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It is a man’s world in which we live, Skraeda, her queen had told her, in that calming voice of hers. Let them think us lambs, when truly, we are wolves.
“Because it takes a small man to be ruled by fear and a large one to show mercy. And anyone can see you are no small man.”
“Malla’s tits,” muttered Rey, dragging a hand down his face. “Tell me she did not just apologize to a rock.”
Tears filled Silla’s eyes, and she hugged herself tightly. “Are you certain? You truly wish to risk yourselves for me?” Hekla strode to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Of course, dúlla. We take care of our own.”
“Not killing you when I discovered you in our wagon will be a thing I regret until my last breath.”
Jonas would ensure that Ilías’s death was not meaningless. That he was not made a fool. That this woman got everything she deserved.
Bro wtf
I warned you, Curls. I’m not a good man. You should have listened. Hekla had warned her. The little girl had warned her. Jonas himself had warned her. Why hadn’t she listened?
Rey eased back into the woods. She escaped, he thought, his heart swelling. Somehow, this did not surprise him. She was clever, his girl. A survivor.
His girl 🥹
all this time, she’d been searching for a place to feel safe, but what if she’d been looking at it all wrong? What if safety was not a place, but a person?
