Chapter 4 Sold For Silver
The iron bindings bit viciously into Evangeline’s wrists, the silver runes pulsing with a dull heat that made her muscles feel like water, and made her feel unusually weak.
They hadn’t walked very far, but her knees were already shaking from all that running she had been doing earlier. Lucky for her, she’d spotted a stallion, but unlucky for her, the stallion belonged to Lucian and before she could even try to make a run for it, Lucian had picked her up like she weighed nothing and tossed her over the saddle of the massive black stallion. Her breath hitched as her stomach slammed against the hard leather seat.
"What the hell, put me down, Lucian!" she rasped, her face flushing red from the rush of blood going up to her head and the pain in her stomach. She kicked her legs back, aiming for anything solid, but she hit nothing. "Put me down or I swear I'll rip your eyes out!"
"You're in no position to issue commands, little rabbit," Lucian said smoothly from somewhere above her.
In one fluid motion, he swung his leg over the back of the stallion and mounted the horse behind her. He seized her waist with one massive, gloved hand, hoisting her upright so she sat flush between his thighs.
She huffed in surprised at the sudden rush of proper air to her lungs, and how easy it was for the man to just manhandle her however he saw fit.
His chest pressed hard against her back, radiating an unnatural heat through her damp clothes.
"Get away from me," she growled, twisting her torso side to side, grinding her wrists together in a desperate attempt to slip the cuffs and unglue their bodies from each other to no avail.
"Keep squirming and we'll both eating snow soon," Lucian warned, his hand tightening around her waist like an iron vise to keep her in place. He clicked his tongue, and the stallion broke into a steady, rhythmic trot, heading away from the bloody hunting grounds and up the path to the fortress.
"I’d rather break my neck in the snow than sit here touching you," she spat, tilting her head back to glare at him.
Lucian glanced down at her, his dark eyes brimming with amused contempt as he took in her red, scraped cheek and the flushed skin of her neck. "You have a remarkable amount of spit for someone who was ten minutes away from becoming a trophy on Garth’s wall."
"I had Coyle’s nose broken and Garth’s squad trembling before you interfered," she countered sharply. "I didn't ask for your help."
"Help?" Lucian chuckled, a deep, rumble that made her squirm uncomfortably. "Is that what you think this is? Salvation?"
"I know what it is," Evangeline gritted out, her heels digging into the horse's flanks in another futile attempt to get away from his touch. "You took a target to assert dominance over Thomas. You're using me to prove a point to the elders, aren’t you?."
Lucian’s fingers twitched against her ribs, his voice dropping into a mocking drawl. "You give yourself too much credit. You're just a wolf-less defective with an insufferable mouth. But if it makes you feel better, your little trial tonight wasn't a matter of bad luck."
Evangeline went still, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
"The roster," Lucian said casually, adjusting his grip on the reins as the stallion navigated a narrow, snow dusted mountain trail. "You honestly believed Elder Thomas put you on the Hunt list because you couldn't manifest a wolf?"
"He said pack law dictates registered laborers—"
"Thomas lies," Lucian interrupted dryly. "Though I suppose you already knew that part. What you don't know is the price tag on your head."
A nauseating pit formed in Evangeline’s stomach at the mention of those words that caused he brain to start piecing things together. "What price tag?"
"A nice big pouch of southern silver coins," Lucian revealed smoothly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "And a written exemption from the seasonal tax for his own sons’ properties. Your uncle didn't just throw you to the wolves, Evangeline. He sold your prey badge to the highest bidder two days ago."
The words hit her so hard she almost fell of the horse. Yes, she had never really trusted her uncle, in fact, she had known Thomas hated her. She had known he wanted her father's eastern ridge land patents all for himself.
But hearing that her eighteen years of endless labor, cooking, scrubbing, and mending had been traded away for a simple bag of silver, that she’d let herself be deluded that a vile man like that still considered her family to some point as to not sell of his own kin…
It made her blood boil.
Her hands trembled within the iron bindings. Heartbreak flared for a brief second, only to be instantly consumed by a wave of anger and hatred.
"So silver," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Forty large dazzling pieces, to be exact," Lucian added, watching the subtle shifts in her posture with dark fascination. "Not a terrible price for a human servant, all things considered."
"When I get out of these cuffs," Evangeline spat, her voice dropping in venomous promise, "I am going to tear his head off his shoulders. I’m going to take that godforsaken silver and shove it down his retched throat. I swear, I’ll burn this entire pack down while I’m at it.”
Lucian didn't laugh this time. He slowed the horse as they reached the crest of the hill, overlooking a massive stone fortress carved directly into the dark mountain face. Torches burned along the towering perimeter walls, casting menacing shadows across the snow.
He leaned forward slightly, his mouth brushing the delicate shell of her ear. His breath was hot, smelling of crisp winter air and underlying ozone.
"I look forward to watching you try, little rabbit," he whispered softly, his lips almost grazing her skin.
Before she could reply, he snapped the reins, and the stallion galloped down the sloping path, carrying them straight through the heavily guarded iron gates of the estate.
