CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
RAFE
I bent down and looked at the dark spot on the ground.
I rubbed the dirt between my fingers.
Blood.
I would kill them.
I would kill every one of them with my bare hands if they had harmed her, and I’d save Kaden for last.
I pushed twice as hard, trying to stay on their trail while I still had light. The ground became rocky, and it was harder to follow their tracks. I had to slow my pace, and it seemed that only minutes had passed before the sun became a fiery orange ball in the sky. It was going down too fast. I pushed on as far as I could, but I couldn’t track them in the dark.
I stopped on an elevated knoll and built a fire in case Sven and the others rode in the night. If not, my cold campfire would be easy to spot by day when they tracked me. I stabbed at the fire, poking it with a stick, and wondered if Lia was warm, or cold, or hurt. For the first time since I’d known of her existence, when the marriage was proposed by my father, I hoped she did have the gift and could see me coming.
“Hold on,” I whispered into the flames, and I prayed she’d do whatever she had to, to stay strong and survive until we came.
Even if I caught up, I knew I’d have to hang back until the others arrived. I had been trained in countless military tactics and was well aware of what the odds of one against five were. Except for an opportune ambush, I couldn’t risk Lia’s safety by going in there half cocked ready to take their heads off.
What was she doing now? Had he hurt her? Was he feeding her? Did he— I snapped the branch in two.
I remembered the words he spit at me when we wrestled on the log. Give it up, Rafe. You’re going to fall.
No, Kaden.
Not this time.