gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.
—SONG OF SOLOMON 8:14
SOLO CARRIED VIKA AND her bag through the night, into the mountains. He had to be freezing. She was. And he was naked, and frost practically coated the air.
“I brought you clothes and shoes,” she said through chattering teeth. “They’re in the bag.”
Maybe he replied, maybe he didn’t. Either way, he kept going.
What had happened inside the tent . . . Total devastation was the only way to describe it. He had morphed into the raging red beast the others had called him. He had hurt people. He had killed.
He had protected.
She hadn’t been afraid of him, and the knowledge had stunned her. He would never hurt her, and deep down, where the knowing he’d taught her about swirled, she’d understood that. She’d been afraid for him.
Any moment, someone could have walked into the tent with a gun and shot him. If that had happened, her father would have killed him, not just to punish him for what he’d done but because Jecis would have feared him, even behind the cage.
“I can walk,” she said, not wanting him to have to carry the entire burden of their escape.
He set her down without ever breaking stride, clasped her hand, and dragged her behind him. They maneuvered around trees—so many trees!—and over thick stumps. An eternity later, he glanced back at her.
“Questions? Concerns? Comments?”
“Where are we?” she asked. Jecis hadn’t said. All she knew was that she’d never been here.
“The New Kolyma region of the Russian Far East.”
“Siberia?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Up, up, faster and faster, he led her through the snow. Snow on the ground, snow on the beautiful trees. A true winter wonderland, stunning in its beauty. Harsh in its treachery. How quickly could a person freeze to death out here?
Sadly, that wasn’t the least of her troubles. Jecis would follow. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. He would feel no rush. After all, he could locate Solo at any time. But he would gather the troops and come after them.
Vika would be wise to ditch Solo now and strike out on her own. It was what she’d planned to do while they were trapped in the Nolands. Now . . .
She just couldn’t bring herself to leave him.
He looked back at her, saying, “Shout if you need me to stop.”
“I will.” And she almost shouted a thousand times in the next five minutes, but somehow, she held the sound inside. She wanted as much distance between them and the circus as possible, even if she had to suffer to get it.
The higher up the mountain they went, the thicker the trees became and the rockier the terrain. Eventually, Vika lost track of time. All she knew was that she was shivering uncontrollably and her muscles were as heavy as boulders. Her lungs burned.
Solo glanced back at her a second time, slowed his pace, then stopped. “We’ll stop for the night,” he said. He wasn’t winded and didn’t seem cold.
“Because you found a safe place?” she asked hopefully.
“Because you’re tired.”
As she’d suspected. “I don’t care. Keep going until you find a safe place.” They needed every advantage they could get.
He studied her intently, pride glowing in those baby blues. “Very well.”
Was that pride directed at her?
She expected to leap back into motion. Instead, he dropped the bag and unzipped the top. The clothes she’d stolen from her father rested on top. Although not a single garment belonged to Jecis. Rather, Jecis had stolen them from the Targon and were the perfect size for Solo.
Size—the reason no one human had bought them. The material was as black as night, and possessed a soft, luxuriant quality.
He slipped into the shirt and the pants, then with drew the clothes she’d brought for herself and tossed them at her.
“How about we leave the bag behind?” he asked as he tugged on the socks and boots.
What? “No!” Removing her coat was actually painful, the cold air biting at every section of exposed skin, but somehow she found the strength to do it. Next she shucked the dress.
Solo averted his eyes, saying, “It’s excess baggage, and I mean that literally.”
“It’s my life.” The sweatshirt and pants bagged on her, but oh, they were toasty warm, having been snuggled up to Solo’s body during the entire trek.
“I heard jewelry banging around in there.”
“Exactly.”
An eager gleam that rivaled the beauty of the moonlight entered his eyes. “I’ll buy you new ones.”
When she’d gone to hell