Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Fourteen

The sun slapped me in the face as I exited the hut, and I had to blink the spots away. The guards turned to glare, warnings shooting from their eyes like daggers.

"I'm going for a walk," I told them.

"I think it's best if you stay here," one of them hissed through blackened teeth.

"Oh, shut up," I said, walking on. I knew their orders were to stay put at the door.

I heard him laugh before I saw him. Bjorn. Standing in the light, all his fang-like teeth shining in his dark face.

"It's okay," he said to the guards, before turning his wolfish smile on me. "She's coming with me."

I pretended he hadn't just said that and kept walking in the direction I'd intended, my boots eating up the ground. He laughed as he hurried to catch up to my pace.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked me once we were out of earshot.

"Wherever the hell I like," I replied, cutting a path into the woodwork to circle around the row of huts that dotted the forest.

I was especially surprised to notice one of the other huts had guards standing at the door, like ours, and I wondered who else the savages were keeping trapped here. But then Bjorn stepped right in front of me, blocking my view.

"Stop messing around. You can't do as you please here."

"Why is that?"

He didn't appear the least bit fazed by my temper. "Because I'll kill your oaf of a husband."

"Go ahead," I threw at him, because I'd always laughed in the face of threats. No one had ever been able to hold anything against me and no one ever would.

But then I saw his face, and immediately knew I'd said the wrong thing.

He stopped dead in his tracks—I stopped too, secretly relieved because my ankles were killing me—and then we stood there glaring at each other.

"You're not even married to him, are you?"

His eyes bore into mine, but I didn't falter in the least. I couldn't afford to.

"I just don't believe a damn word you say."

It wasn't exactly true, but it was the right thing to say to cover up my mistake. He calmed down, although he appeared insulted.

"What should I do to make you believe me?" He made it sound like a threat.

I took a step forward. "Tell me why you're keeping us here."

He shook his head. "I decide what you need to know, and I decide where you go and what you do."

And with that, he launched his hand forward and slapped it around my wrist like a cuff. I tried planting my feet, but I was no match for him. He was the one in charge of these woods. Well-fed and strong, hardened by years of wilderness. His arm wound tight as a coiled snaked as he wrenched me forward.

I stopped fighting. There was no use.

We walked back to my hut looking almost like a couple walking hand-in-hand, and then he bared his awful teeth one last time, enjoying his advantage, before leaving me with the words, "Think of what you've done."

Even the guards laughed as I slid back in through the door, but I didn't care. I hadn't failed. Every time I stepped out that door, I learned something new about this place, about these people, and that was good enough for me.

...

They followed us down to the river. Our guards. They might not care much about hygiene in these parts, but that didn't mean I was ready to give it up.