I whirled around. “Show yourself!”
Swearing the branch ahead was an arm and the gnarled trunk a torso, I peered into the woods.
“I’m armed!” I added, even if it was untrue, even if my voice was quaking.
A deep chuckle came from the shadows, and it was like a bullseye shot right to my heart. I’d heard that laugh—many times—but not once in over a month. Not since he’d completed his blood oath and handed me over to the demon at the Boardwalk.
“Ryder?” I forced a harsh tone, and it still came out breathless.
No answer, but I could feel the heat of his gaze burning through the dark.
And if I lifted my phone, I was sure a pair of gold-green eyes would reflect the light. “Is that you?”
A silhouette shifted within the grove.
“Run.” The command wove through the trees, the wind, my bones. It was him, but his tone was gritty, strangled, like someone—or something—else was trapped inside him and he had to fight to get a word out.
Part of me ached, a much bigger part than I’d like to admit.
He was tortured, and I wanted to heal him. I wanted to see him, talk to him. Touch him. I stepped forward.
The forest fell silent.
“Silly girl.” A whisper, a snarl. Him, but not.
It stopped me in my tracks, that flare of wanting warring against the broken pieces of my heart. Ryder had once helped me find my power, but just as quickly he’d taken it away.
What would happen if I took another step towards him?
Dead leaves crinkled beneath the soles of my feet.
And another?
“Go,” he spat. “Now.”
My heart rammed against my rib cage. “Are you saving me?”
“Maybe.” The word was dipped in venom. “Or maybe I just like the chase.”
Low, solemn howls echoed off the tree trunks. The wolves. Shanley, Mau. I bounced on my heels, leaning in their direction. Debating.
Out of the corner of my eye, there was a blur of movement, muscles lunging, leather.
Slipping on the wet soil, I ran away from Crescent Rock, away from my friends, away from it all. Faster and faster, not looking back, not letting myself sink into the guilt of leaving them—even though they’d told me to.
When the woods thinned, I didn’t stop, not even when the golden fields surrounded me.
Finally, I turned my head, and I could have sworn there was a shadow in the distance behind me.
I cut through the eucalyptus, weaving in and out of a thicket.
Pins and needles danced along my tendons. Every inhale burned. But I’d keep going until I was sure Ryder wasn’t following, and even then I’d plow on, only stopping once my legs gave out—because that was better than an arrow through my heart.
I glanced at my phone. A single bar. That wouldn’t do shit out here.
Phone service would be better down by the road, which is where I thought I was heading. Not only would I be safer down there—it was paved.
My foot slipped into a gopher hole, and I staggered forward, slamming into an outcrop of pale rocks. Ugh. Chest heavy, I pressed off the stone. Hobbling down the rolling hillside, now more rock than grass, I crouched beneath the sharp juts of conifers, climbed over boulders with such chalky residue it turned my pants and my palms white.
