In an instant, Crawford was in front of her. His hand shot out, fisting the fabric of her shirt. The sudden stop pulled her off balance, and she stumbled forward, the momentum sending her straight to his waiting arms.
His hands locked around her waist, squeezing her tight against him. A solid wall of muscle and armour pressed against her back, keeping her in place. Still, she struggled for freedom.
His grip painfully tightened, his fingers bruising her flesh.
Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he dipped his head, nose brushing her hair as he inhaled.
She froze. The fight bled out of her as disgust curled in her stomach. She shuddered and tried to lean away, twisting her shoulders until the rope at her wrists bit into her skin. But every inch of distance she created, he closed.
With her hands tied behind, and no other option, Luna brought her hoof down on his foot. Hard.
Crawford howled, “You little witch.”
He deserved worse—hounds behaved better than him.
Before she could strike again, his arms hooked around her knees. In one brutal motion, he swept her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder.
Luna roared, fury tearing through her as she thrashed against his body. Bucking and jerking, she hurled her weight this way and that, desperate to break free, but he held firm.
Frantically, she kicked her legs. Nothing with enough strength to affect him landed; her hooves only swung wildly through the air.
“I did miss your fire,” Crawford cooed as he strolled towards the carriage.
In the distance, Luna heard Damien ask Arleen, “Did they hurt you? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Arleen answered, her voice filled with a heartwarming smile that, if Luna wasn’t busy trying to fight off this hound, she was sure she would have seen.
Crawford tried to set her down inside the carriage, but Luna held her legs wide, her hooves pushing against the edges of the door, refusing to enter. Harlow and Knox closed in, surrounding her so that even if she were to get free, there would be nowhere to run.
“Fight all you want, Nina. It only makes the trip more interesting,” Crawford said, his breathing ragged as he struggled to control her.
Knox reached out, his fingers caressing her hair, grabbing a lock around his finger and giving it a small tug. “As much as I like watching others do things the hard way, there are more enjoyable options . . .” A smile that could only be described as evil curved his lips as he added, “At least for me.”
She felt it then. Knox’s presence sliding into her mind—not like someone barging in through a door, but like silk gliding over skin.
He didn’t storm it, he only drummed along it. Slow. Patient. Each tap a vibration, rippling down into the weave of her mind.
His touch skimmed along the threads of her thoughts, her memories, the fragile line of her will. Then he tugged, light at first, almost curious. The thread strained under his touch. She groaned as he drew it taut, thin as a hair.
Her breath hitched. A sharp ache rippled through her chest as every part of her felt ready to give way. Ready to break.
A ragged sound tore from her throat as her knees buckled.
In an instant, Crawford was there, shoving him back.
Immediately, the claws retracted and sweet, beautiful relief followed.
“Get your grubby paws off what’s mine,” Crawford sneered.
Mine?The word chilled her as much as Knox slipping into her head.
Knox sat back on his heels, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Fine. Do it the hard way then.”
“Good,” Damien answered his sister, completely oblivious to the utter hell Luna was experiencing. “Marion, take her inside before they change their mind.”
Marion must have nodded in agreement because she said, “Come, Arleen. I’ll make you a pot of tea and help you settle in.”
Impatiently, one of the creatures hooked up to the carriage pawed at the ground, causing it to rock. Their clawed feet sent shards of burnt earth flying in all directions.
