Page 48

I don’t listen. I know what’s best. I have to protect her. She’s mine to protect.

“Zayne, I think you should back away. I think you should go.”

Her voice is a jumble of words that filter through my brain but don’t make much sense. I know what I need to do. As the man gets closer, I leap. We crash to the ground, and I have my hands around his throat. I won’t let him hurt her. I won’t let him take her to my father. I promised myself. She’s mine to protect. Mine!

I see the face below me through blood. Something twinges in my conscience. I know that face. It doesn’t stop me. I have to protect her at all costs. The thought of her locked in a cell at my father’s mercy…

Suddenly, something lands on my back hard, hands tug at my hair, and the scent of pine and snow fills my nostrils. For a moment, I go still, every muscle locking. My hands loosen, and the man beneath me kicks out. He catches me in the balls, agony shoots through me, and I growl. But Amber is pulling me away, and the man scrambles out from under me.

“Fucking asshole,” he says. “Keep your dog on a goddamn leash, Amber.”

I’m lying on the ground with her arms wrapped around me, and I don’t want to move. I don’t want her to move. I feel safe for the first time in as long as I can remember. She’s holding me tight. I look down and see small hands clutching my chest. And all the strength drains out of me.

We lie there for a minute, breathing together, and then her grip loosens, and she pulls away. I want to scream. At the same time, I have to get out of here. I have to get my brain to function, work out what’s happening, how I got here, where the danger is coming from.

She shuffles away behind me. She’s probably afraid of me now, and I don’t blame her.

I am a monster.

Chapter 19

Our Course is Set

The sun is just rising, and there’s a chill in the air, but I’ve had enough of lying here pretending to sleep. I’ve spent what remained of the night watching Khaosti pace back and forth in the moonlight, occasionally slamming his fist into an odd, undeserving tree trunk.

I called out to him once; he just looked at me, turned away, and punched the tree again. Is he pretending it’s me? Is he sorry I got him out of his nice, cozy dungeon?

Did I ever really want Khaosti back?

I must have forgotten what an asshole he is for a while. And now he’s actually ten times worse. I get it, and I don’t blame him;he’s been through a lot. But right now, I do not need the added complications. I want take-charge Khaosti back. Bossy Khaosti.

I sigh and tug on my hair, which is in a very, very messy plait. I can’t be bothered to do anything about it. What does it matter?

Everyone else is sitting around the dead fire, chewing on lumps of dead meat, blood dripping onto the sand. It’s disgusting. I’m munching on an apple; it’s all that’s left, the biscuits are gone. I suspect Zayne and Josh might have pinched the last of them. My stomach growls.

What am I going to eat? I have no clue.

I glance over to where Khaosti is now sitting on a rock by the river, staring into space, seemingly in a world of his own. My heart hurts a little—okay, a lot. He’s so beautiful. I can see his strong profile. His eyes are slowly going back to normal, but they still have a sheen of crimson. All his muscles are tense. His body is long and lean. Too lean. His clothes are too big for him now. I’ll have to get him a belt, along with some food for me, and a lot of other things. Blankets would be good. A bottle of wine, or brandy maybe. I have fond memories of drinking brandy in Valandria.

I go across to the fire and crouch down. Winter has collected some broad, thick leaves from some sort of plant to use as plates. I pick up one and place some of the meat onto it. Then I go across to where Khaosti is sitting. He takes no notice of me whatsoever. I grit my teeth, reach out my free hand, and touch him lightly on the shoulder. He jumps as though he’s been shot.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarls.

Right, don’t touch him. Okaaaay, I can do that. I take a deep breath and tell myself for the hundredth repetition that I’ve got to give him time.

“Here, I brought you some food,” I say.

Finally, he turns to look at me. I can see the pain in his face, the confusion, the hurt, and underneath it all—anger. A shiverruns through me. Khaosti angry is a force of nature. I’ve seen it before. But he takes the meat. He doesn’t say thank you, but he does eat it. I watch, unwilling to walk away.

I really thought we had something that night. For God’s sake, I told him I loved him. Was I crazy? Probably. But it’s still there, like a deep ache in my heart that I can’t let go of, however much I want to. There’s something about Khaosti that was present from the moment we met. I wanted him. And I’d never wanted anyone before in my whole life. It felt like we were fated for each other. And I can’t believe I just thought that. I’m obviously an asshole as well.

He swallows the last of his meat, and I can see him make a visible effort to relax, some of the tension draining from his shoulders.

“Is Zayne okay?” he asks. I presume he’s referring to the fact that he nearly strangled him last night.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He shifted briefly and was good as new afterward.”

He doesn’t respond. I glance across to the fire. Zayne is leaning over Winter, helping her pack up the rest of the meat for the journey. He whispers something in her ear, and she smiles. They look…close? That’s interesting. But a little shiver of unease runs through me. I want the best for Zayne. And I don’t know Winter well enough to determine whether that is what she is. There’s something not quite right about Winter. But maybe that’s just my imagination. Maybe I want Zayne to myself, even if I only see him as a brother. I guess I’m selfish that way.