“I’d like that.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
After making my way up to my room, I paced, debating the merits of stealing a horse from the stables and striking out on my own. There were definite benefits to traveling with the mercenaries—including their hunting and cooking skills, and the fact that they seemed to know all the best routes to avoid the guards.
But there was no doubt that a single woman traveling with five men drew attention. I could pull up the hood of my cloak, but I couldn’t disguise my build.
Finally, I fell into bed and slept the sleep of the half dead. Each time I stirred, awoken by a loud laugh from the hallway outside my room or the voices of angry drunkards below me, I immediately slid back into a sleep so deep, I could only hope Lorian didn’t have us up before dawn.
A scraping noise sounded. My eyes shot open, my body tense. A hand slammed down over my mouth. A huge, callused hand.
I screeched, bucked, kicked, clawed.
“Uh-uh,” the bearded giant from earlier snarled. Cool metal wedged against my neck. “Be nice, little bird, or I’ll slit your throat and leave you to drown in your own blood.”
My lungs burned, my throat screamed for air. I sucked deeply through my nose.
Beard pinched my nostrils closed.
I thrashed, hitting out uselessly. Black dots danced at the edges of my vision.
He lifted his hand. “Can’t have you dying too early.”
I panted, inhaling sweet, life-giving air. My limbs had turned weak. Blind terror punched into my gut. My heart stuttered. I couldn’t die like this. In a cheap inn, far from home. I refused.
“Be smart,” Tibris’s voice whispered in my head. “Wait for your chance.”
I slid my hand under my pillow and wrapped my fingers around the cool hilt of my knife. I breathed. Stilled. Waited.
The giant’s eyes glittered. His nose was broken, one eye puffy and swollen. Clearly, he was holding a grudge.
And I was the one who’d pay for it.
He looped a rope around my wrist.
“I’m going to kill you and leave you hanging at the inn entrance.” He grinned, leaning close, and his noxious breath made my head spin. “See how your man likes that.”
I could see it—Lorian and the others looking for me in the morning, only to find my dead body strung up in the inn. Cold, slimy fear burrowed into my chest and stayed there.
Beard hauled me up from my bed as if I were a kitten.
Now.
I slid my hand out from beneath my pillow and slashed at him.
The blade caught his ear, even as he ducked. He knocked the knife from my hand, the beginning of a yell leaving his throat.
He instantly cut it off with a glance at my door.
Within a second, the rope was looped around my neck, and he had me pinned to the bed once more.
I clawed at my throat like a wild animal, desperate for air.
A shriek rose in my head. The sound was high-pitched. Primal. Full of retribution.
It drowned out the couple arguing in the alley below us. It smothered the taunt of the giant on top of me. It consumed my fear and doubt, until only one word remained.
Stop.
The giant froze.
Sobbing, I ripped his hand off my mouth. But I was still pinned.
Roaring filled my ears. I tossed wildly beneath the giant, pushing with everything I had.
My right leg came free. I planted that foot in Beard’s side and heaved.
Free.
Run.
Don’t look back.
Scrambling off the bed, I sprinted toward the door, howling for help.
Pain erupted in my scalp, and I dropped to my knees.
“Magic, huh? You’ll make me a rich man, you little bitch.”
I fumbled, my hand sweeping along the floor for the knife.
Beard pulled me up by my hair, and I shrieked, my scalp burning.
I swung, slashing out with the knife.
He howled, his hands clamping over his shoulder as blood sprayed. I stabbed at him again, and he dropped to his knees. I screamed wordlessly, driving my foot into his gut.
And then my room was full of furious males.
Lorian took one step inside and threw the giant across the room. Rythos stepped in front of me, blocking the scene from my vision.
“Give me the knife, darlin’。”
I stared up into Rythos’s face. His eyes blazed with fury, but his expression was calm. His hand was gentle on mine, and still, I flinched as he unwrapped my fingers from the wooden hilt.
He handed the knife to Galon and then wrapped an arm around me. Safe. I was safe. I’d begun to shiver, and he tightened his arm. “Don’t look over there. Come with me, Prisca.”
I allowed him to lead me to their room. A few of the men followed, but I was dimly aware of Galon staying with Lorian. Other guests were flooding into the hallway. One of the women caught sight of my shirt and the blood staining it. Her mouth fell open, and she let out a wild shriek.