Page 2

Chapter Two

Roan

I was going to be sick. I stood in the rain on the threshold of her hut and considered what kind of omen vomiting on her stoop would be.

Likely, not a good one.

Gods’ piss , what I wouldn’t give to have this done and over with.

I gathered myself and knocked, then promptly forgot my courage and regretted my boldness.

Should I run for the woods? A quick glance told me there was a chance I could make it before the door opened and my bride of ten years found me fleeing like prey among the trees.

But it wouldn’t do. I held fast and prayed to Toke I wouldn’t lose my bread on my boots at first sight of her. And it seemed the god was watching out for me because no one came or made a sound on the other side.

I cracked the door open and had a peek.

“Anyone here?”

When no reply came, I heaved a breath and made my way in, dropping my wet gear off to the side before swinging the door shut.

My eyes landed on the bolt just above the handle, and I hesitated.

I almost didn’t recognize it for what it was.

Ten years living out of tents, and anything more than a flap felt like a luxury.

But a bolt? Hell, I could lock myself in.

Get some space for myself, some distance between me and the people who wanted to manage my every task.

I was tempted, but only for one brief moment of weakness. Then I bolstered myself and set my mind to bigger things. More than anything, I wanted to do right by my clan. Besides, I’d only be keeping out her . Fenli. The thought brought me shame. This was all hers, not mine. Her bolt, her hut.

I turned, taking down my hood and shaking out my cloak. My eyes adjusted to the dark gloom, and I took the space in.

I’d never seen such a mess.

It was the smallest hut I’d crossed on my trek out, but it felt large when compared to my tent.

In the back corner was a small fireplace, and while the fire had died down, the coals were still hot and glowing orange.

There was a single chair in front of it draped in a sheepskin.

Beside it, a small table sat heaped with junk.

A larger table in the middle of the floor held even more—ink pots, parchment, and large strips of birch bark.

Strange. Gobs of crates crowded the back wall, and various items cluttered the floor.

Clothes, a discarded pair of shoes, an upside-down basket, a crumpled rug.

The only thing left was the bed that stood pushed against the wall.

I tried not to stare at it, but that was a lot to ask of someone who couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t slept on the ground.

My sleeping roll was enough for me—or so I’d thought—but looking at her thick wool pad, on its raised frame and swathed in blankets, I found myself suddenly forming new opinions.

Damn, it looked nice.

But it was hers . Her door, her bolt, her hut, her bed .

My cheeks warmed as I turned to the corner beside me, the only open space with room enough for my roll and belongings, and I tried to forget the rest. This bit would be mine.

My corner. I had no need for the rest of it.

A hut was more than I required. If I could have gotten away with pitching a tent out by the cliffs, I would have.

Hell, I’d have slept under the stars. But neither of those things would fix the mess I found myself in.

I didn’t think Toke himself could save me from it now.

I had to put it from my mind lest I barf on the only bit of floor I had.

Resigning myself, I moved on to the task of unpacking.

My pad was unrolled in moments, my spare clothes folded and stacked neatly at the foot, followed by my mending supplies, hand knife, and whetstone.

I’d just stood and pulled my larger hunting knife from its sheath when someone threw open the door.

She came in like a squall.

“No,” she was saying. “No, no, no, no. Not now, not ever.”

And she didn’t even bother to close the door.

The mangiest looking dog I’d ever seen darted in behind her, but neither saw me where I was in the corner.

Her hands went to her head, fingers twining between strands of short, dark waves, and I knew without a doubt it was her.

It didn’t matter that her back was to me and I had yet to see her face.

No one else would dare have hair like that in this clan.

I was vaguely aware of the dog jumping onto the bed and laying itself down on the blankets, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Wrapped around her forearms were her marriage ribbons, the same blue and green threads set to swirling as those I wore.

Ten years with these bands on my arms, and only now was I seeing their match.

It was unsettling, proof that this was real and happening when, so many times over the last decade, my union had felt more story or myth.

Toke help me, I was not prepared. I needed another ten years, at least. I’d not even had the chance to lay eyes on a woman for all this time, and now I had to share a hut with one?

I laid eyes on her now, and I couldn’t seem to tear them away.

