AARYN
Aaryn grunted, wrestling with the male who'd hidden in the trees of those stupid gardens at the big house. It had taken a minute to catch up with him, a chase through the thickets of trees while Aaryn's head screamed at him to get back, to go back, to get across, to return…
Before he'd gotten his hands on the traitor, he'd almost died.
There was a gash over his ribs where an arrow had found his flesh, but hit at the wrong angle, sliding through his skin, then carrying on.
But it had shown him where the male was.
The seconds it had taken the so-called Protector to re-arm had given him enough time to sprint the final space between them and leap through the bushes to tackle the fucker to the ground.
