“Dark?! How long was I out?”
“All day,” Wyatt huffs as if I’m a huge inconvenience to him. “Just think, you could have been in a nice warm bed by now if you’d let me take you where we were heading.” I don’t ask where exactly that is, refusing to let Wyatt bait me.
Keeping my expression blank, I push myself to my feet, carefully testing my balance through the tent, which is easily large enough to sleep six. I don’t miss the way Wyatt’s eyes track my every move, cautious as ever. Trust will never be something that comes easy with us, and for good reason.
Stepping outside, the cold grips me in its firm hold, stealing a puff of visible air from my mouth. I’m struck by the winter air colliding with a layer of sweat coating my body, thanks to being swaddled in a blanket, sweatpants, and a very familiar orange hoodie. Beyond the cold, my muscles scream in protest, every bruise and scrape from the crashmaking their presence known. I stumble slightly, exaggerating the limp. Upon glancing back, I note how Wyatt’s gaze softens just a fraction before he turns his attention back to Baxter.
My steps start slow. As I reach the tree line, I glance back, ensuring he’s preoccupied, before slipping into the cover of the forest. I make sure I’m out of sight before attending to my needs, dignity flying away on the wings of a bird bursting through the branches. I flinch at the sudden sound, righting my clothing and taking a step back towards the tent. Then I pause. It’s quiet out here, a frozen moon-coated landscape in the middle of nowhere.
I have no idea where I am, but there’s a road cutting through the forest nearby. Roads lead to towns; towns have people. Wyatt intends to walk us towards civilization, no doubt refusing to let me out of his sight for a single second. I’ll be his pet without a leash, firmly under his control for as long as I’m in his overbearing presence.
The question is, how much do I trust him? Wyatt has vowed to keep me safe, in his own demented possessive way, but I don’t care about staying safe. I care about saving Meg from an evil she doesn’t understand. I know Fredrick. I know his ways. His cues. I’ve spent the last ten years failing to forget them. I survived him once, and I can do it again.
My eyes track the direction the bird flew. Endless tree trunks, a forest floor littered with dead leaves. I don’t think. I don’t second guess myself. I just bolt.
Chapter Three
My legs pump as I weave through the dense woodland, the sting of branches slicing at my cheeks barely registering. Every shallow breath claws its way out of my lungs, my head pounding in rhythm with my thundering heart. Along with the rashness of my decision, the forest seems to have come to life and is actively conspiring against me. Roots jut up like traps; shadows play tricks with my eyes. I push through, my only focus being on getting far away. On my only shot at taking back some control.
The forest floor crunches beneath my sneakers, every sound amplified in the silence. I try to lighten my steps, but being stealthy is impossible. Panic claws its way through my straining limbs, unknown traumas from the crash deciding to now present themselves. I become vaguely aware of an insistent tug in my ribs, pain blossoming across my hip on the same side. The side I fell on when the car overturned. It doesn’t matter right now. All I can think is, I can’t let Wyatt stop me from saving my twin.
Veering right, I sense the road is close. The tree line chasing me comes to a sudden halt up ahead, the stark emptiness beyond that of a manmade design. I don’t want to breach it yet, revealing myself to anyone who might come looking, so I just keep moving. Keep running, using the cover of the forest as my camouflage. I can’t hear anythingbeyond the chaotic symphony of my own body. Gasping breaths, racing pulse, blood roaring in my ears. Then, the stillness shatters.
“Avery!” Wyatt’s commanding voice echoes through the trees. The sound sends a spike of adrenaline through me. I don’t look back. My body screams for rest, every muscle burning, but I force it to keep going, driven by sheer will. Becoming careless, I skid over loose rocks, my footing faltering for a moment before I caught myself. Behind me, the sound of his footsteps grows louder, steadier, and unrelenting.
“You can’t outrun me!” Wyatt’s voice pierces the air again, closer this time. I duck behind a massive oak, pausing for a split second to press myself against its rough bark. My chest heaves as I try to silence my breathing, to listen past the pounding of my heart. The trees around me hum with an unnatural stillness. Then, just as I think he’s lost my trail, I hear the crunch of leaves. Deliberate, careful footsteps, moving closer.
