Last one.
No sooner did the thought go through her mind than James shifted, making a soft noise of protest. Ahnna froze, certain that he was about to rip the blanket off her and catch her in the act, but then his breathing steadied.
Just a dream.
Her head was pounding, her whole body trembling, but Ahnna set herself onto the last knot around her ankles as though her life depended on it. Which it did.
Finally, the binding came loose, and Ahnna carefully straightened her legs. Not waiting for the trembling in her muscles to ease, she managed to get seated, the blanket over her head falling to her lap.
Her eyes immediately moved to James.
He sat against the wall of the cabin, his head hanging down in deep sleep. The fire had grown low, but it was enough to illuminate his face, and she took in the changes in him. Shadows lay under his eyes; hollowed cheeks were partially hidden by enough growth of beard that she suspected he’d not picked up a razor since the night she’d escaped. His clothes were travel-stained, and he had a scabbed cut beneath one eye. Even in sleep, he seethed with tension, his jaw flexing and unflexing as dreams plagued him.
Alexandra had done this. Everything he was suffering was because of his bitch of a stepmother, and James didn’t even know it.
He betrayed you,her anger whispered.He took your heart and your body while knowing that his actions would destroy everything you fought for.
Yet as she looked at James, and at the toll the past weeks had taken written over every inch of his body, what she mostly felt was the hollowness of sorrow. She was deeply familiar with the emotion, just as she was familiar with pushing past it, using pragmatism as her fuel. They’d both been wronged, both been used as pawns, but she couldn’t risk trying to reason with him.
He’d proven he wasn’t willing to hear it.
The ropes binding her wrists dug deep into her skin as she looked around the small space for something she could use to cut them. Her own weapons were sheathed and shoved far under the cot. Reaching them with her hands was impossible, and trying to get them out with her feet, never mind unsheathing them, risked noise that would wake James.
Which left only one option.
Turning to the fireplace, she used the toe of her boot to carefully nudge an ember out onto the stones forming the front of the hearth. Turning her back to it, she checked that James was still asleep and then leaned back, easing her wrists toward the ember.
The heat grew, and Ahnna grimaced as the side of her wrist grazed the ember, burning her skin. Shifting, she got the angle right and pressed the ropes against it.
This was going to hurt.
The rope began to burn, and Ahnna cringed as flames licked her flesh. Straightening, she held her wrists out as far as she could from her back to keep her clothes from catching fire even as she strained against them.
Break,she pleaded, the pain excruciating.Goddamned break!
The burning ropes snapped.
Ahnna jerked her arms in front of her, and then cast the rest of the burning rope into the fire before smothering the cuffs of her shirt, which were aflame. The smoke had an acrid smell, and James shifted slightly.
She needed to hurry.
Easing to her feet, Ahnna slipped on her greatcoat because she’d never survive the cold without it. Her burned wrists stung as the rough wool rubbed over them, blisters already rising. But that was a problem for later.
Eyes on James, Ahnna reached under the cot, her fingers closing over her sword. Once she had her weapons, she’d go for Dippy and pray to every higher power that she could get her horse out of the stall without waking James.
As if Dippy heard her thinking about him, he chose that moment to let out a loud whinny.
James jerked, his eyes snapping open to fix on her. For a heartbeat, they stared each other down.
Ahnna moved first.
Jerking her sword out of its sheath, she managed to twist in time to meet James’s strike. The strength of his blow made her arm shudder, and she rolled, scrambling to her feet as she parried.
Whatever reluctance he’d had to kill her before was gone, his face a cold mask of fury as he came at her. Ahnna met him blow for blow, but there was no room to move in the tiny space.
She sidestepped as he lunged, his blade slicing through the air where her chest had been a second before. She spun away, shoving the wooden chair in his path. But James barely slowed, his gaze fixed on her with a deadly focus, his movements calculated, relentless. Ahnna’s grip on her sword was slick with sweat, her breath shallow and fast.
“James, stop! Just listen to me!”
