Page 48 of Purchased

“Very well,” I say. “I will give you two hours. Be safe.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. Don’t do anything silly.”

“I promise not to do anythingsilly,” she says in a tone that makes me wonder if this is a good idea.

I have to show that I trust her. I have to show her that she has enough space that she doesn’t have to run like crazy. The chateau is her home, not her prison. I am her mate, not her captor.

So I let her slide into the night.

I follow at a distance, downwind so she can’t scent me. I’m not leaving her to her own devices, obviously. I’m going to make sure she is safe.

She goes back to the village, moving at quite a clip in her wolf form. She seems to have something in mind. I consider whether or not I should stop her. I have a feeling that she is up to something I will not like.

But she hasn’t done anything wrong yet.

And I said I’d trust her.

So it doesn’t matter that every instinct I have is screaming at me to stop her.

She pads into town, sticking to the shadows. This is not good. As a general rule, it is not allowed for members of my pack to take their shifted form in front of humans. I don’t think she’s been told that, but I make a mental note to let her know.

She stops in the shadows outside the tavern. She waits as people leave, mostly too drunk to notice her. I see her wagging her tail and lowering her nose to her paws. She’s putting on an act, appearing to be a dog, curling up on herself and making herself look small. I look for a chance to come and chivvy her out of the place, but there are too many people around, and while one wolf playing small might pass unnoticed by the largely drunk people leaving the tavern this late, two almost certainly won’t. People keep coming at awkward intervals, giving me no clear shot to get in and herd her out.

And then the man she must have been waiting for emerges. Her ears perk up. She follows him. I follow her, trying to push away the sense of jealousy that rises in me. What does she want with this older heavyset villager? She follows him down a path and into the town square proper.

And that is where she does something so brutal, so violent, and so vicious that the sight will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I watch, horrified, as she savages a complete stranger by the fountain in the middle of the town square. A wolf can kill a man in seconds. She has done enough damage to destroy him and take him to literal pieces in under a minute. Then, with her victim publicly dismembered in the very heart of Fontlune, she flees.

There’s nothing I can do. He’s already very obviously dead, and running into town naked is not going to help. I have to follow her. She runs for the chateau like a wild thing. I give chase. This time I do not bother to hide the fact of my presence.

I run alongside her, terrified that the villagers will go for their guns and get in their cars and…

Sure enough, a matter of minutes after the death, headlights start to bounce across the plains as my fears are instantly realized. When a wild animal attacks inside a human encampment, humans respond as they have since time immemorial—they get a hunting party together and they chase the animal down with an eye to put it to death.

She starts to move in such a way as to put bushes and undergrowth between her and the lights. She’s been chased by hunters before, clearly. The stories this girl is not telling me must be absolutely legion.

Running from hunters is all about eye line. They need a clear shot, and over the next few miles we do our best not to give them one. Shouts of confusion indicate they’re not actually sure if they’ve spotted us or not. Some say we’re foxes, or deer, or dogs. That doesn’t stop a few hot heads taking shots anyway, bullets singing around us as we run for our lives.

This is the last time she goes anywhere alone. This might be the last time either one of us goes anywhere at all.

* * *

Beatrix

Armand is going to be so very mad. I don’t care. The moment I bit into that man’s neck I knew I’d done a good thing. The waitress and every other female he thinks about like he has a right to them just because he wants them will be safer now.

We are getting shot at, and that’s not great. Those cars are bouncing around like ships at sea as they rumble over the terrain at the highest speed they can manage, and we are zigging and zagging for our lives. The fact that there are two of us further splits the shots.

There’s just one problem. The chateau is miles away, we haven’t lost them yet, and I am starting to tire. There’s only so far that adrenaline can take you. If I can’t keep running, there’s nothing Armand can do to save me.

In life, you’re always on your own. Whether it’s surviving an orphanage or being chased by furious villagers who want to shoot you for savaging the village despoiler, other people can only help so much.

Armand sees that I’m slowing.

He slows too.

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