She rolled her eyes.
“You’re not going to read to me?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
I dipped my head closer to hers, unable to stop myself from teasing her. “Maybe I’ll read to you later.”
Her chin lifted. “That’s not necessary.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” she muttered.
I laughed, enjoying the warmth that invaded her cheeks. “How far did you get, Princess?”
She stubbornly mashed her lips together. I waited for an answer. It came with a sigh. “I almost finished it.”
Surprise flickered through me, along with something hot and smoky. That was much, much further than I thought she would have read. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
Her nose scrunched. The corners of her lips twitched, and then it happened.
Poppy smiled, and it was wide, crinkling the skin at her eyes. It was beautiful.
Then she laughed, and it was no quiet chuckle, but a deep, throaty one.
And I…I lost my breath for the second time in my life. The nape of my neck tingled. I’d never seen her smile like that. I’d never heard her laugh like that. And there was another clenching sensation in my gut. I was…enchanted.
It took me a few moments to realize that Poppy had relaxed into me. She had been sitting straight, keeping her back rigid, but not anymore. She leaned into me, her head resting against my chest and fitting rather perfectly against my body. Again, I couldn’t help but think like I had before I took her to the Duchess. That in a different life, I would’ve been built for this. My arm tightened around her.
The ease in which she sat—how she allowed me to hold her—didn’t last. Not with the sun setting. Not with what I could now see in the distance.
A horizon of red.
Our pace picked up, and it wasn’t long before Poppy saw it. She tensed, then sat straight as each step carried us forward, until all any of us could see was the gray, twisted bark and leaves the color of dried blood.
We were on the outskirts of the Blood Forest now. There was no teasing. Hands were at the ready, including Poppy’s. Hers had fallen to the hilt of her dagger. All of us were on alert. The only sound was the horses’ hooves passing over rock, and then the crunching of something much more fragile.
Poppy started to look.
“Don’t,” I warned her. “Don’t look down.”
But, of course, she did.
I glanced at her, seeing her face pale as she stared at the dull, scattered bones along the path.
Gasping, she jerked and face forward. “The bones…” She swallowed. “They’re not all animal bones, are they?”
“No.”
Her left hand went to my arm. “Are they the bones of Craven who died?”
“Some of them,” I said, knowing I shouldn’t coddle her. This was far more dangerous than barrats. I felt her tremble, and I cursed beneath my breath. “I told you not to look.”
“I know,” she whispered.
I kept scanning the spaces between the trees, but mostly the ground. We were good. So far. There was no mist.
The ground became a tangle of exposed roots and larger boulders, forcing us to slow and ride in a tight line. Airrick’s mount reared, catching the scent of something it didn’t like. Kieran had caught it, too. His head turned to the north, his jaw tight. As we traveled farther, and the temperature dropped, I picked up on what they had already scented. The faint stench of decay.
“No leaves,” Poppy whispered.
I saw that she was staring at the forest floor. She then looked up at the thick canopy of red leaves above us. They had glistened in the fading sun. Not anymore. Now, they were dark as puddles of blood against the rapidly approaching night.
“What?” I leaned into her, speaking low.
“There are no leaves on the ground,” she said. “It’s just grass. How is that possible?”
“This place is not natural,” Phillips answered from ahead of us.
“That would be an understatement.” Airrick wrinkled his nose.
That, I could agree with. I leaned back. “We will need to stop soon. The horses need rest.”
Poppy’s hold on my arm tightened. I could feel the press of her fingers through the sweater I wore beneath my cloak. She didn’t protest or complain nor lose her nerve. No one would’ve blamed her if she did. The rest of us had been in the Blood Forest before. She hadn’t. And with her experience as a child?
Poppy had to be afraid, but she wasn’t terrified. I knew that by her easy breathing, the calm way she kept an eye on our surroundings, and that right hand steady on her dagger.
I smiled.
HER PLEASURE
After checking on Setti to make sure he had enough hay to nibble on, I crossed the campsite, my attention not straying far from where Poppy lay, having wrapped herself in a blanket. I moved quietly, not wanting to wake the four guards currently sleeping as I joined Kieran—they would be up soon enough to relieve the rest.
“What’re you looking at?” I asked, noting that he was staring ahead.
“The stream,” he answered, voice low. “The water is red.”
I squinted, catching sight of what he spoke of several yards out in the moonlight. “When Airrick said this place isn’t natural, he wasn’t wrong.”
“No shit,” Kieran remarked as he folded his arms.
I scanned the shadows, my gaze settling on Poppy. She was awake, her eyes popping open every time a twig snapped, or the wind shook a branch. Even from where I was, I saw that she shivered. It was damn near frigid. But when she did fall asleep, would it be peaceful? Or would nightmares find her? Seemed likely in a place like this.
I looked at Kieran again. “The Craven you picked up on earlier today? How far do you think they were?”
“Far enough.” He paused. “For now.”
I knew what he was saying. We wouldn’t be able to rest here for too long. Sooner rather than later, the Craven would realize that fresh blood and flesh were moving about their domain.
“Been talking with Phillips a bit,” he said.
“I’ve noticed.”
“He asks a lot of questions and is observant as fuck. He’s suspicious.”
“Of us?” I found Phillips in the distance, guarding the western side of our camp.
“So far, just in general,” Kieran answered.
“So far is a common theme, I see.” I checked Poppy. Her eyes were closed. She was still shivering.
“You surprised me earlier,” Kieran remarked.
“Yeah?” I turned my attention back to him.
Kieran was looking in Poppy’s direction now. “You laughed.” He squinted. “You laughed in a way I haven’t heard you do in years.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and we stood there in silence for several moments.
“She’s cold,” I finally stated.
“She appears to be a moment away from shaking herself across the forest floor,” he observed dryly.
“She’s not used to this.” My eyes narrowed on Poppy. “And she’s not us.”
“I was just pointing out that she’s cold.” Amusement filled his tone. “No need to get defensive.”
“I wasn’t—” I cut myself off. I was being defensive. Of her. My shoulders tightened.