Irritation flared.
Sensing it, Kieran gave me a tight smile. “Remember what your task is.”
We’d wanted to knock each other on our asses many times in our lives, but I’d never wanted it more than I did right now.
“Remember your task,” he repeated.
“I haven’t forgotten for one second.” My tone hardened. “Not one.”
Kieran lifted his chin. “Good to know.”
The way he looked at me as I stepped around him told me he didn’t quite believe what I was saying. I’d have to key him in on the shit in my head, but now wasn’t the time for that, either.
I crossed the distance, kneeling in front of Poppy. I still didn’t want to wake her, but time…yeah, we were running out of it.
I touched her cheek, and her lashes lifted. Green eyes met mine, and how easy it was for me to let go of that frustration and irritation was sort of miraculous.
Sliding my thumb along the line of her cheek and then across her lower lip, I smiled. That was easy, too. “Good morning, Princess.”
“Morning,”
“You slept well.”
“I did.”
“Told you,” I teased.
Poppy grinned as she blushed. “You were right.”
“I’m always right.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doubtful.”
“Do I have to prove it to you again?”
Poppy’s scent thickened, a lovely and welcome reprieve to the staleness of the Blood Forest. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Shame,” I murmured. “We have to get moving.”
“Okay.” She sat, wincing. “I just need a couple of minutes.”
I took her hand after she’d unraveled herself from the blankets, helping her stand. Because I’d rather be in a helpful mood than a pissy one, I straightened her sweater, tugging it down her hips.
Poppy’s gaze lifted to mine, and the conversation with Kieran felt like it had happened a dozen years ago. There was uncertainty in her gaze and the set of her mouth, and it took only a heartbeat to remember that what she’d experienced the night before had been a first for her. Only the gods knew what was going on in her head. It was likely as messy as mine, even though the reasons were different.
I lowered my voice. “Thank you for last night.”
Her lips parted. “I feel like I should be thanking you.”
“While it pleases my ego to know you feel that way,”—and it really did—“you don’t need to do that.” I threaded my fingers through hers. “You trusted me last night, but more importantly, I know that what we shared is a risk.”
In so many ways.
I stepped closer to her and spoke a truth that was as sad as it was beautiful. Something that cut so deep it left me reeling. “And it is an honor that you’d take that risk with me, Poppy. So, thank you.”
BLOOD IN THE FOREST
Snow began falling as we traveled deeper into the Blood Forest. The blood trees were less dense here, allowing us to spread out a bit more, but we couldn’t pick up much speed unless we wanted to risk injuring one of our horses. The forest floor was a gnarled tangle of thick roots and rock.
I glanced down at Poppy. She was staring at the ground, likely searching for barrats. A wry grin came to my lips. She had been gazing at the trees. They were a lot stranger in this part of the Blood Forest, their limbs and boughs twisted and tangled, the bark glistening in a way that wasn’t at all natural—as Airrick would say.
Poppy had been quiet for most of the trip. All of us had been this far into the Blood Forest, but she’d immediately relaxed against me the moment I mounted Setti behind her. There was still that little breathy inhale that I so enjoyed hearing when I put my arm around her and folded my hand over her hip. I’d contented myself with drawing circles with my thumb and lines with my forefinger, but my hand had stilled.
My senses tingled as I scanned the unforgiving shadows between the tangled trees. My jaw locked. Icy wind whirled through the branches, carrying the smell of rot and decay.
Kieran’s horse suddenly reared up ahead. My grip tightened on Setti’s reins as Kieran calmed his steed, rubbing the horse’s neck. I eased my arm from around Poppy’s waist.
“What is it?” a Huntsman named Noah said from in front of us as I signaled those behind me to stop.
Near Kieran, Phillips lifted a finger to his lips. My eyes narrowed on the trees. Poppy tensed as Setti’s muscles twitched, and he began backing up, whinnying nervously. I moved to calm him, but Poppy beat me to it. She stretched forward, rubbing his mane. The horses all around us started fidgeting.
Something was coming.
Something that scurried on four legs and would likely give Poppy a heart attack.
I tapped Poppy’s sheathed dagger. She needed no other instruction. She nodded, reaching inside her cloak.
Kieran’s head jerked to our left at the same time I caught sight of the reddish-black fur. Neither of us said a damn thing because, well, one less guard was one less to deal with.
The barrat came out of nowhere. A burst of black and red about the size of a boar leapt into the air, slamming into the side of Noah’s horse as Poppy jerked back against me. Startled, the steed reared, throwing the mortal. The barrat, ever the opportunist, was instantly on the man, snapping at his face as the Huntsman struggled to hold on to its oily fur.
Phillips turned in his saddle, bow in hand. He released the nocked arrow, striking the bastard in the neck.
The barrat shrieked as Noah threw him off. The mortal didn’t waste time. He pulled his short sword free, the blade a gleaming crimson as he brought it down, ending the rodent’s suffering. Or ours. I turned my attention back to where it had come from. That wasn’t the only one.
“Gods,” Noah grunted. “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it,” Phillips said, another arrow at the ready.
“If there’s one, there’s a horde,” I said. “We need to get—”
Barrats were suddenly everywhere, racing out of the foliage, surprising even me with how close they’d been. Poppy pressed back against me.
“Shit,” Noah cursed, jumping to a low-hanging branch. He hauled his legs up as a sea of reddish-black fur flooded us.
The chattering and yelping barrats flew past us, rushing between the nervous horses. They disappeared into the thick foliage on our other side.
That wasn’t good at all.
Neither were the tendrils of mist gathering along the exposed roots. The scent of rot increased, and the mist rose and thickened to our left.
“We need to get out of here,” Kieran stated. “Now.”
Finally deciding to stop hanging from a tree, Noah dropped to the ground. The mist was already deep enough that his legs disappeared in it. Withdrawing his sword, he hurried to his horse and grabbed the reins as Setti tensed—
A Craven ran out of the mist faster than the damn barrats, its shredded clothing hanging from its body in tatters. Noah, the poor bastard, didn’t have a chance. Not even with the warning. It was suddenly on him, tearing into the man’s chest with its sharpened nails and his throat with its jagged fangs. I cursed as Noah fell back, dropping his sword as his horse took off.