“Dangerous,” I finished for him. “Yes, I got that. The question is, why are there four horses when there are five of us?”
“You know how to ride a horse?” Niamh asked with a glance of surprise my way. “I thought Oberon didn’t let you have any.”
“He doesn’t,” I admitted. “But I can manage.”
“No, you can’t.” The Mist King’s hands cupped my waist, and he lifted me from the ground. I smacked at his arms, burning up from where the heat of him invaded my leather armor. I could feel the strength of his hands, the thrum of his power. After he’d plopped me on top of the horse, one leg on either side, his touch lingered for a second longer than necessary.
“This is ridiculous,” I said with a roll of my eyes, trying to ignore the slight uptick in my heartbeat. “Honestly, what’s the big deal? You just sit on the horse, and it takes you somewhere.”
Alastair laughed, climbing up on his steed beside us. “These beasts are too wild for that. They’ll throw you off and charge away if they sense any uncertainty or inexperience in you.”
“I can bedecisive,” I insisted.
The Mist King swung up onto the horse, settling in behind me. His substantial chest shifted against my back as he reached an arm on either side of me to grab the reins. I scowled as his hands settled onto my thighs, just above my knees. The heat and power of him pressed into me.
Something within me clenched.
“This is not necessary,” I said hotly as the group flicked their reins, and the horses took off into an alarmingly fast canter. The ground jolted beneath me as we tore through the mists, the cool wind snatching at my hair.
I clung to the horse’s coarse mane. We were moving so fast, the mist clouded my eyes, causing a steady stream of tears. As we galloped ahead, the Mist King kept my thighs firmly trapped beneath his steady hands. I shifted slightly to the side when we hit an unexpected ditch, and my hands slipped off the mane.
But his hands kept me steady.
I wanted to hate every moment of this. He was rude and monstrous and cruel and murderous and hateful and…also very muscular and strong. The wind blew his wintry scent into my nose, and the steady thrum of his body against my back chased away the anxious nerves. But only because I didn’t want to die, of course.
I really needed to learn how to ride these horses so I would never have to do this again.
He leaned forward and pressed his mouth so close to my ear that a tremor went down my neck. “Relax. I’m not going to let you fall off.”
“No, because then I wouldn’t be alive to do your bidding,” I snapped back.
There. That was better. Gone were the thoughts about how comforting and strong he was. He was those things, but that didn’t erase everything else.
“That’s right,” he said with a dark laugh that shot his breath against my neck. I pressed my lips together. “If you die, neither one of us gets what we want. So you will stay safely tucked here against my chest where I can stop Midnight from launching you into the mists where you’d have to fend for yourself. Or is that what you’d prefer, Tessa?”
Damn him, he was obnoxious. “I’m stronger than you think I am.”
“You might be right, but there are some things you need to learn.” His hands tensed against me once more when we hit another bump. “We need to train you to use that dagger.”
“I know how to fight,” I said with a scowl. “I hit Oberon square in the chest when I tried to kill him before. If I’d had the Mortal Blade, he’d be dead.”
“Confident.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Regardless of how well you fared before, I want to train you. You won’t be able to catch him off guard the same way you did before. In fact, if he sees you coming, he’ll likely expect an attack. You ran from him. He won’t trust you when you go back.”
I snorted. “All I have to do is apologize and massage his ego. I’ll tell him I went out into the mists, realized how stupid it was to run, and then I’ll offer myself back up to him. I’m his betrothed. He won’t kill me.”
“He won’t kill you, but he might…” His chest stiffened against my back. “There are other things he could do to you.”
My hands fisted tighter around the horse’s mane. When I spoke, my voice was barely a whisper. “Yes, I know.”
“We need to train you,” he said again, his voice more insistent. “I won’t let you step one foot on that bridge until we can be certain you know how to defend yourself. Hecannotharm you again.”
A strange sensation fluttered in my belly. The Mist King only spoke that way because I’d be no use to him if I got caught. Tortured and ridiculed. Broken down. The first thing the light fae would do was take that dagger away from me. And thenno onewould be able to kill King Oberon, especially not me.
The passion in his words had nothing to do with my actual well-being. I was just the Mist King’s tool, like I’d been for King Oberon.
A forest rose up before us, its trees’ gnarled fingers stretching toward the sky, vacant and whistling in the wind. Their slate-gray bark blended in with the shadows. As the horses thundered into the rotting brush, dread curled through me. There was a strange presence to this place, like watchful eyes tracked our every movement in the woods.
I found myself leaning just a little farther back to feel the Mist King there.