“Wren—”
“This never happened.” He stiffened against me before I ripped my arm free of his grasp. “Thisneverhappened!” I didn’t know if I was trying to convince him of that or myself. It had to be him as I couldn’t deny the wetness between my legs. “It was amistake.”
“Is that so?” he inquired in a tone of voice I’d never heard from him before. Something about it reminded me of a snake coiled tostrike.
Except I knew Corson would never strike me, never hurt me, at least not physically. I didn’t kid myself into believing he was humane, but he was fair, and he didn’t harm those who didn’tdeserveit.
Is that so?My mind spun with his question as I tried to figure it all out. But how could I figure this out when I was freezing, yet my palms were sweating, and my body still had little bolts of pleasure running through it from him? This demon made me melt, but there could never be anything more between us than a stolen moment in this awfulplace.
“Yes. It won’t happen again,” I said crisply. I was glad I couldn’t see him and that he couldn’t see me. I was afraid he would see the longing on my face as I uttered those words. “It’s time to get outofhere.”
Without waiting to hear what he would say, I turned on my heel and started down the tunnel. “You’re going the wrong way,” he said frombehindme.
I stopped and craned my head up and down the tunnel, but I had no way of knowing if he was right or not. Still, I reluctantly headed back toward hisvoice.
ChapterNineteen
Corson
Beside me, Wren threw her arm up to shield her eyes from the sun. She blinked rapidly against the influx of light. Turning, I gazed into the tunnel until my eyes adjusted to the day. Unlike the trap we’d fallen into, this tunnel entrance didn’t drop into the earth but had a gradual ascent until it became a twenty-foot hole that was even with theground.
When my eyes stopped burning, I faced forward again. I stared at the small trees before us while I tried to get my bearings, but I had no idea how far we’d traveled from the others or where wewerenow.
Wren pulled her knife from its holster and crept into the forest. I stayed close to her side, listening and searching for any hint of an enemy as she circled some of the trees in an ever-widening pattern. She hadn’t spoken to me since telling me that what happened between us was a mistake. She may believe that, but I still wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her, and I was determined to prove to her it hadn’t been amistake.
Her eyes searched the barren canopy of tree branches overhead before looking to the trunks. She ran her fingers over a couple of them, her brow furrowing as she studied the woods. In the short time we’d been in the Wilds with them, I’d come to realize that the Wilders had their own way of marking and learningtheland.
She walked over to a boulder and circled behind it. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the concentration etched onto her face or the grace with which her lithe body moved. It felt like it had been weeks since I’d last seen her, instead of however much time had passed below ground. This woman had no idea how prettyshewas.
“Do you recognize this area?” Iasked.
“Notsure.”
She glanced at me before hastily looking away again. Pink color tinged her cheeks as she strode over to a boulder that stood a good two feet over her head. She circled behind it, but when she didn’t reemerge, I stalked around to find her kneeling on the other side. Her left hand rested against the stone, she looked from it to the trees and back again. She adjusted her hold on her knife to trace something on the rock with herfingers.
Stepping closer, I stared at the jagged lines on the surface of the stone. The lines looked as if they’d been etched there by weather and time, but they fascinated Wren. Her fingers stilled on the second line, it was more jagged than the others and had a lightning bolt appearance to it. Wren glanced around the trees again before focusing on the boulderoncemore.
Her fingers traced the third line then moved five feet over to dip into a thumb-sized hole there. Her mouth pursed as if she’d tasted something bad. Then, her hand fell away andsherose.
“I know where we are,” she murmured, and her haunted eyes finally met mine. “We emerged about ten miles from where we left theothers.”
“How do you know that, from those lines?” I asked with a wave of my hand at thestone.
“The Wilders have a way of marking things. Before you ask, no, I’m not going to reveal ittoyou.”
“I see,” Ireplied.
My eyes fell to her mouth when her tongue licked her lips. She caught the direction of my gaze and stepped away from me. “I know where we are,” she said again, “but we have to be careful. The last time anyone was in this area, there was athreathere.”
I glanced at the wavy lines and small hole on the stone.What kind of strange secret language do theseWildershave?
If Wren had her way, she would take that knowledge to hergrave.
Unreasonable anger surged through me at the possibility of Wren’s demise. The tips of my talons prodded against my flesh. They sought to break free to destroy any threat to her, but I kept them restrained. The only risk to her now was her mortality, and I couldn’t fight that. Her death wasinevitable.
My teeth grated together as I inhaled a steadying breath before speaking again. “What kind of athreat?”
“Not the ouro or jinn. This threat was before either of those creatures came to Earth. Most likely it wasdemons.”
