Flora said nothing, just stared at the forest with those terrified eyes.
“What about ye, plump girl?” Lewis sneered at Piper. “Got a plan? Or are ye just goin’ to waddle into the woods and hope for the best?”
Anger flared in Piper’s chest. Two months of abuse, two months of fear, two months of being called worthless and ugly and fat. She was done.
“I’m goin’ to survive,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt. “And then I’m goin’ to watch ye hang for this.”
Lewis’s face darkened. He raised his hand as if to strike her, but one of the lairds had ridden close enough to see. Lewis lowered his hand with obvious reluctance.
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered. “We’ll see.”
The lairds formed a line, their horses stamping and snorting. Piper couldn’t make out their faces clearly, but she could feel their eyes on her. On all of them. Assessing. Choosing their prey.
“Ready the horn!” Lewis shouted.
Piper’s whole body tensed. Her mind raced through possibilities. The forest was closest, but everyone would run there. The cliffs were dangerous but offered a better chance if she could find a path down. The open ground was suicide.
The forest. Run for the forest and daenae stop. Daenae look back. Just run.
The man raised the horn to his lips.
Time seemed to slow. Piper could hear her own heartbeat, thunderous in her ears. Could feel the cold morning air on her skin. Could smell the earth and trees and her own fear.
Please. Please let me survive this. I daenae want to die. Nae like this.
The horn sounded, a long, mournful note that echoed across the clearing.
“Run!” Lewis roared. “Run, ye stupid lasses!”
Piper ran.
She ran as fast as her legs could go toward the trees. Beside her, Gabriella veered left toward the cliffs. Madison headed straight for the deepest part of the forest despite her limp. Flora stumbled, caught herself, and kept going.
Behind them, the thunder of hoofbeats began.
Faster. Run faster.
Piper’s lungs burned. Her side cramped. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The tree line was so close, just a few more yards?—
“I see ye, bonnie!”
The voice came from behind and to her right. Close. Too close. Piper risked a glance back and saw a laird on a gray horse, grinning like a wolf. He was older, his face cruel, his eyes hungry.
“Ye cannae outrun me, lass! I’ve got ye now!”
Piper pushed harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The trees were right there. If she could just reach them, maybe she could hide, maybe?—
The hoofbeats were right behind her.
At the last second, Piper dove sideways, rolling into a thicket of bushes. Thorns tore at her dress, scratched her skin, but she bit down on her scream. The horse thundered past, the laird cursing.
“Where’d ye go? Come out, come out, little mouse!”
Piper pressed herself against the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her heart hammered so hard she was sure he could hear it. Through the branches, she could see the laird circling his horse, searching.
Please daenae find me. Please.
“I ken ye’re here,” the laird sing-songed. His voice made her skin crawl. “I can smell yer fear. Smell yer sweat. Ye’re a plump little thing, arenae ye? I like that. More to hold onto when I claim ye.”
