Meg nodded. “Yes. I am going to give this marriage thing another shot. Apparently, if it doesn’t work out, murder is always an option. Beck promised me.”
“Well, that throws a different light on the thing, then,” the red man muttered.
“What?” Meg asked, not sure she had caught that last part.
His face was jovial as he looked up, as though all the consternation had just floated away. “Nothing, dear, nothing at all. I think it’s marvelous that you’ve decided to give the king another chance. Love is more important than any other consideration. I know just how to get you back to your husband, dearie.”
He started down the path again. Meg followed eagerly. She hoped she could get back before Beck realized she was gone. She would get back to camp and throw off her clothes. When Beck showed up, she would tempt him back into bed where she intended to prove to him they were perfect together.
“How do you know all this stuff?” She hadn’t mentioned that her husband was the King. Meg followed the red man off the path. She could hear water flowing. It made her feel good. They had followed a river last night to get to their campsite by the lake. She must be getting close.
“I know everything, dearie,” the man stated plainly. “It’s all a part of who I am.”
Before Meg could continue the line of questioning, she was halted by a sight so beautiful it took her breath away.
They had crested a small hill and the river came into view. There was an early morning mist floating off the river giving everything a hazy, soft feel. Standing gracefully in the shallow water was the most elegant horse Meg had ever seen. It was pure white and gave off a sheen of sweetness and innocence as it leaned down and drank.
“It’s so beautiful.” Meg spoke in hushed tones, not wanting to scare it off.
“She’s magic, dear,” the red man explained. “She roams the forest and aids travelers in getting to their destination.”
Meg searched her brain, trying to remember the one class she had taken in lore. It had mostly been about the Greek and Roman gods, but there had been a small section on Irish folklore. She might have skipped that day. Her penchant for urban fantasy and romance novels were the only reason she knew what a sidhe was. Now she wished Laurell K. Hamilton had covered faery horses in her books.
“She’ll take me to Beck?”
There was an odd light in the red man’s eyes. “Yes, dearie. She’ll take you to your husband.” He noted her hesitation and shrugged. “Or you can walk aimlessly through the woods and never find him. These woods are enchanted. If you don’t know your way around them, you could be lost forever. Your husband will wander the woods, seeking you. It happens all the time.”
The red man looked like he couldn’t care less what she did. Meg frowned. Time was running out. She had decided to take a chance on Beck, so it only followed she could take another. “All right. How do I get back to him?”
The red man was already retreating. “She will tell you.” Meg turned, and the red man was completely gone. His voice still echoed through the trees. “Just let her lead you home.”
A shiver passed through Meg. She started toward the river anyway. The horse turned her head toward the interloper, and for a moment Meg worried that she would startle it away. Then the gentle eyes looked right through her, and Meg felt as if the horse could see to her soul. Now that she was close, Meg could see that there were flowers woven into the mare’s mane. She had obviously been swimming in the river because the mane was dripping with pure river water.
Feeling more comfortable, Meg stepped closer. The horse’s eyes seemed luminous in the early morning light. It felt like a magical moment when she held her hand out and gently brushed the horse. She was surprised to find the skin cold. There was no warmth in the flesh, but perhaps she was being fanciful. Of course, if the horse had been wading through the river, it followed that her skin would be cold.
The horse snickered. It was a sweet sound. She shook her head and gracefully leaned down, as though inviting Meg to mount her.
“Okay, but I gotta warn you, I’m not very good at this.” The horse shook her mane. Suddenly, Meg knew the horse wanted her to haul herself up this way. “I hope this doesn’t hurt.”
Meg wrapped her fingers in the mane, noting the flowers seemed to be attached to weeds in some places. She managed to get her leg over the horse’s back and was pleased when she got into an upright position.
“Piece of cake,” she muttered to herself. Her hands were shaking as she tried to pull them out of the mane to get a better hold. “Take me back to my husband.”
Her hands seemed stuck in the coarse hairs. Meg pulled, but they didn’t budge. She tried to shift her legs. They held fast to the horse’s flesh.
The horse snickered. This time it sounded less gentle, more triumphant, and not in a good way. The horse’s eyes narrowed and became somewhat cruel.
“Oh, shit,” Meg cursed, knowing something had gone very wrong.
The horse reared up and took off at a gallop. Meg flew with her and then screamed as the horse plunged them both into the deepest part of the river. She felt the horse stiffen as something hit it, but it didn’t matter.
Meg’s scream was cut off as water began to fill her lungs.
Beck panicked when he realized she had run. She had done it. She had left him. His heart started to pound. The anger would come later. Now he was overcome with fear. These woods were dangerous. What had he been thinking, bringing her through here without a proper escort? But then, he couldn’t afford a proper escort. Damn him, he shouldn’t have purchased a wife he couldn’t properly take care of. She was going to die here, and then he would lie down beside his brother and allow himself to fade. Maybe that was what he should have done in the first place.
Stop it. This was no time for doubt or pity. If he was going to save his wayward wife, he needed to think clearly. Find her trail.
It wasn’t hard. His woman didn’t have any idea how to hide it. Her boot prints were plain in the dirt path. Beck tossed his bow and quiver over his shoulder. He was fully armed. He had the sword on his back and some knives placed in various sheaths across his body. He tossed aside the two rabbits he’d killed for breakfast. His appetite was completely gone. All that mattered was finding Meg before something else found her.
As Beck began to jog down the trail, his eyes watched for signs of her, but his mind was caught in a punishing trap.
She had run because he had been too rough with her. She had given him a second chance after he’d treated her horribly in the arena, and what had he done? He’d spread her legs painfully wide and shoved into her as hard and long as he could. He’d covered her with his heavy body and forced her to take all of him. She was so small, yet he’d pushed himself in, all the way to his balls. It had probably hurt. She’d said she liked it, but he knew the truth.
He’d known that his compulsions were perverse since he was sixteen years old. He’d had a strong, overwhelming sex drive from the moment he hit manhood. He had tried to hide it from everyone except his brother, who matched him. Cian didn’t seem to need the same things he did, though. Cian could be gentle and sweet with a woman. Beck needed to bend her to his will. It was his obsession. He thought he had found a good match in one of his mother’s handmaids. She was a woman in her early twenties. She didn’t seem to mind when he ordered her to take his cock in her mouth or spread her legs so he could look at her pussy. She seemed to like it. His father had found them just as Beck was discovering the joys of shoving his cock up her tight little ass. His father had beaten the crap out of him. Then he sat Beck down to explain a few things to him.