Chapter 68 68

Chapter 68 68
Eve's POV 

I stare at him.

The ash is still drifting through the air like we just set off the world’s worst glitter bomb.

“Are you trying to say,” I begin slowly, because my brain is still catching up to my mouth, “that Skara is actively trying to kill me?”

Garrick runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back like this is mildly inconvenient weather.

“I don’t know,” he says.

Oh.

Oh, that’s bad! That's bad. I need clarity!

“I don’t know?” I repeat. “That’s it?”

He exhales, glancing at the trees like maybe the answer is hiding behind one of them.

“Maybe,” he says carefully, “she wants you to return to the Barbarian pack.”

“With you,” I finish flatly.

“Yes.”

I blink at him.

Then I laugh, slightly hysterical, but the laughter fills my belly.

“Nah-ah.” I spat.

His eyebrow lifts.

“You were literally speaking with Skara,” I say, pointing at him with the silver claw still clutched in my hand. “She told you my name. She told you where I’m from. She’s sending demonic forest creatures after me. And you expect me to just… what? Trust you?”

“You don't have to trust me or anyone!” he replies dryly.

“You want me to be your bride,” I remind him.

“Strategic bride.”

I stare at him.

“Sure.”

He almost smiles.

Which pissed me off further.

“I won’t be returning to the Barbarian pack,” I continue, firmer now. “Not as your bride. Not as anyone’s anything.”

“Ravena…”

“Eve.”

He pauses.

“…Eve.”

Better.

“I need to get to the Blood Sea,” I say. “Whatever Skara wants, whatever she’s playing at, I’m not dancing to her tune. If she doesn’t want me there, then that’s exactly where I’m going.”

His jaw tightens slightly.

“You don’t even know what you’ll find.”

“Then I’ll find out.”

“You could die.”

I shrug.

“I almost died five minutes ago. At least this way it’s on my terms.”

His eyes narrow.

“You call this a plan?”

“I call it not running back to a pack that exiled me.”

“You were removed for protection.”

“Sure,” I say. “And the Endophines were just here for a picnic.”

He exhales through his nose.

“I am trying to keep you alive.”

“And I am trying to choose my own path.”

I take a step back, wiping dirt from my hands.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” I say, lifting my chin. “You either help me get to the Blood Sea…”

I point past him toward the deeper forest.

“…or you get out of my way.”

Silence.

Wind brushes through the clearing, stirring the last of the ash at our feet.

I turn to leave.

Because I mean it.

I take one step, then another. 

And suddenly his hand wraps around my wrist.

I whip around.

“Garrick…”

He steps closer in one smooth motion, closing the space between us before I can pull free.

His other hand rises and tilts my chin upward gently but decisively, forcing me to meet his eyes.

The world narrows to just him.

“You,” he says quietly, studying my face like I’m a puzzle he refuses to lose to, “are indeed as stubborn as they say you are.”

Something within me melted.

“You want the Blood Sea?” he asks, studying me like he’s calculating ten different outcomes in his head.

“Yes.”

“There’s a faster way.”

My eyes narrow slightly.

“A faster way?” I repeat.

He drops his hand from my chin, but doesn’t step back.

“There’s a shortcut through the Ravenspire pass,” he says. “Cuts two days off the journey. Fewer patrols. Less exposure.”

“And you just… know this.”

“I do.”

“Because?”

“Because I’ve hunted there.”

He watches my reaction carefully before continuing.

“I’ll take you,” he says.

I blink.

That was not the resistance I was expecting.

“You’ll… take me.”

“Yes.”

Suspicion immediately rises.

“And what’s the catch?” I ask.

There’s always a catch.

He tilts his head slightly, like he appreciates that I didn’t miss that part.

“If,” he says slowly, “after you reach the Blood Sea… after you find whatever it is you think you’ll find… and it doesn’t give you what you want…”

His lips curved into a sly smirk.

“…then you will return with me to the Barbarian pack,” he said calmly.

I fold my arms over my chest. He actually thinks this will work.

“And you will marry me.”

He says it so casually.

Like he’s proposing a trade agreement.

I stare at him.

“You are relentless,” I inform him.

“I am practical.”

“You are delusional.”

He doesn’t even flinch.

“You believe the Blood Sea holds answers, Eve. I'm not the delusional one here,” he says evenly and then smiles at me fully. “If I am wrong, you are free.”

If only he knew. I tried my best not to smile or burst out laughing.

“If I'm right, then you come back with me. As my wife. With my protection. And no one questions your place again.”

And for half a second, I almost hate that part of me that reacts to that.

I tilt my head, studying him.

“You’re very confident it won’t work out for me,” I say.

“I am.” His mouth twitches faintly.

Bold.

Very bold.

Inside, though?

I was laughing!

This hunk has absolutely no idea.

By the time we reach the Blood Sea, I won’t even be here anymore.

I’ll be home.

Back where I belong. Noise streets, my iPhone buzz, my cozy cafe, latte and matcha.

I almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

“You’re serious,” I say, pretending to weigh the options.

“I don’t make offers lightly.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I follow you anyway,” he says calmly. “But without the shortcut.”

I roll my eyes.

Of course.

“You really don’t know how to quit.”

“I prefer to call it persistence,” he said, raising his hand for a handshake. “Deal?”

I smirk.

“You have no idea,” I say softly.

He raises an eyebrow.

“About?”

“Nothing.”

I slip my hand into his.

“Deal,” I say.