the second hand emerged.
Its head followed, rolling to the side as it shook the dirt off and turned to face Octavian. “Put your pet back in the ground, Caldris!” Octavian yelled, taking a step away. The terror on his face was far more than I would have expected, leading me to believe that he’d likely already had a negative experience or two with Caldris’s dead.
“This pet isn’t mine,” Caldris said, his voice laced with amusement. He turned to me, a smug smile on his face as I twirled that thread within my hand.