She was small, with narrow shoulders and a loose-fitting tunic the color of silt.

She wore no cloak, and she was soaked to the bone.

I’d expected skirts, but she was definitely in pants.

I followed the lines made by her hips and thighs and barely had enough sense left over to think, that’s not what pants look like on a man .

Wasn’t I a clever one?

Apparently not clever enough because she turned, looked right at me… and I couldn’t do a damn thing but stand there gawking like an idiot.

With our gazes locked, it was like all the ability went out of me.

The smallest gasp left her. Her dark eyes shined, a slant of light falling over her face, and I found I didn’t recognize her.

Had I expected to? The girl from my memories was just a swirl of dark hair.

I’d been a boy. We’d lived and grown and gone to bed and woken up a thousand times since then.

She was a stranger. And she looked at me like I was a stranger too. One she’d just discovered in her hut.

“I’m sorry,” I started, but whatever I was going to say after that was lost to what happened next.

The dog, who I’d had forgotten about, became a fury of barking. The bed hit the wall as the beast leaped to the floor and hurdled towards me.

Instinct made me raise the knife still in my hand.

“No! ”

Both were running, the dog scrambling for me, her scrambling for the dog, and she cut it off at an angle, colliding with the thing right at my feet. She wrapped her arms around its shoulders and dropped it to the planks, her body holding it down as it rioted like a hell-beast underneath her.

“ No ,” she said again, and the dog cut the racket, though its legs still thrashed.

Cheeks hot, I turned my blade away.

“That dog’s a menace,” I bit out.

They were Baer’s words, not mine, and I hated myself the moment I heard them.

Fenli looked up. This time, there was no surprise in her face. This time, she had hell in her eyes.

She rose and I took a step back, my heel hitting the wall.

The dog scrambled behind her, and it was clear to me which beast demanded my attention now.

Wet hair fell over half her face. At her full height, she still only reached my nose, but her shoulders squared and her jaw tensed, the one brow I could make out at a dark slant.

The whole look seemed to promise me I would regret all of my choices very soon.

I regretted them now.

Her finger jabbed me in the chest.

“Don’t,” she whispered, “touch my dog.”

I gathered myself. I was a man, after all… practically. This hut felt a hell of a lot more hers than mine, but it was also the only place in the whole godsdamned village where I was allowed to bunk.

Baer had made that clear.

I had to stick up for myself a bit. Claim this corner that currently harbored everything I’d ever had .

“Tell you dog not to touch me.”

For two beats of my heart, we only stared at each other. Then she turned away and scolded the animal. To my surprise, it listened, slinking back towards the bed to lie down on the rug with a humph . It looked at me, but its eyes kept flicking back to her.

I looked at her, too.

Fenli had fled from my corner, as far as the hut would allow, and was back with the fireplace.

I watched as she lifted the fire iron from its hook and stoked the coals.

The glow highlighted all her edges, lighting her with warmth, and I saw more than I wanted to.

The slight tremble in her hand, the grim line of her mouth, the worry in her brow.

I was an idiot. She didn’t want this any more than I did. By the looks of it, she wanted it even less.

I’d told myself it had been a help. The marriage had made Runehall’s clan stand down. They’d relented, and the little girl my father had told me I had to marry got to stay with her mother. I’d told myself that every time the uncertainty and dread rose up at the thought of her.

At least I’d helped her.

But she didn’t look like someone brimming with gratitude and thanks. Of course she wouldn’t be. I hadn’t expected her thanks and praise.

So what had I expected?

Politeness, I supposed. So much for that.

I was about to close the still-open door when she turned to face me, halting me in my tracks. She fixed her fire-eyes on mine and lifted her chin. One breath—like she was preparing her words—and I stood taller, ready to meet whatever she threw at me.

She spoke slowly .

“Get, out.”

All I could do was stare. After a long exhale, I crossed my arms. She stared right back, making no move to temper what she’d said.

I glanced at my things, then back at her.

Baer would be furious. He’d chew me up and down.

I wouldn’t hear the end of his ire if I left this hut and tried bunking somewhere else.

But Fenli—she looked like she might just rip out my throat.

Finally, I uncrossed my arms and got to work rolling up my bed.

I’d have to take my chances with my father.

This one scared me more.