Page 33 of Not Another Happily Ever After

“Oh.” I blink, holding back a smile. “That’s nice.”

Myrrdin’s hand shoots to his tunic, covering the small pocket there, his eyes ablaze with the kind of fire only a sibling can start. “He is not a pet. He is a companion.”

Myrrdin throws his head back in laughter. “He’s a stick with a ganglia for a brain!”

“At least he has one!”

“I think I left something…uh, over there.” I gesture toward nowhere in particular as I back away slowly, leaving the brothers to their squabble.

I hear something about being lucky and having a lot of legs when I stumble upon the fourth and final knight in the dark knight’s band.

He’s adjusting the breast harness on one of the four large horses, stroking its black coat as he softly coos its name,Silvermist. The others, also black coated apart from the white mane of a little one, nicker and whinny their impatience.

“You’re awfully good with them.” I say.

He doesn’t respond, so I inch closer and try again. “Are any of these yours?” I ask, running my hand over the horse with the white in its mane.

This time I know he hears me. His narrowed eyes the only thing he offers before moving to the other side of the carriage.

I huff impatiently, pulling the wet cloak tight around my shoulders, starved of any warmth.You’d think I’d be used to cold shoulders.

“Hey, you alright? You look a little blue.” Merrek jogs over, probably just realizing I was no longer standing at his side.

“I—”

“Merrek!” Myrrdin strides around the wagon, huffing as he does. “Where is your shame, you daft muck-spout?”

I’m tempted to ask what a muck-spout is when Merrek throws the attention back on me, gesturing toward my uncovered hands.

“Her. Hands. Are. Blue.Blue, Merrek. That’s not normal!” He waves his own hands wildly, emphasizing how very not normal they are. “No offense,” he quickly adds, offering me a lopsided smile.

I shrug. “Honestly, this is theleastoffensive thing that’s been said to me in the past forty-eight hours.”

He frowns at that.

“I apologize in advance, princess.” Merrek sighs, pushing his stray copper strands back into his neat coif.

My lips purse as I wait for an explanation. Instead, I get a scathing view of his very chiseled chest as he gently removes his tunic, setting it safely off to one side.

“For… what?” I ask on bated breath.

Myrrdin tsks, pressing his lips into a tight line, “For this.” He answers before tackling Merrek to the ground, throttling him like a limp sack of potatoes.

“She. Is. Cursed!” He yells over the ringing sound of Merrek’s chortled laughter.

“Aye, Bugs! Ladies’ man! Look sharp.”

I jolt at the gravelly voice barking orders just behind me. The no-name knight stalks forward to stand at my side, seemingly unsettled as he ties his straight, dark locks away from his face with a small red cloth, revealing high, defined cheekbones, a strong jawline, and deep-set eyes. In the moonlight, they almost look yellow.

He’s beautiful. In a rogue sort of way.

“Wolfe,” he whispers, lips barely moving.

“What? Where?” I draw myself closer to him, my eyes wide as I frantically search for a wild canine in the castle’s shadows.

The knights on the other hand, don’t seem the least bit concerned.

“My name,” he answers.