PROLOGUE
HALSTON
FIVE YEARS AGO
“Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.”
I said the words over and over, even though they were barely audible anymore. They’d become my mantra. The steady beat forced me forward, even if the howling wind swallowed the words, and my lips barely moved.
My teeth chattered violently as I struggled to get my legs to continue their motion. The fresh cuts on my stomach stung as the wind whipped against the thin sheath I wore. I wanted to tear it from my body and rip away everything thathehad tainted.
I squinted into the night, trying to see through the thick trees and falling snow to…anything.
A whimper escaped my lips as my bare foot hit an especially sharp rock. I’d thought my limbs had lost feeling in the freezing snow, but I was wrong.
I told myself that was good. It meant they weren’t frostbitten—yet.
I glanced over my shoulder at the night behind me. I didn’t hear him. Not anymore. At first, he’d screamed my name into the night, but then he’d gone quiet.
Quiet was always worse. I’d learned that on day four. But then twenty-nine days followed. Days where I was sure I’d die in that damp, dark cave. Days where I sometimes wished I had.
“Keep moving.”
I clenched my fists as my body trembled, pressing my fingernails into my palms and hoping the pain would spur me on. My nails were long now with nothing to cut them with. But I’d gotten used to pain, had a higher tolerance for it, and my nails cutting into my flesh did nothing.
My stomach cramped in a vicious twist. My joints felt stiff, like the Tin Man in that movie.What was it called?
A wave of dizziness swept over me, followed by a surge of heat. I suddenly felt like I was sweating, burning up from the inside out. The urge to pull the flimsy shift from my body was so strong.
Everything hurt, from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. My flesh felt as though it were cracking open.
I stumbled, falling to my knees. The chill of the snow was bliss on my overheated flesh. I let myself topple and roll to my back. Blessed snow. The cold seeped into my skin, soothing.
A voice lifted on the wind. I thought I heard my name.
Tears leaked from my eyes. It washim. He’d found me.
I needed to get up. Run. Fight.
But I couldn’t. Maybe I’d be lucky, and he’d finally kill me.
Movement swam above me—a figure.
“Halston?”
The voice was deep with grit, as though sandpaper coated it. But there was also something comforting about it; it had a gentleness. It wasn’t like the man’s.
“Holy hell,” another voice rumbled. “Is she wearing a nightgown? It’s nine degrees.”
“Call it in,” the voice above me snapped.
The figure swam above me again, his face coming in and going out of focus. In and out. But every time my vision cleared, beauty struck me: dark hair and thick scruff around an angular jaw. A nose that looked as if it had possibly been broken at one point. And his eyes…
There was something about the deep blue. I wanted to drown in the pools. They were kind. Not mean. Not like the man’s angry brown ones.
“Halston, you’re safe now. We’re gonna get you out of here. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
I heard the other man calling off numbers and then the crackle of a radio.
