I may never see him again. I may die tonight.

But I die knowing that truth, and knowing the taste of freedom it gave me.

In the distance, there are dots of light puncturing the shadows.

Sebastian’s men.

My heart sinks.

James pulls the reins abruptly, and the horse halts. I inhale sharply, wondering why we’ve stopped.

He whistles, then dismounts and strides over to someone who is on horseback. My eyebrows raise when I realize it is a female soldier. She hands something to him, a strap of some kind, and he walks back toward me.

“Off the horse,” he says.

Pulse racing, I slide down. My legs are shaky when my feet hit the earth.

The rest of his men linger on the grassy land behind, waiting for their king’s orders to ride onward.

James pulls a knife out of his belt, and I step away—my back hitting the horse’s body. The sharp blade glints in the moonlight with the same dangerous intent that glitters in his eyes.

His jaw is clenched, and every muscle in his body is taut as he steps toward me.

He looks angry. Furious. A monster of a man.

A king of Wolves.

My breathing quickens.

He crouches by my feet, pressing one knee into the muddy earth. He hoists up my skirt.

Cold terror seeps through my bones, freezing me in place even though my mind is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here—letting him do whatever he wants with me.

He slips a holster around my thigh and tightens it, before sliding in the knife. The cold weight of it presses against my skin. He releases me, letting the fabric of my skirt cover me once more.

His eyes snap up to mine. They’re the same shape as Callum’s but darker, and sterner.

“I do this for my brother, not for you. At least I can say I gave you a chance. My men will still attack. If by some means Sebastian gets away with you, if you kill him, I will allow you back into my kingdom.”

I swallow, then nod. A small knife is not much against an army. But it is better than nothing. And if I get the chance, I will gladly sink it into Sebastian’s heart.

“Thank you,” I say.

He inclines his head, then rises to his full height. “Back on the horse.”

He hoists me up, then mounts behind me.

We ride onward.

***

It is not long before we stop at the edge of the valley.

The moon bathes the land below in white light, washing the color from the grass, and turning the heather silver. Up here, we are concealed by tall trees that spill down the mountainside—enveloped by shadows and the scent of pine.

I spot torchlight in the valley below. Borderlands men await.

James sends one of his men down there to check Sebastian is among them, and to confirm they have the Heart of the Moon—fake or otherwise.

“How do you know they won’t just slaughter you when you ride down?” I say.

“Because I know Sebastian. And I have the daughter of their king.”

“I think you overestimate my value.”

“Let’s hope not.” His voice is curt—almost a warning—and signals the end of our conversation.

The rider comes back ten minutes later, and nods at James before re-joining the army.

Nerves twist in my stomach.

“What if he’s brought the real Heart of the Moon with him?” I ask.

I hear the menacing smile in James’s voice. “Then we shift, and it will turn out to be a very quick battle indeed.”

He looks over his shoulder at his men.

“I want ten of you to ride down with me for the exchange. The rest, wait on my signal.”

“What’s the signal?” calls a male from within the trees.

“Southern screams,” says James.

The soldiers laugh and jeer.

“Let’s get you back to your betrothed, shall we?” says James.

He digs his heels into the horse and my stomach drops.

We descend into the valley where Sebastian awaits.

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Chapter Fifty-Six

Want is a strange thing.

If you feed it, it gets hungrier and it grows. You find yourself wanting more and more and more—your appetite never quite sated. If you starve it, it fades away. It shrivels, and dies, until it’s nothing at all.

When I was a young, I wanted things. I wanted to be lady of a grand house, or even a queen. I wanted a husband who loved me. I wanted to help my people.

After my mother died, I just wanted to endure.

Then, one day, I wanted nothing at all.

I lived like that for a long time. My life was passive, meandering, meaningless.

But I am not an empty husk anymore.

I want to get through this. I want to escape. I want the life in Highfell that Callum promised. I want freedom. I want vengeance.

I want.

“You will pay for this,” I whisper.

“I doubt that very much, Princess,” growls James in response.

Princess. The title sounds foul on his tongue.

I look into the endless sky as we ride into the valley. If the stories are true, the Moon herself is a prisoner—sentenced by the Sun, and shackled by Night.

We are not so different, you and I. I send the thought to her on the winds that whip my hair and stir the trees. Give me strength. Give me courage. Let me prevail.

And then, there is no more time for prayers.

Sebastian is waiting. He’s like a dark specter in the swaying grass and he’s flanked by ten of his men. The moonlight paints his skin a sickly white, and reflects off the threads of grey in his dark hair, which is tied at the nape of his neck.

A man on one side of him is holding a box. On his other side is a large man with scars all over his face and neck.

Behind him, there is an army that vastly outnumbers the Northlands Wolves, their silver star sigils glinting in the ghostly light.

James pulls on the reins and we halt. Silence sweeps over the valley. Even the wind stops whispering.

He dismounts from the horse and I take a shuddery breath. Before James can grab me, I jump down myself. I land hard on the grass, the force of the impact juddering up my ankle, but I do not show it on my face.

Whatever my fate, I will face it on my own terms.

I turn away from the Wolf King, and straighten.

Sebastian’s lips twist into a thin smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

“My sweet betrothed.” His voice is as cold as the Northlands air. “Are you well?”

Nausea rolls through me. The knife James gave me burns into my outer thigh. I make a silent vow that I will use it when I get the chance. I raise my chin. “Yes.”

“Thank goodness. I was so worried. Have they defiled you?”

For a moment, I wonder what would happen if I said yes.

I wonder what would happen if I told him, in front of all his men, that just twelve hours ago, I took my pleasure from the brother of the Wolf King. That he spilled inside me, and made me cry out with release. That he held me in his arms, and was going to take me to his home. That I love him. I choose him. I want him.

My heartbeat resounds in my ears, daring me to do it.

“No.” James’s voice is low and gruff behind me.

Sebastian doesn’t acknowledge the Wolf King. It is as if he is beneath him. Instead, he looks at the man with scars who stands beside him.

James tenses ever so slightly. I remember what he said about Sebastian having Wolves working for him. With his wild, pale hair, muscles, and scars, I wonder if this male is one of them.

He steps closer, his shadow swallowing me, and sniffs me.

Do it, I will him. Tell them. Tell Sebastian I cannot be his virgin bride.

The corner of the male’s lip twitches—just for a moment. I almost wonder if I imagined it. He nods.