I let my gaze wander the dark trees, then I glance back at him, at the raw hunger simmering under his control.
And the idea gathers sparks into a living flame.
“Bear?” I murmur, my tone careful, coaxing.
His eyes flick to me, heavy with suspicion. “What, petal?”
I swallow a smile. “Pull over. Please?”
“Right here?” He growls low, suspicion sharpening his gaze.
But I widen my eyes, bite my lip, and let a hint of mischief slip through. “Please?”
And he does it.
The truck slows… rolls to a stop at the edge of the woods.
My hand is already on the handle.
And I don’t hesitate.
17
KNOX
The truck hasn’t even fully stopped when she moves.
One second my petal is beside me, the next the door is flying open, her small boots hitting gravel, hair wild in the night breeze as she sprints away.
Shelaughs.
Actually laughs, that wicked sound pouring out as she bolts into the trees, skirt flaring, silky chestnut hair catching what little light the moon gives us.
“Race you home!” she calls over her shoulder, voice breathless.
Daring.
My blood turns molten as thoughts of traps and sheer cliff edges tear through my mind and my chest.
“Lily!” I bellow, the sound ripping out of me raw and feral, rolling across the forest like thunder. “You fucking stop right there, little girl!”
My boots slam the ground and my body launches after her. The earth shakes under my weight as I tear down the trail, trees blurring past, every muscle straining.
She squeals, the sound high and sharp, weaving like fucking magic through branches. I see the flash of her blue dress darting ahead and fuck me, she’s fast. Faster than I expected. The new boots give her speed and confidence, her legs pumping with a strength I didn’t see that first night tangled in my snare.
For a heartbeat—God help me—I almost admire it. Almost let pride flicker at how strong she’s become under my roof, on my mountain.
In my care.
But admiration burns quick into need.
Because the longer she stays out of my reach, the more the terror claws at me. That I’m losing her. That tonight, after the disaster of the fair, she might run for real.
The fair.
Christ, it was a mistake.
Dragging her down into a pit of staring eyes and whispers on every side. My temper stretched thin, and I had to focus every ounce of attention on her before I gave in to the urge for my fists to break bone.
