Page 4 of Bought By the Revenant (Monsters’ Bride Market #1)

Chapter Four

Riven

I stand frozen, unable to believe what I just heard. The word echoes in my mind.

Sold.

The midwife – Amity – chose me. After countless rejections today, after years of solitude, someone has actually chosen me. The shock leaves me unable to speak.

She runs toward me, her steps urgent and quick.

As she gets closer, she looks back over her shoulder.

I follow where she’s looking and see three men pushing through the crowd from the direction of the stage.

They move with purpose, their eyes locked on Amity.

The leader walks fast, his eyes shining with unrestrained obsession.

Behind him, a large man limps along, favoring one leg but keeping pace.

A tall man walks beside them, his face blank and his stare fixed straight ahead without blinking.

Amity reaches me and immediately moves behind me. Her fear radiates from her whole body. I feel her fingers grab the fabric of my cloak and hold tight.

“Please,” she whispers, so quietly I almost miss it.

I understand now. She didn’t choose me because she wanted me. She chose protection from these men and whatever they want from her. Still, it’s more than anyone has offered me in centuries.

The three men stop a few feet away. The leader’s eyes narrow as he looks at my face, now fully on display with my hood fallen back.

His hand moves to rest on a knife hanging from his belt.

I draw myself to my full height, using my body to block their path.

The movement pulls at the stitches along my spine, a discomfort I’ve gotten used to.

Every time I move, I feel the threads that hold me together.

It’s an issue I fixed for the revenants that came after me, but that I could never fix for myself.

“Step aside, creature,” the man says. “That woman belongs to Draug.”

“I don’t know who Draug is,” I say, my voice low and even, “but she belongs to herself, and has chosen to come with me.”

He spits into the dirt. “Unnatural abomination,” he mutters, but I see him calculating as he looks me over, measuring whether to fight or retreat. After a long, tense moment, he signals to his companions. They back away and disappear into the crowd.

Amity’s hand still clutches my cloak, her body trembling against my back.

“Can we leave?” she whispers. “Now?”

“I need to pay the auctioneer first,” I explain, trying to keep my voice gentle despite its natural rasp.

We find the purple-vested man who ran the auction.

His surprise shows clearly on his face as his eyes dart between Amity and me, trying to understand what just happened.

I hand over the sum without haggling – more gold than most humans see in a lifetime.

The auctioneer counts it quickly, then gives Amity her portion after taking his fee.

“Most brides send money to their families,” he says, eyeing her curiously.

“I have no family,” she says, pocketing the coins. “Can we go now? Please?”

Her urgency grows as she scans the crowd again.

I follow where she looks but see no sign of the three men.

Still, I understand her need to leave quickly.

I lead her to my carriage, and she pauses before climbing in, weighing whether getting into a confined space with me is worse than staying where those men might find her.

Once inside, she moves to the farthest corner and looks out the window.

I take my seat opposite her, making sure to keep as much distance between us as the carriage allows.

The carriage lurches forward, and we begin our journey away from Crosshold.

The silence stretches, heavy with all the questions neither of us asks. I should speak, but what does one say to a woman who has chosen a monster over her own kind because she had no other option?

“I am Riven,” I finally offer. “And you are Amity. It’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you,” she responds, her attention still fixed outside the window.

“Those men,” I venture, “they’re from your village?”

Her shoulders tense. “From my past. It’s over now.” Her tone tells me she doesn’t want to discuss it further.

I nod, respecting her privacy while noting how she continues watching for danger. She’s still trembling, though I can’t tell if it’s from fear, cold, or exhaustion. I remove my cloak slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle her.

“You’re cold,” I say, offering it to her.

I make sure our hands don’t touch when she takes it. Surprise crosses her face, but she accepts the cloak and wraps it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

I notice her fingernails are painted blue, a small detail that doesn’t match her otherwise practical appearance.

I wonder if it’s a cultural custom from her homeland or simply a personal preference.

It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone new in my life.

Everything about her fascinates me. The silence returns, though it feels less uncomfortable than before.

I should explain what being my bride will mean, what she can expect from our arrangement.

“I want you to know,” I begin carefully, “that you will have your own rooms at my estate. You’re free to move about as you wish. I won’t... I don’t expect...” The words stick in my throat. “You need not fear unwanted attention from me.”

Relief washes over her face, and it stings, but I hide it.

