* * *
I hate these woods. I hate the trees, so large even Shaw wouldn’t be able to wrap his arms around their trunks. I hate their gnarled roots that run underfoot like giant veins. I hate the sickly-sweet scent of them and the way the very air clings to my skin, pasting my curls to my forehead and neck. I hate the uneven ground and ache of my muscles.
My toes hook under a root and I screech loudly, stumbling over a log. My wrist barks in pain as I shove myself back to my feet with a furious huff of breath. Shaw doesn’t even break stride, his face as unruffled as ever.
Most of all, I hatehim.
The reason I’m stuck in these Covinus-forsaken woods. Only a day earlier, hate was a foreign word, one I never spoke, let alone felt. But with his smug smiles and handsome face, Shaw has opened up a gaping chasm of it within me. I hate him so fiercely I feel I’ll burn with it every time he sets his eyes to mine.
We’ve been walking for less than an hour, during which time he’s amused himself with belittling everything about my existence. Only determination keeps my rage buried deep. That and the absolute refusal to grant him the pleasure of knowing he’s gotten under my skin. He may be in control of my physical person, but I’ll be damned if he controls my mind as well.
If only we were out of these horrible trees, I’d be able to think clearly again. I could ignore Shaw’s taunting and come up with a plan of escape, but something in the thick foliage clouds my mind and leaves me feeling disjointed.
Low hanging branches sting my face like whips and insects buzz unpleasantly around my head, darting into my ears and pricking my skin. Finally, Shaw throws up his hands and begrudgingly announces that we’re taking a break.
I collapse to the ground and swear I can hear my bones cry out in relief. My throat is dry and swollen and I can feel every muscle with an agonizing clarity. It’s like my body has aged twenty years in only a few days’ time.
You don’t look like you’ve fought for anything a day in your life.
I scowl at Shaw’s words and mutter a curse under my breath. I am fighting now, and it isn’t a pleasant experience.
“Didn’t take you long to pick up our colorful vocabulary,” Calloway notes.
The leaves rustle beside me and though I would rather continue to stare at the canopy and contemplate just how far off kilter my life is at the moment, I look over to see him situating himself next to me. “Thought you might be thirsty,” he says by way of greeting and hands me a canteen.
I don’t even bother to sit up before I gulp greedily, the cool water spilling into my neck and hair. My mind instantly sharpens. I take a few more sips before reluctantly handing the canteen back to Calloway.
“Keep it. I’ve got another one in my bag.” He waves me off.
He stretches his thin body next to me, cradling his head in his interlocked palms and staring up at the trees. His red hair is bright against the dim light of the forest and his freckles practically jump off his tanned skin. When he feels my eyes, he turns his head and shoots me a kind, lopsided grin.
It isn’t an expression directed at me often, and in spite of myself, I smile back at him shyly. “Thank you,” I say and find that I mean it.
Shaw and Max stand a few feet away, having an animated discussion in hushed tones. Judging by their furtive glances in my direction, I am clearly the subject.
“It’s hard to get used to hiking through the woods, isn’t it?” Calloway asks genially. He takes some dried fruit from his bag and offers it to me. I tear into it without hesitation, remembering my earlier conversation with Shaw. I may hate him, but he’s right about starving myself getting me nowhere. I’m going to need all my strength to escape.
“Yeah,” I admit, taking another bite. It’s leathery, but pleasantly tangy.
“It’s something that takes practice, like anything else.”
I raise a brow doubtfully. There is no amount of practice that would award me the complete control over my body Shaw seems to employ. When I wasn’t falling, I watched him move between the trees. He held his head high and moved over the lush grounds as if he was born to do just that. Even when I watched the ground as hard as I could, I still slid on the gravel or tripped over tree stumps.
Cal smiles. “It really is. Max grew up in the southern isles and she had a really hard time when we first took her into the woods. And look at her now.”
I steal a furtive glance at the girl. She hasn’t spoken more than two words to me since that first day and I can’t decide whether or not it’s a blessing. But Calloway is right. She moves like Shaw, effortless and powerful.
As if sensing she’s the topic of conversation, Max saunters toward us suddenly, the defined muscles of her abdomen rippling in time to her strut. “I would appreciate you not selling information about me to aLemming,” she says, her full lips twisted in distaste. I drop my eyes to the ground and bite my lip. Words seem to fight their way out of my mouth around Shaw but retreat far down my throat in her presence.
“You’re just sensitive about tripping over that rock and almost falling into the ravine in Dauphine,” Calloway fires back. My eyes widen. He must be far braver than I to provoke her.
When I dare raise my eyes, Max’s face isn’t angry at all. In fact, it’s considerably lighter as she throws a hand on her bare hip. “At least I didn’t almost get us all killed stealing acookie,” she shoots back.
Calloway winces. “That was one time—"
“If you two are done reminiscing about your inadequacies, we need to talk about a change of plans.”
I jump at Shaw’s voice. I was so caught up watching the exchange between Max and Calloway, teasing and yet kind at the same time, I almost forgot he was here. Almost. It isn’t possible to forget him entirely, not when his presence raises the hair on my arms.
