down the mountain. I’m still running as fast as I can, not caring in the slightest that I have no supplies, no water, no cell phone—nothing. But at least, out here, I’m alive and away from him.
I haven’t heard him behind me, but I know that doesn’t mean he hasn’t given chase.
But this time, I won’t stop.
When I reach the embankment I stumbled down last night, my footsteps aren’t panicked. They’re now confident and sure. I’m getting the hell out of here, and I’m not going to let him catch me again.
I sail over a small stream, my feet sinking into the muddy embankment on the other side. My white waitressing top snags on a branch when I run past it. A tearing sound follows, but I don’t slow.
My lungs are burning now, and my legs are thick with lactic acid. I’ve been sprinting for at least five minutes, and I know I can’t keep up this pace. I’ll need to slow to a jog if I want to escape him and keep putting distance between us.
Just a few more minutes, keep going until—
“Umph!” Something locks around my waist and stops me mid-stride. I’m lifted from the ground, and I know it’s him before I recognize the feel of his hard arms or detect his cedar scent. Instinctively, I thrash. “Let me go! Fuck you, you psychotic asshole! Let me go!”
I pummel and kick him, and when he turns me in his arms, I scratch at his face.
He hisses in pain when my nails rake down his cheeks. The sight of blood doesn’t stop me. If anything, it fuels my need for vengeance.
This asshole abducted me. He held me captive against my will. His psycho wolf has nearly killed me twice, and he won’t let me leave now even though I desperately want to. And that’s after he promised to take me home. He promised to let me go, but he’s not.
“You lied!” I scream. “You lied to me! I want to leave, and you said I could go!”
His arms tighten, pinning my limbs to my sides. I don’t give up despite his Herculean strength. Even though I’m gasping so hard I can barely breathe, I don’t stop fighting.
“Brianna.” The sound of my name on his lips sounds foreign. His voice is soft and tinged with regret. “Please stop. I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m sorry that my wolf attacked you. I want to take you home. I do, and I will, but if I let you leave like this, you probably won’t survive. Please, let me take you back to the cabin. We’ll finish packing, and we’ll go.”
“You mean you’ll finish packing while I’m tied to a chair?” I spit back.
“I won’t tie you up again. I promise.”
I finally go still. It’s useless to fight him anyway, and my body is burning so much from adrenaline and lactic acid that my thrashes have turned painful.
I shake my head and blink rapidly as tears threaten to fill my eyes. “You’re lying. You’re not going to take me home. You’re going to carry me to that cabin and then if you don’t kill me, your wolf will.”
His lips part, and his breath stops. Out here, in the bright sunshine, his eyes look stormy and troubled, as if a chasm of emotions lurk within their depths. I gasp when the scratches I inflicted on his face heal right before my eyes. The skin sews itself together like magic.
He swallows, his throat working, before he says, “I may be a lot of awful things, but I’m not a liar. I said I was going to take you home, and I will.”
“But why not just let me go now? Let me leave. Right here. Right now. Please.”
My plea comes out in an agonizing tone, and that pained and regretful look crosses his face again.
“I can’t. For your own safety, I can’t.”
I stiffen as he turns and begins marching us back up the mountain just as I predicted. The rational side of me, the tiny side that is still holding onto reason, knows that what he’s saying makes sense. Even though I’m in good shape, I’m on foot which means I’m days away from any town. And it’s dry and hot here. While I have no doubt I can walk the needed distance and survive the cooler nights, I don’t have any water, and I can’t survive dehydration.
But the other side of me—the one that’s running purely on instinct—doesn’t want to be anywhere