by Helene Gadot
His smile melded into a frown. "What?"
"What?" I cleared my throat and turned my attention to my feet instead of him.
"Why were you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" I played dumb, not at all interested in explaining. He'd probably never smile again if I told him.
"Like...nevermind." He huffed. "We need to get moving."
I smothered a grin and followed him back towards the trail.
We reached the edge of Harpot right before midday. Whist dug around in his pack and pulled out a fancy embroidered dress and handed it to me.
I frowned down at it with distaste. "What is this for?"
He shook it at me. "I told you we needed to be in disguise. Apparently, you never wear dresses."
Apparently my file wasn't quite as thin as I'd hoped. "Because they're uncomfortable and make it difficult to run when people are chasing you."
"No one is going to be chasing you today. You need to do something different with your hair as well."
I tug on the end of my usual braid. "Any suggestions? I'm not very good at fixing hair."
"I'll take care of it when I get back."
"Where are you going?" I took the dress from him with a wrinkled nose.
"I'm going to do a quick recon of the village and see what's going on."
"You're not in disguise. If there are guards, won't they recognize you?" I was oddly reluctant to part from him.
He pulled out a black hooded cape. "I'm an assassin. I know how to be invisible. I'll change into something else when I return." He didn't give me a chance to argue further, instead he proved his words by fading away into the trees.
With a sigh, I stripped off my cloak and shirt and yanked the dress down over my head. It was a forest green, the same shade as my eyes and my usual cloak, with fancy gold stitching. It was pretty, but already my ribs felt crushed and it was harder to breathe.
Music was my life, I hated anything constricting my breathing. My breasts were all but falling from the bodice no matter how much I tried to stuff them inside. Whoever the dress belonged to was a wee bit smaller than me.
I left my trousers and my boots on. The dress hid any sign and it kept my legs warm. Women's clothing made no sense to me. My cold fingers unraveled my braid, combing out the tangles in my dark wavy hair.
A snapping twig at my back spun me around to find Whist standing there. "How do you do that?"
"Training." His eyes widened as he took me in. "You definitely don't look like yourself."
"Not even a little." I scowled down at my heaving bosom. Ridiculous. Why would anyone voluntarily wear something so awful?
"We were informed about your green cloak, so you can borrow my black one." He tossed it to me and stripped from his clothes.
"What about you?" I gathered my loose belongings and returned them to my pack, keeping my attention down, telling myself not to watch.
I took a quick peek, then breathed a little easier when I found him dressed. Whist had transformed from an assassin into a farmer. He had on tan trousers clinging to his muscular legs and a dark brown sweater. There was the man who belonged in a garden digging in the dirt.
"I'll be fine. You have goosebumps." He gestured at my chest.
I hefted my bad over my shoulder. "Do I want to know where you got this dress?"
"Probably not."
I snorted. 'Whoever she was, she had terrible taste."
"Agreed."
My brows shot high with surprise. "You don't like it?"
"You look gorgeous as always, but I prefer you in your usual clothes." He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. Like he hadn't just poured warmth right through me. "What?"
He had no idea, the gift he'd given me. "Nothing."
"All right. Let's move. Remember. What I say, you do." He certainly knew how to ruin a moment.
TWENTY
Harpot was a town I had yet to perform in, so I shouldn't be recognized. It looked like every other village in Faligrey, the markets were the same, the simple shops selling fabrics and hardware, the rows of homes, the wooden sidewalks and dirt roads. The villages closer to the palace were more elaborate, or so I'd heard. I'd been saving up money and planning to make the trip in the spring. Which was now a death warrant.
Whistler escorted me to one of the three taverns in Harpot. We chose seats in the back corner where we could see and hear everyone else, but as long as we were quiet, no one could hear us.
A server approached and smiled at us. "New in town?"
"Just visiting." Whist's eyes roved across the room.
"What can I get the two of you? We have a real nice steak and wild mushroom soup." The server gestured over his shoulder at the kitchen door.
Whist raised his brows at me in question and I nodded. "Sounds good. Two and some fresh bread and coffees, please."
"Right away." The server bustled away.
I leaned closer to Whist, stealing a quick sniff of his scent. "That's not my favorite either."
"As delicious as I hope it is, that would be a boring choice. I'm pretty certain it's a dessert. I noticed you seem to enjoy sweets." He didn't stop searching the crowd of diners.
I shrugged. "I don't get sweets very often. Most of my diet was tinned food before you."
Whist shuddered. "Never again as long as you stay with us."
"Trying to bribe me to stick around?" I asked it in a teasing tone, but I wondered if he was.
He met my eyes, utterly serious. "I'll do whatever I need to to convince you to choose us."
I gulped, tears clogging my throat. "I'll keep that in mind." My voice was raw and hoarse.
"Good." So was his.
The server returned, breaking up our moment, and I relaxed some while we turned our attention to the food. The soup was good, but I had apparently been spoiled by Whistler. It wasn't as flavorful as his cooking, just hearty and plain and filling.
