Unbound (The Captive #7)

Running his hands over her back, he massaged the tight muscles he uncovered there until he worked them loose and she released a blissful sigh. Jack brushed her silken hair back from her neck to expose the bite marks he’d left on her this morning. A thrill of possession went through him as he pulled her closer against his chest.

She was settling against him when he heard the faintest click from one of the tunnels below. He rolled Hannah to the side before leaping to his feet. Snatching two of the stakes from the supply he kept stashed near their bedding, he hurried to the end of the tunnel and looked out on the cavern below him. From here he couldn’t see Braith’s body, but he had a good view of the rest of the cavern. Nothing moved and the only sound he heard was the crackling fire on the torch he’d left below.

“Stay here,” he said to Hannah sharply when she came up behind him.

“Jack…”

He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say as he rested his hand on the rock closest to him and leapt over it. He scurried over and around the rocks as he made his way steadily downward, his gaze constantly darting over the cave around him while he listened for another sound. Moving around another set of rocks, he spotted Braith where he had left him.

Another sound brought his attention to the tunnel beyond Braith, the one he had just used to return to the caves. Something clicked before scraping across rock. Jack’s lips skimmed back to reveal his fangs as he made his way toward the tunnel.

His gaze went to where Hannah was making her way toward him. He held his hand up and shook his head at her. Stay, he mouthed and she glared at him.

Poking his head around the corner and into the tunnel, he listened for more noise. Nothing sounded within the shadows, but he could feel something in the darkness, waiting for him. He glanced back at Hannah to make sure she remained a safe distance from the tunnel.

He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her. He didn’t care who, or how many beings he had to destroy to keep her safe, he would do it. Ducking around the corner, he steadily crept toward the closed gate. Little light penetrated this area, but he didn’t return for the torch, it would only give him away to whoever remained hidden beyond the gate.

Had he missed something when he’d gone above again? Had there been a spy somewhere that he hadn’t seen or scented? It would be possible if they were good and stayed downwind of him, but he’d been so careful with every move he’d made in and out of these caves.

Jack reached the bend in the tunnel. Pressing his back against the wall, he slid down until he was sitting on his haunches. Another click caused him to freeze as he strained to hear anything more.

Have the others returned? Even as he thought it, he knew they hadn’t. They would have opened the gate and come in.

No, it was not his friends in the shadows beyond, hunting them.

He poked his head around the corner, careful to expose as little of himself as he could to any arrows that might come his way.

He froze, and his hands tightened on the stakes when he saw what waited for him there.





CHAPTER 25


Max

Daniel slept with his chin on his chest while Timber kept watch over the crevice. Beside Max, the girl had fallen asleep an hour ago. Her knees were against her chest as she slept with her back to the wall. Many rebels slept with their backs to a wall, but he’d never seen any who slept in a ball before. She was tiny enough as it was. This position made her appear like a fox trying to hide from a coyote.

In her hands, she clenched a small knife before her nose. He knew it had to be a weapon she slept with often if she felt comfortable enough not to accidentally stab herself with it in her sleep. In the early morning sun filtering through the roots, he could see that the scar on her face started at her hairline above her right eye. It trailed all the way down the center of her right cheek to curve around to the middle of her chin before stopping.

The scar was white in color and he saw no evidence of stitches on her skin. The knife she held had not created it. She would have woken long before she could have cut herself like that, but a blade had left the mark upon her.

Max’s hands balled at his sides as the desire to destroy whoever had done that to her slid through him. No one should ever be abused in such a way.

The scar could not deter from her prettiness though. His fingers itched to brush back the black hair falling around her face, but he kept himself restrained from touching her. It had taken hours of her eyes falling closed then opening again to stare at him warily before sleep had finally succeeded in dragging her under. If he touched her while she slept and woke her, she might stab him, and she would never come close to him again. For some reason, he wanted her to trust him, even if he didn’t entirely trust her.