Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Finally—finally—this is over.
“No,” he repeats. He still hasn’t looked at me. He’s too busy staring down at Abel. A man who used to be his best friend. An enemy that is obviously determined to hurt him. To hurt all of us.
But denying the Herald is unthinkable. Eli agreed, just like the other faction leaders, and neither Aisling nor Ciar balked as their daughters and wives and brothers and sons descended to stand next to the Paine brother who called their name. Eli can’t keep me.
Being a Bride means cutting off all previous ties, at least for the year of handfasting required. It’s an old-fashioned way of creating alliances, of ensuring a year’s worth of peace between Bride’s people and whoever won them. It’s highly ironic that the Paine brothers are using it as a punishment, but I can’t deny it’s a brilliant move. With one fell swoop, they’ve ensured they’re untouchable for an entire year—and they’ve all but declared that they won’t be moving against the three factions in the process.
I clear my throat. “You gave your word, Eli.”
He finally looks at me. I search his handsome face, looking for some sign of the man I fell in love with all those years ago. He gives me nothing. Nothing but the carefree mask he wears at all times. The only indication that he’s affected at all is the intensity of his hazel eyes. “No.”
He can’t just say no and make it so.
“Yes,” I snarl. “It’s over. You lost. Let me go.”
Let me go.
Just fucking let me go, please.
I don’t want to be a Bride, especially to a Paine, especially to Abel Paine. Of course I don’t; I remember his father all too well, and the man staring up at me is a carbon copy of that monster. But he won’t kill me, won’t do anything to permanently damage me, and I can survive anything else for a year. And then? Then I’ll be free in truth.
But first Eli has to release me.
The Herald’s voice reaches us. “Is there a problem, Eli Walsh?”
If he balks when the rest of the faction leaders didn’t, the entirety of Sabine Valley will come down on his head. Our people will pay the price. I look at Eli, but he has a stubborn set to his jaw that I don’t like. He’s still trying to find a way to protect me, despite the fact that I don’t need his protection. I will keep my word, even if he is considering breaking his.
Fine.
I’ll do it myself.
I jerk my hand from his and start down the stairs. I can feel the eyes of everyone in the amphitheater on me, but none of them burns as hot as Abel Paine. He waits in the center of the sand, shirtless and covered in sweat. His lip is bloodied, and he’ll have a constellation of bruises on his body tomorrow, but he’s still standing with the casual arrogance he displayed from the moment he appeared.
He’s handsome in an ancient warrior kind of way. He’s a white guy with short dark hair and a close-cropped beard that seems to highlight his strong jaw, rather than conceal it. Broad shoulders and a thick chest. He’s built like a tank. Nothing extra, every inch of him contributing to his power.
He doesn’t smile as I cross the sand to stand next to him, doesn’t gloat or grin or talk shit. He simply nods as if this was the expected outcome from the start.
That’s scarier than anything he’s done so far.
He holds a hand out to me. It’s broad and just as bloodied as he is, the evidence of his violence there on his knuckles.
I very much do not want to do this. But living in this place means adhering to its rules, and I’m no oathbreaker. It’s just a year. Twelve short months. It’s nothing. Becoming his Bride will protect my people, and that’s all that matters, all I’ve ever wanted. I take a slow breath and lift my hand.
“Stop.”
Eli’s voice sounds behind me, too close. I spin to find him on the sand with us. He stalks to us and looks at the Herald. “One more.”
She thins her lips. “You’re not obeying the letter of the law.”
“One more, Herald.” He glares at Abel. “If I win, Harlow doesn’t become his Bride.”
Shock slaps me in the face. If we’re the only faction without a Bride linked to the Paine brothers, then it will be open season on our people. What is Eli doing? “No.”
The Herald considers him and turns to Abel. “This is unprecedented.”
“I accept, Herald.” He grins, his teeth bloody. “But if I win, Eli becomes my Bride, too, and the Raider faction returns to its rightful leaders—me and my brothers.”
Eli doesn’t hesitate. “I agree.”
I spin to him. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t.” If Eli loses, that means his territory—our territory—becomes Abel’s. At least as Brides, those things are separate. He’s not simply bargaining for our lives. He’s bargaining our people’s, too. “Eli, no.”