Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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The busy market's rich food smells were delicious and its curiosities enchanting. Keeping up my fast pace, I strode past silk tents striped in contrasting colors. Canary-yellow stood next to kingfisher-blue, the one further along in robin-red. Their silk breathed with the humid air stirred by movement and the whirring fans subtly positioned about the marketplace.
As much as I wanted to drift between the stalls and purchase harlequin balls of yarn for Aunt Ellena, I was on a mission. The sleeve of my peacoat was soft beneath my fingers as I pulled it back to reveal my watch and check the time. A burst of relief settled my anxiety. I had exactly two hours before I needed to head home for the evening.
I'd rushed as fast as I could through the errands for Beckah and everyone else so I could have a little bit of me-time at the gardening center. The hectic day also served as a distraction because I'd still been wrapped up in Varen Crowther. I'd had my own freaking virginal-erotica experience last night, and as I'd driven along narrow country roads and long straight highways my traitorous mind kept replaying the orgasm-war over and over again, setting my heart to skitter and my skin to flush. I'd blasted streams of crisp air from the car's vents to cool my godsdamned lust-heated body.
Varen had taken me by surprise this morning when he'd walked into the clearing. Fear had chewed at my nerves as I contemplated whether he'd caught me out and discovered what I'd been up to—collecting kills and feeding the krekenns. But with his casual attitude, it seemed as if he'd innocently come across my tracks pressed into the wet earth.
When he'd looked away, glancing at the forest's understory dripping with rain, I'd greedily roamed his impressive physique. I imagined he'd run long and far. Miles and miles and miles before he'd even break a sweat. His rain-soaked hair flopped about, and as he lifted his forearm to push the wet locks from his eyes, his t-shirt had ridden up and I'd been gifted a sneaky peek at the hard lines of his abdominal muscles, contracting with his breath. The swirls of flamed tattoos dipped into a dusting of dark hair that arrowed right down freaking there. He was as gorgeous and downright sinful as the athletic male model spread across the center of a glossy sporting magazine I'd ogled while waiting for the shop assistant to produce Beckah's bundle of wedding books.
When Varen asked me to go out on a date I wasn't standing in a miserable forest drizzling with a misty rain that chilled my skin and bones. His hopeful question had flowed through me and warmed my soul, transporting me to another season where I stood beneath the dappled shadow of a tree laden with bright green leaves, the golden sun beating down at the height of summer.
Sharp-edged agony expanded through my chest when I thought back to how I'd hurt him when I'd declined his invite to a date. But there was nothing else I could do. I'd spoken the truth when I'd said I was too busy. I had less than two weeks before the forerunners of Cernesse would illuminate the night sky in a kaleidoscope of colors, and there was much to do before that moment.
The reedy melody floating from a stilt walker playing a Pan Flute snapped me from my thoughts on the heir to House Crowther and his crestfallen expression.
