Free Winter Queen by Amber Argyle Page A

if savoring a lingering sweetness. She tried to drop from the horse, but he held her tight. “When I find what I want, I take it. And I want your power, and claim to your clan through marriage. Time, Ilyenna. I have five years. Has your answer changed?”
    She gritted her teeth. “It never will.”
    He laughed. “The longer we play this game, the higher the stakes. Remember that. All that is required is for you to say the words, and the game ends.”
    Fear tore at her resolve like wolves clawing a hole under the barn door. She held herself erect, trying to look every bit the part of a clan mistress. He must never see her fear.
    Soon, they reached Tyranholm—easily twice the size of Shyleholm. At the clan house stables, Darrien motioned for her to get off before dismounting himself. For the briefest moment, she considered vaulting into his saddle and heeling the horse away. But the Balance demanded she serve five years, regardless of the injustice of it.
    Besides, even if she somehow managed to get away, where could she go? The clans didn’t tolerate runaway tiams. The last one to run away was sold to distant lands as a slave. Ilyenna would be hauled back to Darrien. He could do anything he liked after that. She’d have no rights and no means of recourse.
    No, better to wait until the Council intervened.
    A stable boy came for Darrien’s horse. Cowering as if expecting a slap, the boy took the reins.
    Darrien jerked his thumb toward her. “Boy! Get me the soaked strap.”
    The boy cringed and ran.
    Ilyenna felt her face drain of blood. Soaked strap?
    Gripping her arm, Darrien steered her toward a tall pole. At the top, a rope dangled from a metal ring that had been driven into the wood. A beating pole—reserved for punishing thieves, abusers, and drunkards.
    She clenched her jaw. “What have I done to deserve a beating?”
    Darrien stopped at the base of the pole. “Will you tell me the secret of your power?”
    She pursed her lips. “Winter fairies healed me.”
    He snorted. “I want the truth, not children’s fairy tales.” He stepped closer. “Will you marry me?”
    “You swore,” she whispered.
    “I swore not to marry you unless you were willing. I’ll not force you, Ilyenna. But I’ll beat you for refusing to submit to my will. What is your answer?”
    “Undon swore I’d not be beaten.”
    Darrien leaned forward and whispered, “No, Ilyenna. He promised he wouldn’t beat you. He said nothing about anyone else.”
    They’d tricked her. Terror coursed through her body. “No. He couldn’t have meant this.”
    “And you’re going to appeal to him, are you? Because then I might just have to remember exactly who killed my father’s favorite son.”
    She shuddered. Darrien had her trapped, and they both knew it. Ghosts of the coming horrors danced in her mind.
    He wrapped her wrists with the rope that dangled from the topmost metal ring. “A good tiam submits to her master in all things. It may take time, but I will teach you how to be a good tiam.” He finished the knot. “You should’ve killed me, Ilyenna.”
    She looked him in the eye. “Give me another chance. I won’t make the mistake again.”
    He chuckled. “You have to decide, are you a healer or a killer?”
    “I killed your brother.” As soon as Ilyenna said it, she knew she’d made a mistake.
    Darrien’s eyes shimmered with pain that had twisted into hatred. “So you did. Perhaps we’re more alike than you thought.”
    The stable boy came running, warily holding a strap that dripped what looked like watered-down milk, but the way it made Ilyenna’s nose sting was unmistakable. The strap had been soaked in lye. It would cause tremendous pain and discomfort without leaving scars. She’d be lucky to abide clothes for days.
    Tears burned in her eyes. “I’m nothing like you.” But as she said it, she wondered if she was really all that different. Hammoth had reached out to keep her from falling, been reluctant to hurt her,