Page 139 of Burn Her They Said
I quirk a brow at him. “The hogs farmers train to track rare mushrooms?”
“Three adult males,” Fray says. “One was the size of a bear. Who knew they could grow so large and would be aggressive enough to charge at a carriage?”
“Anyone who knows what manner of creatures live in these woods.” I glance around, surveying everyone’s expressions. “Are you all truly so ignorant as to what resides in the forest we happen to be traveling within for several days on end?”
They respond by blinking, and I drop my face to my open palms. “You mean to tell me that while you stay awake all night, none of you thought to research the route so you would be informed of what dangers you might need to defend me against?”
“Hey!” Fray exclaims. “We needed to make sure the swine ambush wasn’t a diversion, when the real threat could have been anywhere.”
The back of my head hits the padded backrest as a sigh slowly seeps from me.
“Anyone need to take care of any needs while we’re stopped?” Fray asks.
“Me.” I rise to stand as Varic jolts forward, leaning toward the center of the cabin.
“I suppose I’ll wake her, just in case,” Cirrin says, staring over at us before releasing Drusilla from her slumber.
Lars exits, then offers me his hand to help me down the shallow stairs.
Malin stands still until I playfully backhand his bicep, to which he animatedly rubs where my knuckles made contact.
I shake my head as we move toward the heavier tree cover when a hand encircles my arm, and my lungs fill with the warm spice scent emanating from Varic’s uniform.
He bends toward me until his lips barely brush the outer edge of my ear. “Wait.”
His touch, his voice, the lack of distance between us beckons her to come forward. The Imperial Grand Witch takes over as I require her steely reserve to help me resist the temptation that is Varic.
“Wait for what, Imperial Lead?—?”
“Please don’t.” He releases my arm as a spark of disappointment pierces the veil she’s draped us in, absorbing the disgust rippling through his skin as satisfaction whirls beneath my own.
I attempt to turn and tell him exactly what I will do when I stumble over a pebble and force Varic’s lips to press in the center of my forehead, the contact resembling a heartfelt kiss given before an important event.
The accidental gesture throws me off worse as I try to right myself, when Varic takes hold of my arms and steadies me before him. We stand like this, staring back at each other while my heart hammers, until leaves and twigs crunch around us from the rest of my Guards moving in closer.
“You said we are safe, yet you are all going to stand around while I relieve myself?” I ask, hoping they’ll afford me some privacy.
“Do you not want us to prevent the fungus-sniffing hogs from bowling you over when you’re squatting low to the ground?” Lars asks.
I turn away to face the trees, then fold my skirts into a ball and hold the mass under my chin. Then curse Drusilla for dressing me in the most ridiculous uniform for a journey like this, with the effort it takes to undo the ties on the front of my pants in this position.
Once I complete the task I would have much preferred to do without my Guards standing nearby, I huff in annoyance at the challenge of having to hold my skirts in order to secure the pant strings. Muttering under my breath, I do the best I can when a twig snaps.
I snap my head to the side and find Drusilla staring back at me—though it seems more as if she sees straight through me, with the indiscernible expression she wears so regularly. Her bright white skin gleams where the moon hits it, and an unfamiliar spark lights in her gray eyes.
A groan of frustration tears from me as I stand before trudging back toward the road. An emotion which builds when Drusilla falls in to walk alongside me until we reach the carriage. She stays silent the whole way before taking hold of the handle to climb into the coach, where she settles into the same seat she’s maintained the whole journey.
I reach for the handle, then pause when my hand lands on a warm palm instead. Heat spreads under my skin, alerting me to the identity of its owner without needing to turn and look.
Varic growls deep and low as he leans over me, pressing his chest to my shoulder. His hand abandons my own to take hold of my hips, halting my movement with his fingers digging in.
My chest heaves with a newfound fury, and I open my mouth to protest when his lips—then his teeth—brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Wait,” for the second time this evening.
I raise my shoulder to stave off the sparks scattering along my skin. “Drusilla is the only one inside, and you’re right here. I am perfectly safe.”
“That is for me to determine, and I say we stick to protocol.”
“You’re being commanding for no good reason, being stubborn just like your Dragon.”
