My words settle over her and she lifts her chin. Her fingers curl around the reins. It seems impossible that she is still unaware of what lives inside her: the brave, cunning thing that drove her to leave everything she’s ever known to save someone. The unwavering fight that refuses to be defeated.
Something light blooms in my chest and I think how like calls to like as I click my tongue and we are free of the camp.
* * *
Mirren
What have you done?
It’s all I can think as we ride as far away from the camp as we can manage, which isn’t far, considering Shaw’s condition. Though the makeshift tourniquet has stemmed the blood flow, his face is still pale and his normally rosy lips, an alarming shade of gray. He sways on the saddle, his eyes half lidded, but so far, he’s managed to keep himself upright.
I risked my life to save the man who abducted me, that’s what I’ve done. I left him with every intention of saving myself, but as I ran, something tore inside me. I couldn’t breathe around it. Could think of nothing but the unwavering determination on Shaw’s face when he told me to run. It was a look I knew well, the same one mirrored on my face whenever I think of Easton. A willingness to give everything up to protect someone else. I knew then I couldn’t leave him to die.
Wouldn’t.
Therein lies the difference I’ve steadfastly refused to examine too closely.
I push the thought away for the millionth time, looking ahead. The sun has begun to stain the sky pink behind the mountains. When we tore out of camp, we crossed a valley, wide open and lush. The threat of the militia loomed and though I feared tumbling from the horse, I pushed her faster at Shaw’s bidding. Shivhai wasn’t dead and it was only a matter of time until he was in decent enough condition to send men after us.
As the distant mountains finally come closer, Shaw’s instructions become more frequent. It’s hard to keep my bearings in the expansive land, but I know enough to gather we aren’t headed to the same cave system that hides Asa’s people. These mountains are jagged and looming, and far larger than the ones that bordered the west side of the Praeceptor’s camp.
My stomach clenches for the thousandth time as I realize how much hope I’d put into the proximity of other people staying Shaw’s nature until I could figure out a new plan. We came to a sort of truce in the camp, but I’m under no illusions it extends beyond it. Once the adrenaline of our endeavor wears off, Shaw will still be Shaw: single-mindedly determined to get what he wants. And I am back to where I began. Unarmed and subject to his whims.
My thighs are wedged tightly between his and with every stride of the mare, his body rocks further against mine, as if the control he holds over himself is weakening. I shouldn’t be surprised his chest is so hard, not when everything about him is sharp, but feeling it so closely lights a new awareness low in my stomach. I want to shy away from him in the same breath I wish to nestle closer. To feel the pattern of ridges I imagine etched across his abdomen.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
The thought churns inside of me. I wouldn’t need a way to escape him if I had just let him die. I should have run far away and left him at the mercy of Shivhai’s sword.
Even more unforgivable is my complete lack of remorse. I can’t bring myself to regret saving Shaw. Anger bubbles in my throat, but it’s anger at myself fornotfeeling sorry. I should feel sorry. I should feel terrified. I should feelsomethingother than relief that we are both free of the evils of that camp.
Shaw clicks his tongue. The mare responds immediately, slowing her pace and huffing an impatient breath through her nostrils. I wonder if Shaw was simply lucky in picking such a fast horse or if he’s practiced at such things. I watch in alarm as he stumbles off her with a groan. I’ve never seen him stumble. Not once.
He runs his fingers over the mare’s silky mane, whispering something low that sounds like no language I’ve ever heard. He walks ahead, clicking his tongue once more and the mare follows. His gait is labored, but he makes no complaint as he leads us slowly into the trees. I shift in the saddle, thankful for the small movement that relieves the aching pain of my behind. Never having ridden a horse, I had no idea the toll it takes on one’s body.
Shaw is silent as he walks further up the mountain. Sharp stones and boulders larger than Covinus vehicles litter the spaces between the trees, but Shaw wends his way deftly around them. Though there is no discernible trail, he moves with purpose, as if he knows exactly where he’s going. Before long, he disappears behind a curtain of vines that hangs over a steep cliff face. I shield my face as the mare follows him through without protest.
As I thread my way through the infernal plants, I look around to discover we are in a cavern. One large enough to comfortably house us as well as the horse. Shaw reaches out a hand to help me, gritting his teeth in pain, but I pointedly ignore him. Instead, I throw myself off the opposite side of the mare. The impact throws me off balance and I land in an ungraceful heap on the ground, but it’s better this way. I don’t need his help or anymore reminders of his humanity. We are safe and he’s Shaw once more, my abductor and my enemy.
He raises a brow at my refusal, but thankfully makes no comment about my spectacular fall. Instead, he leads the mare gently to the far side of the cavern where a clear stream trickles from the cave wall, winding its way gently through the rock. Shaw must have known of this place before. Somewhere perfectly suited to hide from a warlord’s pursuing army. As if he’s done it many times before.
He removes his remaining daggers from their sheaths and bends to the water, gently washing away the stains of the night. The mare drinks beside him and he whispers to her gently, his voice praising and kind. The mare deserves them, for carrying us so well to safely with an amateur at the reins, but anger rises in me all the same.
How is it that he speaks so gently to this creature, when hours before I watched him slice down soldier after soldier? And hours before that, he raised a gun at me without so much as flinching? I’m not so daft to believe we can hide happily in this cave and then he will let me go freely. He helped me free Asa and his people, but there is still a chasm within him, a divide between his goodness and his darkness. He was willing to kill me rather than let me go. He’ll do it again.
“We can recover here for the night. We’ll reassess in the morning.”
My mouth twists in disgust, all the words I long to shout at him suddenly battering against my mouth like waves against a dam. Shaw may have saved my life, but he is the reason I was in the Praeceptor’s camp in the first place. If he hadn’t abducted me, if he hadn’t refused to listen, I would never have been in Shivhai’s path.
The crack of the shot he aimed at me gapes like an open wound, as if the bullet actually pierced my body instead of just grazing my skin. I want to whip it at him, for him to feel the sting of betrayal as acutely as I do. “I don’t know why you’re even bothering to tell me. It isn’t as if I have any more of a choice here with you than I would have with the Praeceptor.”
If Shaw is confused by my sudden change in demeanor, he doesn’t show it. His eyes flicker and for a moment, I expect to see something like remorse. But there is only pure rage when Shaw’s gaze meets mine. “A ‘thank you’ for risking my life and the fury of the most dangerous men in Ferusa foryouwouldn’t be unwarranted,” he says through gritted teeth.
I scoff. “Thank you? You want me tothank you?For what, exactly, Shaw? For stalking me like the prey I am to you? For kidnapping me twice in a week’s time? You only saved me because being tortured and killed would ruin whatever nefarious plans are in that twisted head of yours. And you only assisted me in freeing those slaves because I wouldn’t come quietly otherwise and you didn’t want to risk the Praeceptor’s attention. You have done me no favors and I will not grovel on my knees in front of you as if you have.”
Shaw shoves his knives back into their sheaths without bothering to dry their blades and stalks toward me. His pupils are blown wide, and his movements are charged. Powerful. Injured, but no less dangerous. He is not just angry, I realize belatedly. Shaw isfurious.His eyes burn, not with the icy wrath that he focused on Shivhai, but with a blazing heat that sends warmth shooting to my cheeks and pooling somewhere deeper. Lower.
His voice is deathly quiet. “You think you would have been better off with them?”
