Another crash sounded to my right. I shrieked, nearly stumbling. I suddenly wasn’t so sure I wanted to do this. I’d been unprepared for the terror coursing through my veins at the darkness around me and the absolute certainty that I was now beingchased.
But I was safe. I reminded myself I knew my pursuer. This wasn’t like the last time, when I didn’t physically have to run, but I still needed to look over my shoulder at every turn. This was different. This was planned, and even out of control, I was still in charge of what ultimately happened.
And suddenly, that fear felt closer to deliciously painful instead ofI’m going to die.It became mine to claim instead of it claiming me.
I crested a hill and fully screamed as a shadow burst from the trees ahead of me. But I was smiling.
Sort of.
The figure stood in the middle of the path maybe fifty feet ahead, nothing but a silhouette in the near-dark. He was big. I'd almost forgotten how big. His hulking shoulders heaved, his muscled arms tense at his sides, legs planted wide apart.
He’d been so fast he’d circled around me, cutting me off.
My heart slammed so hard against my ribs I thought it might split in two.
I took a step back. The figure didn’t move.
The terror, for a moment, was real again, only I could recognize it as a base animal instinct pumping through me.
I ran again, this time cutting right, into the woods. Away from the creature on the road.
The panicky feeling was almost too much, like the ticking of a roller coaster up that first hill, when it’s far too late to get off.
My footsteps were loud, crashing through twigs and brush. But his were louder, and no matter where I ran, they seemed to get closer.
“I see you, little bunny,” Mitchell’s voice echoed from way too close.
I screamed, but it was too late. He was behind me, an iron-strong arm around my waist, lifting me off my feet. I kicked, instinct taking over as we tumbled to the ground together.
“No!” I cried.
“Say the word if you need to, Winona,” Mitchell’s low rumbling voice was in my ear. “Do you remember it?”
“I remember,” I grunted, shoving at the arm around me, adrenaline coursing through me.
“Tell me.”
“Butterfly. But I’m notsaying it.”
For a moment, I thought he might not follow through. That this was too much for him, too.
But he let out a growl, and then we were moving, rolling around on the ground, me pushing with my leg to ensure we didn’t stop yet. If we’d landed with him on top, I’d be done for. But we didn’t. We stopped with me on him, and I pushed off, twisting out of his grasp. “Fuck you, Wolf!” I cried, this close to kneeing him in the crotch before remembering I didn’t actually want to hurt him. Especially not there. I scrambled to my feet.
His hand swiped out, wrapping around my ankle.
I shrieked and fell, but the momentum pulled me out of his grasp. I took advantage, springing back to my feet and sprinting.
“Run, little bunny!” Mitchell called out. My stomach soared with adrenaline, my feet moving faster than they ever had before.
The ground had leveled out, and I was able to pick up even more speed. I thought, in fact, that I’d done it—I’d outmaneuvered him. He may have been fast and strong, but his bulk must have made it more difficult to get off the gr?—
I was sideswiped just as I emerged from the woods onto the palatial grounds of his estate. But I didn’t fall, even though I think he did, behind me.
I didn’t have time to think. Footfalls sounded behind me, heavy and strong. As I grew closer to the middle of the lawn, motion lights flared on, bright as a football field. Would the alarm sound next?
I sprinted harder. Maybe if I made it to the house, I’d win this round.
But I’d underestimated Mitchell Harrington. From the very beginning, I’d assumed he was something he wasn’t. Spoiled. Entitled. Angry. Rude.
