When Nelle Wychthorn was forced to sign herself away in marriage, she should have read the contract's fine print. Because she signs not with ink, but with blood. And that changes everything.
Season 1 'Of Crows and Thorns'
***
Fiery Nelle, the isolat...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
In a panic, Evvie shoved free of Caidan who reached for her again. Her shrill voice cried out, "No, just let me go!"
Stumbling back, she half-turned away, and in her profile, a rush of wild emotion crossed her features. But the loudest, the one that stayed, was shame. A heartbeat later, it was swept away.
Dread twisted my gut as I realized where her resolve was taking her. She was the perfect Wychthorn princess after all. "Evvie? Please, don't do this," I begged her.
She'd dropped her gaze to her shoes. Her arms hung limply by her side and I watched her flex her fingers back and forth. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand rose to brush along the flat of her stomach as she squared her shoulders and lifted her head regally to look directly at Caidan. Nothing but a sweet, mindless face greeted him. She delivered a warm yet impersonal smile, saying, "I need to go find Momma. I hope you'll enjoy the evening." Stepping back, she swiveled around on the ball of her foot, and walked toward the door, smoothing her arm sleeves back down to cover the bruises encircling her wrists.
Caidan's expression darkened. In a surge of motion, he lurched forward, grabbing hold of my sister's elbow to spin her back to face him. She stumbled and her hands went to his bare chest to help keep her balance. "Caidan," she yelped in surprise.
"No, you don't," he growled. His hands gripped her waist to keep her pressed against him. "You don't get to sweep this away."
If I hadn't been so focused on Evvie and Caidan, I might have heard the footsteps approaching.
The door swung open and a haughty voice asked, "Evelene?"
Corné stepped into the laundry, holding a glass of wine. His eyes flared wide with shock, then narrowed to slits as he took in Evvie pressed against Caidan, and the large hands spread around her waist while hers were splayed across his bare chest. Corné's face became more like his father's—thin and pointy with anger. "Evelene, What the hells is going on here?"
His gaze bounced between Evvie, me, and shirtless Caidan, all of us gathered together in a tight knot. It would look inappropriate if you didn't take in our expressions. Such rage filled mine and Caidan's.
Caidan snarled, "Corné—"
"No, you listen to me, Crowther," Corné interrupted, pointing a finger at him with the hand holding his wine. "I don't know what the fuck is going on here, but get your hands off my fiancée and keep the fuck away from her. You don't look at her. You don't touch her. You don't speak to her."
Evvie flinched, paling, then stepped free from Caidan. Her terrified gaze shot from Corné to Caidan and back again. "It's not—" my sister started to say.
"It's not how it looks?" Corné sneered. "My fiancée all over a Crowther?"
His mouth pulled into a distasteful line and he shook his head at Evvie as if trying to grasp the idea of how low she'd sunk. "Gods, a Crowther. How common." He squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a deep breath through his nose. When his eyes flashed open, there was something predatory gleaming in their depth. He looked like a wolf—a russet-coated wolf. I could practically see the saliva dripping from his fangs as he fixed his attention wholly on Evvie.
