Chapter 8

I jerk away from Alistair’s reaching hand so violently that I slam my already bruised shoulder into the carriage wall.

Pain explodes through me, but I don’t make a sound. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

He pauses, his hand suspended in the air between us. In the dim light filtering through the carriage windows, his face is all sharp angles and shadows, predatory and unreadable.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, his voice low.

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “Right. Because you’re known for your gentle treatment of women.”

Something flickers across his face, too quick to identify. Then his expression hardens back into that cold mask.

“Believe what you want,” he says flatly. “But we’re stopping here for the night, and you need to get out.”

“Why? So your guards can have their entertainment?”

His eyes flash dangerously. “My guards know better than to lay a hand on what’s mine.”

*What’s mine.* Like I’m a possession. A thing.

“I’d rather stay in here,” I say through clenched teeth.

“That wasn’t a request.”

He reaches for me again, and this time I can’t pull away fast enough. His hand closes around my upper arm, not painfully, but firm enough that I can feel the raw strength in his grip.

He pulls me toward the carriage door with effortless ease, like I weigh nothing.

“Let go of me!” I struggle against him, but it’s useless. My bound hands and weakened body are no match for his power.

He lifts me out of the carriage as if I’m a child, setting me on my feet in the cold evening air. I stumble immediately, my legs are stiff from hours of being cramped in the same position.

Alistair steadies me with one hand, and I hate how small I feel next to him. How powerless.

We’re in a clearing surrounded by dense forest. His guards have already set up several tents and a large fire. They all stop what they’re doing to watch us, their expressions carefully neutral.

“Walk,” Alistair commands, his hand still gripping my arm.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from camp.”

Terror spikes through me. “No. No, I’m not…”

“I said walk.” His voice drops to something dangerous and final.

He starts pulling me toward the tree line, and I have no choice but to stumble along beside him or be dragged.

The moment we’re out of sight of the camp, he releases me.

I immediately try to run.

I make it exactly three steps before he catches me again, spinning me around and slamming me back against a tree trunk. The impact knocks the air from my lungs.

“Are you stupid or suicidal?” he growls, his face inches from mine.

“I won’t make this easy for you,” I gasp. “Whatever you’re planning to do to me, I’ll fight you every step…”

“I’m not planning to do anything to you, you foolish woman.”

I freeze, confused.

Alistair steps back, running a hand through his dark hair in what almost looks like frustration.

“Do you have any idea what’s out here?” he asks, gesturing to the dark forest around us. “This territory is crawling with rogues. Feral wolves who would tear you apart for sport.”

“Better them than you,” I spit back.

His jaw tightens. “Is that what you think? That I brought you out here to kill you?”

“Didn’t you?”

For a long moment, he just stares at me. Then, to my utter shock, he pulls out a knife.

I press myself harder against the tree, my heart hammering.

But instead of moving toward me, he turns the knife around and slices through the ropes binding my wrists.

I stare at my freed hands in disbelief, then up at him.

“What…”

“Survive the night out here,” he says quietly, “and I’ll tell you the truth about how your parents really died.”

My breath catches. “What?”

“You heard me.” He sheathes the knife and steps back. “Make it until dawn, and I’ll answer one question truthfully. Any question you want.”

I shake my head, trying to process this. “This is insane. Why would you…”

“Because I need to know if you’re worth the trouble,” he interrupts. His ice-gray eyes bore into mine. “I need to know if there’s actually any strength underneath all that pathetic victim act, or if you’re just another weak woman who’ll break at the first real challenge.”

Rage floods through me, hot and violent.

“I am NOT weak,” I snarl.

“Prove it.” He turns and starts walking back toward camp.

“Wait!” I call after him, panic rising. “You can’t just leave me out here! I don’t have a wolf, I haven’t eaten in days, I’m injured…”

He glances back over his shoulder, his expression utterly cold.

“Then I guess you’ll die,” he says simply. “And save me the trouble of dealing with you.”

“You bastard!”

But he’s already disappearing into the darkness, his footsteps fading away.

I’m alone.

Completely, utterly alone in a hostile forest with night falling fast and no way to defend myself.

For a moment, I just stand there, trembling with shock and fury and terror.

Then I hear it…a low, menacing growl from somewhere in the shadows to my left.

My blood turns to ice.

Yellow eyes appear in the darkness between the trees. Then another pair and another.

Three feral rogues, their lips pulled back to show razor-sharp teeth.

And they’re moving closer.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​