Page 12 of A Curse So Vile

“How far until we get to the next town?” Brenna demanded.

“Too far,” Dorthea insisted. “It’s best we—”

“We’ll give up when I’m good and ready to,” Brenna snapped, urging Dusty into a light trot.

Cole exhaled, trying to recall his travels over the last year. He had come up this way before settling near Bloodmoor, but Duskland towns were rarely memorable.

Greenlee would be the first proper town they’d come to, followed by Fentler’s Run, the town with the hot, redheaded woman, but they’d likely not reach that far until nightfall. “Maybe two hours?”

“Two hours?” Brenna’s face contorted in pure rage. “We can’t afford to travel so slowly. Your sister could die.”

Keeping his rage at bay was no easy feat.

“Do you think that hadn’t occurred to me before now?” He had tried to remain calm, but fire poured through his veins. He’d been living this nightmare for almost three years now. He didn’t need this woman telling him the very likely end result when he was trying so desperately to cling to hope.

Brenna shrugged. “I guess we’re going to have to run this horse to the ground, then.”

He looked at her, wondering if she was either crazy or just optimistic. She seemed determined enough to show she still thought they had a chance, and despite the dire circumstance, it gave him hope.

I wonder what mother would think of her? She’d call her pretty, but too skinny, and entirely too fickle.An uncomfortable realization struck him: he was completely in awe of the Dusklander. She was strong, determined, and doing everything she could to get Fiona to her people. She wasn’t a con, and although their situation felt helpless, this was the Dusklands. A land full of sorceries and witchcraft. It’s very possible Brenna’s people could work miracles.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult time for us,” he shouted above the creaking of the wagon.

The corner of her mouth upturned into a smile, and she pulled on the reins. Somehow, bidding Dusty to hasten. Maybe if the old steed could keep it up a while longer, they had a chance of making it to the next town.

If that even mattered.

He wished he could speak with her. Learn more about Brenna. But they were in no place to talk, so he relied on what he saw.

Her physique spoke of discipline beyond what most could achieve, lean muscles giving way to graceful curves. What’s more, she didn’t have the gray hue that accompanied many Dusklanders. Instead, her skin was sun-kissed with a few scattered freckles he longed to connect with his fingers.

Don’t be so stupid. She’d never have you.

But he wasn’t so sure about that. What would she ask of him? Would being the servant to a beautiful, demanding woman who wanted nothing more than all of his attention be so bad?

Yes, that’s exactly what Brenna wants of you. A sex slave, because she obviously has trouble getting men to fuck her.

He chuckled, and when she looked over at him, he gave her a stupid look as if to say, “Don’t mind the idiot.”

Her gaze returned forward, and his mind went to the logistics of undressing her. First, he’d removed her vest, releasing her firm breasts. Then he pulled down her pants, giving him access to her well-rounded butt.

He had to stifle a groan as his cock throbbed painfully within the confines of his pants. If he could just pry his eyes from her, the ride would be considerably easier. But who could blame him for admiring the dramatic flare of her hips as she leaned forward?

While he knew he was being foolish, he was hopeless against the charms Brenna wielded so effortlessly. Her every movement had him imagining her in a new position, making demands of him. Extracting delights he was all too eager to offer.

Knowing he must, he forced his gaze to his sister and noticed Dorthea’s condemning eyes locked on him.

Surely she could not read his thoughts, not that it would surprise him.

The Gryndari woman had a way about her that set Cole ill at ease. Gryndari, often called Togglers in the Mainland, were known for their intelligence just as much as they were for their crazy inventions. It wouldn’t be surprising if she knew his wants even before he realized them himself.

Fiona shook, and a knot of guilt formed in Cole’s stomach. She was his responsibility, and this was his fault. She was a child of ten fighting for her life as he lusted for the woman driving their cart. It was as absurd as it was disgusting.

He settled back onto the bench, eyes forward. There was no room for passion in his life, not during this dire hour, and if Brenna succeeded in saving his sister, he would belong to her.

Chances were, she would not be a kind master, and as much as he enjoyed imagining otherwise, she was unlikely to be forthcoming with her passion.

5