Page 34 of Ashen Torment

I look away and adjust my collar. Finally, he lifts his eyes to mine. “One must possess a soul to be an artist.”

He turns and continues along the path, pointedly avoiding the pheasant lying among the leaves. I lift my rifle, and the click of the mechanism makes him whip around. I catch him wide-eyed, and I feel the muscle in my thigh contract.

So, he is capable of other expressions.

“Lord Vasiliev Ashford, why are you aiming so low? It’s dangerous!” his valet exclaims.

Laurence steps closer.

“My lord... what are you doing?”

“All of you, be silent,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

The Viscount tilts his head.

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, staring at the pointed barrel.

Behind a bush, a small fawn peeks out with twitching ears, its brown coat dappled with white spots. Its large, black eyes shine, vulnerable and innocent.

“Step aside, Viscount,” I order, rifle still raised.

“Put that gun down!” his voice is even firmer.

“We are here to hunt.”

“Deer were not included,” he retorts, stepping sideways while keeping his eyes locked on mine.

“The Marquess said no foxes. He never mentioned deer,” I press, my finger ready on the trigger.

He moves closer, enough for his arm to brush my side. “Deer are not hunted on this estate. They are rarely even seen. Put that gun down.”

“We were lucky, then,” I snarl, and I pull the trigger.

The barrel trembles slightly in my hands. But he is faster. With a swift, decisive motion, he shoves my weapon aside, the shot whistles past and embeds itself in the trunk of a tree next to the fawn. My heart leaps. The deer bolts, its legs thin as threads, vanishing into the brush.

I stand frozen, feeling my pulse racing and my breath short. Laurence mutters something under his breath. The rifle slips from my hand, hitting the leaves with a dull thud.

I spin around, my body tensing forward, my shadow looming over his slighter frame.

“Have you lost your mind? That is incredibly danger—”

A sharp blow explodes against my jaw.

The Viscount’s knuckles catch me full on. The air is knocked out of me, blood pulses in my ears. My pupils dilate, my jaw vibrates from the impact, and a metallic taste rises on my tongue.

Did he truly just hit me? Me? The future Marquess of Ashford?

He doesn’t move, he just stares. I feel my nostrils flare as I gulp in air.

“My lord!” Laurence lunges forward, hands reaching for me.

I block him without looking, a sharp wave of my palm. He stops mid-step.

His valet leaps forward. “Viscount, what are you doing!?”

Evander doesn’t even acknowledge him. He doesn’t pull back his fist, he doesn’t apologize, he doesn’t defend himself. He just stands there, straight, his eyes on me with a calm more offensive than the blow itself. A leaf falls between us, spinning slowly, seeming to make more noise than our breathing.

“Deer are not to be hunted. You are not following the rules.”