I didn’t wait to see if I hit him. I got to my feet and ran, but I didn’t make it very far before his arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me against his hard body. His hand clamped down on my mouth, silencing the shriek that bubbled from my throat.
“Is that any way to treat your rescuer?” he asked. His breath was warm, and his lips brushed the shell of my ear.
I shivered and closed my eyes, readying myself for the sting of his killing blow, but it didn’t come.
“I am a little disappointed you aren’t fighting,” he said.
I opened my eyes and then jerked away, snatching a limb from the ground. It was a poor weapon in the face of his blade, but it was something. I turned to face him. He looked at the stick and smirked before he met my gaze.
“You had better be careful, Lore,” said the fox. “She is a wild one.”
“I have no intention of killing you,” the fae said.
I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Then why did you chase me?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “I chased your attackers.”
“You put your hand over my mouth!”
“You were going to scream.”
“Because I thought you were going to kill me!”
“You should not assume,” he said.
“Youkilledthree other men!” I snapped.
“They were men and thieves,” he said. “Are you a man or a thief?”
“Do I look like a man?”
The fae’s eyes dipped to my breasts, and he smirked. I swiped at him with my stick. It sounded like a whip as it cut the air toward him, though he caught it easily with one gloved hand and yanked it from my hands.
I recoiled and covered my head with my hands, preparing for his blow.
But nothing came.
Slowly, I straightened, letting my arms fall to my sides. I kept my gaze lowered, unable to face the fae. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“What did I tell you, Lore?” said the fox. “This one will break your heart.”
I wasn’t sure what the fox meant by that, but for some reason, it made me feel worse.
“Look at me, wild one,” said the fae.
For some reason, that name only made my face burn hotter. The fae—Lore, according to the fox—took a step toward me, which finally drew my attention to his face. Again, I was struck by his beauty and the strange color of his eyes. I thought that perhaps he was an elf of some kind of status, given the point of his ears and his dress.
“I will never hurt you,” he said.
His choice of words were interesting. It implied something beyond this present moment.
“People with kinder eyes have hurt me before,” I said.
His gaze remained steady, but his mouth tensed.
“I cannot lie,” he answered.
I’d heard that before but never truly believed it, and I didn’t now. I considered saying as much, but just as I opened my mouth, I was interrupted by the sound of my name echoing in the Enchanted Forest.