Page 73 of The Hunted

It’s what scared her the most.

Not even being caught terrified her like this.

“Eryx.”

The sharp call of his name had her mate finally tearing his eyes away from her. The man behind him, whose clothes were of slightly better quality than those who’d come off the ship, gave Eryx a pointed look that for whatever reason, had his shoulders tensing.

He didn’t look back at her.

It was just a second …

Maybe two.

But in those quick moments, the thrall was gone. Arelle could breathe a little easier, and search for an opening in the large circle of men all around her. She quickly realized there wasn’t a way for her to escape her current situation, but damn her if she wasn’t going to at least try.

Not considering the consequences, she lithely moved to her feet before darting for what she thought might be the weakest men in the group. Shorter than the others, and a bit rounder in their middles, if she was going to make a run for the sea, then those two were probably the easiest to get through.

With everyone else’s attention on Eryx and the man speaking to him, the two Arelle picked to use as her escape didn’t see her coming until it was too late. She darted away from the pile of blue netting that had kept her trapped until they dumped her on the wharf; her bare feet hit the wood with fast smacks. Her fingernails ripped into the side of the one man’s throat while her other hand raked lines down his companion’s face. Her hiss of warning was the only sound she made as the two separated to give her more access to the sea behind them.

Except she didn’t make it that far.

As fast as her attempt at an escape had begun, it was over when the others realized what was happening. She should have known better. There were too many landwalkers in close proximity. Some with weapons, and others with nothing more than brute strength.

Arelle didn’t even know how it happened, but she found herself on her back on the wharf, staring up at a quickly darkening sky as the air rushed out of her lungs. A boot rested on her chest, keeping her pinned to the ground. In the background, the men she’d injured cursed her and promised violence.

All she could do was laugh.

The boot on her chest pressed harder.

An attempt to quiet her.

“Quite enough, there,” the blonde man said above her.

She recognized him.

He’d directed them in catching her.

Watched her when they’d got her in the net.

Moments ago, he’d been on the deck of the ship.

Had he jumped down?

“Easy, Corval.”

Eryx’s murmured words had all the fight leaving Arelle at once. She tipped her head to the side, finding him watching her behind a row of men who now seemed both wary and on edge. She wouldn’t get a second attempt at escape.

Arelle already knew.

“You have to watch them, boys. Especially ones like this.”

The man—Corval?—glanced down at her, his stare going right to the burned brand on the back of her hand.

“Very worthy piece, however,” he added. “She should be on display.”

What did that even mean?

Arelle went back to staring up at the sky, and then a second later, a heavy item dropped on top of her. It took her all of a single breath to realize it was a fur-trimmed cloak. It covered her nakedness—not that she minded; nudity wasn’t a taboo to her kind, but she wasn’t with her people—and seemed to remind the rest to avert their stares.