To save her horse, she’ll do anything. She’ll beg me for mercy with those perfect rosebud lips.
I spot Myst ahead, partially sheltered behind a rocky outcropping, eating grass with her head turned away from me. She’s slathered in dark mud to mask her white color, which would make her stand out starkly in the dark forest. Once more, I’m struck with Sabine’s resourcefulness—
But then I see Sabine, and my thoughts go blank.
She’s asleep, curled against a dip in the rocky outcropping that partially hides her. There’s mud all over her hands and bare feet, and she looks utterly exhausted, like a rabbit that’s run and run until its muscles gave out. My shirt is up around her hips, giving me an obscene look at her naked ass, rubbed red from riding all night.
My breath stalls in my throat.
By the fucking Immortals, I’m bursting with need. My body was already flushed with adrenaline from the hunt, and now it wants its prize. And gods be damned if I don’t want to claim Sabine as my reward. For days now, I’ve fallen asleep to her heartbeat. I’ve drowned in her violet scent. I’ve stroked my own hand after touching her silky skin. Now, more than anything, I want to taste her.
And I know it’s fucked up. She belongs to Lord Rian, not me. There’s no way I would ever touch her, and I’m plagued with guilt for even thinking of it. But Rian would forgive my desire, wouldn’t he? He’s trained with soldiers. He understands that men get aroused in battle as a purely physical response. Hunting is no different.
It doesn’t—doesn’t—have anything to do with the fact that she’s the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Hanging back beyond the line where Myst could pick up my scent, I take a moment to get my head on straight. My body is still shaking from the rush of pursuing Sabine, the charge taking too long to drain from my limbs. I wipe my hand over my face to get the blood back up where it needs to be, away from my groin.
I drag as much air as I can into my lungs. The sun is rising. Sabine’s jaunt has taken us far off course. We need to end this charade and get back on the road to Duren.
Bow raised, I step around the rocky outcropping into the clearing.
Myst tosses her head up, her eyes flashing wide. The instant she scents me, she lets out a whinny.
Sabine stirs immediately, jumping out of sleep with a small cry.
Her eyes latch to mine and immediately fill with fear.
“I don’t want to hurt Myst,” I say in a steady voice. “It’s up to you if—”
There’s a problem.
Sabine isn’t looking at me. She’s looking behind and above me, at the outcropping.
A second too late, I smell the wildcat.
Gods be damned. I was distracted, and it was downwind. “Oh, fuck—”
Sabine’s lips move in a silent request only the wildcat can hear, and even before I can raise my bow, it leaps off the boulder with hateful eyes reflecting back my own startled face.
Chapter 9
Sabine
In the dark, all I can make out is a jumble of movement. The wildcat yowls and hisses. I scramble to my feet, back pressed against the damp outcropping. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it’s going to burst right out of my chest.
He found us.
My limbs are numb from sleeping on the bare ground, and my head is still sluggish. Dazed, I feel along the outcropping toward Myst. A small amount of light comes from the east. It must be almost morning. How long did I sleep? A few hours? I hadn’t intended to sleep at all, only to shut my eyes.
The wildcat yowls again. Wolf grunts as he tussles with the beast. I force myself to look away. I hate this—hate that it came to this.
The wildcat started following us as soon as we left Wolf’s campsite. It was after Myst initially, but once I spoke with it, it agreed to protect us as far as the forest’s eastern border. Like most wild animals, huntsmen are its greatest enemy, and it was eager to thwart one of them.
There’s a crack like a bone breaking. Man’s or wildcat’s?
A frightened cry bubbles up from my lips. My feet are aching, my legs beyond sore. My pulse hammers like a woodpecker between my ears. Panic clogs my airway like there’s a fist around my throat, squeezing until I can’t breathe.
I can’t get to Myst—Wolf and the wildcat are between us.
She rears up, tossing her head.
Run away! she yells.
I feel frozen—I can’t leave her—but Myst is my brave girl. She’ll be okay on her own. She can sure as hell run faster than me.
There’s another grunt as Wolf and the wildcat collide, and I flinch. Reaching the end of the outcropping, I climb until I’m on higher ground, and then run blindly.
Where can I go?
My mind doesn’t want to think. It only wants to act. Rocks and roots stab at my soles. Months ago, my feet would have been tough enough to pass through the woods barefoot, but not since the Sisters ensured my calluses had softened in preparation for my marriage.
Shit. I won’t get far like this.
Wincing as pain stabs my feet bottoms, I spot a fallen log in the early morning mist. It’s hollowed out, big enough to hide me. Maybe the sweet rot of wood will mask my scent. Desperate, I dive for the log and scramble inside. It’s damp and loamy and dark. I crawl in as far as I can, pulling in my feet. My bruised rib throbs. Between the two ends of the log, I just barely fit. Dirt and debris fill the humid air, straining my already limited breath.
Be quiet, I tell myself while clutching my aching rib.
But I can’t stop my heart from beating.
I can’t tell my lungs not to fill.
For a few seconds, nothing happens. I can only see a small portion of the forest from within the log. Muffled by the wood, it’s impossible to hear what’s happening out there. Are they still fighting? For all I know, the wildcat killed Wolf. Myst and I could be free. Assuming Myst got away . . .
I’m churning in my own fears when a branch snaps. I swallow a gasp—
The wildcat falls with a thud right next to my head.
It’s dead. Its glassy eyes see nothing. Its neck is bent at an angle. Its fur is matted with blood.
I scream.
Before I can move, Wolf grabs my ankles at the other side of the log.
I kick and scream as he drags me out. All I can think about is the dead wildcat. If he killed it so easily, what will he do to me? Panic overtakes my reason, and I thrash as Wolf pulls me the rest of the way out onto the damp forest floor.
“Sabine. Stop!”
He tries to grab my wrists, but I smack at him with my remaining strength. From the corner of my eye, I spot Myst nearby, tied by a rope to a tree. She rears up, wanting to help, but there’s nothing she can do.
“Let me go!” I scream, trying to scratch his face. I’m dimly aware there are already deep, bleeding scratches on his neck made by claws far sharper than mine. But at this moment, I could care less if Wolf Bowborn is hurt.