“Is there a… sanctuary village around here?” I ask, remembering a rumor Char had briefly mentioned.
“A what now?” He gets to the horse and turns toward me, beckoning me forward.
“I—nevermind.” Of course it doesn’t exist. Char already told me that.
Reluctantly, I follow him, ditching the safety of my boulder. Once I reach him, he offers me a broad smile. He grips me by the waist with two massive hands.
I scream, thrashing against his hold. But he simply lifts me up with ease and plants me on the horse. My heart pounds in my chest.
He ignores my outburst and says, “You’re running from something—or someone.”
Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I nod. “Something like that.”
“I recognize that marking.” He gestures toward his own face, referring to my Tradeling tattoo. “Must be a scary something you’re running from, if you thought you’d be safer here.”
“Others have come?” I ask breathlessly. “With this mark?”
“Yup.”
“Where are they now?”
“Dead,” he says, matter-of-factly.
My heart drops at that, but I try not to let his words affect me. I grip my skirt, glancing down at the tattered thing.
“Your friend ripped my dress,” I mumble lamely.
He scratches his neck. “It wasn’t—we weren’t—” he pauses and taps his foot, as if he’s contemplating an explanation. “The trees had a hold of you and we were trying to cut you loose. Some of the thorny vines were stuck in your dress, and we had to rip it free. We weren’t trying to tear it off.”
“Then why did he run away?”
Ken’s mouth turns up. “The thorn pricked you good. He figured you were going to die and left me to take care of you.” My brows rise at how brash the truth is. “Plus you were bleeding and he didn’t want to…get soiled. Blood has a tendency to stain, you know. He is not partial to it.”
“Trust me, I know,” I mutter. “Good thing he doesn’t menstruate.”
The shifter throws his head back and laughs. “You’re a funny little thing.”
I frown. There’s not anything funny about menstruation, but I’m also not about to dissect that with a male shifter.
“You ever ridden a horse before?” he asks.
“No.”
My fling with Felix has offered me basic knowledge about horses and riding, despite never having actually been on a horse before.
“Come on.”
He waves a hand around, instructing me where to place my hands and feet. I don’t know if it’s fear or excitement, but my stomach flutters at being atop such a majestic being.
“Wow,” I say in awe.
“She’s a beaut, eh?”
He holds onto the reins, showing me where to place my hands on the pommel, and giving me basic instructions.
I squeeze my thighs tight against the horse, and immediately realize it’s a mistake.
“Whoa!” I yell, as Merry lurches.