Page 22 of The Rising Wave

Perhaps Juni hadn't been able to help himself. He'd struck Luc as a man who had to be at the center of things, so he may have made an excuse to check on the prisoners so that he could sound the alarm.

Whatever the reason, the dogs baying in the distance gave Luc fair warning.

At his back, Ava stirred, straightening up and lifting away from him, making him suddenly aware of how close she had been pressed against him before.

“Hounds?” she asked, her voice fuzzy with sleep.

“Hounds and men.” They would be hunted like deer.

She gave a groan, so exasperated, he couldn't keep his lips from twitching.

Then she swore. “My head rag is gone. It must have fallen out of my pocket. Can I have one of your bindings?” She rested her chin on his shoulder. “Just a small scrap would be fine.” Her hands were loosely clasped about his waist, and she lifted them to smooth down one of his arms.

Her touch was gentle, trying not to hurt him, and it sent a wave of goosebumps over his skin. He had to suppress a shiver of reaction, holding still as she unwound one of the blood-stained bandages.

“You think dropping it will slow the hounds?” It wasn't a bad idea.

“Yes, but I need to do something to it first.” Her hands left him altogether, and she seemed to lean back, working on something.

“Should I stop the horse?”

“No. We don't have time. I'm nearly done.” The last word was said as if she spoke with something held between her lips, and then she tossed the bandage down on the ground.

“It might delay the dogs for a few minutes while they stop to sniff it. But not long enough.” After all, it would just confirm to the hunters they were on the right track.

“A short while is better than nothing.”

He couldn't argue with that, and he urged the horse faster, aware it was beginning to lag, and, he was afraid, to limp.

Less than half an hour later, it began to walk, and then stopped altogether.

He wanted to rage, but instead he sighed and slid off.

Ava stared down at him—her expression hard to read.

“I don't know if I can get down,” she said at last.

He caught her as she toppled off.

She felt light in his arms, warm and delicate, and an urge to bury his head in her hair and hold her close swept over him, so strong he almost gasped before he released her, flexing his hands in shock.

Unaware of his struggle, she turned and leaned against the horse, sliding a hand down its flanks. “Sorry, sorry,” she murmured to it. “You got a raw deal with us.”

She tried to straighten, staggered a little, and he moved her aside to unclip the horse's reins and let it move as it wished.

They would have to leave it here, and hope it found its way back to the fortress.

When he turned, he found Ava was still standing where he'd left her, swaying slightly.

“They're coming.” Her voice was a little raw.

“Yes, but the horse can't go any more.”

She nodded, then sank to the ground, head bowed. “Just need a moment,” she whispered.

The dogs bayed in the distance, and he scooped her up as he tried to work out the lay of the land.

The ground was undulating, gentle rises and falls, covered in a thick forest. There was plenty of cover, but the dogs would find them.

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