I still scraped up every drop while we perked our ears to listen to the other patrons. No one mentioned the royal guards, musicians, or the king. It was the usual gossip and complaints and pleasantries.
Whist leaned over in the booth so his words wouldn't be overheard. "Nothing. It seems like the guard hasn't come here looking for you. Which makes no sense. It's the second closest village to the one you performed in last time and they were crawling through that one. Why aren't they here?"
I agreed. It didn't make sense. "Maybe since I disappeared, they assumed I ran. Or went farther than the closest village?"
He didn't seem convinced. "Maybe. They still should have at least checked though."
"You're just grumpy because this means I get to perform. We'll know for sure then."
An expression of resignation crossed his face. "Go ahead and ask. Let's get this over with."
Whist disappeared after the tavern owner agreed to let me play for the cost of our meal. I considered negotiating for a little coin as well, but it was more important I play than to tuck away a little more money in preparation for a rainy day.
Instead of using one of my extra instruments, I sat on a stool with nothing but my ukulele. Thankfully, it was a common instrument for musicians. Especially traveling ones because the small size made it easy to transport.
I made sure it was still in tune after its trip there and then plunged into a ballad, one not as popular as it used to be, but if I couldn't play what I really wanted, I could still play my mother's favorite song. She and Papa used to dance to this song after Papa taught it to me, laughing and kissing in the candlelight. It was one of my few bright memories of them before poverty and sickness turned everything gray.
I barely finished the song and moved into the next one before a couple royal guards walked in with their deep purple uniforms pressed and clean, their brass buttons shiny like new.
I made sure my eyes passed right over them, not showing the nervousness fluttering in my belly. Where had Whist run off to? The guards kept their eyes trained on me, but didn't approach, instead movi
ng to take a seat and order some food.
A large part of me was tempted to play my treasonous songs, to sing it right in their faces. Rage at the king and his loyal lapdogs banished any hint of nerves. But Whistler was somewhere nearby and he'd be caught in the crossfire if I tried anything or tipped my hand.
And I was growing rather fond of the grumpy assassin and didn't want his death on my conscience.
Instead, I started another song, a more current one. The patrons began to sing along, joining their voices with mine. This was something I missed, something I didn't often get to experience since I perform so many originals.
There was something powerful in so many voices raised together in harmony. If I could recreate this magic with one of my treasonous songs, we could change the world.
My hour of playing ended, and I slid off the stool to applause. That was new. And a little disconcerting. I'd never done this for acclamation, but I had to admit it was rather nice.
The tavern owner smiled and handed me a couple coins. Also new. Guessed he appreciated my efforts. And the money spent as people lingered over their meals.
Assuming Whist would find me once he was ready, I left the tavern. And the guards filed out after me.
TWENTY-ONE
More guards waited for me outside. In seconds, they surrounded me.
"Can I help you?" I blinked up at them, the picture of innocence.
"What's your name?" One of the guards from inside the tavern asked me.
"Dahlia." The name fell from my lips without thought as I remembered Saber's words from the night before. Seemed appropriate since I apparently smelled like the cool weather flower.
Another guard stepped up to his comrade's side. "Your occupation is a traveling bard?"
"It is. Has that become a crime?" I was unable to keep the question from tumbling from my mouth, but I tried to make it sound saucy.
The second guard apparently took over the interrogation and the first one blends back with the others. "It depends. What sort of music do you play?"
Their questions were gathering a crowd as villagers slowed and craned their necks to watch.
I frowned in pretend confusion. "Weren't you inside? I play all sorts of music."
"But nothing seditious?"
This was getting ridiculous. Were they going to arrest me or just ask stupid questions? No wonder the king decided he needed assassins. His guards were idiots. "What would even be considered seditious? Faligrey has freedom of expression."
"Do you sing against kindred souls or the king?"
I gasped and clasped a hand to my chest. "Of course not. Why on earth would I sing against kindreds? Part of the reason I chose this occupation is to search for my kindred."
"You haven't found yours?" The guards were softening, and the one questioning me was beginning to sound bored. How many times had they done this?
I shook my head sadly and forced a pout onto my lips. "No." I wished I knew where one of my kindreds were at the moment, but I was too scared to look for him in case it gave us away.
"Who was that man with you earlier?"
Shit, we should have considered having a better plan in place. "My brother." Hopefully Whist hadn't been questioned and given different answers.
"Where is he now?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not his keeper. He travels with me in search of his own kindred and to keep me safe."
"So, you don't travel alone?" He stepped forward like he was trying to intimidate me.
"No." I shook my head. "It wouldn't be safe for me to travel all by myself with no one to protect me." I was probably laying it on a bit thick, but I was growing impatient.
"Have you heard of a bard named Rhapsody?"
I bobbed my head in an enthusiastic nod. "I've heard of her, but I've never met her."
"Are you sure?" The guard's eyes narrowed on me.
"Of course I'm sure. Our line of work tends to be pretty solitary. If another bard is in town, I move on. What is this about?" It was time to start being a nosy, curious woman.
"Not important."
