Page 140 of Ensnared

“Thisis important,Eden.Whatdid he look like?”Domasks, then kneels to re-pack my bag for me with swift experience.

Irun a hand over my tangled hair, trying to catch up with this abrupt shift in tone. “I—Well, he was a little older.Maybeearly fifties?Shortbeard.Saltand pepper hair.I—Idon’t know what else.Mediumbuild, but he was strong?Iremember he was strong.”

“Fuck,”Beaucurses as he yanks his pack up, and an ice-cold weight lands in my stomach.

Beaudoesn’t swear.Notlike that.

WhenDomhands me my pack, my hands are trembling with foreboding.

Iglance around the clearing.Allevidence of our messy, perfect tryst is gone.DomandBeau’sfaces are wiped of emotion too.They’reback to pure soldier mode now.Ifthe aching weakness in my muscles wasn’t screaming at me,Icould almost think it hadn’t happened.

“Please,”Iask, andDompauses. “Whydoes that name matter?Whatdoes it mean?”

Domlooks down at me, and my knees turn to water at what’s in his eyes.Iknow it’s bad then.It’sreally bad.

Forthe first time since we met,Domisafraid.

“Itmeans this trap wasn’t meant for us.”Domlooks away and slings his rifle over his shoulder. “ItmeansBristlebrookis under attack.”

Chapter31

Jasper

Survivaltip #199

Whenyou discover your fatal weakness,

either protect it at all costs...

or destroy it.

“Damnit!”

Ihit the desk in frustration, then push back in my chair, scowling at the screens.Scrubbinga hand over my eyes,Isigh.There’sa twinge in my back that tells meI’mnot as young asIused to be—I’llbe paying for sitting up in this chair all night and most of the day.Mystomach is tight with hunger butI’mreluctant to stop long enough to get myself some food.Icaved and had breakfast, but lunch had been due hours ago.

Whywould that group just sit there?Itdoesn’t make sense.Thespot is exposed, and the closest source of water is a fifteen-minute trek away.Butthere are men camped there—they slip into frame often enough thatI’msure of that.

EversinceEdenarrived and alerted us to the hunter issue, something has been off.Myinstincts have been screaming at me for days.We’remissing something critical.Iam missing something critical, andIdon’t want to fail again.Jaykobmay have been crude, but he had a point:I’vemissed too much already.

Perhapsthere is a flavor of self-flagellation to my tired vigil, where the sadist in me relishes even my own penance.Buta few uncomfortable nights aren’t enough to make up for missing the cameras, or forEdenrunning off.

Andthat’s not even to mention my greater failures.

Withanother heavy sigh,Ipush myself back over to the desk and rewind one of the videos that has been bothering me.Thepicture is clear, from yesterday afternoon just before dusk, from a camera just half an hour fromBristlebrook.Thetrees are sparser here, and there’s a wide view of the forest.Awoodpecker with a small yellow patch of feathers above its beak swoops in and perches on a nearby branch.Mybrow creases.

“Shit,Jasper.Didyou even go to bed last night?”

Athousand needles prickle at the nape of my neck, then down my spine to the backs of my legs.Cursingmyself inwardly,Iglance down at the small screen on the desk which shows the hall and wide-open door.Yetanother thingImissed.

Idon’t turn, keeping my eyes locked on the tiny woodpecker.LookingatLucienis always a mistake—oneIavoid whenever possible.Idon’t need to look, however, to know my seeming indifference slices into him.Hishurt is a tangible, sour taste at the back of my tongue.He’sbeen stiff and uncomfortable around me—almost cold—ever since our conversation in the kitchen, andIcan’t blame him for it.

“I’mworking,Lucien,”Iremind him politely, and rewind the video again, trying to focus on the little bird.

“Oh, sure, butIthought...Look,Ijust think you—”

Lucienhuffs, and there’s a strangled, frustrated whine to it that teases at the dark moodI’min.Nomatter what constraintsIput on myself, hearing charming, chatteryLucienbecome tongue-tied around me is one of my most secret delights.Onethat makes my dick stir and thicken instantly, every time.

Unableto resist it now,Iturn my chair soIcan see him.Hischeeks are flushed the exact shade of pink that always makes me want to bite them, and he’s carrying a tray of food, looking like the star of one of my favorite maid and master fantasies.

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