What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(31)

Brann wiped his dagger on the man’s coat, studying me quickly and stepping forward. He fought with the clasp at the back of the collar, yanking it free from under the curtain of my hair. I heaved a sigh of relief as soon as it was gone, drawing my first full breath since my shackling.

“It’s almost a shame,” I said, quirking my brow at the dying Mist Guard as something dark and hateful consumed me. That darkness within me made me bitter, taking joy in the sight of the man who would have killed me drowning in his own blood. “I do so like a man who can fight.”





11





There was blood on me, yet again. I was quickly becoming far too accustomed to the red stains on my skin, and the monster in me wasn’t as horrified by it as I would have thought. I’d felt guilty when I’d killed Loris, wanting nothing more than to stop the magic that took control and ended his life. I’d even felt bad for killing the commander.

But with this Mist Guard in the woods, I felt only pride in my brother for ending him before he could end me. He’d shackled me with the iron collar like a dog, and, according to his own words, rendered me unable to defend myself.

I trudged through the woods as the sun began to disappear over the horizon, the natural night coming without magical interference. It was less all-encompassing than the false night we’d spent stumbling around in the dark, the hint of stars in the sky now lighting our way.

My feet throbbed as the blisters on my heels where my boots dug into the flesh bled into the wool socks that made my feet soak with sweat. I’d been dressed for winter, but the weather couldn’t seem to decide what to do with the Fae magic. The air had the fresh scent of spring; the plants revived with vibrancy all around us, despite the frost we’d feared would come too quickly only a day before.

Hunger and thirst cramped my belly, making it impossible to think about continuing on for another day without food or water. The berries we’d snuck off the bushes in the woods as we passed them could only last so long, and I touched a hand to my grumbling torso as if the pressure of the contact could will it away.

“Look,” Brann said, pointing to a light up ahead. Through the gaps between the trees, I could just make out the glow of torch lights.

The brief rays of hope were quickly extinguished by the reality that being around people would likely be impossible for me. We had no money to purchase food or drink, and nothing of value we could sell.

Anyone who got a good look at me would try to dispose of me, and there was a brief, blinking wonder inside me at the thought. Would I hear the male who’d claimed me roar his rage before I died? Or would that only come when I was already gone from this world and wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway?

“We need food,” Brann said, taking my hand and tugging me to the edge of the woods. We watched as torch lights dimmed and then winked out, people settling into their homes for the night. I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t want to be outside either, when the Wild Hunt rode in the darkness.

“Wait here,” he said, giving me a pointed look as he moved into the small village. Nobody noticed him with the streets empty, at least not that I saw until he ducked out of sight. A few long moments passed with me waiting, considering continuing on into the woods and leaving him behind. He would be far better off for it, and I’d already endangered his life more than once.

But he was right; we needed food and water, and the unfortunate reality was, if anyone saw my neck, I’d be doomed. I couldn’t move through villages the way he could without drawing attention to myself.

He touched a finger to his lips when he stepped back into view, waving a hand for me to follow. I hauled my filthy cloak up over my head, keeping the Mark that I had yet to see hidden, and stepped into the clearing in the woods.

Hurrying quickly, in spite of the pain climbing up my legs with every step, we made our way around the edge of the village. Brann led me to an empty barn tucked away at the back of the clearing, hauling the door open a crack that was just wide enough for us to slip through.

A single horse stood in a stall to the left, chewing his hay loudly, but the rest seemed to be empty. “We passed a little pub a few buildings down. I’ll see if I can get us food in exchange for doing some work in the morning.”

“We can’t be here in the morning,” I protested. “If they see me—”

“Nobody will need to see you. You’ll be tucked inside the woods by the time the sun rises.” He nodded at me one last time and slipped back out the door without another word.

I spun in the space, twiddling my fingers as I looked around and tried to decide what to do. It felt wrong not to be moving, as if my body knew if it wanted to keep breathing, it needed to keep walking.

Ignoring what my body knew, I sank down on a pile of straw at the side of the barn aisle, easing the weight off my feet with a groan of satisfaction. They throbbed, swollen inside my boots, but I didn’t dare take them off, in case I needed to make a quick getaway.

Dropping my head back, I stared up at the rafters supporting the ceiling. The straw beneath me was warm, almost too warm, given the cloak wrapped around my shoulders. But it was all that concealed the Fae Mark.

“I’m really trying very hard not to frighten you,” a deep, amused voice said, and I froze solid in fear. “You’ve made that quite difficult staring at the ceiling.”