“Ignoring your destiny won’t alter it.”
She should have punched the annoying bastard. She didn’t believe in destiny. And even if she did, she would make damned sure that it didn’t include becoming a part of this Were’s harem.
Queen or no queen.
But oddly, it wasn’t fury that raced through her. It was…excitement.
“Just shut up,” she hissed.
She ignored his speculative gaze as the tunnel split in two, and they halted to study the less than appetizing options.
So far beneath the ground it was nearly impossible to determine which direction they were headed. Especially for Weres, who depended heavily on their sense of smell.
Salvatore hesitated a long moment, clearly no more confident than she was in knowing the best means of escape. Then, with a shrug, he took off down the left passageway.
“This way.”
With little choice, Harley followed in his wake. As soon as they were safely away from Caine, she would decide when and where to ditch the arrogant King of Weres.
For now, she was willing to allow him to keep her from being put back in that damned cell.
“If you get us lost down here, I’m not going to be happy,” she warned.
“And that would be a change?”
Ridiculously, his sardonic tone made her smile. “Smart ass.”
Silence descended as they continued to wind their way through the twists and turns of the narrow passageway, Salvatore’s steps slowing the farther they traveled.
She frowned as she studied the broad width of his shoulders that seemed to droop with weariness, and the blood that stained the back of his once elegant jacket.
When had he been injured? And why weren’t the wounds healing?
If they were truly deep, then he only had to shift. Once he was in wolf form he could repair even a grievous injury.
Her brooding thoughts were interrupted as they were forced to bend beneath a particularly low section of the tunnel, the distinct sound of a click echoing through the thick, silent air.
“What was that?” she breathed, already knowing it couldn’t be good.
Whirling around, Salvatore grabbed her arm and thrust her ahead of him.
“Run.”
“What is it?” she demanded, taking off with as much speed as possible in the cramped tunnel.
“A trap,” Salvatore rasped.
On cue, there was the sound of grinding metal, then dust began to filter from the sides of the passageway. Expecting yet another ceiling to fall on her head, or the floor to open up and swallow her, Harley was unpleasantly surprised when silver darts began shooting from hidden slots in the walls.
“Shit.”
She crouched low and charged through the dark, hissing as one of the darts sliced through the back of her arm. Two more darts yanked through her ponytail, and one passed close enough to her ear that she heard it whistle.
She lost track of time, focused on dodging the barrage of silver that continued to shoot from the dirt walls.
Not a bad thing to focus on, considering the dart she barely avoided before it slammed into her temple.
It was not until the pelting projectiles had slowed to an occasional unpleasant surprise that Harley at last realized that Salvatore had fallen several steps behind, his beautiful face covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair plastered to his head.