I immediately obeyed, my eyes still watering in grief. “I… I didn’t betray you—”
“Did I say you could speak?”
Now I realized just how well he used to treat me. He’d never been this callous, even when I rejected his advances or told him no when he expected to hear yes.
“You ran off into a blizzard with no chance of survival.” His voice rose slowly, climbing like a spark growing into a flame. “You could have broken through ice and felt your heart stop from shock before you even had a chance to drown. You could have been attacked by wolves, your flesh ripped off your face piece by piece. You could have fallen into a crevasse of snow and suffocated. You could have done any of these things—and I wouldn’t have been able to save you. That’s betrayal.”
I breathed hard as I stared, not expecting that to be the reason for his wrath.
His eyes narrowed. “You would rather die out there than be with me?”
I shook my head. “I…I didn’t want my sister to be alone. I didn’t want her to die alone—”
“So, you wanted to die with her?” he snapped, his voice growing louder.
“Do…do you have a brother?”
His eyes narrowed in a way they never had before. “Yes.”
“Then wouldn’t you rather die with him…than leave him to die alone?”
He processed that question for a long time. A really long time. With his unblinking gaze, he stared at me endlessly, like he could read the words written across my eyes, found something new to look at as the seconds passed.
He rose from the chair. “We leave in the morning.” He left the chair where it was and moved to the door.
I started to sob again, knowing Raven was out there, dead.
He opened the door then turned back to me. “Your sister will live.”
I gave an involuntary gasp, and new tears flushed my eyes. “Thank you…thank you so much—”
“Thank Magnus. If it were up to me, she would have hung.” He shut the door, locked it, and left. He didn’t make a fire for me like he usually would. He let me sit in the cold and the dark…like I deserved it.
Once I knew my sister was okay, the tremors and tears stopped. I took a hot shower to thaw my fingers, to get the dirt out of my hair that had been transferred from the snow. My clothes were dropped on the floor, and I slept in my bed naked. I didn’t even need a fire because the inside of the cabin was still considerably warmer than the blizzard outside. The wind made the windows rattle, waking me sometimes because it was like a witch shrieking right next to my ear.
By morning, it was over.
Silence.
I sat up in bed, the sunlight coming through the windows because it was a clear day now that the snow clouds were gone. Last night felt like a bad dream, a cold nightmare. My lips were still dry because the moisture had been sucked out of my skin by a sponge made of ice. I barely moved my legs and felt my muscles resist because they were sore.
The lock turned in the door.
I tugged the sheets to my chest even though it was just Fender, and there was no reason to worry about modesty with him.
But it was a guard with my breakfast.
When he realized I was naked in bed, he stilled, like he shouldn’t be there. He didn’t even bring the tray to the bed like usual. He left it on the armchair by the front door and hurried out. “Boss said be ready in thirty minutes.”
Dressed in my work attire, I sat at the edge of the bed next to my empty tray.
Several pairs of boots thudded against the wood. The door was unlocked and opened. The two men there took their usual posts on either side of my door.
And then Fender made his entrance.
Dressed in all black, his eyes matching, he stared me down. His muscular arms hung by his sides, the veins visible on the backs of his hands and along his neck. The rest of him was covered.
His anger hadn’t faded after a good night of sleep.
He actually seemed angrier.
Wordlessly, he turned around to depart, expecting me to follow him.
“Fender.” I approached the front door and looked outside, the sunlight making my eyes squint and water.
He pivoted slightly toward me but didn’t completely turn around. He could only see me in his