Page 7

CHAPTER SIX

V alora was cold, furious, and miserable.

Her life had changed within a night, and just when she thought her nightmare would be over, she was handed off to a complete stranger who was meant to be her husband.

And then, after enduring an attack that had left her more shaken than she would like to admit, she had also had to endure the trip to said man’s castle, where she would know no one and where she would have no allies of her own.

And I havenae even said goodbye tae Althea…

The wind whipped at her face, pulling the strands of hair out of their updo.

By the end of the night, it would all be tangled up in a knot, she knew, and it would take several pairs of hands to undo the damage.

The chill of the air seeped right into her bones, her skin pebbling into goosebumps, her teeth chattering.

Even with her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, battling the cold seemed like an impossible task, the heavy wool only doing so much to keep her warm.

Behind her, Torrin was like a wall of heat, but one she tried her best to avoid.

She sat on the saddle with her back straight and stiff, her entire body leaning away from him as much as it could in a vain attempt to keep some distance between them, even as the small saddle and the motion of the horse continued to push them closer and closer together.

She had made it very clear that she didn’t want to touch him at all, and she wouldn’t be the one to break that barrier between them.

So why did she crave it so terribly? All she could think about was leaning into his chest, into his touch, in that warmth that emanated from him as though he was a bright flame.

Every time Torrin pulled on the reins, Valora could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach ripple under his clothes, hyperaware of every minuscule movement that he made.

It drove her crazy, that absolute awareness of him, this proximity that gave her no space to catch her breath, no reprieve.

I am going out of me mind…

As they rode in silence down the path that led to a place unknown to Valora, Torrin brought the horse off-course, down a smaller side path. Instantly, she froze, her heart hammering in her chest as she considered her options.

Is he tryin’ tae kill me? Is this where he’ll dae it? How can I escape?

As irrational as the thought was, it didn’t fail to unsettle Valora.

If Torrin wanted her dead, he could have simply killed her when they had left the castle, instead of going to all the trouble of bringing her to the middle of nowhere.

Besides, he had no good reason to kill her.

Whatever he wanted from her, she doubted it was her life.

Valora remained silent, keeping her eyes wide open as she took in her surroundings. It was even darker there, in that side path.

Soon, she realized where Torrin was taking them; a small stream, where the rushing waters echoed all around like a symphony. Though Valora couldn’t quite see the stream just yet, she could hear it, and the sound of it reminded her of home, of the creeks near the castle.

The creeks she would never see again. The place she had once called home was now as distant to her as the stars above, nothing but a memory that would only live in her mind.

"I’ll let the wee lass have some water an’ then we can be on our way again," Torrin said, and it took Valora a few seconds to understand he was talking about the horse.

He seemed to care a lot for the creature; not only did he consider its need to drink water, but he also rode slowly, taking into account the fact that the horse was carrying two people now instead of one.

A man who cares fer his horse should be a man who holds kindness in his heart, right?

Valora was not yet reassured about him, but at least the fact that he was taking care of his mare gave her some peace of mind.

When they reached the stream, Valora and Torrin dismounted the horse.

The place was dark, the light of the moon barely reaching the ground through the tree branches, but the waters of the creek shone brightly like a burnished shield.

The ground was soft under Valora’s feet, the earth soaked in water, and she took great care as she walked to ensure she wouldn’t slip.

For a few moments, she waited by the creek, watching Torrin’s mare as she drank from the cold, glittering waters.

Then, she realized she wouldn’t get another moment like this until they reached the castle, and even there, she doubted she would get much privacy.

The leather cord was still wrapped around her waist, and Torrin still held onto the other end of it, but there was enough slack for Valora to walk behind a line of thick bushes and have a few moments of perceived privacy, even as she was still under Torrin’s control.

Raising her arms to the side to keep her balance, Valora walked slowly over the muddy ground, careful not to slip. In the end, though, it wasn’t the ground that she had to fear, but rather the traps that lay upon it, waiting for an unsuspecting victim.

