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His breastplate filled my vision, the matte black obscuring the Rift behind him. He was so tall, I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze. Once again, I was in awe of his beauty. Bright, golden eyes regarded me. He was golden all over, from his thick, wavy hair to the strong column of his throat. Blond stubble covered his jaw. His eyelashes were several shades darker than his hair and long enough to make any woman jealous. The ladies of Lidia’s court would drool over this male. But if the rumors were true, he wouldn’t notice.

His gaze dipped to my mouth…and lingered.

Confusion flitted through me.

Somewhere at my back, a horse whinnied. Varick’s head snapped up, and something like anger flashed through his eyes. It was the first real emotion I’d seen from him.

“Come,” he said gruffly, taking my arm. “I’ve had enough standing around on this fucking bridge.” He hustled me forward, his boots ringing out on the wooden planks. We moved so quickly, I had to grope at my skirts so I wouldn’t trip. Now that the veil of the Deepnight had been lifted, I saw the knights of Nor Doru in all their glory. There were at least fifty of them. Crimson cloaks streamed from their shoulders. Their black armor reflected the glow of the muted sun. The human thralls clustered off to one side of the Pass, their eyes wide.

All watched the general of the vampire army manhandle me across the bridge like a piece of meat.

“I don’t need your help,” I said, jerking away from him.

In another quick movement, he yanked me to a halt. His hand flashed out, and I expected to feel it wrap around my throat. Instead, he snapped the ribbon of my cloak and then flung the garment away, exposing my hair and gown.

“You—” Fury burned hot and bright. “How dare you?”

“Don’t conceal your charms, halfling.” His golden gaze flicked to my hands. “Lose the gloves, too. Thralls don’t cover their pretty wrists.”

My fist flew.

He caught it lightning fast. His other hand gripped my jaw, and his voice dropped to a silky growl that made my hair stand on end. “That won’t happen again.”

My heart pounded so fast I felt lightheaded. Menace rolled off him in waves. He was violence held in check, and I knew in that moment I never wanted to see him loosed and unrestrained.

His fingers on my jaw squeezed, slowly forcing my mouth open. “Look at that,” he murmured, “you’ve bared your little fangs.”

With shock, I realized he was right. My gums throbbed. I hadn’t lost control like this in years. Shame twisted through me, along with other ugly emotions. Humiliation at being exposed. Anger at being ridiculed. Terror as the true vulnerability of my new position sank in.

He held me that way for a moment, prolonging my embarrassment in front of his knights and the human thralls. Then he leaned in and spoke close to my ear. “Careful, Princess. The monsters on this side of the Rift have a much deeper bite.”

Chapter Four

VARICK

The princess jerked away from me with an angry gasp. But only because I let her. She knew it, too, and it made the anger in her deep blue eyes flare higher.

Interesting.

She was frightened. Of that there could be no doubt. But she was also enraged. And if I wasn’t mistaken, her rage eclipsed her fear. With her flashing eyes and those dainty fangs itching to tear at my flesh, she was something of a surprise.

I’d expected beauty and vapidity. In my experience, the two almost always went together.

Given of Sithistra had the former in spades. That, at least, wasn’t a surprise. Vessa of Lar Satha had so beguiled the old human king, he’d pissed off his queen and risked his throne for the privilege of fucking Vessa whenever he pleased. Lar Satha was a shitty little estate in the middle of nowhere, but Vessa had been called “the jewel of Nor Doru.” The princess was supposedly the spitting image of her.

But I had to wonder where Given’s fire came from. Not from her human side, surely. Rolund had about as much passion as a fencepost. His halfling sister may very well prove to be vapid, but she wasn’t meek. If I had to guess, her brother had sent her north to spy.

Which begged the question I’d been asking myself since this morning, when I learned I was to fetch Given of Sithistra from the Rift: Just what the fuck are you thinking, Laurent?

There was only one way to find out.

Anger rose in my chest, but I shoved it down. With the Rift before me and the Thicket at my side, I needed a cool head. And I wouldn’t feel totally at ease until we’d left Rolund and his knights behind.

“Lar Katerin is an hour’s journey from here,” I told Given. “You’ll ride with me.”

She lifted her chin. “I’d like my own mount.”

I went to my horse and accepted the reins from my squire. I mounted and flung my cloak out of the way, then nudged the beast forward. The giant war horse walked slowly toward the princess.