Page 50 of The Savage Vow
“Good.” The older female stood from her perch and waved them on. “Come. You will need rest. By dawn, I shall have what you will need.”
Nargol and Makhel stood. She flicked her gaze to her friend who stared at her. They need not say a word. The question was already in Makhel’s eyes that was echoing in her own head.
Was this price too high?
When she thought of what this could mean? The people she was protecting.
She would pay it.
Orlena was unraveling,and she didn’t know how to stop it.
She rose early every day before dawn, as usual. She kept her same routine. Neatly braided her dark hair, walked to the shop, and arrived before Yambul.
It felt forced now.
Things she’d done, day in and day out, now seemed as if she were following someone else’s schedule. Her fear was sharpened beyond belief.
Every creak in the floorboard of the shop had her flinching.
Every time Yambul disappeared into his office, her chest froze as fear took a hold of her.
She could do nothing but throw herself into her work. She worked faster now. She ensured that every measurement was precise. She had to keep busy in order to keep her from going crazy. When she wasn’t crafting or cutting wood, she was out in the shop wiping down counters, reorganizing shelves, and double-checking the sales ledgers that she was already sure were correct.
Her thoughts never strayed far from the one act of rebellion she had committed.
The thievery of her contract.
It was still hidden where she had left it. Three days had passed since she’d taken it. Three days since Nargol had ridden away.
Three days of waiting for the hammer to fall.
Yambul had not said anything. Not yet. But every time he went into his office and shut the door, she couldn’t help but envision him rifling through his drawers and realizing something was missing.
She waited for the moment she’d hear him roar her name and stomp through the shop to find her.
More than once she’d almost brought the contract back.
Twice she’d made it so far as to lift the floorboard and take the folded parchment into her hands. Her heart beat so hard at the thought of him finding out that she was sure it was almost coming through her chest.
What would her punishment be?
Her hands trembled at the thought.
But she could not return it without knowing what it said. Not knowing if he had been speaking truths of her time left with him, or if he’d been lying this entire time.
It was late afternoon, and the weather had finally broken. The storms that had battered their village for days had retreated. It had left the air feeling heavy but clean. The sky was a pale gold as the suns began their descent.
Yambul was currently in his office while she manned the storefront. Customers had thinned out as the day drew to a close. Orlena found herself watching the door more than the shelves, or the lone customer who was browsing a shelf of bows.
Yambul’s footsteps rumbled on the floor. Her breathing quickened.
Was this the moment?
He arrived in the store and scanned the area until his gaze landed on her, his infamous scowl in place.
“What’s lit a fire under your ass?” he asked.
“Ex—excuse me?” she stammered. She stood to her full height. Her stomach grew queasy as she looked at him.
