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He hesitates, looking wary.

“You can just lift your shirt. Let me check for infection.”

He is quiet for so long I think I have lost him. “Just a quick look, okay?” He looks around nervously as he stands and then bounds over to me. He rips up his shirt, exposing the cut on his rib.

The skin is red and angry, but the cut is shallow. It could use a good clean and a bandage but nothing too serious—however, I need him to get these bonds off.

I let out a gasp and contort my face into a mask of concern.

“What, what is it? Is it bad?!” Cam looks at his cut and back at me, his eyes wide and worried. Right where I want him.

“Don’t panic, Cam, but it’s worse than I thought. It looks like it could be infected.”

“I knew I should have been cleaning it more. It’s only a few days old, but it’s starting to hurt more and more.” I let him ramble on, waiting patiently. “Could you heal this?” He stops abruptly and looks expectantly at me.

I nod up at him. “I could.”

“How long would it take to heal something like this?” He points to the still-exposed cut.

“I suppose I could do it in less than a minute, but I’d need at least one hand free.”Come on, Cam, untie me.

“I’m not sure.” He backs away and lowers his shirt. “Ledger wouldn’t want me to untie you.”I’m losing him.

“It is up to you, but the infection could spread to your heart if not treated. I’m sure you’ll be fine though,” I say as nonchalantly as I can. “You don’t have to untie both hands, I could do it with just one.”

He considers my words before relenting, “Okay.” He looks around again before continuing, “I can give you twenty seconds.” He begins removing one of my bonds.

As soon as my hand is free, he is retying the rope to the tree branch next to my head. I caught a glimpse of a dagger strapped to his side when he lifted his shirt. I know how to make this work, I have to be fast and calculated.

When he is sure the rope is secured, he turns to me and exposes the wound again. “Hurry, please.”

I nod, raising my hand to hover above the cut; I reach for any trickle of power but can’t seem to find even a whisper of it beneath my skin.

“Just a moment,” I assure him.

He shifts restlessly as his head swivels around. Once I’m sure he is fully distracted, I strike.

My hand grips the hilt of the dagger and in one fluid motion, I swipe it from the sheath and bring the end of it down on his temple just like Maddox taught me.

I’m so shocked it works when Cam hits the ground, he conveniently takes me down with him. He lands with a thud on the ground. I struggle to sit up. My arm strains as the rope digs into my wrist, still connected to the tree.

“I’m so sorry, Cam,” I murmur as if he can hear me, a pang of guilt eating at me.

I squeeze the handle of the dagger and slice the rope shakily, freeing my other hand. Then I’m running like hell.

I trip and stumble through trees and the uneven forest floor wanting to get as far away from their camp as I can. The adrenaline pumping through my veins is the only thing that keeps me moving.

My body has such little energy to pull on I have no choice but to grasp at my sheer will to live. The thought of stealing a horse crosses my mind, but I’ve never ridden one by myself and haven’t a clue if I’d even be able to get one to move without being caught.

I continue like this for what feels like forever, every noise or snap of a branch making my heart race. My breathing is ragged, and my shoulders heave from exertion. My body rebels with every move, forcing me to stop and rest against a tree. My legs all but give out the second I stop and my back scratches roughly against the bark, leaving scrapes in its wake.

I’m gasping for air as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to conjure anything that will help calm me down. I place my palms into the cold, damp earth, and my nails claw around it, hoping to ground myself.

A twig snaps, alerting me of another’s presence a second before a body hits forcefully into mine. A warm hand snaps roughly around my mouth, muffling the scream that tears from my lips.

I struggle, grappling with the form, my dirty nails scraping against the firm hand at my mouth and waist, my feet kicking blindly.

“Lay! Stop! It’s me; it’s just me.” I immediately stop struggling, and his hand leaves my mouth.

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