A lot.
A wave of sickness had me clutching the tree; I swallowed back the misfortune of having vertigo along with the emotional upheaval of what I’d lived through.
The foreignness of dried saliva on my body made my skin crawl. The memory of shattering beneath Jethro’s tongue totally blasphemous.
The sun glinted through the canopy—highlighting trails of where men had licked me.
My stomach threatened to evict the emptiness inside. I was hungry, dehydrated, and cracked out on adrenaline. But beneath it all, my soul ached with growing pains. My claws were forming, my tail twitching with annoyance.
It didn’t escape my knowledge that, as a kitten, I’d stayed on the ground. But now I was in a tree—did that make me a panther? A feline predator that hunted from above, unseen?
I liked that idea.
Forcing myself to concentrate on the trees surrounding me, I strained my ears to hear.
Only insects and birds. No Jethro.
How far was it to the boundary? What direction should I go?
Time seemed to slow, braiding with the fluffy white clouds above as if there were no cares in the world.
It was hypnotic.
The lack of sustenance in my stomach made me tired; I needed a rest.
Just a little one.
The screech of a crow snapped me awake.
Shit!
How could I have faded out like that?
How long had passed? It could’ve been hours or just minutes.
I have no idea.
My heart rabbited, energy heating my limbs. Move. Run again.
Jethro was far away. I couldn’t hear him or the howls of hounds.
Looking at the ground, my lungs crawled into my mouth. Down there, I didn’t feel safe…up here, I did.
Move!
I couldn’t move.
I would probably cling to my sanctuary until I died of hunger and became fossilized. To be found like a mosquito wrapped in amber a thousand years from now.
The thought made me smile.
Would they be able to bring me back to life like in Jurassic Park, outliving the Hawks by thousands of years to finally have the last laugh?
A twig snapped below, wrenching my attention back to the forest floor.
Oh, shit.
Squirrel stood below, looking directly into my eyes. His bristle tail wagged back and forth, his tongue lolling happily. He yipped, scrabbling at the tree.
Tears.
I couldn’t hold them back.
The one dog that’d granted such comfort last night was the one to ruin my future today.
How could you?
I wanted to scream at him for destroying me.
Jethro stepped silently from the shadows like a glacial ghost. His horse was hidden, along with the pack of dogs. In his hand, he held the whip and a saddlebag.
He touched the end of the whip to his temple in a salute. “Well played, Ms. Weaver. I didn’t think you’d have the coordination to climb. I must admit, foolhardy of me not to think of all avenues.” A smile crept across his lips. “I suppose desperation will make one do things they might not ordinarily be able to achieve.”
Stepping forward, he nudged Squirrel out of the way. “What I would like to know is how did you manage to stay up there? Did you not have another one of your annoying fainting incidents?”
The oxygen in my lungs turned into spikes and spurs, digging painfully into my sides. I held tighter to the tree, wondering if I could kill him from up here.
When I didn’t respond, he smirked. “You look positively wild up there. My own little forest creature, caught in my web.”
My arms lashed tighter around the trunk.
Jethro shifted, his movements quiet even with the leaf matter littering the earth. The happiness from his victory dissolved. “Come down. It’s over. I’ve won.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Or do me a favour and fall out. That vertigo has to be useful for something.” Spreading his arms, he muttered, “Go on, I’ll catch you.”
The strength that seemed to feed off Jethro’s cruelty churned hot in my stomach. “You should know me by now. I won’t obey you. You or the rest of your family.”
He chuckled. “Found a backbone up there, did you?”
I bared my teeth. “I found it the moment you stole me from my family and showed me what a monster you are.”
He held up the whip, a shadow falling over his features. “I didn’t steal you—you belong to us. I only took what was rightfully mine. And I’m no monster.”
My heart raced. “You don’t know the meaning of the word, so how can you define yourself?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I think the height of the tree is giving you false confidence. I doubt you’d be talking to me that way if you were down here.” He twitched the whip. “Where I could reach you, hit you, make you behave like you ought to.”
He’s testing you.
I tilted my chin, looking down my nose. “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t, but right now I have the advantage, and I mean to use it.”
He laughed, absently stroking Squirrel’s head as the dog plonked himself by Jethro's feet. “Advantage? I wouldn’t go that far, Ms. Weaver.”
My skin crawled at the use of my last name. He didn’t use it out of consideration or even because the address was my identity—he used it to keep the barrier between us cold and impenetrable.
What is he so afraid of? That my first name will make him waver in his ludicrous family’s goals?
“Why don’t you call me Nila?” I leaned forward, not caring I was naked or stuck in a tree. I had the power for however long I kept him talking. “Are you afraid using my first name is too personal? That you’ll start to feel something for me?”
He sneered. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“What you did at the stables. Showing me sides of you that you’ve kept hidden, in the hopes it will spark some sort of humanness in me.” He shook his head. “I’m not someone you can manipulate.”