Page 15

“I don’t have anything to do with the castle!” she said as fervently as possible. “You have the wrong person.” She wasn’t willing to go as far as naming Dimitri, but she had a strong desire not to meet this leader of theirs.

“I’m just a local,” she added. “I live nearby, that’s why you’ve seen me.” She drew another breath. “And I have three brothers. They’ll be looking for me.” It was a bit of a stretch but hopefully had enough ring of truth.

The men hesitated for a moment, exchanging looks. But the first man eventually shook his head. “We’ll let him work that out. If he wants to let you go, he’s free to do so. We did our part.” He chuckled as if he didn’t think it likely Rosalie would be freed.

Filled with fresh desperation, she kicked backward while simultaneously biting hard on the closest stretch of arm. Her captor grunted, giving her a vicious squeeze that once again robbed her of breath. While she was still trying to suck in enough air, he hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

By the time Rosalie’s head had stopped spinning, they were well into the trees. She watched the trunks and leaves flash past, queasy from the mode of travel.

If she waited for the right moment, she might be able to wiggle her way free. But she was as likely to fall on her head as her feet, and even if it worked perfectly, how far would she get with three men chasing her?

As much as she hated to give in, it seemed like her best chance was in waiting to speak to their leader. Perhaps she could find a way to reason with him. And in the meantime, the road was now clear for Daphne to turn around and head back toward Rosalie’s home and Thebarton. Her brothers might not be the threatening presence she had claimed, but they could gather a group to search for her.

She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or disappointed when the men turned into a hidden clearing among the trees. On the one hand, the further away she was, the harder it would be for the townsfolk to find her. On the other, it was too soon. She wasn’t sure if Daphne would even have reached her mother and brothers yet.

When her captor dumped her onto her feet, it took a moment for Rosalie’s head to stop spinning and her sense of balance to return. As soon as it had, she looked around, taking in the clearing in one glance. Her heart immediately dropped.

Five more men were gathered there, their attention on the new arrivals. She had been hoping it was only the first three and their absent leader. If a rescue party did set out from Thebarton, would they bring enough men? She didn’t want her brothers to end up in the same desperate situation she was already in.

She had barely absorbed the situation before one of the men approached her with a length of rope, clearly meaning to secure her hands. She considered struggling, but if escape had been a poor chance before, it was even more so now. Better to pretend compliance.

She passively allowed him to bind her wrists, even holding her arms steady. But while she attempted to look as relaxed as possible, she was actually straining her arms apart, creating a small amount of room between her hands to provide wriggle room later.

The strategy seemed to work since the man binding her paid little attention to the task, his attention on the man with the ruptured eardrums. Those in the clearing had been quick to notice the blood on the side of the injured man’s face, and they seemed to find it humorous that he had been hurt bringing in such a harmless-looking target. Rosalie could only be glad the man in front of her was more interested in jeering at his companion than tying her knots tight.

As soon as he’d finished, he moved away, and Rosalie straightened, taking a longer look at the clearing. She needed to work out which one was the leader so she could plead her case directly to him. Before she could identify him, however, one of the men pushed his way forward.

“Rosalie!” The man hurried to her side, his expression horrified.

Every word of her prepared speech fled her mind, replaced with empty shock.

“Jace?” She hated how small and tentative she sounded. Her thoughts had stalled, though. How could Jace be here with these men?

Jace’s eyes dropped to the rope around her wrists, and he grimaced. Throwing a dirty look over his shoulder at the gathered men, he reached out a hand to her.

“Are you all right?” His hand gently cupped her cheek before pushing back her hair. His voice dropped lower. “I missed you.”

Rosalie stiffened, finally finding her voice.

“How can you say that after what you did?” she hissed.

He pulled back slightly, looking pained. “I know the situation must have looked bad. But I thought you, at least, would trust me.”

Rosalie’s initial shock had given way to pain and anger, but even so, his final sentence made her pause. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but her traitorous heart had lurched at the initial sightof him. She wasn’t as impervious to him as she had thought. Was it possible she had misunderstood what happened the year before and misjudged him? Was he somehow a victim of these men just as she was?

She had claimed she loved him enough to plan a life with him. Had her love been so hollow that she had assumed the worst at the first opportunity without giving him the benefit of the doubt?

Jace must have read the hesitation in her voice because he stepped closer again, his hands dropping to hers as if he might undo her ties.

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he murmured, and again her heart lurched.

But this time it continued dropping, reaching her stomach and setting off a wave of nausea. She was no longer the inexperienced, impressionable girl she had been when they first met. He was standing freely in her captor’s midst while she was trussed up like a fowl on its way to the oven. She hadn’t misunderstood anything.

His words might have been designed to make a girl’s heart flutter, but she could see now what she should have seen from the start—the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. There was a coldness to his features and expression that was more obvious after meeting Dimitri. They might look similar, but Jace’s eyes were a flat brown that offered no depth to his supposed concern. She had known Dimitri for two days, but she had already seen more true concern in his hazel gaze than she could see now from the man who had claimed to love her. If she could detect any emotion in Jace’s eyes, it was detached amusement.

She leaned forward, her gaze locked with his as she closed the already small distance between them. Holding herself in place, she waited to see if his hands were actually going to untie her.As expected, however, he merely continued to clasp her fingers. Everything was an act—just as it had been a year ago.

She spat in his face, leaning back with satisfaction as he reeled away, sputtering in shock. His mask immediately slipped, revealing the cold anger and calculation beneath.