Fear of Fire and Shadow (The Fade #1) - Samantha Young Page 0,72
me completely, Rogan.”
Ignoring the flush of excited heat that moved through me at his hoarse tone and serious expression, I gripped the handle of the bedroom door behind me and guffawed. “We’ll see, Captain. We’ll see.”
I slammed the door in his face, huffing at the sound of his cocky chuckle.
For a moment, all I could do was stare at myself in the mirror, touching a mouth that now tingled with the taste of Wolfe. I closed my eyes, hating that thrum in my body that never used to be there before he first kissed me.
I wasn’t even sorry for kissing him. I was thankful that our last moment together—before Wolfe truly did come to dislike me—was sweet, in that dysfunctional way of ours.
Completely discombobulated by him, or rather my muddled feelings for him, I scrambled about, ringing the bell for a servant and gathering some coins. Grateful when a young girl in rough servants’ clothing appeared, I explained what I needed and showed her the money. She stared at the coins in wonder. There was more money there than she probably earned in two years of hard work.
“Well?” I asked, my heart stuck in my throat.
For an answer, she scooped up the coins and pocketed them, grinning broadly. “I’ll help ye, my lady,” she replied in the soft burr of the Alvernians.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I went over again what I needed, and then waited for her return. She wasn’t long in reappearing, a few bundles in hand. In one was a pack with food supplies and a canteen of water. In the other was boy’s clothing, stolen from one of the stable boys. Hurriedly, the girl helped me into the trousers; they hugged my figure in a way that would make me blush if Wolfe ever saw me in them. I then pulled on the overlarge shirt, waistcoat, and warm overcoat to see me through the bitterly cold nights in the mountains. The boots she brought belonged to her—they were worn and soft, but still foreign to me, and I hoped my feet would cope in them.
Lastly, I pinned my long, thick locks in a bun and hid the hair under the woolen cap she brought. Hopefully, in the dim light, if I kept my head low, I could pass for a boy. If I removed the overcoat, no one would ever believe it. I just had to make sure I never removed it. Lastly, I stuffed the dagger Matai had given me into the pack.
I thanked the servant profusely, and then we hurried through the darkened house and out to the front gates where she had a horse ready and waiting.
Once mounted, I gave the house one last look. Wolfe was going to be furious. But I was counting on him not to be foolish enough to follow me into the mountains without the Guard. He knew my magic wouldn’t get me lost, but he didn’t know the way.
I sighed. I had to put all my trust in Lieutenant Chaeron. He wouldn’t let Wolfe leave without him.
Chapter 22
Fear wasn’t new to me.
I’d first encountered the feeling, with its jaw of sharp teeth and painful clawed grip, when Syracen killed my parents and I ran through the fields with my brother. For years, that fear never really went away. And it had shown up in little spurts these last few weeks, perhaps not as toothy as the first time, maybe not as adept at holding me down, but it had been there, taunting me.
Now it was back.
I was blind, galloping out of the city walls and down into the valley beyond Arrana. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the night, and with my heart already racing at the thought of getting caught, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t upchuck all over my poor horse. But I held strong, my hands biting into the reins, as I widened my eyes, desperate for them to acclimate to the darkness. By the time I put Arrana at a fifteen-minute gallop behind me, I could see more than just shapes and shadows ahead.
I drew the horse to a stop, sorry that I didn’t know his name so I could soothe him better. I could feel his muscles tighten beneath me as he attuned to my tension.
The land before us dropped into a steep valley that stretched for miles, the mountains peaking over it in the distance.