Page 26 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Freezing, almost frozen water was a blessing after four days of relentless riding, sleepless nights, and no clean water. The trio had found a stream tucked into a small alcove at the edge of Burwood shortly after they started out from another cave that morning.

Kayson had given her a you smell horrendous look before nudging her toward the water. Thankfully, this was the cleanest source they’d found so far. Snowmelt from the trees and distant mountain peaks had gathered in a shallow dip in the land, forming a narrow stream—small, but clear enough to use.

Arenna scowled at the memory as she tilted her head back, letting the water cascade through her black hair. She finger-combed the knots, scrubbed out matted blood, and pulled out twigs and sticks tangled in her waves. Her skin felt lighter, the dirt having acted like a second layer.

After drinking as much as her belly could withstand without heaving it back up, she undressed and submerged herself entirely in the stream, needing to wash away every bit of recent events.

She likely stayed in too long; her bones ached and her movements were slow, but she could not find it in herself to get out.

There was nothing a good soak couldn’t fix.

Unfortunately, the serenity of her surroundings didn’t last long.

Water rippled and splashed as a body entered the stream, and she peeled her eyes open at precisely the wrong moment.

Kayson stood naked in the stream, its water line barely covering everything lower than his navel.

Arenna cursed and whipped her head to the side, closing her eyes to make sure she didn’t see . . . that .

“Shy, are we, Serpent Queen?”

“I have no desire to see your genitals this morning, Emissary ,” Arenna spat. “And don’t call me that.”

She felt him move closer in the water, close enough that the heat of his body began to settle into her own. “Would you prefer the evening, then?”

“Get away from me,” Arenna said, annoyed. “You couldn’t wait until I got out before getting in?”

“I do not care about your feelings, Serpent. Therefore, I didn’t care enough to wait.”

Arenna whirled in his direction, suddenly hot with rage even in the freezing water. “What is your problem?”

“I find you aggravating,” he admitted, running his hands through his soaking hair, water dripping from the ends.

This was terribly distracting . “I’ve done nothing to you,” she hissed. “So, please, enlighten me. How is it that from the opening banquet, you’ve harbored such animosity toward me?”

“You might not have known of me, Arenna Steele, but I knew exactly who you were.” Kayson’s gaze was intimidating and violating, as if he saw right through her to the depths of her soul.

“I owe you no explanation for my actions.” A cocky grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, his eyes traveling downward, grin widening.

Arenna followed his gaze, horrifyingly aware that she, too, was completely undressed, and the water didn’t cover her either. She spun back around, slapping her arms across her chest, her cheeks warm and undoubtedly burning red. “Get out,” she grumbled.

“Gladly,” Kayson said, his voice heating the space between them. “Enjoy your soak.” He chuckled as he left the water.

Against her better judgment, Arenna turned. She watched as he climbed from the rocky shore and wrapped a thin piece of fabric around his waist. His normally wavy hair curled at the ends, just brushing his neck.

Swirls of pale flesh covered his arms. Jagged, thick, white bands started at his shoulders and coiled to his wrists. Scars .

Arenna shuddered, unable to comprehend what could cause that. She rubbed at her wrists, tempted to touch the one across her face. She knew all too well what it felt like to be branded and live with it afterward.

Kayson’s chin dipped in her direction, not enough for her to see his face clearly, but just enough to let her know he was aware she was watching.

Embarrassed all over again, Arenna turned her back to him, refusing to risk another glance even after she heard his footsteps fading into the distance.

* * *

Camp was quiet tonight. Koltin had left earlier in the day to backtrack, wanting to ensure the area was clear and no one was following—whether ferals, creatures, or Brookworth soldiers.

Leaving Arenna completely alone with Kayson.

Arenna had argued against splitting up, but neither man was willing to delay the journey to Smeeds.

Being alone with the emissary was a terrible idea—not just because they clearly disliked each other, but also because his loyalties were uncertain.

He was the Emissary of Forx, loyal to Kingdom Brookworth and its king, yet he had helped commit treason and aided her escape.

Though she needed and appreciated the help, he couldn’t be trusted.

Arenna was confident she could defend herself in certain situations, but not against Kayson. He was a warrior; she, a prisoner. She had survived by sheer luck against the vorgrith and ferals, and doubted the Seven Sisters would bless her a third time.

He sat against the trunk of a tree, one leg propped up, the other stretched out. His head tilted back, eyes gazing at the open night sky through a gap in the treetops. A campfire crackled between them, popping and sending sparks in every direction. They had eaten, bathed, and packed.

Now, they simply waited for the moon to rise before traveling again.

For some reason, Kayson preferred traveling at night, unlike Koltin, who insisted on moving only during the day.

Though Arenna loved the star-filled sky and the way the snowy forest floor shimmered in the moonlight, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was always lurking in the shadows, waiting for her to lower her guard.

“It’s time to go,” Kayson demanded. “We’ve stalled long enough, and I want to make it to Smeeds with my head still on my shoulders.

” He stood and turned to retrieve his mount but then stopped.

“You forgot this yesterday. Thought you might want it back.” He pulled a blade from the pocket of his riding pants, holding it out toward her.

Arenna stared at the blade, clear of any rotten blood. “You cleaned it,” she whispered. It felt heavy. Unearthly. She wondered how long this feeling of dread would linger.

“Did you think I’d carry a bloody dagger in my pocket and ruin my clothes?”

“Of course not,” she scowled. “I’m just surprised you’re capable of doing something for someone other than yourself.” Arenna turned, running her thumb across the gold pommel of her blade. How could so many painful memories be tied to such a small piece of steel?

