“Yeah, one punch won’t hurt.”
“Barclay.” I gape at him. “What are you doing?”
“If you say so.” Victor, a corporate lawyer, for crying out loud, raises his fist, his green eyes glimmering.
I back off, but a wall of a man stops me.
“Hold still.” Jayden’s meaty hands are on my shoulders, his voice gentle. Then—“Motherfucker, he bit me.”
Our dog.
My eyes go wide, urgency and panic thrumming through me.
Victor’s going to knock me out, not kill me. Barclay needs me, probably as leverage against Duncan.
But Varn, they don’t need him. They won’t hesitate to murder our pup.
No!
Victor’s blow is about to land.
It’s then that I scream at the top of my lungs, “Varn! Run! Run!”
A second later, pain slashes through me, and I’m out.
28
ELOWYN
There’s light in Duncan’s dark eyes today. In the laugh he lets out as soon as Varn shoves himself between us.
So much light.
Which is…weird.
Because the light doesn’t just come from Duncan directly. The sun is shining all around us. Brightly.
Usually, when we have picnics outside, the sky is gray. In New York, fall doesn’t feel like this. Like summer.
My gut churns. What’s happening?
“Duncan?”
He says nothing, stroking Varn, who lets out a low, pleased rumble for his daddy.
I try to raise my hand. I need to…I don’t know. Grab his shoulder and shake him. Wake him up.
My hand won’t budge. My other hand won’t either.
My wrists are bound behind my back.
It makes no sense. I’m lying on my side, comfortable, while my wrists are bound?
“Duncan, what did you do to me?”
Nothing.
“I don’t like this game.” I wriggle, twisting my arms. No matter what I do, I can’t break free. “Stop it. Let me go.”
