The trees closed around us as we left the road behind, the forest swallowing the last sounds of the cars until there was only the soft press of his boots against the earth and my own uneven breathing.
I became painfully aware of how close I was to him then, of the way his arms held me without strain like this was nothing new to him. Heat rose to my face before I could stop it, and I hated that my body reacted this way when my mind was still tangled in fear and anger. He was strong, painfully so, solid in a way that made me feel small and protected at the same time, and his warmth seeped into me through the thin fabric of my dress.
His scent surrounded me and it settled something inside my chest that had been shaking for hours. Where his hand rested at my waist my skin tingled, and every time he adjusted his hold, his arm brushed closer, his grip shifting just enough that I felt it near my ass, and my heart would stutter like it had forgotten its rhythm.
I tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the steady sway of his steps and the quiet of the forest, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the fact that he had stopped the car for me, that he had picked me up without asking and carried me like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was better than the car, I had to admit that even if it confused me, because every jolt before had sent pain through my body, while now the ache dulled, wrapped in his warmth. I wondered if he had known I was hurting, if he had seen it on my face or maybe the driver told him , and the thought made my throat tighten in a way I did not understand. No one ever noticed things like that about me, or if they did, they never cared.
The walk stayed quiet, and in that silence I felt safe in a way that scared me more than the danger ever could. My head rested against his chest without me meaning to, and I listened to his heartbeat, slow and steady, grounding me when everything else felt like it was slipping. For a moment I forgot where I was going, forgot Duskwood and the it's stories and forgot Laura and my father and the way my life had been signed away. There was just the forest, the night air, and the man carrying me like I mattered.
"We're close to the border," he said suddenly, his voice low, and the calm shattered. I felt his body tense beneath me as if he had sensed something before I had. The forest seemed to lean in and then the sound came, a low growl that crawled over my skin and raised the hair at the back of my neck. He cursed under his breath.
"Is there a problem," I asked, my voice small despite my effort to steady it.
"Rogues," he answered, his tone hard now, sharp at the edges. "Crazed rogues."
I did not have time to ask what he meant by crazed rougues because they answered for him. Something stepped out from the shadows, and my breath caught painfully in my chest. It was huge, almost as tall as him, but wrong in every way that mattered. Its body looked twisted, stretched where it should not be, skin pulled tight over jagged muscle, and its smell hit me a second later, thick and rotten like death left too long in the sun. Its eyes were yellow and too many of them, clustered in a way that made my stomach turn, and its mouth was worse, teeth and fangs jutting out at odd angles as if they had grown without order or care. Horns curved from its head, sharp and spikes ran along its back like it had been built for nothing but pain. Before I could even process it, three more emerged, each one just as wrong as the first, surrounding us slowly, their attention locking onto me in a way that made my blood run cold.
Draven moved then, stepping back and lowering me toward a rock. "Stay put, I'll take care of them," he said, already pulling away,
preparing to leave me there.
Panic flooded me and I clutched at his shirt with shaking hands, my eyes wide as I shook my head. "No," I whispered, the word tearing out of me. "Don't leave me."
He looked at me then, really looked, and something in his expression softened just enough to break me. "Trust me," he said, and I hated how badly I wanted to believe him. My fingers loosened against my will, and he set me down gently before turning away.
The creatures' eyes snapped back to me the moment he moved, their hunger clear and fear rooted me in place. Draven did not give them the chance to act. His shift was fast, violent in its power, bone and muscle changing in a blur that stole my breath. Where the man had stood was now a massive wolf, black and silver, what a majestic beast he was.
He launched himself at them without hesitation, the fight exploding into snarls and snapping jaws and the sound of bodies colliding. I could barely follow it, everything blurring together as fear and shock tangled in my mind. One of them broke away, circling wide, and before I could even scream it lunged for me, its breath hot and foul against my skin.
Draven was there in an instant, faster than thought, his jaws closing around its throat with a sickening finality. The body fell at my feet, lifeless, and I think that was when my strength finally gave out. The rest ended quickly after that, though I barely remember how, just flashes of movement and sound and then silence again, heavy and ringing in my ears.
I felt hands on my shoulders, shaking me gently, his voice calling my name, but it sounded far away, like it was coming from deep underwater. My vision dimmed, and the last thing I saw was his eyes filled with something that looked like fear before everything went dark.