We continue down the path until we reach the house where Wilcox and I met Aurelius last night. The house where I’ll be “preparing” Luna.
Every door is open except for one room I’m not yet ready to show her, and as we pass I watch her glimpse it. I walk her to the bedroom and apologize profusely as I handcuff her to a bed, frowning, cringing, anything to show remorse. The performance is over the top, but as sorrow sinks her face, the act becomes real.
I really am sorry for her predicament. I didn’t do it; I can’t control it; but I’m sorry.
Relief expands my lungs as I step outside, fresh air heavy with the scent of something cooking—or someone burning thyme. A meow pulls my attention to my feet, and I bend to rake my fingers along the back of a skinny, black cat, its back arching into my touch. For a moment, I’m able to push the girl from my mind.
She’s a distraction. An unfortunate casualty.
And as much as I feel for her… I have work to do.
Giving the cat one last scratch behind the ears, I stand and head for the forest.
CHAPTER 8
In the blue-tinted glow of the monitor, I watch Sawyer Hansley trek through the forest—pace steady, posture strong, a man built for hiking. The wooden shades make it dark as night in my bedroom, but it’s bright outside, the sun’s rays glinting off the perspiration on Hansley's forehead.
Interesting that he didn’t wait for dark.
Thorne paces behind me—less like a tiger, more like an elephant. Every heavy clomp of his boots flicks at my attention.
“You need to calm yourself, my love.”
The clomps cease for the briefest moment of peace before he jabs a thick finger at the monitor. “He’s going for the mines.”
“He’s going for themoney. The mines are merely in his way.”
“Exactly. He’s been here a day and has already proven we can’t trust him. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve learned all we need to know.”
Abandoning the monitor, I spin my chair to face Thorne, my lungs drawing in the sweet moonflower growing in the windowsill. I lift my lips in a comforting smile and stand. Reach my hand toward his. As our fingers intertwine, his agitation calms but it does nothing for the tension in my chest.
Thorne is a great soldier. He’s loyal, he’s strong, and he’s aggressive—his only kryptonite is a tender heart too easily squeezed.
He is not the kind of man who makes decisions.
“You let your emotions rule you.” My breasts brush his broad torso, chin tilting to look into eyes I once adored. He’s a giant, but when he’s like this, I feel taller than him. “Try to relax. All is as it’s supposed to be.”
“I don’t like his methods.” Agitation returns with a snap. I run two fingers down his jaw, massaging gently until it relaxes.
“I know. I don’t either. I don’t like any of this. But what exactly did you expect?”
“He’s makingusout to be monsters.”
“I know. All is as it’s supposed to be.”
Thorne’s head jerks from my touch. His hand unthreads from mine as he shuffles to the desk; leans on the wooden edge; glares at the screen.
As Mr. Hansley cuts to a different angle, the cameras following his back swap to his front. He stops with his gaze pointed at the ground. Stares directly at a bear trap hidden by brush.
He retrieves a stick from a nearby fallen branch and uses it to shift dead leaves sitting atop the trap. As the metal chomps the stick in two, he flinches—the movement so sharp I can feel the blast through the forest, birds flapping their wings to get away. Even without sound.
I’d say Mr. Hansley is lucky, but…
Luck was not involved.
Thorne smashes the heel of his palm against the desk’s grooved edge. “How did he know it was there?”
“He set up that escape scenario. Someone must’ve told him to watch out for the traps.”
