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But I wasn’t stopping.
Axe’s weapon dug into one of his attackers as I reached the ground. Blood poured everywhere.
The sight reminded me of the torture I’d received, and I glanced away, focusing on the shifters. As I hit the clearing, someone blocked my path to the dwarves. Blade raised, the pirate who’d been hit on the back cornered me against the rock.
My insides iced over.
He slammed me against the stone, jabbing the tip of his cold metal into my neck. “I’ll fuck you before I peel your skin off and feed it to the mutts.”
A sickening, slimy feeling carried through me.
He grabbed me in a headlock, pushing me in front of him, using me as a shield to stop the dwarves’ attack.
Then I remembered the rock in my bosom and the dagger in my boot. I could reach one of them. Slowly, I freed it from its place in my bosom.
“Touching yourself for me, aye, love?” His disgusting rum breath caked me.
I slammed the rock on his forehead with a loud crack.
“You fucking bitch,” he said, slashing my arm and pushing me to the ground. “I’ll kill you for that.”
Scorching pain spread up my arm as I scrambled away.
The pirate stumbled, falling to his knees, clutching his bleeding forehead.
Anger reared inside me like a provoked snake. My torturer had spoken to me like that. Like I was a piece of dirt born for his sickening pleasure. Limbs blazing with hatred, I raised the stone again and charged at the pirate, clipping him on the back of his head. Blood splattered my face and clothing. Inside, the old Snow screamed for me to stop. But over and over I pounded him until I ended his life. Crying and shaking uncontrollably, I fell to the ground beside him. Crimson splotches dotted my dress and brought back all the horrors of my imprisonment. I screamed and sobbed, unable to stop. There I sat, my eyes jammed closed, fighting my tightening throat as the dwarves finished off the last of the pirates.
People cheered and stomped their feet excitedly on the wagons’ floors, prompting nervous whinnies from the horses. Bones creaked as the shifters changed back into their human forms. Dozens of voices murmured their thanks, their relief at being saved music to my ears.
But this was no time for me to celebrate. I’d killed a man. I was no better than the evil witch who’d destroyed my father. Inside that cell, a monster had been born, leaving a part of me dead inside. The realization shook me to the core. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t continue.
“Snow.” Teeny’s voice sounded distant. His hand pressed against the top of my back.
“Leave me,” I told him, shuffling out of the way. “Help the shifters.”
They could be saved, but me? I was too far gone. There was no hope for me. All of the light inside of me had been extinguished the day my father had died. I sat there, arms wrapped around my shins, my face buried against my knees, rocking on the hard stone. Everything else faded into the background as my mind teetered on the edge of a dark abyss. Lightning flashed in its depths, revealing only death and decay. A place I wished to dive into and never return from. After what I’d done, it was everything I deserved and more.
Next thing I knew, someone was by my side, consoling me, whispering in my ear. His voice, honeyed and warm, was the sweetest sound, drawing me back from oblivion. Electricity coursed through my veins from the touch of his arm around my back. The sensation reminded me of how I’d felt when Shadow had touched me. Except this wasn’t Shadow. This was like the embrace of an angel. Soothing. Comforting. Calling to me to take a step back from the precipice I stood on.
When I shook from my stupor, I looked up into the most startling eyes I’d ever encountered on a man. Brown like the rich soil of the apple orchards, but with a golden ring around the irises; the sight nearly knocked me backward.
“Ma’am,” he said, “you’re bleeding.”
Manners. Not many men possessed those these days.
Judging by the two paw tattoos on his upper arm, he was a panther, too, like Shadow. Of all the shifters, they were known for their sleekness, grace, stealth, and beauty. This handsome stranger sure lived up to the last characteristic. Stubble created shadows along the sides of his square jaw. Curly auburn hair framed his bronzed skin. He wasn’t what you would call big for a man, but muscles hugged his agile form. A gentle power radiated from his expression, tricking me into believing he’d been birthed by the panther goddess herself. Something about him told me he was strong and fearless, but he had a tender edge.
My fingers tingled to trace the set of scars along his bare chest, which resembled an animal’s scratch.Sea God,what was wrong with me? One minute I was tormenting myself for murdering a man—in the next, I was lusting over an attractive shifter. I was acting like an animal in heat.
Whoever the shifter was, he didn’t hesitate to tear off the ends of his pants to fashion a bandage for the cut on my arm.
“Don’t,” I told him, sucking in a breath when he lifted the cloth to wrap it around me.
My protest at his touch didn’t stop him, and he seized my arm, fixing the bandage to it, pulling it taut. Fire exploded through me as the back of his fingers brushed my skin, the heat stretching through every inch of me. I couldn’t think past it or the flash of green in his eyes when he touched me, as if he recognized a mutual attraction, too.Damn it.The same thing had happened with Shadow and me. What was wrong with me? I didn’t get hot and bothered by every handsome stranger.
“That’s a deep cut,” the panther said with a smile that stole more of my breath away. “You don’t want it getting infected.”
Shit.I had to get a hold of myself. Getting close to anyone was off-limits. What man would want me when I was broken inside?