Of course she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

Does that mean I regret buying her? No. I’ve just met her, and all I know about her is her name and her profession, and that she’s beautiful, and strong, and fearless, and if I can, I will save her over and over and protect her from everything that’s evil in the world.

“What will you expect of me, then?” she asks.

“Company, perhaps. Conversation.” I admit this with some difficulty. “I have lived alone for a very long time.”

There’s curiosity in her gaze as she studies me. I think I feel myself blushing. Is this even possible? I don’t think I’ve ever blushed in my impossibly long life. Her eyes move to the book on medicinal herbs I purchased at the market, now resting on the seat beside me.

“You’re interested in herbal medicine?”

“I find the subject fascinating,” I reply, seizing the opportunity for real conversation. “The natural world contains so many remedies we’ve barely begun to understand.”

“I was taught by my mother,” she offers. “She knew how to use plants for healing that others thought were just weeds.”

“I have extensive gardens at my estate,” I tell her. “Though they’ve fallen into disrepair recently. You’re welcome to collect or grow whatever you wish there.”

For a moment, genuine interest lights her eyes before caution returns. Still, it’s progress, the first hint that our arrangement might evolve beyond just protection. We have something in common, and I’ll cling to it.

The carriage slows, then stops with a hard lurch.

Amity tenses, her hand disappearing under the folds of my cloak to reach for something in the bag at her waist. We wait in silence.

I hear her breathing speed up, becoming shallow and fast in the small space.

I lift my fist and bang it against the ceiling, the sound echoing through the wooden frame.

“Olaf! What’s happening?”

“Blocked road, sir,” comes the muffled reply from above. “Large tree down across the path. Can’t get around it.”

Amity and I look at each other. I see her mind working, assessing this new potential threat.

“Wait here,” I tell her, noting how her fingers tighten around whatever she’s hiding beneath the cloak. “I’ll see what’s happened.”

She nods once, her movement stiff. As I turn to exit, I see her shift her hand further behind her back and wonder what weapon she carries.

Outside, I find a massive tree has indeed fallen across the road.

Two other carriages with human travelers are waiting, not knowing what to do.

As I approach, the humans back away, their faces changing from annoyance to horror when they see me.

I ignore them and study the tree – huge and heavy, but I can move it.

Without saying a word, I position myself at the trunk and grip it firmly.

The stitches in my arms pull and stretch as I lift.

The wood groans and creaks as I heave it aside, clearing the path with a single strenuous effort.

Despite helping them, the humans remain terrified.

They hurry back to their carriages without even offering thanks.

Their reactions stopped hurting centuries ago, or so I keep telling myself.

Returning to our carriage, I see Amity watching from the window. Her expression shows lingering fear, but also something new, maybe understanding or even sympathy. She quickly looks away as I enter.

“The road is clear now,” I say. As we continue our journey, I point out landmarks to ease the tension between us. “We’re entering Luminea now, revenant territory. We’re less than an hour from my home at the edge of Aura Glade.”

“Are there many... like you here?” she asks hesitantly.

“Revenants, yes. Like me, no.” The bitterness creeps into my voice despite my efforts to keep it out. “I am... unique among my kind.”

We fall silent again, but Amity seems more relaxed now that we’ve crossed into Luminea.

She even leans forward slightly when I mention the natural hot springs and crystal formations that make the region famous.

Finally, my estate comes into view – an enormous mansion built from dark stone, with tall windows reaching up three stories, surrounded by gardens that were once perfectly maintained.

I watch Amity’s face anxiously as she takes in the full scale of the place.

Her eyes widen as she sees the sprawling grounds, the ornate entrance with its carved doors, and glimpses of the glass conservatory shining in the distance.

The carriage rolls through gardens that now show neglect in places, areas I once cared for myself but have abandoned in recent years.

Three figures wait at the entrance – Nell, Tomas, and Fria. They stand at attention, their faces carefully neutral as the carriage stops before them.

Amity looks up at the imposing structure that will now be her home. I see awe in her expression, but also uncertainty. What thoughts run through her mind? Does she wonder if she’s exchanged one prison for another? Does she regret her choice already?

I can offer her safety, comfort, wealth, everything except the one thing I most wish to give: beauty. But perhaps, given enough time, she might see past this terrible exterior to the soul inside that has longed for connection through endless, lonely centuries.

For now, I will be content that she is here at all, that she chose me, even if only as the lesser of two evils.