Page 35 of Stolen Thorn Bride

“Not that he isn’t perfectly nice,” she said in a low voice, “but does he have to follow me everywhere? It’s unnerving.”

“I can ask him to be as unobtrusive as possible,” Dechlan offered, “but his presence is non-negotiable for now. Perhaps when you’re more settled, we can consider a compromise.”

“Speaking of compromises…” Her fingers tangled in Aral’s shaggy fur as she spoke, and she avoided his eyes. “I’ve been thinking. What if there was a way I could go home for only a few days? Just to set things right. I would make sure everyone is well and cared for, and then I would return. I swear I would never reveal any of your secrets.”

A chill entered Dechlan’s heart as he looked down on his bondmate and grappled with the realization that this might always stand between them.

“Kasia, as Rian of the Northwatch, I do not have the luxury of ignoring our laws. The consequences would be unthinkable.”

“And what of the consequences to my family?” she begged, looking up at him now with pleading eyes. “None of this is their fault. All I would need is a short time to make arrangements for them to be cared for. I swear I would not try to run away.”

“I know you would not.” He kept his voice gentle, because he knew it was the truth. Kasia was as bound by her responsibilities as he, and would never break her word. Which was why it hurt him deeply to tell her no. He knew what she must be going through each time she thought of the people who probably believed her dead.

But it was the worst part of his burden to always be the one to make the hard decisions. He alone determined which of his warriors would be sent to the battle lines and which would remain. It was his duty to choose which punishment was just when desperation sent a man or a woman past the edges of the law. And his to decree which luxuries must be sacrificed in the name of survival.

He was weary to death of these decisions, and now he must continue to uphold the law that said his bondmate must never be allowed to return home. Must look into her hazel eyes and refuse to give in to his compassion.

How could he build trust between them while denying her something so fundamental to her sense of self and safety?

“Kasia, I…”

The heavy tread of footsteps charged up behind him.

“Lord Dechlan!”

He whirled at the urgency in the man’s tone. Garvan, the captain of the guard at Northwatch, was a full head shorter than Dechlan, but very few elves would care to tangle with him in a fight. His brown hair was tied back, and in contrast with his usual calm demeanor, his eyes were wide with what, on another man, Dechlan might have called panic.

“Wraith!” Garvan cried, and a cold sense of urgency snapped into focus.

“Where?” Dechlan ground out harshly.

“Half mile north. It ambushed two of our scouts and killed a wolf.”

Dechlan suddenly felt sick. The battle lines were just over a hundred miles from Northwatch Keep and supposedly holding. So how could there be a wraith here? The creatures typically acted in a swarm, defending one another and their territory in groups.

If they changed tactics and began to splinter off? The damage could be unthinkable. No one would be safe.

“Stay inside,” he told Kasia briefly. He threw a glance at Tiernan, but the young elf needed no instruction. He would protect the Riene with his own life, which left Dechlan free to follow Garvan.

“And you?” Kasia’s voice was cool and stiff.

“We must find and kill the wraith,” he told her impatiently.

Something about her stance and expression seemed off, but he did not have a moment to spare. He could ask her later. Consider it when the danger was past. She would be safe here, so long as they destroyed the wraith before it could come any closer.

* * *

It was lessthan an hour before he was once again armed and armored, mounted on a battle-trained dreadwolf and racing north with five of his deadliest fighters.

As they rode, Dechlan fought down the chill of recollection and the sense of ominous foreboding that threatened to freeze his muscles and derail his purpose. In memory, he could still feel the sweep of the wraith’s icy claws, and the visceral pain he’d endured when it reached past his physical being to wreak its destruction on his deepest self.

But he could not permit the memory to slow his responses or cause him to hesitate. The lives of everyone at Northwatch depended on him, and while he would prefer to have had more time to prepare for this moment, life had rarely given him the luxury of time. He had to face it now.

Just past a turn in the road, they encountered the dead wolf, blood clearly visible in the gray fur of its neck. Declan’s throat threatened to close at the sight, but he could not afford the distraction.

The wraith was a strong one. Already well fed by its kills, it would be a dual threat, its claws fully formed and given substance by the life energy of its victims.

And it would be close. Somewhere nearby… there.