Page 90 of The Vixen

I place my hand on her back and let her grind against me, using my fingers as a comb. “He also mentioned you declined your walk.”

“You mean mytrekthrough the snow? It’s fucking freezing out there, Luna.”

I look down at Cinder as I scratch behind her ears.

“Why are you even here?” he asks.

My lips shift to one side as I tense.

“Aren’t you supposed to be hiding from me?”

I scoff so hard, Cinder flinches and rushes back to Sawyer’s side. I reach my hand out but bring it to my lap and roll my shoulders back. “I’m nothiding. I told you, I’m no longer your handler. We no longer have a reason to interact…”

He sweeps a hand. “And yet…”

And yet…

Tension snaps as I break away from his blue eyes. I stare down at a sheet corner popped out of place, the elastic stretching across the mattress. Sawyer owns practically nothing, yet the floor is littered with seemingly every article of clothing I carefully hung in his closet—so artfully careless it seemsstrategic.

Just walk away.

I stand and turn toward the door, but as a smoky, masculine scent drifts from the squeaking mattress, I find myself immobile.

I lengthen my spine and allow myself one deep, indulgent inhale. When I blow it out, I turn to face Sawyer. “I’d like you to change into sweats. And tennis shoes.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

Cashmere brushes my palms as I smooth my sweater in three short pats. “Because we’re going for a run.”

“What?” Sawyer shakes his head, but before he can object, I continue.

“You’re not just a prisoner; you’re acommodity. I can’t concentrate on my work if I’m worrying about you slitting your wrists, so…Get up. Exercise is good for the spirit.”

He huffs out a laugh and opens his mouth just as I turn to search for his clothes. “You think forcing me to run in the freezing fucking temperatures is going tolift my spirits? My god, have you never heard of alcohol? Just get me a bottle of brandy. I promise my attitude will be in tip-top shape by morning.”

Though the clothes aren’t hard to find, my skin itches as I search. I swipe a pair of sweats off the floor and throw them on the bed.

“Dress,” I say, my voice sharp and final. “I’ll wait outside.”

CHAPTER 23

LUNA

He isn’t as slow as I thought he would be.

The sun has set beneath the treeline, so muscle memory guides our path through the dark, the moon and stars covered by vengeful clouds threatening more snow. Our punishment for the two days of warmer weather has no end in sight according to weather reports—but for now, only a few inches of dusty white crystals crunch beneath our feet. The trees hold more above our heads and sprinkle little flecks onto our numb faces.

I’ve taken the lead ahead of Sawyer in order to steer clear of traps, but part of me wants to fall behind, just to see what his instincts can pick up in the snow. Or if he remembers these woods somehow, even cloaked in white, even in the dark. For any other person, this consideration would be absurd.

I take a sharp left and duck beneath a branch, my legs stretching in front of me as my strides lengthen.

Sawyer doesn’t fall behind. His labored breathing stays at my back as I veer us straight toward a spring-loaded snare. No dull claws this time, just a looped wire meant to catch the ankle of a predator. There’s a pressure plate beneath it that will trigger the wire to tighten and the animal to be lifted into the air. It wouldn’t hurt if he stepped on it. I’ve done it twice during these runs before memorizing the tree in question.

My arms pump just a little harder toward the tree where I visualize the wire, almost certain I know where it is. All it’ll take is a leap to avoid the plate and?—

“Luna, stop!”

The material of my hoodie tightens and yanks me backward into his chest. When he releases, I stumble, momentum not quite sure whether to pull me forward or backward, and eventually fall to my knees in the snow.