Page 26 of Curse the Flame

I was too distracted to notice at first, but, with the sword held out threateningly in front of him, he starts to prowl toward me.

I hold up my hands again, hoping like hell he takes the hint. “Uh-uh. You stay there.”

Nope. He keeps on coming. While I start to scramble back up the hill behind me, hoping to disappear into the woods and get away, he takes one moment to shove his sword back. Once both hands are free, he holds his palms out, speaking in a calm, patient tone like I’m an animal he’s trying not to startle.

Too late. I’m already super duper startled. Terrified is beginning to creep in, too, as I match each of his steps.

Only one thing keeps me from bolting.

“Sir!”

The soldier hesitates at my unexpected shout.

Good. I’m not leaving here with the puppy, but where is he?

That’s when I make a big mistake. A huge mistake. I take my eyes off of the soldier for a second, searching the camp real quick for some sign of Sir, but once I do, he quickly closes the last of the gap between us. Before I know it, he’s right there, and I’m too late to flee.

Less than two feet away, the soldier says something, then reaches for me.

Even more startled, I slap his hand. “No.”

Surprise flashes across his face, followed quickly on its heels by anger. Lunging at me, he grabs my wrist.

I twist, trying to yank free, but he’s stronger than I expected; another mistake because why would a Roman soldier in this strange place not be strong? His fingers tighten until the bones in my wrist grind together, and when I panic and swing my other hand at him, he catches that one, too.

“Let go!”

He pulls me against him.

I scream bloody murder.

It doesn’t matter that there might be monsters in the woods that I could be attracting right now. Shoot. I think I already found one, and I need any help I can get. I scream as loudly as I can, kicking at his shins and trying to wrench my hands free.

“Sir! Sir!”

The soldier curses. I recognize the tone, if not the words, and with another flash of fury, he turns me around, forcing one arm behind my back, then the next.

Pain shoots through my shoulders. “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

He says something against my ear. My stomach roils as I catch that word again.

Uxor.

Wife.

Oh, God. This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not—only it is. I’m being abducted by some guy who speaks Latin and wears a breastplate. The puppy that led me here is nowhere to be found. As he drags me, I lose both of my slippers, and a small, slender tree pops into existence where I attempt to dig my heels in.

Yeah. Thanks, Persephone. Big help there.

And, yes, I’m being sarcastic. Especially since Sir isn’t the only one missing. Persephone is conveniently quiet all because I hushed her, and now I’m alone as the soldier manhandles me all the way to his camp.

You know what the sad thing is? He’s said “wife” twice now, and all I can think is: Daphne is never going to let me live this down.

Assuming I live through whatever this Roman creep has in mind, that is.

That thought hits almost as hard as the way he yanks on my poor arms.

Until now, this has felt like an adventure. A dangerous one, maybe, but still something magical. I fell through a mirror. I found a world full of impossible forests, strange creatures, and flowers that bloom wherever I walk. Cassandra knew my name, telling me I was a reborn goddess; a voice inside of me agreed. I had an animal sidekick leading the way before he vanished.