5
MARKULA
A deep rumbling vibrates the air and the pads of my fingertips. The big cat looks up at me with eyes the color of molasses, his fur black and shiny as glass. He rubs his bull head against my thigh — straining to be near to me.
The front door closes with a clunk, and I draw away from the window. The cat follows, but his ears prick at the sound. He growls.
He doesn’t like her either — Dawn — though he won’t leave my side to seek her out. I smelled her before they let her inside. I smelled her before they entered city limits. She’s beautiful, I’ll give him that, the type of beauty that used to get a woman paired off to the biggest landowner in the region. Once, I was that landowner, every father fighting for my favor, begging me to take his daughter. But none of those women had
