The Forsaken King
Page 22
“The ground?”
Ian turned around and gave me a cocked eyebrow.
Then it came to me. “The cliff…”
Ian faced forward again. “You should have figured that out a long time ago.”
Now I understood. We were going to the bottom of the cliff. “What’s down there?”
Ian released a laugh. “What’s down there? Are you serious?”
Was I missing something? “Would I risk insult if I weren’t serious?”
“She doesn’t know.” Mastodon’s deep voice came from behind me. “Of course she doesn’t. Too busy sneaking boys into her room and being waited on hand and foot by her servants.”
So, he had seen Quinn. “You think you know me?” I turned around and met his look of wrath with my own. “You watched me for a week, and you think that’s enough to tell you everything you need to know?”
He came closer, the torch illuminating his dark face. “Yes.” He stopped directly in front of me. “The warm sun hits your face and blinds you to the truth right before your eyes. You’re too naïve, too stupid to see the blood directly beneath your feet.”
I shook my head slightly, having no idea what he was talking about. “I’m sorry about your mother—”
His hand shot out to my neck instantly, his fingers getting a good grip in a flash. “Don’t talk about her.” He gave me a hard shove.
I lost my footing instantly and rolled down the incline, moving between the men and hitting the curve in the wall down below. My back struck it with a thud, and then I jerked up, the world still spinning slightly.
“Do not talk about my mother.” The torch in his hand illuminated the way, bringing him closer to me. “Don’t speak with empathy when you have none. Don’t pretend to care about the shoulders you stand on.” His boots thudded every time they hit the ground, echoing against the walls. “Don’t pretend you’re any less vile than the bastard who took everything from me.”
My back was so sore.
But I’d let hell freeze over before I complained.
Time and distance couldn’t be measured, so I wasn’t sure what made them decide to stop for the night. Just general fatigue? Some internal clock? In the curve of the wall, they settled for the night, unrolling their bedrolls and getting ready for sleep.
Mastodon got his bed ready but didn’t climb inside. Instead, he leaned up against the wall, an arm propped on his knee again, looking intense and bored at the same time. When I moved to the other wall, he gave a quiet whistle then nodded to the bedroll.
“I’m sorry, do I look like a dog to you?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
“Asshole.”
“Get in the bedroll.” He had this look I’d never seen before, with which he could command anyone to do anything by sheer force alone. He had the most intimidating stare I’d ever seen. Even on my father’s worst day, he didn’t look like that.
I was too cold to be defiant right now, so I got into the bedroll.
It was nice to have a warm ass for once.
The men immediately went down for the night, and Mastodon kept watch as if he wasn’t the least bit tired. He pulled an apple from his pocket and took a big bite as he looked down the dark pathway.
The blanket was to my neck, locking my own body heat around me to keep me warm. It wasn’t much, but it made all the difference in the world. With his eyes elsewhere, I stared at the side of his face. He had short blond hair, really short, and his look was so innately angry. Even the area where his jaw connected to his neck was tight with tension. Now that I knew what he looked like underneath his clothing and armor, I realized he didn’t need the plates and vambraces to buff up his appearance. His body was a weapon in itself. “I asked Burke what was down there…and he said he didn’t know.”
He took another bite, ignoring what I said.
“Before I left, Ryker seemed worried…like he knew something.”
“Because your brother isn’t an idiot—unlike you.”
All I ever received from him were insults, so I was numb to it at this point. “What’s at the bottom of the cliff?”
He took another bite and chewed. “Me.”
“You…live down there?”
He continued to chew.
“How?” I asked. “I was told it’s uninhabitable.”
“Which it is.”
“Then…how?”
He turned his head back to me, his gaze cold like the ice crystals in the wall. “With a heart full of revenge.” He returned to his apple and took the final bite, leaving nothing but the slender core behind.
“Why are you taking me down there? If all you want is to kill me, you could have butchered me right in front of my father. Why drag me on this escapade? How does this serve your plan?”
He tossed the core aside and ignored me.