Page 154 of Hunted By Fae

She can run, hide, and maybe finish what I started with her—track from a distance, follow in the shadows, and find a way back.

It’s a longshot.

Maybe not a life worth living if she can’t make it to the end, but it must be better than the fate that awaits us with the dark fae.

I dragged her into my slight.

I dragged her to Canada when the threat of the darkness lingered, and I ignored it, let arrogance guide me.

It’s my fault she’s here, trapped on another continent, trapped with these barbaric warriors.

So I give her a chance.

She shifts her weight onto her boots, her cheek turned to me because I know she can’t bring herself to look at me for this.

I twist around in my restraints. “Dare.”

If all I can do is distract them for a moment, distract them enough that Tess can attempt to run, then that is what I will do.

Dare’s face hardens.

The ice male considers me with a distance in him.

“Please, don’t hurt her. Just take me. I’ll come willingly if you let her go—”

Panic strikes me as the ice male rips away from my side.

My voice lifts into a feral scream and I roll onto my side.

The glare of my panicked eyes follows him, the way he moves, like he’s shuddering through the cold air, and before Tesni has even taken a step away from the car, he’s on her.

“Let her go! Let her go!”

My screams go ignored.

The male has Tesni by the neck—and she lifts the handgun, as if to aim it at him, but with a strike of his hand, he smacks it out of her grip.

I thrash against the rope, coiled around me too tight, pinning my arms to my middle.

Dare stays crouched beside me, one hand fisted on the rope as though to let go means to risk my escape, but he watches the other warrior and warns, “Gentle.”

If it gives the ice fae pause, I don’t see it in the way he lifts Tesni off the ground, hand fisted around her throat—and he fucking flips her overhead before bringing her down on the car.

The choke of her landing on the hood is instant.

Her mouth parts around a hacked sound—then silence.

Winded, the heels of her boots kick up the windshield, her arms sprawled over the hood, and her lashes a dazed fluttering.

Dare sighs something soft, something disappointed. “They are a fragile kind, Samick.”

Samick.

His name.

The sound of it has my teeth baring, a silent snarl that morphs into a grimace—and I jolt with the tears rising through me.

Tesni is limp.