Page 152 of Sands of Atonement

“As soon as I had Norrah under my care, I sent word to Gabriel a few days ago.” Targon smiled at Gabriel and waved a hand to the chair across from him. “Welcome. I think this calls for a celebration. There are people here, in the Atrove, who’ve never been Atrovian. A forbidden act, unless, of course, they are prisoners and soon to be killed. How interesting is that?”

A chill went down my spine.

Who was this man? I quickly attempted to compose my facial expression.

Gabriel sat down at the end of the table and leaned back in his chair without saying another word. His empty, icy green eyes finally slid to Norrah, and she must have felt the pull because she met them.

There was a loud, very loud tension that burned in the room. I shifted in my seat, suddenly thinking of all the ways I could slit Gabriel’s throat right here, right now. But my mind was working too slowly and running out of options. If I were correct, this was their second time meeting each other. The first time was the day before their wedding.

“Norrah’s had the best of care, I assure you. She’s been safe here, well-fed and taken care of. Isn’t that so?” Targon glanced over to Norrah.

I was going to be sick. She was trapped. She was going to be forced to marry this man from hell.

Gabriel’s eyes perused Norrah’s body as if testing Targon’s words. But I couldn’t read Gabriel. Maybe that added to what was so unnerving about him. He seemed like he couldn’t feel a single emotion. He always had the same face, the same eyes, completely unbothered. Something seemed off.

“If I leave here and find out she’s been hurt in any way, shape, or form, I’ll burn this entire mountain to ash.” His words were clear and dry, a matter of fact. He turned toward me and cocked his head to the side. “Where is your husband?”

I narrowed my eyes. Damn him.

“Husband?” Targon muttered near me while my heart, finally, was pumping more blood now than before. I squeezed the fabric of my dress in my lap, imagining it were Gabriel’s neck for even mentioning him.

With a tight smile, I said, “He’ll be here, but you won’t see him.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll be dead before you can,” I promised.

His eyes didn’t flutter away. Like he couldn’t care less that I threatened his life. It had little effect.

“I look forward to it,” he deadpanned.

“Eshe,” I heard Norrah quietly say, and I pulled my attention from Gabriel. She shook her head gently, and I frowned. I would have a spine for both of us. How could she not fight, even if the inevitable was that we would lose?

She was afraid.

Gabriel slid his eyes back to Norrah and kept them on her for a moment too long. I could only imagine the plans he had for her.

Targon’s voice echoed through the room as he spoke to Gabriel, “Do you enjoy wine? You should try some. We have the most exquisite wine brought from the many regions up north.”

“I didn’t come here to break bread with you. We’ll be leaving.” Gabriel stood up from his chair, straightening his tunic because he was so fucking proper.

I shot up from my chair. “Over my dead body. You won’t be taking her anywhere.”

Norrah threw another glare at me, her lips pursed. But she was afraid. I could see it in her eyes.

Gabriel looked at me as he lifted his palm toward the door, waiting for Norrah without another word. She then lifted herself, straightening her dress and spine before rounding the table to me.

Norrah whispered in a hurry, “Don’t come find me. Swear it?”

My eyes slid to Norrah’s teary ones, and I shook my head. I could never.

“Swear it, Eshe. I don’t want you coming for me.”

Targon interrupted our whispers, “So soon? Why don’t you finish the meal with us? We even have a chamber for you set and ready for… the consummation.”

I gasped and whirled on my heel to Gabriel. “If you touch her, I will kill you.” I was losing control, but everything I was doing was like walking through water.

Norrah’s throat moved as she walked toward Gabriel.