Page 4

There were three of them. She didn’t know how she knew, only that the instinct curled inside her bones and shrieked with truth.

Her lungs burned. Her heart felt like it would beat its way free from her chest. All she could think was to run.

Run faster. Just a little further. Maybe they’ll lose me. Maybe Tav will come.

A branch caught her arm, tearing through the fabric of her sleeve and scratching down to the skin.

She didn’t stop. The forest was thick, but not thick enough.

Her boots slipped in the mud, her legs shaking from the uneven ground, and the moment she stumbled—just a single misstep—she knew it was over.

A hand closed around her waist like an iron band, and she screamed as she was yanked backwards.

She kicked, thrashed, threw her head back with all the strength she had left. “Let go o’ me!”

A cry broke from her lips, torn and raw. The thick arm snared her waist tighter, hoisting her from the ground as though she were weightless. Her legs kicked, frantic, but the man’s grip was firm.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, clawing at his gloved hands, her nails scratching uselessly against the rough leather. Her body twisted, desperate, feral with fear.

"Stop yer struggling," the man growled in a low voice, reeking of drink and sweat. He threw her to the ground. The air left her lungs in a violent gasp as her back hit the sodden earth. Her vision blurred for a moment, stars bursting across the dark canopy above.

Before she could scramble away, he was on her again. Rope bit into her wrists, yanked cruelly behind her back. Her ankles were bound next, tight enough to make her cry out.

Agnes screamed again, hoarse and hopeless. It echoed through the trees, a pitiful sound swallowed by the woods.

Panic swelled in her chest, making her throat close. She could barely breathe, her body stiffening under the weight of helplessness. Her mind grasped at anything, anyone—Tav. She wanted Tav.

She blinked hard, tears slipping down her temples into her hair.

Nay. I cannae die like this. Nae here, nae like some discarded thing in the woods.

The man above her grinned, cruel and triumphant.

But then came a sound that split through the trees like a crack of thunder.

A horse.

The ground seemed to tremble with its approach, and then came a deep, commanding shout.

"Get away from her!"

Tav. He is alive.

Relief flooded her, staggering in its force. She sobbed his name even as her bound hands scraped at the dirt in a futile attempt to sit up.

The soldier turned just as Tav’s horse came into view, storming through the brush like some beast of vengeance. Tav was already leaping from the saddle, sword drawn, fury etched in every line of his face.

The man holding her barely had time to react. Tav descended on him with the merciless precision of someone who had fought for survival far too many times. Steel clashed with steel as another two men charged from behind the trees, surrounding Tav.

Agnes could do nothing but lie there, the cold seeping through her clothes into her bones, watching with wide eyes as he fought. She had never seen a man so fierce.

Blood sprayed across the undergrowth. Tav took a blow to the side—she saw it, saw the sharp recoil of his body, the dark stain blooming across his tunic. But he didn’t fall.

He roared as he turned, driving his blade through one attacker’s stomach. The man gasped and fell with a gurgle. A body hitting the ground.

Tav stood there, chest heaving, sword trembling slightly in his grip. Blood ran from the gash across his side, soaking into the leather of his armor.

"Agnes," he rasped.

She didn’t respond at first. She couldn’t. Her throat refused to work. Her limbs felt far away.

He stumbled toward her, dropping to his knees in the mud.

"Ye’re safe now," he said, but his voice was hollow, as though he didn’t quite believe it himself.

He reached for the ropes and began untying her, his fingers slick with blood. She flinched when his hand brushed hers, but then the warmth of his palm settled against her wrist, firm and reassuring.

"I’ve got ye," he said again, more quietly this time.

When the ropes finally fell away, she moved slowly, her body aching and trembling. Tav helped her sit up, then gathered her close, arms circling her in a protective embrace.

Agnes shuddered against him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. The scent of him was a balm, anchoring her to the present.

"I thought… I thought I was going tae die," she whispered.

His hand cradled the back of her head.

"Nae while I still draw breath," he said, voice rough with pain and something else. Something darker.

She pulled back then, eyes wide as she registered the blood on his side.

"Ye’re hurt."

"It’s naething," he lied.

"It’s nae naething."

He looked at her, really looked, and something in his expression shifted.

"We have tae go," he said. "Now."

"The others?——"

His jaw clenched. That was answer enough. She said nothing more, and he didn’t either. He helped her up, his breath hitching as he did. She wanted to protest, to insist he rest, but there was no time.

With effort, he lifted her onto his horse. His palms burned through her skirts as if the fabric didn’t exist. Agnes sucked in a breath, too aware of how his fingers spanned nearly the whole width of her waist, how easily he’d handled her weight like she was nothing, even when wounded.

Then he was climbing up behind her, his chest pressing against her back.

God . She’d never been this close to him before.

She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, to catch the scent of leather and steel beneath.

His hands settled around her waist again, this time possessive, anchoring her against him as if he expected her to bolt.

Her traitorous body stayed utterly still, every nerve alight where he touched her.

Then they were off, the horse thundering through the trees, away from the carnage.

Agnes couldn’t bring herself to look back.

Her hands trembled in her lap, still smeared with dirt and blood. Every bump in the road sent a jolt through Tav’s body, and she felt it—the way he gritted his teeth, the wet heat of his blood against her back.

She closed her eyes, biting back the sob in her throat.

They were alone now.

And though she had never been more afraid, she had also never been more certain:

Everything had changed.