Page 100

“I want to come home,” I whisper.

There’s no uncertainty when I say it. Rhys nods as though there was never any other possible answer. I turn forward again and watch the trail wind between the trees as Étoile carries us farther down the mountain.

“You will not run from me again, Boone,” Rhys says behind me. “If you come back, there will be no life for you beyond the castle grounds.”

I tilt my head all the way back and lift my arm, curling it around his neck until I can pull him down enough to kiss him.

“Promise?”

I feel his lips curve against mine.

“Believe me, there will be no escaping me this time.”

I kiss him again, taking complete comfort in his promise—or threat, depending on how one looks at it.

“When we reach the village, it’ll be dark, and you are to follow my every lead.”

I hesitate. Following Rhys’s every command is something I’ve spent most of my time with him deliberately refusing to do, but his arm tightens around me before I can argue.

“If you don’t, Boone, I will leave you here.”

I nod instantly.

The last thing I want is to lose sight of him once we reach the village, especially when Lucien and the men who took my father could be anywhere. If there is one person in this world capable of taking Lucien on without fearing his money, his influence, or the people willing to do whatever he tells them, it’s Rhys.

“Every command I give you,” he prompts.

“Every command,” I repeat.

Satisfied, he returns his attention to the narrow strip of overgrown earth winding between the trees and adjusts the reins, pulling me more securely against his chest. “Close your eyes. Try to sleep.”

I am exhausted enough that I should be able to fall asleep immediately. I’m mentally drained, terribly frightened, and worried sick over my father. Despite the steady rhythm of Étoile’s gait and the warmth of Rhys surrounding me, I can’t let myself drift off. He’s behind me, his body solid against my back and his arms enclosing me. I know Lucien can’t touch me again because Rhys is here now, but none of that is enough to quiet my mind.

Every snap of a branch or unexpected movement in the woods has me gripping Rhys’s forearms. I hold on hard enough to reassure myself that he’s still there, that I’m not alone and that I didn’t somehow imagine finding my way back to him. Eventually, he reaches down and calmly pries my fingers loose before I can dig them any deeper into his arm.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, taking my hand and lowering it into my lap.

I do, but only because he’s telling me to.

My head falls back against his shoulder, and I concentrate on the steady movement of Étoile carrying us down the mountain. Rhys’s arm stays firm around my waist, his chest warm against my back, and exhaustion finally begins to win.

Somewhere along the trail, I fall asleep.

The next thing I know, we’ve arrived in the village.

37

Rhys

“That’s the building where they’d keep my father. The magistrate’s hall. There are cells underneath for holding prisoners.”

I study the building from behind the thicket where we’ve been crouched for the better part of ten minutes, taking in the stone foundation, the tall windows on the first floor, and the smaller ones above. Most of them are dark now that night has settled over the village. Lanterns burn on either side of the main entrance, illuminating the broad steps and enough of the street to make approaching from the front without being noticed difficult, especially with Boone beside me.

There are two men stationed near the entrance, neither dressed like soldiers. Although both carry themselves with the particular boredom of men who have been told to stand somewhere and make certain no one gets past them. Another man appears periodically through one of the windows, crossing the same room and disappearing again. I watch him make the journey twice, unable to determine whether he is patrolling the interior or simply incapable of sitting still.

The building itself is old, which works in our favor. The magistrate’s hall was built long ago, and although the front has been renovated enough times to appear respectable, the rear wall tells a different story. Its stone has darkened with age and is partially obscured by several buildings constructed too close around it.

There will be another entrance.