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We get on one of the highways and head south.

“You know, um, I don’t think I said thank you.” I clear my throat and rub my arms. “I didn’t think they would do that to me without…”

“Without your permission?” He laughs. “Witches never ask permission. They just cast their magic without any thought of repercussions.”

He’s talking about the curse. The curse he won’t tell me anything about.

“There’s a clean sweatshirt in the back,” he adds.

I frown and twist back to grab it, considering his little speech about witches. And permission. Like he asked permission to hunt me down and take me with him.

Hurt cycles through me. I’m struck speechless. I’ve tried to help him. I only ran off once… okay, twice, if you count when his cousin attacked me. But other than that, I’ve gone along with his schemes. No matter the amount of force he applied, I didn’t actively object.

And he still thinks I’m part of the problem. That I am the problem, wholly. I’m a witch. When he says they, he’s including me in that. Even if he’s talking about a curse cast from a blood witch who knows how long ago, or now.

This isn’t going to work for me.

I shrug on the sweatshirt and fix my hair, then glance over. I’m trying hard not to think about the way his scent is wrapped around me again. And the way I like it a bit too much.

“If you want my help, I need you to stop hunting down covens.”

Kian eyes me. He suddenly slams on the brakes. The truck squeals as we grind to a halt, and I fly forward. The only thing that stops me from crashing into the dash is the seat belt across my chest and hips.

He leans over and grips my jaw, dragging me across the middle seat by my face. “Let’s get one thing straight, little nightmare. You don’t get to dictate anything. You do as I say, and you’ll live through this.”

I glare at him.

“Besides.” He leans in closer, running his nose up the side of my face. “I know what you really need. I can smell your desire from here.”

I shove at him. It does no good, but his smile widens. I feel it against my temple.

“I don’t want that,” I say. “I wasn’t even thinking that.”

“What you want and what you need are two different things, baby.” His mouth trails lower, past my ear and dipping to my neck.

God, my skin is hot.

“What you want is to pretend your life can go back to normal. But what you need is to get out of the fucking truck and run.”

I jerk back. His eyes are dark, his pupils dilating. He’s serious—but in a different way than I was expecting. In a way that says he’s going to catch me and do wicked things, not monstrous things.

Or maybe both.

Is it a distraction, or is it exactly what we need, as he so kindly put it?

Am I crazy for wanting to find out?

I unbuckle my seat belt and shove the door open.

At the very least, it gives me space between us. Room to breathe, to take out my growing anger on someone besides Kian. I fly out and leap across the water drainage ditch, sprinting into the field. A good distance away is a tree line, a mountain climbing up out of the flat earth. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it that far, but I push myself anyway.

Running is the bane of my existence, but the burn in my lungs reminds me that I’m still alive. So fuck it.

Kian wastes no time closing the distance between us. “Better hurry, witch.”

His voice floats ahead of him, spurring me faster.

In a strange way, I feel better than I’ve felt in days. Maybe it’s that my back is finally healed or my magic is coming back. Either way, I focus my energy into my speed. My mother and I used to go for runs, but I definitely slacked off when I moved away from her. It’s as comfortable as sludging through mud.