Page 22 of A Vow of Shadows

"You're the Ferrier." I hadn't intended to say the words aloud, and the man made no sound in confirmation or denial. He only stared at me, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

There was no way that this man was the same person who appeared from nothing and controlled the darkness, but as he turned, I noticed the ever-present shadows eddying about his feet.

My eyes slowly glided up his form, taking note of every detail that had been hidden from me the night we met. He was clad fully in black, but it did little to conceal the thick muscles that pulled at the fabric along his long legs and broad chest. The leather gloves still covered his hands. In fact, every inch of skin was covered except for his neck and face. And what a face it was.

He had a strong jaw dusted with stubble and dark eyes that bored into my very soul, all framed by nearly black hair with a gentle wave.

I realized I’d been staring and quickly averted my gaze, finding a sudden interest in the stark ground.

Somehow, I’d felt more hidden while he was cloaked. I itched under his scrutiny, tilting my head to force my hair over my mark. He’d already seen it, of course—at least the part of it that consumed my face and hand—but I’d been able to show him without fear of seeing the judgment and disgust reflected back in his eyes. I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with those looks again.

A dark chuckle drew my focus back to him. Apparently, my discomfort amused him.

I huffed in annoyance. Here was this beautiful, strong, magical man, and I expected him to protect me, to see me as a person with value. I’d been naive in thinking of him as my savior.

I remembered his words from the night before when he claimed he was no knight in shining armor. He was right.Standing before me was a demon in human form, a veritable prince of darkness.

I was suddenly very aware that I was an unmarried woman staying alone in the home of an unfairly attractive man. And itwasunfair. This wasn’t my life. It was no life at all. The Ferrier had said so himself. I was only meant to hide away here, beneath Death’s nose, until it was safe to return to my utterly normal life.

“Is something wrong, Miss Fil’Owen?” He regarded me curiously, arms crossing as he abandoned his pitchfork to step toward me.

It felt like an attack. My hackles rose and I resisted the urge to bare my teeth at the perceived threat.

“I just didn’t expect you to look so—” I stopped myself before I could tell the blasted Ferrier of Souls that I thought he was attractive. Heat rose to my cheeks, but my foggy mind failed to fill in the blank with a more appropriate descriptor.

“Ruggedly handsome?” he asked, a mocking smile turning up one corner of his mouth.

“Human,” I spit out, pouring every ounce of indignation into my answering glare.

He sighed, shoulders drooping with the motion. “It may shock you to know that I was once human, Miss Fil’Owen.”

“Please, call me Kat. And what are you now?”

“Other.”

I waited for more, but he didn’t elaborate. I let the subject drop.

“I was looking for food,” I admitted, oddly ashamed of having basic human needs. “And water?”

“And you thought you could scream some into existence?”

I didn’t try to hide my eyeroll.

He pointed over his shoulder. “There is a well there, but there are water pumps throughout the house. You'll find no food here.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at him with all the fire I could muster. “Clearly. So what do you intend to do about it?”

He brushed the dirt from his shoulder where the pitchfork had been. The gesture was so casual, it enraged me further. “I fail to see how it's my problem.”

“You agreed to keep me alive for a year.” My hands balled into fists, but I kept them tucked beneath my arms.

“I agreed to keep you from Death for a year,” he said, raising one finger for emphasis.

“Semantics. Either way, you can't just let me starve. That would just as surely deliver me to Death's door as your carriage.” I’d grown up in the lap of luxury, so I was hardly on the verge of starvation, but that didn’t mean I could go an entire year without food.

“Strictly speaking, I cannot deliver you to Death’s door. I can merely show you the way there.”

“You’re quite infuriating, do you know that?”