Page 43

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

ARLON

I stare down at Tessa, my blood rushing in my ears. “You want me to leave?”

She drops her gaze to my chest and gives a small nod. “It’s for the best.”

Suspicion rises. I release her, step back, and lean against the wooden slats of the horse stall. “How do you figure that?”

“We-we’ll confuse them if we part ways,” she stammers. “I’ll follow the caravan, and you can turn south, like you told Mistress Maeve we would. They’ll be forced to choose who to follow.”

Ah.

“And you hope it’ll be me?” I test her.

“No!” Tessa throws her arms up, the twin bags—smelling of bread, cheese, and dried sausage—banging against the stall door. “It needs to be me. I’m the one who got us into this mess. You shouldn’t be paying for my mistakes.”

I can’t hold back a chuckle, and she glowers at me, fierce and determined. Still, I reach out and tug her into my embrace, resting my chin on top of her head.

“This isn’t funny, Arlon,” she complains, batting at my sides.

For once, I don’t let her go. “Are you worried about me, little thief?”

“Yes,” she cries against my chest. “That woman had knives . That’s not a joke!”

“Will you let me come with you if I promise not to get stabbed?” I take her shoulders and move her a step away so I can look her in the eyes. “Don’t you trust that I’m better equipped for battle than any human we might meet on the road?”

“I do, but we could get ambushed by many,” she protests, her hazel eyes wet with unshed tears. “You’re not impervious to arrows, are you? And besides, everything points to the caravan heading for the orc kingdom. You were worried about that, weren’t you?”

She’s perceptive, I can’t deny that.

“Do you think I’d ever let you go there alone?” I demand. “You don’t know what it was like. Don’t ask me to leave you, Tessa. You know I can’t do that.”

Her tears slip down her cheeks, and I brush my thumbs over them, wishing there was something I could say to make this easier for her.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she croaks, her voice breaking. “I’d never forgive myself.”

“Ah, love.” I cup her face in both hands and kiss her lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “And I’d never forgive myself if I left you.”

She kisses me back, her tongue brushing mine, then pulls away and wipes her cheeks with her sleeve. “Stubborn,” she grumbles, stuffing the food into her mare’s saddlebags. “I should’ve left you for the rats.”

I grin, press a kiss to her cheek, and head to the next stall, where Pip and Cricket wait patiently for me. “You couldn’t leave me,” I call over the stall wall. “You knew even then we were perfect together.”

She appears at the door, Clover clipping behind her. “I knew nothing of the sort. Next time you want to woo a woman, try talking to her first instead of chasing her halfway through town.”

“There won’t be another woman to woo,” I counter immediately, nudging Pip out of the stall. “Now get on your horse, Tessa. We’ve a cloak to buy and an apothecary to find.”

Her cheeks flush pink at the command—and the meaning behind it.

She doesn’t protest, just swings herself into the saddle with the help of a battered old stepping stool.

She winces as her ass hits the saddle, reminding me of the bet she’d tried to make with me.

When we stop for the night, I’ll woo her by soothing those sore muscles, just as she asked.

The thought of Tessa lying naked beneath me while I get to touch her all over makes my cock swell, and I curse myself for being a fool.

Yesterday taught me that riding with a fully hard cock is no joke, and we need to move faster today.

I grit my teeth and think of night watch duty in winter, which helps a little.

But then I catch another whiff of Tessa’s scent.

Resigned to the discomfort, I tie Cricket’s lead to the back of Pip’s saddle, nod to the groom, and head out of the inn’s courtyard.

Tessa follows, and we clop down the narrow lane toward the tailor’s shop.

We ride as fast as we dare, and when I catch the scent of herbs in the air, I turn Pip into a side street that leads us to a cottage surrounded by a garden.

In springtime, I imagine it must be stunning, with rose bushes now long out of bloom.

Tessa disappears inside at the invitation of an older woman who reminds me strongly of Taris, our healer at the Hill. She returns minutes later, clutching a pair of glass jars, her eyes glimmering with barely contained laughter.

“She told me I was very lucky,” she sniggers as I lift her back into the saddle. “Said she had an orc lover once and still thinks about it to this day.”

