*Ella*
Ryatt goes totally still.
“I’ve never–I’ve never done this–”
He pulls away, and I feel like someone has just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I snap my legs shut, a furious blush crashing over my skin like a tidal wave. Even my hair stands on end as a deep, cutting embarrassment shreds me apart.
I look at him only once. His eyes are dark now, his expression made of cold stone.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, and his eyes snap to mine.
“Don’t be. This was my fault. I lost control.”
“No, it was mine–”
The door in the front of the cottage opens and several male voices drift our way. I suck in a surprised breath, but Ryatt has already turned and left the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him before anyone can see me in my state of undress.
My heart is thundering in my chest as I quickly cover my thin nightgown with a robe and head to the door, but I stop, my hand curling around the knob, when Ryatt’s voice lifts above the rest of the muffled conversation in the next room.
“She’s still asleep,” he says, referring to me.
I’m definitely not asleep. I’ll unlikely be able to sleep ever again after what just happened. I place a hand over my racing heart and lean my ear against the door to better hear the conversation.
“Alpha Magnus isn’t too keen on allowing Princess Amanda to travel with us, all things considered,” Thorne says.
“I offered to have sixty of our warriors brought down from Veiled Valley, which sweetened the deal. He’ll allow us to take her in exchange for the extra forces.” It’s Granger who speaks next, continuing, “At your command, I’ll put in the orders to our generals.”
“It must be done,” Ryatt says heavily, his voice dropping to something low and full of smoke. “Any and all of our allied packs will have warriors from the Veil stationed around their territories. Make that known before we leave this place for the Deadlands.”
A murmured agreement and shuffling footsteps is all I hear as I continue to press my ear to the door.
But I’m not quick enough to move out of the way in time to stop the door from hitting me in the face when Ryatt bursts back into the room.
I press my hands to my nose, tears blurring my vision. “Ow!”
“We’re you eavesdropping?” Ryatt asks, slight amusement in his tone as he shuts my assailant–the door–closed behind him. He drops a stack of clothing on the bed, ignoring my plight. “Get dressed, we’re leaving within the hour.”
“What is the Veiled Valley?”
“Nothing that concerns you right now.”
So, we’re going back to this bitter cold back and forth. I sniff, my nose still throbbing as I gently prod my cheekbones. Ryatt glances at me, then sighs heavily and turns to face me fully. He takes my chin between his fingers and turns my face from side to side, then presses a finger to the bridge of my nose.
“Ow! Stop it!” I cry out, swatting him.
He smirks and steps away, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not broken, but you might end up with two black eyes.”
I blink back tears and look down at the clothes laid out on the bed. Thick pants made of something that resembles denim but in a rich tawny color that blends in with the trees and forest floor. A burnt orange colored sweater someone must have made by hand. A long leather jacket, worn in and lined with fleece. Black gloves, black hat, and a black matching scarf.
“Your boots are by the front door.”
I look up at him then, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you still here? Are you wanting me to change in front of you?”
His eyes mimic my own, narrowing into cat-like slits. The slate gray of his eyes darkens into a deeper, depthless gray that sends a fresh shiver of heat licking down my spine. If I kissed him again, would we continue what we were doing before?
My cheeks go pink at the thought of his rough, calloused hands grazing up my thighs again. I imagine him reaching between my thighs and what kind of sound he’d make when he realizes how wet I was for him–and how wet I am now.
Ryatt makes a noise deep in his throat and chokes, “Ella…”
I hadn’t even realized my eyes were closed. I look up at him, my blush deepening and burning across my cheeks and chest now. Ryatt looks at me with so much heat and desire in his eyes that my knees go weak. He can sense my need for him, can’t he? Has my scent changed, or is it simply his ability to feel my strongest emotions through our mate bond?
“I–I need to get dressed,” I stammer and take a step away from him before I do something I’m sure to regret. The air in the room is thick with tension, so thick I can barely catch my breath.
Ryatt keeps his eyes on me for another moment before turning and leaving the room.
I nearly collapse in what feels like a mix of regret and relief. My head throbs as I quickly get dressed. I braid my hair and wind it into a bun at the nape of my neck, using a strip of leather to hold it in place, the same way Ryatt does.
His hair just reaches his shoulders, but he always has it pulled back. Now, as I dress, my trembling fingers slipping over buttons and laces, I wonder what it would have felt like to run my fingers through his hair.
It’s just the bond, I tell myself.
I continue to tell myself that several hours later as we’re walking through the dense woods, flanked by wolves. I’m not allowed to shift, and neither is Amanda. Instead, we walk near the sled carrying Hannah, who is piled with furs and blankets against the bitingly cold weather.
Even with my hat and gloves, I’m absolutely freezing.
