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“Keep going,” he urged.
“What the fuck,” someone yelled from behind us.
“Go, go,” Tristan yelled, shoving me toward the door. I hit the bar and crashed through it, spilling into fresh air.
Gunfire rang out behind us, and Tristan fired back, every crack of the gun making me startle.
It was a noise I would never get used to hearing.
Ever.
“Where?” I sucked in a sharp breath, certain my lungs had stopped working. That maybe even my heart had too. “I can’t—”
Tristan grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the tree line and didn’t stop until we were swamped by the overgrowth.
“We have to keep moving.”
He kept peering over his shoulder. As if he expected an enemy to jump out at us at any moment.
Voices filled the air, their shouts rippling through the trees like angry wind.
“We need to find somewhere to hide,” Tristan whispered, concern etched in the lines of his face.
It was apparent we were in the middle of nowhere, nothing but trees and wilderness in every direction.
I stumbled forward, trying to keep up with Tristan as he cut through branches and bushes like a knife. But he caught me, hoisting me against his side, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as we moved deeper into the woods.
It was still dawn, the sun barely peeking out from behind the tree line.
“What are we going to do?” I didn’t even try to disguise the tremor in my voice.
We’d escaped, yes. Only to be cast into another nightmare. If we didn’t find shelter or help, we would be hunted down like cattle.
“Keep moving,” Tristan rasped. “We have to keep moving.”
His grip on my hand tightened and the brush swallowed us whole. Even the shouts of our captors seemed to grow quieter.
I glanced over my shoulder, shuddering.
“Come on, Principessa.” His eyes met mine, his expression possessive and fierce, at odds with the sheer terror in his voice. “We need to go.”
* * *
We ranfor what felt like an eternity. Every time I slowed my pace, Tristan tugged my hand and motioned for me to speed up. My body ached, my muscles burning with exertion. My dress was torn, shredded as if I’d had a fight with a vicious clawed beast, and my skin was marred with cuts and scrapes. But adrenaline kept me moving. Fear kept me putting one foot in front of the other and pushing.
Suddenly, Tristan stopped, pulling me into his side, and raising a finger to his lips. I nodded, pressing my lips together. Then I saw what he had spotted. A derelict cabin, buried deep in the scrub.
“Stick close to me,” he said quietly. “Any sign of trouble and you run and don’t look back.”
We approached slowly, quietly treading through the overgrowth. Gun drawn, Tristan tucked me behind him as he pressed against the weathered paneling.
The windows were cracked, thick with mildew and moss. Tristan tapped the barrel of his gun against it and waited.
Nothing.
Nothing but the sound of my beating heart and the sounds of the forest.
“Come on, I think it’s safe.”
