I can taste freedom.

Until Blake saunters across the room, his footsteps echoing around the space. He stops in front of the doorway, blocking our escape.

Callum stills, pushing me behind him.

“Going somewhere?” asks Blake.

His dark hair ripples in the breeze that comes from outside.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” warns Callum, his voice low, almost a growl.

“You won’t hurt me,” says Blake. “Because if we fight, we’ll make noise. And if we make noise, your brother will come looking. I don’t think he’ll be very happy that you’re stealing his bargaining chip for the Heart of the Moon, do you?”

Callum swallows. I’ve never seen him so tense. He looks as if he’s weighing his options, wondering whether he can fight his way out before his brother arrives with backup.

I don’t like our chances. I can hear the music and dancing from here.

I step out from behind him.

“Please, Blake,” I say softly.

Blake’s body is perfectly still for a moment. I cannot read him. I cannot understand what is going on in his mind right now.

Then he inclines his head and steps aside.

Callum releases a breath, then grabs my hand again.

“Run fast, little rabbit,” says Blake as we pass. “The Wolves are coming for you now.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as we step into the courtyard.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He smiles. “The game is far from over.”

A chill ripples through me, but Callum is pulling me across the cobbled stones. We rush to the stables, where Fiona is waiting beside the grey horse we rode here on. There are two bulky bags packed and strapped to the saddle.

“You took your sweet time,” she says, hands on her hips.

She hugs Callum and he pulls her close. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Aye, well, no need to get all emotional about it.” She turns to me. “Good luck, Rory. I’ll see you again soon, I hope.”

I return her smile, despite the worry clenching in my stomach. “I hope so, too.”

Callum helps me onto the horse before mounting behind me.

And then we’re riding out of the castle gates, and across the wild terrain.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask. My voice is almost drowned out by the sound of the hooves thudding against the mud, and the pounding of my heartbeat.

“James sent a messenger to Sebastian. Everything my brother said. . . it was a lie. He means to send you back in exchange for the Heart of the Moon. Sebastian is on his way.”

My stomach drops, and Callum’s arm tightens around my waist.

“He can’t have you.” His voice is hard. Angrier than I’ve ever heard it. “I’m taking you away from all this. I’m taking you to Highfell.” He pulls me closer to him, and his body heat washes over me. “I’m taking you home.”

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Chapter Fifty

We ride for hours.

The night is pitch-black and I cannot see beyond a few inches in front of my face.

At one point, I hear water lapping the pebbled shore of a loch. At another, wind stirs the branches of the trees and I can smell fern and damp earth. Dark shapes loom around us.

All the while, Callum is silent behind me.

His chest is hard against my back, and his thighs are tense as they brush against mine.

I wonder if he feels betrayed by his brother, or whether he feels as if he is betraying his people by taking me away.

Or perhaps it is neither. Perhaps he is angry I danced with Blake.

When Callum took me from the dancefloor, his kiss was hard and dominant. It was as if he was staking his claim. Heat stirs inside me at the memory of his mouth against mine, despite how unnecessary and inappropriate it was to do such a thing in front of so many people.

He must realize he has nothing to worry about as far as Blake is concerned. I do not trust that male in the slightest.

“Are you okay?” I ask. The wind is violent, and my voice is barely audible over the sound of the rustling trees.

“Those scars on your back,” he says softly, surprising me, “how did you get them?”

Memories flood my mind—the stained-glass windows of the Church of Light and Sun, months of sickness and grief, the High Priest and his crop.

I swallow. “It was a long time ago.”

A rough sound vibrates in Callum’s chest. “Was it your father?”

I turn myself to stone. A statue. Something that cannot feel pain.

“If you must know, I was sick, like my mother. The potions they gave me didn’t help. The High Priest said if he. . . cleansed me of my sin, the Goddess would spare me,” I say hurriedly. “And she did.”

His body stills behind me. I’m not sure he’s breathing. “The High Priest beat you?”

“It. . . it was only a few times—”

“Only?!” I flinch at the loudness of Callum’s voice.

“Yes. Only,” I snap. I don’t want his anger. It stirs something ugly inside me that I cannot face. “Now drop it.”

My breathing is fast, and so is his.

Until, finally, I exhale—letting the anger plume in front of my face with my breath. I touch his wrist where it rests in my lap.

“I do not wish to speak of it. Okay?”

A sound rumbles through his chest—a low growl he is clearly trying to suppress. “No one will ever touch you again.”

With the heat and strength of his body cocooning me, I almost believe him.

But Sebastian is riding North to get me, the Wolves are surely on our tail, and Blake’s warning rings in my ears: the game is far from over.

***

We ride throughout the night.

As the sun rises, the valley around us is bathed in orange light. With it, the whisky-induced fuzziness in my head is replaced by monotonous thumping. Every jolt of the horse rattles my brain. The sound of the birds chirping is shrill and irritating. And my mouth tastes horrible.

“How much further is it?” I say. “We’ve been riding for hours.”

He chuckles. “Sore head, Princess?”

“That is neither here nor there.”

“Highfell is a week’s ride away. We’re—”

“A week!”

“Aye.” Amusement laces Callum’s tone. “A week. The Northern Pass is the quickest route to my castle, but also the most well known. That’s the route James’ll use to send his Wolves after us—so we’re taking a slight detour. When they don’t find us in a few days, he’ll call them off, and they’ll go back to fighting the Southlands armies.”

I frown. “That doesn’t sound sensible.”

My mouth is dry and I swallow.

“No?” As if sensing my thirst, Callum reaches down into one of the saddlebags and passes me a flask. I snatch it from him, and greedily gulp it down. “And why is that?”

“James’s men will get to Highfell before us.” I take another sip of water, savoring the freshness that travels down my throat. “They’ll be waiting for us when we arrive and we’ll be captured.”

“If James truly wanted to capture us, then aye, that would be a good plan,” says Callum. “But he doesn’t care about the Heart of the Moon. Not enough. Getting hold of that thing was always a long shot. He won’t want to make an enemy out of me.”

He shifts behind me, running his thumb absently over my thigh.

“No. He won’t bother. He’ll pretend to have you, lure Sebastian out, and put his efforts into killing him. And good riddance to him, too. I only wish I could have been the one to do it.”

Doubt seeps through me as I pass the flask back. “Are you sure? You seem to be putting a lot of trust in a male who just betrayed you.”

Callum takes a sip, then puts the water back in the pack.

“Aye. I know my brother. If we can stay out of his reach for the next couple of days, we can put all of this behind us. I’m certain of it.” He squeezes my leg. “That means we don’t stop to rest until nightfall.”