Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
“You all understand,” she said, her voice softening, as though speaking to the animals themselves. “You know I will never let him turn me into something I’m not. I will fight him if I must, even if my own heart…” She trailed off, her throat tightening. “Even if my own heart is a traitor.”
The animals quieted. The squirrels froze on their branches, tails twitching once before going still. The fox did not reappear, and the birdcalls fell silent until only the sound of her own breathing remained.
The quiet was sudden, unnatural, as though the forest itself held its breath.
Fawn stopped, her pulse quickening. She turned slowly, her gaze sweeping the shadows between the trees.
And from the dim hush… stepped her mother.
Her voice cut through the stillness, calm but edged. “We need to talk, Fawn.”
Fawn froze where she stood, her heart thudding at the sight of her mother emerging from the shadows. Theodora’s dark green cloak clung to her as though it had been woven from the forest itself, her eyes sharp.
Fawn drew in a fortifying breath, preparing herself to deal with her ever-commanding mother. “Why are you here, Mum?”
Theodora’s lips curved faintly, though no warmth touched her gaze. “To see my daughter and to remind her not to tread a dangerous path.”
Fawn let out a bitter laugh. “Dangerous path? You mean marriage to Rhodes.”
“You would do well to heed me,” Theodora said quietly.
Fawn shook her head. “I don’t need heeding, and I no longer need you making decisions for me. I’m quite capable of deciding for myself.”
Theodora’s expression tightened. “At least be wise enough to allow your innate skills to guide you on this.”
Fawn lowered her voice to a whisper. “You mean witchcraft, which is dangerous advice, Mum.”
Theodora tossed her chin up with pride. “Wise witches are rarely, if ever, caught.”
Fawn grinned. “Then, of course, there is that rare foolish witch who goes around granting wishes to find her daughters suitable husbands and manages to get her daughters into trouble.”
“Minor trouble that was easily rectified—” A heavy breath robbed her remaining words, and Theodora shook her head. “Unfortunately, yours is a tad more complicated.”
“A tad, you say? I fear that Rhodes’ wish may be more than a tad more complicated.”
Something flashed in her mum’s eyes that she never saw before this moment… fear.
“Why? Has something happened?” her mum asked anxiously.
“Several sheep were torn apart, their throats ripped and left to bleed. Rhodes was ready to slaughter the wolves for it. Wolves who had no hand in it. I believe the culprit is someone who commands wolfhounds. Though why it was done remains a mystery.”
At that, Theodora’s face paled. “Or beasts.” Her voice was a whisper. “Then it begins.”
Fawn frowned. “What begins?”
Theodora seized her arm, her eyes blazing now, more fear than anger. “You must leave this place, Fawn. Leave him. Leave before it is too late.”
Fawn wrenched free. “Nay. I’m not running. Not from him. Not from any of this.”
“You do not understand,” Theodora pressed. “The darkness that clings to him, the power in—”
“I understand enough,” Fawn snapped, cutting her off. “He may infuriate me, may try to command me, but I will not be driven away. I will remain here. I made a commitment. I gave my word. I will remain his wife.”
The words rang into the still forest as defiant as the woman who spoke them.
Shocked, her mum barely got the words out. “You wed… him?”
“Aye, just today.”
Hope seemed to spring in her eyes. “Then you haven’t sealed your vows yet.”
“That is none of your concern,” Fawn said firmly.
Her mum rested her hand on Fawn’s arm. “Whatever you do, Fawn, do not consummate your vows. Do not seal this union to him.”
Her mum did something Fawn never saw her do… she pleaded with her.
“Please, Fawn, I beg of you, wait for a few days at least until he reveals his true self.”
Fawn shook her head. “You make no sense. What true self?”
Her mum kept her voice to a whisper. “The evil that lurks within him.”
CHAPTER 13
Snow fell heavier by the time Fawn reached her cottage, the flakes clinging to her cloak and dampening her fiery curls. She slipped inside, closing the door firmly against the storm. Warmth and the familiar scents of herbs, straw, and feathers greeted her.
Sprig wriggled from the pouch, stretched, then padded straight to the hearth, curling up in a patch of warmth as though he owned it.
“Some guard you’d make,” Fawn teased softly, bending to stroke his small head before she straightened and looked around.
The fox in the corner shifted on his blanket, his amber eyes bright despite his recovering injury. She crossed to him, crouching low, and rubbed his ears until his tail thumped once in answer.
“You’re mending well, Ash,” she encouraged, though knew his limp was permanent and a danger to his survival.