Page 90 of Ashborne Forged

‘I can’t, Koa.’

‘I will burn the horses—’

‘No! Please, Koa… just… let me think.’

Breckon knocked the base of his fist on the ceiling of the carriage three times, and it lurched, then swayed, then lurched again. And then the wheels began to rattle, louder and louder, faster and faster, as the horses picked up speed.

Each time Koa screamed overhead, their pace picked up another notch.

Breckon sat back on one of the two bench seats in the carriage that each spanned its width and faced the center and each other. This carriage was spacious, so there was room between. Which was a good thing, because he’d thrown me inside, with no way to catch myself. I lay on the floor, on damp carpet, curled on my side, my hands still secured at the hollow of my back.

Tears prickled the backs of my eyes, and my throat, but I wouldn’t give in. I panted. My hip and shoulder hurt where I’d hit the ground twice now. And my shoulder was especially sore from being wrenched more than once when he dragged me around.

I took a moment to pause and assess, as Voski had trained me, examining my body, testing joints and places that pained, to figure out if anything was broken, or would limit me.

But I never took my eyes off Breckon. He sat back in the plush seat, sweat on his brow, catching his breath as he peered out the window and scanned the moving countryside. I wondered if he was aware that he repeatedly combed his hand through his hair from left to right, over and over, to smooth down the hair he’d grown and combed over to cover his bald pate?

I might have laughed, but then his eyes snapped from the window, down to me, and his expression turned icy cold.

He nudged my knee with his booted toe. “I’ve half a mind to leave you down there for the entire trip, after that performance.”

“Performance?” I said bitterly. “That was no performance.”

Screaming as he dragged me from the room, clawing, punching, doing everything in my power to go back, to get to Voski, who lay, pale and lifeless on the floor—

“You should be grateful. I saved your life.”

I frowned at him, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking how he’d come to that conclusion.

“The king’s orders were to find you,” he said smugly. “Then either kill you, or take you. The choice was mine.”

“Your generosity is humbling,” I said through my teeth.

He smiled. “Bonds feeling a little tight?” he asked cruelly.

My heart, which was already racing from all the struggling, and the pain, began to beat even faster. The bond.

‘Koa?’

‘I follow!’

‘Where’s Kham?’

‘Kham—he stays! He must. Voski needs healing.’

My breath stopped. Voski had been hurt?

“That was no thief who came for you in the city,” Breckon said with a self-satisfied smile. “He was an assassin, tasked with locating you. Then notifying me, so I could choose whether to let you live, or not. Instead your sneaky mate killed him. Fucker.”

“I don’t believe you. The king has no reason to want me dead,” I said flatly.

Breckon didn’t tip his chin, but his eyes dropped to meet mine, then narrowed. “Nothing but a child making castles in the sand. Cease your games, or be overwhelmed by the waves.”

“I’m not playing games—”

“We can leave the bullshit now, Grace. I know how sneaky you are. Your father didn’t hide that from me—and while I appreciate the chance to hunt, believe me—this is not the hunt I had in mind.”

My lungs crackled, my mind flickering between images of a hunt with Voski, that made my heart thrill, and the cold chill of running through a forest pursued by this man and his cruel smile.