Free Black Moon Draw by Lizzy Ford

death so long as you accept these three laws.”
    His conviction makes me want to agree to anything he says. I’ve never been that resolute about anything in my life.
    It also scares me. Absolute obedience. I’m afraid to know what all that entails. I’ve never trusted anyone with all of me – especially not my mind. Not even Jason.
    “Do you understand?” he prods. “Do not think to wile me with your beauty, witch. The laws of Black Moon Draw apply to you as well.”
    Beauty. I’ve never heard that one before. Blushing, I manage a nod.
    “Good. We will discuss it further.” Without warning, he wraps one arm around me and pries me away from the trunk. “You must learn quickly how to be a battle-witch.”
    “Stop!” I shout, flailing. Panic flares back to life as he holds me against his body in mid-air. “You’re going to drop me!”
    “Be still, witch, or I will.” The sharp words terrify me.
    I close my eyes and clutch his arm, but stop moving.
    “Good. Every man in my armies trusts me to protect them. ‘Tis why they obey blindly, without thought, question, or doubt. Their lives are mine. Your life is mine. Do you understand?”
    “Y . . . yes.”
    “You will do the same. Besides, you are a battle-witch. If I drop you, you will heal.” This time, there’s amusement in his tone. Do they throw women out of trees for fun here? Because I’m not understanding why this is funny.
    He flings me away from him.
    “No, no –” My chant ends in a scream.
    I’m falling, praying, crying . . . plunging to my death or to an even worse fate – having every bone in my body broken when I hit the ground.
    I land on something much softer than the earth.
    The men of Black Moon Draw are laughing. They’ve caught me in a blanket held among them and lower it to the ground. I close my eyes, resting my head back. I swear I almost had a heart attack.
    “Tree-witch!” one says and then laughs. “Were there such a thing!”
    Maybe if I just lie here, they’ll think I’m dead and leave me.
    “Come, battle-witch!” This is from the lord and master, the Shadow Knight, who doesn’t bother climbing down but leaps off the tree. He lands near me, shaking the ground.
    Overbearing, determined, sexy . . . He’s impossible to reason with. There’s no way for me to follow these kinds of rules. I may not have much of a backbone; compared to blind obedience, I’m an absolute rebel. I have a feeling convincing him of anything will be like smacking a tree with a Nerf bat. I’m not going to win.
    The idea I need to somehow help the Hero complete his journey returns. I’m no closer to identifying who that Hero is. If I lie here, I’ll never figure it out.
    Reluctantly, I stand up.
    The Shadow Knight has replaced his boar head, for which I’m unusually grateful. His body is enough of a distraction. His piercing eyes are a whole new level of intensity I’m not used to.
    The boar’s mouth opens, and I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to say.
    “I know.” I glare at him. “I heard you the first four hundred times. I’m coming.” Maybe I should care what he thinks, but I don’t, not after he threw me out of a tree.
    He snaps his snout closed with a growl and turns away, his powerful body striding back towards the camp in the forest.
    He’s wearing chaps again. I sigh. I want to go home.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    I’m hungry, confused, and worried by the time I follow him through the throngs of milling, sweaty, smelly men of his kingdom into the trunk of an ancient tree. Once again I marvel at the idea that the trees voluntarily give them shelter. The interior of this one reflects the Shadow Knight’s status as a leader. It’s the size of my living room at least with half a dozen lanterns seated on boxes, a bed that almost looks comfortable covered with furs, and an area used for planning with him and his generals. Or whatever he calls them.
    I enter and go to the sitting area, watching him nervously. Thank god his