Ravensblood Forest salt fires

Hex shook his head. He didn't know much about Crowell, but what he'd gathered was unsettling, to say the least. And if he'd staked enough of a claim for this woman to voice it. . .

You're no one's wench, Hex said firmly. He doubted everything else—doubted anyone would be coming for them—but he knew for certain these women could fight whatever metaphorical chains these men had cast upon them.

I'll bring you all food, he told her, and turned away for good. He was tempted to look back, but he kept his path onward.