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“Come now, little bird. I know this is a lot to take in, but you’ve been confident and full of that ‘southern sass’. Don’t disappoint me now.”
Don’t stop fighting. She had to fight, but how and with what? Clinging to her backpack straps she let her gaze sweep the ground quickly before meeting Jared’s grayish-blue gaze. He looked bemused. He had all the time in the world to taunt, defile, and murder her. Nobody around to help, and nobody to hear her scream.
“I rightly believe that I will be choosing death,” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice and sound sassy.
Jared smiled, and stepped closer.
Aliya whipped her backpack off and swung it at his head. It connected and knocked him to the side. He cursed, grabbed the backpack with his free hand, and yanked on it. Aliya held tight to the straps for a beat, and then she shoved the backpack at him, releasing her grip on it at the same time.
He sprawled backwards, landing on his rump. The look in his eyes was surprise and fury. Aliya scooped up a large rock and chucked it at his head. It connected with his forehead and Jared actually looked dazed.
Spinning, Aliya raced up the trail. Away from Jared and away from Ammon and Gracie. She hated leaving Gracie behind, but she’d been lucky to escape from Jared. No way could she take on Jared and Ammon. She prayed desperately that Gracie wasn’t dead, that she could get help for her and her friend, and that she could get away from Jared.
Footsteps pounded from behind her. Her heart pounded louder and faster than the footsteps. Jared was coming.No, please no! Somebody help me!
She couldn’t catch her breath and her legs were taking a beating as she increased her pace. All she knew was she had to not let Jared catch her. Feeling lightheaded from the terror and the sprint uphill, she could not slow down.
“You can’t get away from me, little bird,” Jared’s voice floated up the trail to her.
Was he closer? He was gaining on her. No!
Nobody around to help. Gracie probably already dead. Jared closing the distance and Ammon wouldn’t be far behind. She looked over her shoulder to gauge how far away he was. She couldn’t see him through the thick trees.
She prayed and increased her pace and miraculously her legs gained strength. Sprinting up the mountain path, she could hear Jared’s footsteps coming closer and closer. Her head pounded in pace with his footsteps. Her legs ached but she would not slow down.
She finally, finally reached the apex and started down the other side of the crazy steep mountainside. Far below she could see a beautiful valley with a few open meadows and a lake. Suddenly, the trail was bisected by a fast-moving stream. It wasn’t wide enough to be a river but it looked deep and the water churned with an obviously strong current. It was mid-June but they’d seen snow and this stream was choked with spring runoff.
She didn’t want to get swept downstream, but she had little choice but to go through. If she tried to find a better crossing or waited, Jared would reach her. She couldn’t go back. She didn’t even have her backpack with her pepper spray and phone now. Not that her phone had any service.
Taking a deep breath and praying for help and strength, she plunged into the water. A few steps in and the bank slipped away and she dropped into the water, wet clear to her chest. Even though it was June, the water was icy cold. She took gasping breaths as the pulsating, throbbing liquid stung her arms and legs with its cold and its strength.
The current was so vicious, it threatened to sweep her feet out from under her. Aliya slipped on the mossy rocks, cried out, and tried to find footing and press through. Her feet touched solid ground and she used her arms simulating a breast stroke to try to propel herself toward the other shore.
Aliya stepped on a slick, mossy rock and pushed off. Her next step she found no footing at all. Her head went under water and the current shoved her downstream. The stream narrowed and picked up speed, spitting her head out so she caught a breath but holding her body in its grip.
She rode downstream like the worst river ride of her life, no sign of the rapids stopping and barely able to keep her head above water as she tried valiantly to swim to the side but the current was too strong and she was powerless to escape its grip.
The stream plunged down the mountain, trees and undergrowth rushing by her on the side of the banks. She was helpless and could only keep her head up and try to keep her feet pointed downstream. The flow was a torrent taking her faster and faster as the descent became steeper and steeper and the water churned more powerfully.
Was she going to drown in this chilly water or would it eventually slow down and release her from its grip? She fought to keep her mouth and nose out of the frothing water and keep bringing precious oxygen. She prayed constantly and focused on the one positive—unless Jared jumped in after her it would take him hours to make the progress down the mountainside trails that she’d made in the past fifteen minutes of her vicious river ride.
The water got more turbulent and she could hear a roaring. Was that just in her head? It couldn’t possibly be … Aliya didn’t even have time to scream or react as the water spewed her over a ledge and Aliya was tumbling and free falling head first. Shouldn’t she somehow spin her body and land feet first?
Too late.
Crying out in horror, she slammed into the icy water. It stung her head, but as she plunged quickly down, she realized she’d survived. If she could right herself maybe she could … Her head struck something, and everything went black.
Chapter Two
Prince Curtis Augustine spent most of his days hiking or dirt-biking the mountains framing the east side of the kingdom of August, a natural border between their country and Austria. He patrolled the trails for any hikers—befriending, screening, sending information on to his brother Ray the general of the military or Ray’s close friend Jensen the head of the police.
Curt also searched for the elusive, fabled ‘cure’ to the curse that had plagued the women who married into his family. Some believed the ‘suicide curse’ was the cause of his mum’s death.
Curt and his brothers knew their beloved mum had been murdered, but not even brilliant Raymond, the general of their army, could find any clues that led to the culprit. For some reason, Curt felt driven to find the cure. The tales handed down with family folklore claimed the cure was in his mountains. Nobody knew where it might be, what it looked like, or what it even did. With his brother Raymond now engaged to the sweet Macey, there was even more reason to find the cure.
It was probably a waste of time searching, but what else did he have to do besides screen hikers for possible ill intent and host any travelers who knocked on his door?
Since he’d killed Suzanne eight months ago he’d rarely left his mountain. Losing his mum six months ago to a senseless murder had given him even less desire to return to the castle or ‘real life’. He missed his family. Tristan and Raymond, his older twin brothers, came to visit fairly often with food and supplies, sometimes bringing his dad, their wild and adorable little sister Kiera, or Malik and Steffan. He hadn’t seen Derek since Mum’s funeral.