“You’re going to have to get over that feral,” Kayson grumbled. “It happened. You can’t change it. The best you can do is move on.”

She replied over her shoulder, “You might have no issue spilling blood, but I do.”

“Ferals aren’t considered humans,” Kayson countered. “You killed a creature, not a person.” She felt his presence looming closer behind her. “I wouldn’t have thought death would make someone like you so uncomfortable.”

What is that supposed to mean? “Taking someone’s life should disturb any sane person.” Even if they were Rot-made. That feral had once been human, and maybe that was the part she couldn’t shake.

Kayson’s eyes darkened, his full lips pulling into a thin line.

Arenna’s stomach knotted. She knew that look; she had seen it on Jaksen’s face for years. It wasn’t hatred or anger—it was something deeper, something that clawed at him from the inside out.

“I would think the Queen of Brookworth would be responsible for enough deaths that it starts to feel normal,” he sneered. His grip on his horse’s reins was so tight she thought they might snap.

Anger flushed her cheeks. “Other than that feral, I have never taken a life.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he scoffed.

Rolling her eyes, Arenna shoved the last of her belongings into her pack. “I don’t care what you believe, and I certainly don’t owe you any explanation.” She fumed, padding toward the black horse. She tossed her pack onto its back and secured it to the saddle.

“You may not have wielded the sword that kills, Serpent,” he spat the nickname as though it burned his tongue, “but your command ended lives all the same.”

“Complain to someone who cares, Kayson.” Whatever deaths he thought she was responsible for must have been Jaksen’s doing, and this conversation wasn’t worth the energy.

Suddenly, a strong force yanked her backward.

She stumbled, dragged by the force until her back hit a tree.

Kayson loomed over her, fingers digging into her biceps, pinning her in place.

His chest pressed against her with each ragged breath, and anger burned in his golden eyes.

“I’ve worked too hard and too long to get what I want, and helping you reach Vlazias was a very unpleasant detour in my plans.

There’s little stopping me from dragging my blade across your throat,” he growled. “Do not provoke me.”

Arenna stilled under his touch. There it was— the truth . She had been right all along. Kayson wanted her dead—more than that, he wanted to be the one to kill her. Being alone with him was dangerous. “I—”

“I’m not finished,” Kayson interrupted.

Arenna bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood. She was furious with herself for letting Kayson pin her, furious with him for putting his hands on her, furious for allowing him to silence her.

But above all, she was terrified.

No matter how much she tried to convince herself she was brave—ready to face the world after clawing her way out of Jaksen’s grasp—she was still that scared, vulnerable woman who had been abused for years.

Memories blurred with reality, Kayson’s face shifting in and out of focus, replaced by Jaksen’s.

She had been in this position too many times before, trapped beneath her husband’s anger.

The same fury in the king’s eyes was now in the emissary’s, and that fury had always turned into violence against her.

Whether it was his hands, his feet, or even his body—Jaksen tormented her with that rage.

Arenna wanted to be brave. She wanted to fight back. But she was shutting down, her fear forcing her to submit. Her body was conditioned to cower under Jaksen’s touch, and now she couldn’t separate the castle from the forest, or the emissary from the king.

They were all the same.

Her emerald eyes slid shut, tears burning behind her eyelids. She braced for the blow, for the pain—her body tensing from muscle memory. It took everything not to crumble at Kayson’s feet, not to give in to the wobble in her knees.

The pressure around her biceps suddenly vanished. Her skin felt cold in its absence, and she willed her eyes to open. Kayson had stepped back, his gaze sweeping over her face, lingering on the tremble in her hands.

Embarrassment clawed at her throat, but the fear outweighed everything else.

“Let’s—let’s get going,” Kayson said, turning toward the horse and climbing into the saddle. Arenna was thankful he didn’t push the subject or ask what was wrong. She didn’t need any more reasons to feel pathetic.

She took a moment to catch her breath before stepping toward the horse, silently commanding her legs to stop trembling.

I will be brave. I will not let Jaksen control me anymore.

Arenna moved to climb behind Kayson, but his hand suddenly gripped her wrist, stopping her. She yanked it back, scowling at his unwanted touch—especially on her wrists. “Touch me again, and I won’t hesitate to burn your hands off.”

His eyes flared. Arenna hoped he couldn’t tell how unlikely it was she would follow through with such a threat. Shoving her foot into the stirrup, she attempted to pull herself up again.

Kayson blocked her with his hand. “You sit in front of me,” he ordered.

“No, thank you.”

His voice sharpened. “I wasn’t asking.”

“And I said, no thank you,” Arenna snapped.

“I just admitted to wanting to cut your throat.” Kayson laughed. “I’ll be Sisters-damned if you think I’m letting you sit behind me with a knife in your pocket.”

Arenna huffed. “Exactly why I won’t be sitting in front of you, where my throat is easily on display.” She shoved his gloved hand aside. “You may be used to ordering women around, but unfortunately for you, I’m done letting men tell me what to do.”

Kayson rolled his shoulders. “Duly noted, Serpent.”

“ Stop calling me that.” Her skin prickled at the nickname, shivers running down her spine every time he uttered it. It was a horrible title, one she was no longer affiliated with.

She wanted to just be Arenna.

“You may be used to ordering men around, but unfortunately for you, I’m done letting women tell me what to do,” he mocked, gripping the collar of her jacket and hoisting her into the saddle, right between his thighs.

Arenna coughed against the fabric tightening on her throat, shoving her elbow hard into his ribs behind her.

Kayson wheezed.

This is going to be a long few hours .