We’ve been walking for hours at a slow and steady pace. This isn’t the way Amanda took us the first time. In fact, Amanda is incredibly nervous right now. I’ve never seen her so pale before.
I glance behind me at Ryatt, who is in his absolutely menacing wolf force several yards behind the rest of the group, his gray eyes a sharp silver against his jet-black fur. He’s watching everything closely. Picking up every sound. He’s following behind to make sure we’re not snuck up on.
“This is rogue territory,” Amanda whispers after a moment, swallowing hard. “Not the good kind, the really, really bad kind.”
“Is that what's been wrong with you this whole time?”
She cuts me a glare but nods. “I wouldn’t have gone this way, but it’s faster.”
“I appreciate you not taking this route the first time,” I whisper, a chill running up my spine. “What’s the difference between a soulless rogue and a hellhound? I don’t think we have hellhounds where I’m from, but we have rogues.” Ours aren’t soulless, though. They just don’t swear allegiance to an Alpha or the king.
“I don’t know which is worse. Rogues are entirely on their own, most of the time. If they’re hungry and desperate enough, they’ll hunt in packs, I’ve heard. Hellhounds are… different.” She swallows again, like she has a horrible taste in her mouth and can’t clear it. “They’re… people. Shifters, like us but… Turned…”
She glances around, her eyes narrowing at Thorne, who is still in his human form and walking a few feet away from us behind the sled. He blushes a bit and looks forward again.
“Anyway,” she sighs, adjusting the blue velvet hood of her cape over her head, “hellhounds are often people cursed into the forms of animals–beasts. Wolves, bears, mountain lions… whatever the witch that cursed them feels is best. They are controlled by the witches, like an extension of their magic. And over time, they lose all sense of who they used to be before, turning… rancid. I don’t know how else to describe them, but they’re awful.”
I nod, glancing ahead at the sled. Gemma nearly lost her leg, and not surprisingly, refused to come with us this time. I don’t blame her.
“Ryatt said he’s the king of the witches as well. They’re in his territory.”
“I don’t think that matters to the witches,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sled dragging over crispy, frost colored dead leaves. “They hate most men. I thought… I thought we had a shot because we’re women. They take in female shifters in their covens on occasion. But for some reason, they saw Gemma, Hannah, and the rest of the group as enemies.”
“If they can’t help Hannah, I don’t know what else I’m going to do. Ryatt can’t send her back in her condition.” I doubt he could send her back at all at this point. Whenever I bring it up, he steers away from the topic.
I remember Mom talking about battles where she spent her powers and became weak. Could that happen to someone as powerful as Ryatt?
I look behind me over my shoulder and notice he’s gone.
Adrenaline shoots through my fingertips, making them tingle. No one else seems to sense a problem, but his sudden absence makes my stomach curl in on itself.
Amanda, sensing my sudden despair, wraps her arm around mine and holds my hand as we continue to walk. “We’re all right,” she whispers.
But she doesn’t seem so sure.
* * *
We make camp in a clearing surrounded by stones that rise out of the ground twenty to thirty feet above our heads. The scouts, some of Ryatt’s men in their wolf forms, sit atop the rocks, which likely gives them an incredible vantage point compared to the shadowed, damp valley between them.
The warming fire Amanda and I made for ourselves barely does more than spray wet, heavy smoke in our eyes. Still, I’m cold enough that I’m beyond caring about much of anything right now.
Granger walks over to our fire and crouches in front of us. “Alpha Ryatt would like a word with you,” he says to me.
“He can come over and talk to me himself,” I retort dryly. In reality, I have a feeling I’m frozen to the ground. All I can think about is shifting. It’s like being covered in a built in blanket, and I find it incredibly unfair that I’ve been forbidden to do so.
Granger licks his lips and then sighs, pointing through the dark woods. The sky above us is cloaked in starlight, millions of points of light, sparkling clearer than I’ve ever seen them. “It wasn’t a question.”
“Fine,” I bite out and rise to my feet.
I follow the direction Granger pointed and walk until I’m totally overwhelmed by the woods. “Ryatt?” I say, a little shakily.
Something moves nearby. Twigs snap, and a bush rattles as something big lumbers across the forest floor.
I hitch my breath and whirl back to camp, but then Ryatt’s hand is on my shoulder. “It’s just me.”
“You scared the hell out of me!” I hiss, turning to face him and shoving him hard in the chest. He doesn’t move, of course. The starlight glints off that incredible gem-encrusted sword he wears down his back. His face is shadowed by his hood as he looks down at me, only his mouth and jaw visible.
“You’re freezing.”
“Oh, now you care?” I snort, stepping out of his reach. “You forbid me from shifting–”
My words are cut short. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me back to him, his mouth crashing into mine.