Only instead of catching a small rabbit, the trap caught Valora’s foot, making her yelp—not so much in pain, but in surprise.

The trap she stepped in was half-sprung, closing around her ankle with enough force to be stuck there, but not enough to injure her.

In her fright, though, Valora slipped and fell, landing directly into a patch of mud that splattered all over her upon impact.

Her face was covered in the cool dirt, the mud clinging to her skin and making her grimace in disgust. Her dress was ruined, the hem torn where it was caught between the iron, the fabric soiled and stained beyond repair.

Even in the dark, she could tell there was no hope for it, and she lamented its loss for about a moment, before she decided she had more pressing issues with which she had to deal.

The trap was tight around her leg, so much so that it didn’t budge when she grabbed each side and tried to push them apart.

The iron was rusty, creaky, stubborn in its stillness.

Even as she braced herself and tried to kick the damned contraption off, she managed to do nothing more than tire herself out, grunting and cursing loudly, forgetting she was not alone.

A rustling in the bushes alerted her to Torrin’s presence.

Momentarily, she halted her efforts and looked up at him from where she sat on her little patch of mud, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

Torrin stood there, his hands on his hips as he stared at her, clearly trying to conceal his amusement and the smile that twitched on his lips.

"All right?" Torrin asked, his teasing tone drawing an exasperated sigh from Valora.

"I dinnae ken," she said, gesturing to the trap around her leg. "Daes it look like I’m alright?"

Torrin gave a small shrug. "It looks like ye’re still alive."

She glared up at him, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him.

Torrin raised his hands as if in surrender, saying nothing more. The two of them simply stared at each other in silence for a while, until Valora couldn’t take it anymore.

"As displeased as I am tae ask…" she begun. "Will ye help me out o’ this?"

Torrin shrugged, sauntering over to her as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He crouched down next to Valora and gripped the trap tightly, forcing it open and letting her draw her leg back, but the entire time, he didn’t speak a single word—or make a single noise.

Valora found she preferred him like this.

"Thank ye" she said quietly as she pushed herself to her feet, only to find that even though there was no blood and the trap hadn’t cut into her skin, her leg still hurt too much for her to put her weight on it.

For a brief, terrifying moment, she was certain she would collapse to the ground once more, right back in that mud puddle, but then she managed to steady herself, putting all her weight on the other foot.

She didn’t want to ask for Torrin’s help again, nor did she want to give him the satisfaction of thinking of her as a damsel in distress.

Instead of complaining, she shuffled around and limped her way back to the horse, which was thankfully only a few steps away.

The entire time, she could feel his gaze on her like a physical touch, like a strange sensation travelling down her spine.

Only when she reached the horse did she realize her plan to act independently was flawed.

Valora considered her next movements carefully; she had to jump on the saddle, but she couldn’t use her left leg.

She could try mounting the horse from the other side, but that had never felt natural to her—and the last thing she wanted was to fall off and make a fool of herself in front of Torrin once more.

An’ potentially get hurt, but embarrassment is so much worse.

Torrin followed close behind and then watched her as she weighed her options. True to his promise, he didn’t speak; he only watched her in amusement, waiting for the moment she would ask for his assistance.

But Valora was determined to get on the horse on her own, no matter what it took.

I can dae this. I dinnae need his help. I dinnae need anyone’s help.

Grabbing the saddle, she made a valiant effort to pull herself up while standing on her bad leg.

Pain shot through her as she put more force on it, dull but unbearable, and yet she persevered.

Her body, though, was not as strong as her mind, and before she knew it, her leg gave out completely under her, making her tumble backwards with a frightened cry.

Instantly, before she could reach the ground, a pair of strong arms grabbed her and steadied her, holding her up though she had all but asked to be left alone.

And Valora, despite herself, was thankful for it.

"Let me help ye," Torrin said, exasperation tinting his voice.