"Is she in some sort of trouble? Has she broken the law?" I pressed a hand to my chest again. Whoever I was pretending to be was ridiculous and I had never seen a woman actually act like it, but they were lapping it up. Idiots.
He cleared his throat. "Like I said, it's not important. Or your business."
"All right. Can I go now? I need to track down my brother if we want to make it to the next village before nightfall." I glanced up at the sky like I was checking the time.
"You can go. It might be a good time to take a little time off." His words were dark with warning. It would probably be smart to listen.
"I'll keep that in mind. Have a nice rest of your day."
He gave me a sharp nod and turned on his heel, his comrades trailing in his wake. I waited until they turned the corner before I hurried towards the woods. I needed to get out of there as soon as possible.
I didn't stop until I made it twenty minutes away from the village, tripping through brush instead of staying on the trail. Dropping my pack, I stopped and bent over, hands on my knees, and panted for breath.
A body crashed into me and slammed me into a tree.
TWENTY-TWO
I struggled until I recognized my assassin. "Whistler. What was that?"
"Are you all right?" The question growled from him.
"I'm fine." What was wrong with him?
He remained tense and kept me pinned against the tree. "I saw you surrounded by guards and I couldn't reach you without causing a bloodbath. Then, they let you go."
"They did. They had no idea I was myself. Your disguise worked. I'm okay."
His grip on me still didn't soften. "I would have killed every single one of them if they'd tried to take you."
I had counted on it. "I know." I pushed my body into his and rested my hands on his shoulders, tilting my head up to see him properly.
His lips slammed down on mine, ravaging my mouth, pressing me harder into the trunk of the tree. I could taste his desperation, his fear, his need.
Mine bubbled up to match his.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist as I opened up to him. A violent sound rumbled through his chest as he reached up to grasp a handful of my hair. He yanked my head to the side and nipped down my throat, his facial hair scraping my tender flesh. He hadn't shaved that morning. Tendrils of pain morphed into pleasure as his pelvis ground into mine. The bark bit into my back, adding to the sensations.
He jerked back, his eyes wild. "You have to stop me. I can't. I'll hurt you."
His control was snapped. Thrills shot down my spine. Here was the real Whistler, stripped of masks.
I tried to pull him back to me. "You won't hurt me."
He remained stiff and distant. "You don't understand. I can't hold back."
"I don't want you to." Dammit, Whistler. If he didn't hurry, I'd change my mind.
He paused and pulled back a little more so he could see my face. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"
What I hoped was a seductive smile spread across my swollen lips. "Why don't you do your worst and find out?"
Wildfire burned through his eyes, banishing the usual calm and welcoming starlight. He yanked the bodice of my dress down with such force I heard a rip. Hated the dress anyway. My breasts spilled from the binding fabric and into his waiting hands.
His lips returned to mine while his fingers plucked and pinched my nipples, twisting them harshly. Another new experience for me and it almost shamed me how much I loved it. My pussy clenched with need and I cried out into his mouth, rubbing against him.
Whistler released my lips to bury his teeth in the crook of my neck. My fingers dug deeper into his shoulders as I burned, burned, burned. Every nip, every lick, every kiss, every touch sent fire scorching through me.
The sun trickled through the leaves, casting half of his face in shadows, the other half making his auburn hair flicker like
flames, a demon sent to drag me off to hell.
I was more than willing to be dragged wherever he wished.
Unlike Saber, Whistler didn't whisper sweet nothings into my ear. He grunted and groaned and bit and pinched.
He yanked me away from the tree and my legs fell away from his waist. He spun me around and shoved me down to the ground on my hands and knees, falling to his own knees behind me.
My hands flexed against the grass and soil as Whist flung the skirts of my dress up, cursing when he found the trousers beneath it. He pulled off first my boots, and then the pants until the cool air teased my ass.
His hands stroked my backside, warming me up. I pushed back against him, demanding more.
Whistler brought his palm down sharply against my left cheek. "Patience."
I moaned and wiggled again, craving his harsh touch. He struck me again, fire spreading from my ass to my core. And again. And once more until I was positively soaked.
His fingers dipped into my wet folds, teasing my clit before he plunged them deep within me without warning. My cry echoed around us when he prodded and teased that special soft spot inside me. Another stroke, and then he was replacing his fingers with something much larger, something perhaps even larger than Saber's.
With a growl, Whist slammed all the way into me to the hilt, stretching me almost past my limits. I rode the edge of pleasure and pain as he fucked me hard and fast there in the dirt.
He spanked me again between thrusts, sharper smacks making me clench around him and push back against him. Our grunts and groans and the sounds of flesh slapping against each other were the only sounds in the woods around us. Even the birds were quiet, probably enjoying the show. He sank deep inside me, reaching a depth no one had ever plundered before.
Whist picked up his pace and reached around me to grab handfuls of my breasts, taking my nipples between his fingers and stretching them with such force, I felt it all the way to my pussy. My entire body flushed with roaring heat and a trembling began in my toes and swept through the rest of me. The fire flamed hotter and hotter until I swore I would combust and leave nothing but ashes behind.