I snort and follow her back to the main road, riding slower now to avoid knocking over villagers. As we reach the green, a prickle at the back of my neck has me glancing around. People are setting up for the fair, merchants rushing to prepare their wares for the day. Maybe it’s nothing, but…

There . A man stands under the overhang of a small shop, watching us. His cap hides most of his face, but there’s no mistaking the way his gaze tracks our every move. I grit my teeth and face forward. When we round a corner, he follows, walking too quickly for someone on a mid-morning stroll.

I bring Pip closer to Tessa and murmur, “Don’t turn around, but we’re being followed. Act normal.”

Tessa’s shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t glance back. “What do you want to do? If he’s reporting to the Ravens, they’ll know we took the eastern road.”

“True.” I tighten my reins and bring Pip to a stop in front of the tailor’s shop. “That’s why we’ll head south.”

I expect a protest, but Tessa merely nods.

“All right. We should move, then. I don’t need a cloak that badly.”

But I’m already swinging down from my saddle. “You do. We’ll take all the time we need. If our shadow notices us panicking, he’ll know we’re on to him. Now, come, wife. I want to buy you some new clothes.”

She grimaces at me but allows me to lift her from the saddle. She slides down my front with a gasp, and I can’t resist kissing her quickly, hidden as we are by the horses’ bulky bodies. Then I tie the animals to the iron ring at the front of the shop and usher her inside.

We buy the nicest winter cloak the tailor, a slight, middle-aged man with stooped shoulders, has to offer, as well as a pair of riding gloves and a fur hat for Tessa that hides her auburn curls from view.

I grab a pair of thick wool blankets too, because nights will only get colder the longer we’re on the road.

“This is ridiculous,” she complains as we mount again. “No one else is wearing fur at the moment. I’ll stand out more wearing this.”

“You won’t once the road starts winding into those mountains,” I tell her, motioning toward the vague outlines of the hills beyond the village. “We’ll see snow much faster than you think.”

Tessa nudges her mare’s sides to get her walking. “Will you be in danger if we cross the border of the Stonefrost Clan’s kingdom?”

Bringing my horse into step with hers, I grit my teeth. I don’t want to lie to her. “Maybe. But we won’t know until we’re there, and we’re wasting daylight worrying about it now.” I send her a challenging look. “Now, let’s see how far we can ride today before lunch.”

We take the southern road out of the village.

It’s a maneuver that will cost us time, but it’s the only way to lay a false trail now that we’ve been spotted.

So we ride down the main road instead of hiding in the side alleys, and do nothing to conceal our faces.

If Mistress Maeve holds to her end of the bargain and tells our pursuers where we’ve gone, the good people around us will confirm her story.

Once we leave the last of the houses behind, we ride far enough from the village that we lose the man sent to spy on us. The weather has cleared in the time we spent visiting the shops, but the air remains cool, signaling that winter is on its way.

I lead us off the road in a wide arc, skirting the fields, now barren and ready for spring planting.

It’s slow going. The ground is soggy from the rain, and we can’t move our horses faster than a walk without risking slips and stumbles in the mud.

It takes us the better part of an hour to reach the road leading east, at a point where I’m confident we won’t be seen by any curious locals.

Now that we’re on firm ground again, we make good time, switching between walking and trotting to conserve our horses’ strength.

The road winds across the moors in a serpentine way.

I wish we could cut straight across the open terrain, but the ground around us is boggy, with dark pools of water glinting under the pale autumn sun.

We ride for a few hours, stop to let the horses rest, then mount again, eager to put as much distance as possible between us and the village. With every mile we pass, the nature around us changes, and we leave behind the marshy land, beginning the slow ascent toward the hills ahead.

Just after noon, hoofbeats in the distance announce an incoming party of riders. I curse, glancing around, and find a small cluster of trees not far from the road.

“Come on.”

I urge Pip into a canter, and Tessa follows, though her eyebrows draw down in a confused frown.

“What’s wrong?” she demands as she dismounts beside me.

I lead the horses deeper into the thicket, hoping the brambles will hide us from the road. There’s nothing to prevent a skilled tracker from following us if they inspect the soft ground by the roadside, but hopefully, they’ll have no cause to do so if they don’t see us hiding here.

“People coming up on the road,” I murmur. “I’d rather avoid them.”

She doesn’t complain. Her hazel eyes go wide with worry, and she strokes Clover’s nose, crooning softly to her. The horses aren’t bothered in the least. Pip finds a small patch of grass between two alder trees, and soon all three of them are grazing without a care in the world.