Following Kieran across the deep woodland, the evening air smelled strongly of pine and moist dirt. Though my body hurt from tiredness, every stride I made felt weighty. I couldn't slow down. I had decided to abandon the wreckage of my former life, but I had no idea where this new road would go.
Kieran glided like a shadow, his movements light and under control, his silver eyes glowed weakly in the moonlight. He hadn't talked since we left the cabin, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or negative thing.
Once, my chest constricting, I looked behind me.
Right now, I was really alone. I was by myself, not in a group. Not at home. Never, Sebastian.
Only the child developing inside me and the renegade who had rescued me.
Just now.
Kieran went without looking back; his stance was comfortable but somehow rigid, as if he were always on alert for threat. I wasn't sure I could count on him. Hell, I knew him hardly anymore.
Kieran was hazardous, one thing I did know, though.
And I was not merely discussing his fighting style or strength.
He possessed something wild— something primal, something unguarded. Bound by custom and convention, he was not like the wolves in my pack. Kieran acted wild. He was a creature of instinct.
And I wasn't sure if he was my next mistake or my defender.
"How far more?" At last, I shattered the quiet; my voice is weak from neglect.
Kieran continued to stroll. Not far.
"That's not a response."
He grinned but did not turn around. "That is the only one you are receiving.".
I let out a short breath, irritation blazing in my chest. "I hardly know where you're dragging me."
Kieran slowed then and looked over his shoulder at last. Would you prefer to go back?
I opened and then closed my mouth.
Not exactly. There was no way to go back.
I shook my head, and Kieran nodded once more and then started ahead.
Then quit whining and keep up.
I bit back a reply and trailed along.
Hours went by, and I grew increasingly restless as we sank further into the jungle. Here the trees were taller, the air cooler, and an eerie calm had enveloped all. There was not even a single bird in sight. Not even a breeze.
Stillness, exactly.
Kieran has also observed it. His hands loosened, but he was tight in his body. a predator aware of another predator.
I could feel it as well.
Looking at us was something.
Before Kieran's hand darted out, firmly clutching my wrist, I hardly had time to consider the possibility. "Stay close," he said, his tone uninterpretable.
A shiver slid down my back.
Then, somewhere in the distance, rustling.
Kieran's eyes glowed. He spun abruptly to put himself between me and whatever was out there.
I let out a breath.
Then it materialized.
not a rebel. Not one of wolves.
But even worse.
Something I had only lately heard whispers of.
Wild.
She was a wolf who had completely surrendered to the beast within. She had no intention of doing so. The situation is out of control. There is no pity.
Its fur matted dark with crusted blood, its eyes fierce.
I hardly had time to blink before it shot forward.
Kieran left first.
In a sudden burst of energy, he pushed me away and confronted the wild directly. The impact sent them both tumbling into the ground, snarls tearing across the night air.
My heart thumping, I hurried to get on. I ought to have started running. I was aware of it. Kieran had handed me an opening. My body, though, refused to move.
Kieran was quick, his motions exact, but the ferocity was pure, uninformed wrath. It battled simply the unrelenting impulse to destroy, not with any control or fear.
And for the first time since gathering Kieran once again, I observed his struggle.
I didn't consider it. I moved.
With all the might I could muster, I lunged for the closest rock and dropped it down on the feral's skull.
It hardly moved.
It turned its bloodshot gaze on me instead.
I stood still.
Kieran hit, though, before it could attack.
He moved so quickly I hardly noticed it—a horrible crunch, a flash of silver, then silence.
The feral went dead and slumped.
Over it Kieran stood, his chest rising and falling with hard gasps.
Then he turned gradually toward me.
"What the hell was that?" Still clutching the worthless pebble, I demanded.
With the back of his palm, he dabbed at the blood on his face. a warning.
I frowned. "Warnings?"
Kieran's demeanor became grim. "We are not by ourselves out here. And we are under hunters' sights.
Kieran continued moving once more, not saying another word, and this time I stayed silent.
Though my head was whirling, one idea shone through the anarchy.
Something was absolutely, quite wrong if ferals were thus close.
For ferals did not simply show up.
Made were these?
Something implied someone had done something with intent.
Someone was creating monsters.
And should we be careless, we would be next.
Deeper exploration of the wilderness by Zaia and Kieran only begs additional issues. Behind the savage attacks is who? For what reason are they under hunt?
Most importantly... what is Kieran hiding?