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“Get back in the house, Sabine.”

Pushing away from the fence, she hobbles angrily to me. If not for the anger and annoyance, I’d laugh.

“Don’t ever put your hands on me like that again?—”

“Like how?”

Chest heaving, she stops inches from me. Her long black hair falls in messy waves over her shoulders, a green leaf tangled in the ends. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are flushed pink. Her blue eyes twinkle in the moonlight. I want to kiss her.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“What?”

“Say. You’re. Sorry.”

“Listen, sweetheart, you’re in my house?—”

“I will not go back inside your house until you say you’re sorry.”

Her defiance makes me want to tackle her and have sex with her right here on the damp forest floor.

“Say it, dammit!”

I spin around and begin pacing, my nails digging into my palms.

“Say—”

I spin back around. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry!”

I’m fucking sorry echoes through the mountains.

Sabine blinks, as shocked as I am by my submission.

Before she—or I—can speak again, I scoop her into my arms, thankful I don’t get a fight. My entire body is trembling as I begin to retrace our path back to the house.

“Which foot?” I growl, looking down at her moonlight-stricken face.

She licks her lips, staring up at me. God, she is so beautiful in the moonlight.

“My right,” she whispers. “I might have twisted my ankle.”

Her arms tighten around my neck. She lays her head on my shoulder, and we walk the rest of the way in silence, in quiet understanding of the weight of my surrender. Still in shock at it.

“Astor?” she whispers as we near the house.

“What?”

“I tried to escape . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me you’d do if I ever tried to escape?”

If you ever try to sneak out of here again, I will find you and I will kill you.

When I don’t respond, she says, “Well, I did ... and you didn’t kill me.”

“The night is still young.”

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