“We’ve barely ridden half a day, and we have much further than that to go.”
“How far?” I tried.
He grunted.
With an exasperated sigh, I glanced down at his gloved hands. They sat on either side of me, his arms resting on my thighs. If I weren’t trapped in place—and bound by ropes, of course—I could probably get a good head start by leaping off the horse.
“My butt hurts,” I said, wincing as the motion beneath me continued. It turned out that riding a horse was pretty painful. My thighs were being rubbed raw, though I didn’t know how to explain that to him without going into the kind of detail that would turn my cheeks bright red.
“In an hour we’ll reach the River of Darkness. We can stop there and make camp for the night,” he said firmly. “Here is not a good place.”
I glanced around. Here seemed as good a place as any. Nothing about this stretch of forest stood out as any different than the rest of it we’d passed so far. Looming trees, thick with moisture, and glistening leaves dripping with remnants of a recent rain shower. Thick brush lined each side of a skinny dirt path. Tiny insects darted through the humid air, their little red wings a flash of color beneath the sun.
Every so often, the path would branch to the left or the right. I could see clearings down some of them, places where others had made camp. The brush smoothed away, leaving only packed dirt, wooden huts, and the remnants of fire pits.
There’d been at least half a dozen of these things so far. We could have stopped at any of them. I had a feeling Yuto was taking pleasure in my discomfort.
Another hour stretched by, and the distant sun began to dip behind the canopy of trees. The gurgle of a stream rose up to meet the orchestra of the birds and insects. Yuto swerved left down a fork in the path, leading us to a clearing that sat along the bank of a babbling river.
The river shimmered, reflecting the oranges and pinks of the sunset sky. Tiny fish darted through the waters, their green and gold fins flashing through the clear blue. Yuto hopped to the ground, and then pulled me into his arms. My heart froze as my hands flailed, landing on his shoulders. Somehow, I had ended up smooshed against his chest. We were so close that I could feel his heartbeat.
Swallowing hard, I stared into his eyes. Danger flashed in his irises. He was the enemy. He’d captured me. And I hated him for it. I couldn’t wait to get away from him as soon as I got the chance. I’d throw another skull at his head if I could find one. His lips curved into a smile as he held me flat against his chest, my feet hovering off the ground.
“Put me down,” I said, my voice coming out far more hoarse than I’d intended. He’d just caught me off guard was all.
“If I put you down, you’ll try to run,” he murmured.
“You have me tied up.”
“Tell me, Aradia.” He drawled out my name, giving a lyrical sound to it. “How long have you been on the run from your prince?”
“He’s not my prince,” I said.
He arched a brow. “Isn’t he?”
I squirmed against his chest and barely moved. Damn, this dragonlord was strong. “Not really. It’s a long story.”
“Luckily, we’ll have time for you to tell it.” His smile widened. “I want to know all about Aradia Galatas and what makes her tick.”
He lowered me to the ground and stepped back, but he kept a tight hold on the end of the rope. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.
“Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Is this some sort of game to you?”
“Because the more I know,” he said easily, “the better I’ll understand how long it will take the portal to let you back through.”
“Right. It all goes back to that again,” I muttered. “I’m never going through it, Yuto.”
“We’ll see.”
He sounded so sure and smug that I wanted to smack the smile right off his face. Instead, all I could do was stand there with my wrists bound together, watching as he unpacked supplies from his leather satchel. He pulled a small hunting knife out and strapped it to his side, and then munched on a few nuts without offering me a damn thing. My stomach growled.
“How far is your home from here?” I asked after too many moments spent in silence.
“It’s not my home.”
I rolled my eyes. Right. Because he was some sort of magical prisoner, trapped here just like I was. “Okay. Then, how far is the place you’re taking me? Your…prison? Your cell?”
“It’s not a cell. And I’d rather not say.”
With a sigh, I tried to cross my arms over my chest, having already forgotten that he’d bound my wrists together. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly infuriating?”
His lips twitched. “Not recently, no.”
“Ah, so someone must have a long time ago,” I said, edging closer. “Is that how you ended up here?”
He sighed and glanced up from his pack. “Aradia, you—”
“Ask far too many questions,” I finished for him. “So you’ve said.”
“And it appears you enjoy interrupting others as well.” He strode away from his horse, yanking me along with him. My feet almost tripped over a tiny log left behind by previous travellers. Yuto knelt beside a charred circle in the center of the clearing, wiped his fingers across the cold coals, and then sniffed.
“At the risk of asking yet another question, why are you sniffing the ground?”
“My sense of smell is better than yours,” he murmured, his eyes cast on the horizon as if he were deep in thought. “This gives me an indication of who was here and how long ago.”
“And that matters?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh yes.” He twisted to glance up at me. His eyes were dark and full of dread. “It matters very much.”
I shivered. I couldn’t help myself. Even though I knew exactly what he was doing, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work on me. He wanted to scare me. If I was scared, I wouldn’t run off. Maybe if I were someone else, that is. He’d never met a Galatas before. We didn’t scare easily.
“There are others here like you, isn’t there?” It was a question, but I already knew the answer.
“Not exactly.”
“I don’t mean other dragonlords,” I countered, “but other prisoners. Others who have been trapped here. Others who have done something wrong.”
He growled and pushed up from the ground with a speed that made my breath catch. “I have done nothing wrong. Unlike you, little métoikos.”
I bristled at his words. A very small part of me had a logical reaction to this tall, towering, powerful beast of a male who could probably break me in half if he wanted. But another part of me—the part that was all Galatas, through and through—hauled back my foot and kicked Yuto in the shin as hard as I could. I winced when my boot made contact with his leg. He was as immovable as a rock. And well…my foot wasn’t.
Yuto’s upper lip curled, and he yanked me hard against his chest. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
“I don’t like your stupid nickname for me,” I snapped back. “My name is Aradia. Not little métoikos. I’m more than just a little mortal.”