Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (46 page)

BOOK: Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate

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“You will not embarrass me,” Dalibor said. His calm tone belied the expression on his face.

Malia borrowed her mother’s authoritative tone, hoping it covered any quiver in her voice, and said, “You have truly forgotten your place now. I am your wife, and you will do as I say. And more importantly, I will be your clan mother one day. For threatening me, you could be exiled.”

One hand began to curl up, and for a moment she was sure he would strike her. And if he began, she did not think he would be able to stop. She would end up crushed like the bowl.

But then he lowered his arms and stepped back. “You’re right. I have forgotten my place. Forgive me, Malia.” But the tension in his jaw said otherwise, as did the undercurrent of anger in his voice. Dalibor spoke the words he thought Malia wanted to hear. It made her ill. She couldn’t erase from her mind the rage on his face only moments before or the certainty that he would hurt her.

Quietly, she gathered his clothes and hunting gear and wrapped them in his sleeping pallet. She brought the bundle to the door and hesitated. Setting his things outside would be the first step to ending their partnership. This was not what she’d imagined as she built this home. Hot tears rimmed her eyes. She also hadn’t imagined Dalibor treating her this way.

“Malia, what are you doing?”

She strained for any sign of warmth or regret in his voice but caught none. She let a few moments pass, waiting for him to tell her something more, something that might change her mind. Night had settled, and clouds scudding across the sky made the darkness sharper. An owl cried mournfully from the woods.

“What are you doing?” he asked again.

She took a fortifying breath and set his things outside on the ledge, glad the darkness hid the tears. “You are my husband no more.” Her own words pierced her like arrows.

“But Malia—”

“Out.”

Dalibor straightened. “I will appeal this with your mother.”

“Do what you must.” Her mother would side with her. She had to.

Dalibor ducked out the door. The familiar creak of the wooden ladder let her know he was climbing down.

She took the broom and began sweeping up the pieces of the bowl. Then sobs overcame her and she leaned on the wooden handle. “What have I done?” she asked the empty room.

Silence answered.

___

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