Panic flares white-hot in my chest. In less than a minute, he’ll be passing by, seeing me scared and shivering. Wyatt is right; I can’t outrun him, but my body doesn’t get the memo. I break cover, darting toward a patch of denser trees ahead, the promise of thicker shadows urging me forward. But the open stretch is a trap, every step too exposed. I risk a glance over my shoulder and regret it instantly.
He’s right there.
A flash of broad shoulders and clenched fists. Bathed in moonlight, his focus centered on me. A figure cutting through the trees with terrifying ease. His zip hoodie hangs open, flapping like dark wings as he steadily closes the gap. Wyatt is fast, his strides calculated, and his focus unshakable.
Desperation claws at me. I push harder, faster, the undergrowth tearing at my legs. The road ahead looms closer, the thinning trees a cruel betrayal. The choice is to stay in the woods with Wyatt hunting me down or running out into the road and hoping a car isn’t going too fast to stop. My lungs burn, my vision blurs, but I won’t allow myself to stop. I won’t let him win easily.
Behind me, Wyatt has broken into a run. His footsteps thunder, each one louder than the last.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Avery,” his voice carries, sharp and cutting. I stumble, my foot catching on a twisted root. Pain explodes in my ankle, sharp and unforgiving. A cry rips from my throatas I go down, hitting the dirt hard. For a moment, the world tilts, and I feel the cold bite of hopelessness.
Wyatt’s arms wrap around me like steel bands, wrenching me upright. I scream, thrashing wildly, my nails clawing at his arms, but his grip is immovable. He spins me to face him, his eyes blazing like twin emerald fires.
“Enough,” he growls, his voice low but carrying the weight of finality. “I’m not your enemy here.”
“Yes, you are!” I fight harder, twisting and kicking, but it’s like trying to break free of a storm. His hands shift, gripping my wrists and pinning them between us. The first touch of wetness seeps into my cheek. I twist my head aside, desperately trying to free my hands for another reason now. I won’t let Wyatt see me cry. Yet he’s unmovable, slowly leaning over me. His breath brushes against my ear as he whispers, softer now.
“I’m not letting go.” Something in his tone cuts through me, a raw edge that drains the last of my strength. My knees buckle, and he catches me, his hands steadying me as I sag against him, trembling.
“Please,” I rasp the plea, my voice shaking as much as my body. “I have to get to Meg. I have to save her.” Wyatt sighs, his grip loosening just enough to let me breathe but not escape.
“You know I can’t let you do that.” His words hang between us, heavy and suffocating. For a long moment, neither of us moves. His forehead rests against mine, the heat of his presence overwhelming. My breath hitches as I realize there’s no escape. Not from him, not from whatever this damaged and unnurtured thing is between us.
I almost concede. Until Meg’s face flashes before my eyes in the dark. Has he got to her yet? Is she terrified and alone? My jaw aches with the desire to scream until my lungs burn, but I manage to hold it in. Just. Wyatt’s hands have loosened on my wrists, the weight of his forehead on me lulling me back to the present. I inhale, count to three, and bring my knee up between his legs. I might not be able to outrun him, but I can hurt him.
Except Wyatt wasn’t as unaware as I’d hoped. He jerks back just in time, his hands clenched around my wrists painfully. Those eyes blaze now, furious and somewhat disappointed.
“Fuck you, Wyatt!” I scream into the night, twisting with renewedvigor. I don’t stop this time, I give him everything I’ve got. “You can’t keep me prisoner forever.”
“I don’t need to,” he grinds out, his voice winded by my elbow meeting his sternum. “Only until you’re safe from harm.” On a quick spin, he wrenches my arms behind my back and starts to drag me in the direction of the tent. My feet dig for purchase in the earth, to no avail. My struggles are to my own detriment, wearing me out quickly. I’m doing half the work for him, subduing myself until I’m panting thick clouds of air before my face.
