A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(12)
Gods damn it! I pound both hands on the ground and howl.
“Up,” Beta Sinta orders.
I twist and lash out at him with my feet. He jumps to avoid my sweeping kick, and fury erupts in me. I’m fast and well trained, but he’s always a step ahead. Part of me is awed by his speed and agility. Most of me wants to grab Kato’s mace and thump Beta Sinta over the head with it. Repeatedly.
He fooled me at the fair, this man with the quick smile and midnight hair. I thought the warlord was just another warlord. I flushed at his interest and jumped into his dance of teasing threats. I had fun. Now, looking at him reminds me of something much stronger than fleeting attraction. There’s nothing in this world or the Underworld I hate more than royals.
“I’d rather let Cerberus slobber me to death with poisonous drool than go anywhere with you.”
His jaw muscles flexing, Beta Sinta pulls on the rope until I’m forced to either scramble to my feet or get dragged to his. “Come and I won’t have your friends arrested one by one while you watch.”
I feel myself pale. There’s no lie in his words. He’s not bluffing.
So this is it, exactly what Mother was trying to teach me, to pound and torture into me. Love is weakness, an exploitable flaw.
My surroundings fade, and I feel her sharp-nailed fingers digging into my chin as she turns my face and forces me to watch my older brother gut my nursemaid, the only woman who ever held me. Mother beat me when I cried, gave me a puppy the next day, and then ten months later, just when I loved that dog more than anything except for my sister, started the lesson all over again.
I blink, and Beta Sinta’s handsome, treacherous face comes back into focus.
Poseidon, protect me. I pick up my satchel, swing it over my shoulder, and don’t look back.
CHAPTER 4
Home. Gone.
Friends. Gone.
Captured by a ruthless Hoi Polloi warrior who’s going to use me to keep the kingdom he stole.
Can life get any worse?
Let me think… I’m tied to the warlord atop his huge horse, I stink, and my skintight pants are driving me insane.
We ride through the night, the enchanted rope keeping me from jumping off the horse. By dawn, I’m sore and exhausted, my whole body limp with fatigue. My nose still hurts, and my bottom half, which hasn’t been in contact with a horse in years, is aching fiercely, but I keep yawning, and my eyelids feel like someone’s hung marble statues from them. Rage and anxiety usually keep me nice and alert. Right now, they can’t even keep me awake. I slump against the warlord’s back as the sun rises on our right, my last conscious thought that I hope my caked-on cosmetics leave a grimy face print on his clean, white shirt.
I only wake up because someone is fiddling with the rope. Cracking open an eye, I see lean, tall Carver retying it so that Beta Sinta and I are not only strapped together at the waist but under the armpits as well. I didn’t even feel Beta Sinta untie the rope to begin with and scowl at the lost opportunity. I could have turned invisible and bolted from the horse.
Carver pulls the knot tight, tugging me hard against his brother’s back. “You sleep like the dead. Kato and Flynn are already betting on when you’ll fall off.”
I give him the evil eye, and Carver chuckles, flashing that easy smile. Does he think this is funny?
By noon, the sun is high and hot, beating down on my dark hair and crimson-clad back. My leather pants are officially one of the worst things in my life right now, and that’s saying a lot. I still manage to go back to sleep. I haven’t slept like this in years, maybe in my entire life. I may be strapped to a man I hate, but he would probably do a lot to keep me alive. He might even be good at it. Ironically, I feel almost safe.
I’m going to escape. After I sleep.
The afternoon heat is unbearable enough to wake me up for good and make me want to claw off my skin. Beta Sinta is throwing off more than his fair share of heat as well, and all I can think about is dumping buckets of icy water over us both. I keep sane by thinking about the north, the cold, the fiery glow of sunshine through a curtain of ice, and the soft chill of snowflakes frosting my skin, but all that does is fill the hollowness inside me with an even deeper ache. Longing for things I can’t have is useless, just like wishing for freedom and a life no one wants to steal out from under me.
Stifling a sigh, I blink against the dry summer brightness and look around. Dust, dust, and more dust. Fabulous.
My stomach wakes up with a low rumble. “Don’t you people eat?”
“We ate. You slept through it.”
Beta Sinta’s deep voice vibrates through my rib cage, and I wiggle back as far as the rope will allow.
“I have to get down.”
He glances over his shoulder at me. “Now?”
“I have to… You know…”
There’s a slight pause. Of course he knows.
“There are woods and a stream up ahead. We’ll stop there.”
I squint and can barely make out the greenery on the horizon. It’s miles away. What does he think I’m made of? “I have to pee now.”
Wordlessly, he reins in his mount, loosening the rope to give me about four feet to work with.
I slide to the ground and land on wobbly legs, bracing myself against the horse’s steaming flank. I glare up at him. “You have to get down. Or untie the rope.”