A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(20)

He drags me closer, and my heart leaps wildly in response. Stupid, stupid heart.

“Breathe,” he murmurs.

My eyes widen, and I suck in a huge breath because it’s either that or pass out.

He chuckles. Bastard.

Scowling, I push off, getting nowhere because Beta Sinta doesn’t let go.

“You.” I must manage to look as scornful as I sound because he stiffens, finally releasing me. I drop, landing hard on my bare heels, the strangest chill rattling through me at our sudden separation.

His eyes go from blazing quicksilver to frosty granite. “Having fun?”

“Not anymore.”

“Cat…” Carver warns, dragging his tunic over his head.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re neither a guest nor a friend,” Beta Sinta grates out. “Speak respectfully.”

“If you don’t like my big mouth, then let me go!”

Beta Sinta’s eyes narrow on his brother before swinging back to me. His gaze is dark and unnervingly intense. A muscle pops in his jaw. I have no idea what he’s so mad about. I’m the one getting dragged around Sinta by a magic rope.

I bend down and jerk on my boots. “No? Then just kill me and get it over with.”

“I have no intention of killing you.”

My temper ignites. “You want to use me! You ripped me from my home because you think it’s your right. Beta Sinta can do anything he wants. Ruin anybody’s life he wants. Royals!” I spit. “You’re no different from the rest of them—Sintan, Tarvan, or Fisan.”

“It’s not like that,” Carver interjects. “You’ll have a good life.”

I turn a blistering look on him, only vaguely registering that I detect no lies in either of their words. “A good life? Living in fear? A captive? Waiting for someone to steal me? Torture me? Murder me?”

Beta Sinta’s eyes drop to the scars on my arms, comprehension flitting across his otherwise stony visage. “So that’s what happened to you.”

My chest erupts, a thousand moments of terror and pain suspending my heartbeat and stopping my breath. I reel back, the bitter tang of residual fear splashing in my throat.

“And at the circus?” he asks softly.

My eyes feel like they take up half my face. I swallow, but my mouth is so dry it hurts. “There, nobody knew.”

Most of the irritation vanishes from his expression. “You can relax, Cat. I’m not planning on flying a ‘Kingmaker’ banner from the castle gate.” His voice is level, reasonable, almost soothing. It makes me want to explode. Or vomit. Or both.

“It starts with four people,” I say hotly, waving my hand toward our camp. “And turns into four hundred!”

“It won’t.” He reaches out, gently closing his fingers over mine.

I’m so shocked by the intimate touch and the sheer warmth of his skin that it takes a moment to rip my hand away. I give it a sharp tug, and he lets go. “You don’t know that!”

Beta Sinta unties the rope from Carver and straps me back to him. I feel like a bloody dog. On a leash. With a Gods damn owner! Apparently, the argument is over. He even gets to decide that. Son of a Cyclops! It takes all my minimal self-control not to start kicking him in the shins.

“I’ve already heard from Kato and Flynn. Anything to add?” Beta Sinta is looking at the bruise on Carver’s neck. The others obviously told him about my nightmare. Did they also tell him how they surrounded me like a flock of oversized mother hens?

Carver grins, rubbing his neck. “She packs a mean punch.”

Beta Sinta doesn’t smile back. “Maybe you slept too close.”





CHAPTER 6


Beta Sinta points southeast—at least I think it’s southeast. “Six males. Tarvan. They’re definitely following us.”

“Tarvan?” Flynn scratches the auburn stubble on his jaw. “What could they want?”

Everyone looks at me.

I shake my head. “No way. I haven’t attracted attention in years.” No wonder my guard was so low when Beta Sinta showed up at the circus.

“Four to six.” Carver’s long fingers glide over the hilt of his sword, flexing. “We can handle those odds.”

“One’s a Giant,” Beta Sinta says darkly. “They must have brought him down from the north.”

Silence. Don’t you people know anything? “Giants are easy.” Sort of.

Four sets of eyes turn to me again, and I wonder why I opened my big mouth. We joke about Aetos being a Giant, but he’s really just a very large man. Real Giants are stupid and slow, but with such thick hides, they’re hard to cut through. Accomplished warriors have been pummeled to death simply because they couldn’t get their swords in deep enough.

“Aim for the eyes. If it can’t see, it falls to its knees, panicked. It’s a reflex. Then you have to get to its head. The vertebrae make good climbing holds, and Giants are…lumpy to begin with.” I grimace, remembering gristle, fat-pocked muscle, and tough, weathered skin. “Chop through the spine at the base of the skull, where the skin is thinnest, and so is the bone.”

Hope sparks in their eyes, and I sigh, disgusted with myself. “Flynn’s ax will do.”