Page 11 of Ember and Eclipse
Her mind was slow to react, hazy even. And the sudden understanding of having been drugged filtered into her foggy consciousness. When the thing in the doorway moved toward her, she screamed, though she had to drag it from the depths of her lungs.
A hand was over her mouth, and a knife to her throat before she could fully escape from under the covers.
In her base need to get away, she slapped the intruder, her arm feeling like it moved in slow motion. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, took in exactly who had the blade to her throat and their hand over her mouth.
It was a beast, just not the creature she thought she’d seen. It was the Wolf of Romul. The hunter that should have been very much locked up and still recovering from being poisoned.
His lip lifted in a silent snarl.
“Quietly,” he whispered.
When she showed no sign of responding to him, the steel pressed harder into her skin, drawing blood. “Mmhmm,” she hummed hurriedly.
He removed his hand from over her mouth and pulled her roughly out of the bed, grabbing her pack as he did. His grip on her arm was iron as he pushed her forward.
When they crossed the threshold, she inhaled and forced out another scream.
Drugged or not, she would not go quietly. She would not yield.
But a sharp pain to the back of her head and swarming darkness overtook her. She had a brief glimpse of the hallway. It had been decorated before she fell asleep—full of garish baubles, abstract art, and more moving pictures.
Except now, it was empty.
Then she knew no more.
Chapter VIII
Relawokelikeonedoes from a nightmare—slowly, then all at once. Flinching, her eyes still shut, she found her neck was so sore that she imagined it had to be broken. Finally risking it, she cracked her eyes open. It took long moments for her vision to adjust before she saw the horse’s head swaying before her and the open road.
Groaning, she leaned back, her spine and neck protesting the slight movement. She didn’t have far to move, though, because she was pressed against a hard body.
“You’re awake. Finally. I was starting to get concerned I had done irreparable damage.”
His gravelly and deep voice immediately forced her mind to untangle what had occurred. She had been at Fortuna Bakery, asleep, when the hunter found her. Buthowdid he find her?
Imren’s voice came back to her, haunting and foreboding. “You can’t outrun this.” She’d been betrayed, drugged with something that had forced her into slumber and made her weak. Had the witch known he was coming for her?
Never trust a Mark witch was a warning she should have heeded.
Her mouth was dry, and she tried to turn her head to look at her captor, but all she managed was shooting pain that sent inky splotches into her vision.
Finally, Rel asked, “How?”
“What?” the hunter responded, sounding annoyed with her already.
“How did you get out? How did you get there that fast? How did youfindme?”
His chest pressed against her back as he inhaled deeply. She pushed away from him only to slump sideways, almost falling off the horse.
An embarrassing sound emitted from her throat, but she was caught and pulled upright again.
“Stay put. If I have to stop because you fell off, I’m tying you up, and you can travel the rest of the way slung over Friend’s back.”
The horse’s name was Friend, which was an interesting name for a war horse, but she couldn’t find the irony amusing. Instead, her mind went back to the impossibility of it all.
“You’re a mage,” she croaked.
A dark chuckle shook her. “I am most certainlynotamage.”
