Captivated by her.

It took all his effort to reach up, take hold of the canvas, and drag it closed. Darkness fell over his face once again. He was painfully aware of the change in his heart rate as he let go of the fabric and retreated to the campfire.

CHAPTER 8

Alarm might have been Isabel’s first reaction when she spotted Blackmane’s face through the gap in the tent, but it had been short-lived. Something in his expression had put her at ease. His dark eyes had looked a golden brown beneath the soft light spilling from the tent. There had been tenderness in that gaze as it moved over her scarred feet. He wanted to see, and she wanted to be seen. It had been so long since someone had wanted to see the real her.

And she had felt things too. Like blood roaring through her veins and heat gathering in her belly. She had felt both desire and desired, despite all the ugly parts being on display. It was entirely comfortable. And while she probably should have felt guilty, she felt only relief. For five years everyone around her had been saying she must feel this and she must feel that. She had started wondering if there was something wrong with her, something broken. But she was not broken.

Her heart sped up as she emerged from her tent the next morning. She looked over at the now-abandoned campfire where Blackmane and his comrades had slept.

‘Morning, my lady,’ Trahern said, approaching. ‘Your horse is ready.’

‘Thank you.’ She looked around for Blackmane, finding him by his horse, speaking with Commander Tatum. He glanced in her direction, and heat rose in her cheeks at the simple act of eye contact. He nodded once before turning his attention back to Tatum. The exchange was so casual, his demeanour so different from the night prior, that she worried she may have dreamt the whole thing up.

‘Good morning, beloved,’ Hodge called as he stepped outside his tent.

All the heat inside her dissipated at the sound of his voice. She looked in the earl’s direction. ‘Good morning, my lord.’

‘Sleep well?’

No, she had not. She had lain awake thinking about another man’s eyes on her. ‘Yes, thank you.’

Hodge walked over to her, taking hold of her face. Oh, how she wanted to push his hands away.

‘I feel dreadful about yesterday. You know I cannot bear it when we argue.’

The fact that he referred to such incidents as arguments spoke volumes. ‘All is well now.’ She gently guided his hands away from her face, making sure to smile as she did so.

‘We are about thirty-five miles from the camp, which means I will have you safely behind walls by mid-afternoon.’

He loved to put her behind walls.

A guard approached. ‘Your horse is ready, my lord.’

‘Very good,’ Hodge replied.

Their belongings were now being carried out of the tents and pegs torn from the ground. Hodge offered her his arm, and she reluctantly took it.