Page 33 of Forced Mate Bride
“Stop making this harder than it has to be,” Vincent grunted. He gave her arm a tremendous yank, and her hand broke away from the tree. She stumbled toward him, and he kept moving, dragging her after him.
Her mouth had gone dry, and her mind wanted to spiral downward into panic. She attempted to wedge her fingers between his hand and her wrist, to no avail. She gritted her teeth, lunging toward him, trying to claw at whatever she could get to. He dodged her blows with an almost bored ease until she finally stopped, panting from exertion, eyes narrowed in rage.
“At least tell me why,” she said, still trying to tug her hand away. It didn’t do anything.
“Lucas offered me a deal too good to pass up,” he said. “I bring him you, and he makes me his second-in-command once he’s set up his new pack.”
The answer startled her so much that she stopped struggling for a moment. “You’re betraying your pack for a bit of power?” she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust.
“Plenty of people have betrayed their pack for less.”
“I had a higher opinion of you than that,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.
“I don’t think your opinion is going to matter a whole lot going forward,” Vincent said flatly. “Now come on. The more you struggle, the worse it’s going to be for you.”
He jerked her forward, ignoring her continued attempts to pry herself away, her screams and cries for help. Her nails dug into the flesh of his forearm. She heard him give a sharp intake of breath, but that was it.
They crested the ridge. Not too far away, a backpack sat nestled in the leaves underneath a tree. A coiled rope rested on top of it, looking more like a snake preparing to strike.
She stared at it, her heart leaping into her chest, her throat constricting. She didn’t need to wonder what that rope was for. The feel of it wrapping around her wrists, a knee driving between her shoulder blades, and keeping her pinned to the rough concrete threatened to drown her. Her body wanted to freeze in panic.
Once again, thoughts of despair began to crawl across her body, beneath her skin, seeming to ripple up through the ground and up her legs. She pictured herself going meekly with him, not fighting, because there was nothing she could really do, not here in the wilderness. She’d been an idiot to trust Vincent, and now she’d pay the price. It wasn’t as though she was going to get away. Even if she did manage to break his hold, where would she go? She only had the vaguest semblance of a trail to follow, and she pictured herself getting easily lost or tripping.
There was no hope. Might as well just accept it.
She clenched her jaw, steeling herself. No. She wasn’t going to give up like she had last time. She wasn’t going to let him take her. She could get out of this as long as she kept a level head. Jasper had trained her, both at training sessions and at home. He’d helped her so she would be able to protect herselfif he wasn’t around. She pictured his face, not disappointed but expectant, as if he knew she could get out of this, as if he believed in her more than she did herself.
Something about that triggered her, spurred her into action in a way nothing else ever could. She might still have issues with Jasper, might be frustrated with him for what he had done, but she’d be damned if she were going to let everything that had happened to her over the last several weeks have been for nothing.
Before Vincent could react, before he was even aware of her shift in demeanor, she twisted toward him, using his grip on her wrist against him as she yanked him closer. She saw the confusion in his face, but only for a moment. Without giving him a moment to register what was happening, her knee rammed into his crotch as hard as she could.
Vincent’s eyes grew comically wide. He released her, staggering back as he groaned in pain. Remembering her training, she rammed her foot straight into Vincent’s gut. His eyes widened, looking almost bug-like. When he doubled over, her foot lashed out once more, and her heel slammed into his nose. A satisfying crunch echoed through the woods like a snapping branch, and Vincent’s hand flew to his nose.
She didn’t wait to see what happened next. She ran, sprinting over the ridge and back down the nearly invisible trail as fast as she dared. A sharp, downward slope with exposed roots, loose stones, and overgrown bramble made it impossible to run as fast as she wanted.
It didn’t take long for Vincent to get to his feet. She wasn’t sure how far she had gotten, but it felt like no time at all when she heard him crashing through the bramble. She wanted to turn back and look over her shoulder, to see how far he was and howlong it would take for him to get to her. She managed to stop herself. Looking back would only make her trip over her feet, and she’d fall halfway down the slope, either breaking her neck or leaving her as a sitting duck for Vincent.
She kept her eyes forward, running as fast as she could, picking up her feet to avoid stumbling. Her heart raced, and it wasn’t long until pain lanced through her side. The stitch pressed against her gut, making it nearly impossible to think of anything else.
Keep going, keep going, keep going, she chanted in her head like a mantra, willing herself to listen to it.
She focused on her footing, practically dancing down the slope as she maneuvered around rock and brush and root. One foot in front of the other—that was all she needed to focus on at the moment. If she managed to do that, she might get out of this.
Despite her caution, her foot caught on a root. She tumbled to the earth, scraping her palms and elbows. She groaned, grimacing as stinging pain ran along her hands and forearms. Roots and loose stones dug into her knees through her jeans. She panted, staggering to her feet, her body aching wherever it had landed.
Pounding footsteps crunching down on leaves and the sound of someone barreling through brush sounded behind her. All the time she had gained sprinting away from Vincent had evaporated. She didn’t have much time.
Glancing around, her mind began to work. She could keep running and try to make it down the trail and get back to town. But it was rough terrain, and the odds of her tripping and falling once more were relatively high. If she fell again, Vincent would be on her in seconds, and she wasn’t certain she would be able to get away from him a second time. The other option was to hide,to get off the trail and sneak into the woods and find a hiding space. It was risky, but if Vincent kept running past her, she could wait a while and then leave.
The footsteps grew louder.
She stepped off the trail and raced through the overgrown woods as fast as she could. Twigs and thorny bramble scratched her hands and face and clawed at her jacket. She kept moving, searching for something she could use for cover.
She stumbled across a series of large boulders, looming over the rest of the landscape. They were tempting, but something told her they were too obvious a hiding spot. Twisting to glance around, she spotted a thick patch of brush. She could squeeze in if she were careful.
Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, she wedged into the bramble and bushes, crouching low, obscuring herself but maintaining a decent view of the area. She panted, willing herself to breathe easier, for her heart to stop pounding so loudly. The footsteps grew louder, and she knew that Vincent was charging down the trail. The question now was whether he would keep going down the trail or peel off to hunt for her. She swallowed, forcing herself not to move.
The footsteps faded.
