I’m startled by her defiance, even so far from home—by the way she didn’t flinch when I cut her hand and made her bleed all over the forest floor. This woman, who grew up in safety, seems so undaunted by danger.
The large stone wall of Mountain Haven finally comes into view as we round the bend in the trail, and Harlow gasps. The sunset paints the cream stone brilliant orange. She stares at it, transfixed by the vicious scar that marks the wall in a brighter shade of white—installed ten years ago when the Drained came and fractured our world.
“That is what survival looks like,” I say.
Every time I see it from the outside, I feel the same creeping dread up my spine. The fear comes in these moments as fresh as it was that night. I’m here and whole, but looking at my home from the outside, it’s almost comforting to see a monument of all we lost that night.
“They broke through.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“They did.”
“But how? I thought they just broke through the doors.” She turns to look at me, her expression a mixture of horror and curiosity.
She is either the world’s greatest actress, or she really doesn’t know anything.
We crest the last hill, and the large metal doors creak open as my parents approach the gates.
Harlow sits a little straighter, her gaze darting around the entry.
“Looking for an easy escape, lovely?” I taunt.
“Just a prisoner sizing up her cell, my feral wolf,” she counters, her voice overly sweet.
As soon as Nightsong trots through the entrance, I feel the weight of eyes on us. Harlow keeps her gaze straight ahead, like she can feel it too.
As we wind through the narrow streets of Mountain Haven, Harlow’s composure slips. She gawks at the structured housing and the bustling little city we’ve built. “I thought you said you went to ground.”
“We did. For a year. While we rebuilt the walls.”
“I thought you said a lot of your people died.”
“They did.” I offer no further explanation.
She continues openly staring at the busy streets as we ride through the six levels of the fort toward Havenwood House.
The people pay us little mind. Though some stop to gape at her, most continue about their day, trying to get tasks completed before dusk.
When we reach the stables, I dismount and help Harlow down. She’s steadier on her feet than I expected her to be, but her hips must be sore.
Her guard dismounts and rushes to her side, looking at the blood matted to the slashes in her cloak.
She bats his hands away. “It’s a scratch, don’t fuss.”
Gaven gives me a look that would wither a lesser man. “You had a responsibility.”
Harlow presses a hand to his chest. “I’m fine, Gaven. Henry got me here in one piece.” She meets his gaze, her voice low. “I’ve seen worse.”
He frowns, but his shoulders relax and he takes a step back, folding his arms behind his back. “I’ll need a full layout of the manor with all entry and exit points, and I’d like to see Harlow’s rooms.”
“She’ll be staying with me,” I say.
I’m not sure what madness drives me to think it’s a good idea, but several of our guards are already crowding around the manor doors for a glimpse of her, and I’m not about to let her become a vulnerability to some lesser man who wants my place of power. I did not fight this hard for this long to lose my chance at vengeance now. My family didn’t suffer unimaginable losses and drag our people back from the brink of extinction so that I could let some bystander snatch away my vengeance.
My father gives me a side-eye, but it’s Harlow who crosses her arms and glares at me.
“That’s inappropriate for an unwed couple,” she says.
I clear my throat. “I meant you’ll stay in the adjoining rooms meant for my wife.”
