“Leave me alone!” I shouted.
Mist slithered up my calves like frozen fingers. Then a hand grasped my waist and yanked me backward. I hit the ground, and he landed on me. Solid and far too close.
His hair had loosened from its tie. His mouth was parted and flushed, as though he’d just finished kissing someone. His eyes held the same cold focus he’d worn while ending lives.
I planted my hands on his blood-splattered cuirass. Ipushed, but he was so massive it was like shoving a boulder.
He shifted, bracing his thigh against mine. The contact burned straight through my dress. Gods, what kind of monster was I to feel anything but horror for the hands that had drenched the dais red?
“Get off me,” I hissed.
His breathing dragged as if every ounce of control was being bled from him. A sound rumbled out of him—low, feral, not human.
It vibrated deep inside me.
His nostrils flared, and for a terrifying moment I thought he’d sink his teeth into me. Instead, he jerked back and hauled me upright.
My heart kicked like a trapped bird.
Then he grabbed a vine hanging from a tree. Ripping it free, he secured my wrists.
“What are you doing?”
He tightened the vines and then wrapped the other end around his fist. “Tying you up.”
“I gave you your freedom!”
The vines bit into my flesh. Chains again. The Runecloaks, the execution block, nowthis. Freedom wasn’t for people like me. It was always stolen.
Slowly, he faced me. He reeled me in. Inch by inch. Until I had to crane my neck to meet his punishing gaze.
“You broke the chain. Don’t mistake that for holding the leash.”
He turned around and yanked on the vine.
I stumbled forward.
Fae bastard.
“Keep up,” he said over his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want the forest to claim you before I do.”
13
BREAKING
Kairos led me deeper into the woods.
Mist carved through the vegetation ahead of us, ghostly tendrils snapping branches to clear our path. One brushed my skin, and I shuddered. They moved with such casual violence. They could easily wrap around my throat and squeeze.
The vines binding my wrists rubbed raw with every step. If I had a weapon, I’d end this on my terms rather than discover what “claiming” meant. Where was he taking me?
The forest changed as we walked. Darker. Wilder. Trees twisted into impossible shapes. Flowers bloomed the size of wagon wheels. Rich loam replaced moss beneath our feet, and water cut across in bubbling streams that we leapt over, stone to stone.
So many trees. Massive ones, lush and green where they should have been bare, not a trace of snow on their branches despite the winter we’d left behind. The light filtering through them was different—softer, golden, like late spring.
The forest whispered with sounds.
Lights danced between the trees. I thought they were fireflies, but when one landed on a fern near my face, I saw a tiny beast with butterfly wings and spindly legs. They bobbed in front of me, humming.
