Renegade (The Captive Series Book 2) by Erica Stevens

did not scream as she planted her legs against the tree
trunk and shoved off it with all of her might.
    He stumbled slightly backward as she
lurched sharply against him with the full force of her small
weight. He kept hold of the collar of her shirt though, clinging to
her as she tried to dart forward, tried to pull free of his hold.
She was far more stubborn, wild, and determined to escape than he
had thought she would be. He knew she was a spitfire, but she was a
lot more volatile than he recalled her being. She flung herself
forward; the thin material of her clothing tore within his tight
hold.
    She staggered, seemingly just as
surprised as him to be momentarily free of his grasp. He dove at
her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he caught hold of her.
She cried out softly in surprise as they tumbled to the ground.
Though he didn’t care about her, he shifted his weight away from
her, trying not to crush her beneath him as they rolled over the
ground. She was frantic now, squirming against him, her terror
evident as she tried to escape his ironclad grasp.
    He was surprised by the brief moment of
guilt that tugged at him. He wanted her to pay for her perfidy, but
he had not meant to terrify her to this extreme. She tried to
stagger to her feet, but he kept hold of her waist, pulling her
back underneath him as he flipped her over. Her eyes were wide, her
hair a straggling mess around her flushed face. She was panting
beneath him, her fear palpable as she continued to try and squirm
out of his hold.
    He seized hold of her hair, his hand
wrapping into the thick, wet mess. She pushed at his chest, shoving
against him as a soft whimper escaped her. He didn’t know what he
was thinking, what he was doing, but instead of burying his teeth
in her neck and draining her dry as he had imagined doing for the
past couple of months, his lips descended upon her mouth, seizing
hold of it. Her hands flattened against his chest as she went still
as stone beneath him. He pressed tighter against her, wanting some
sort of response, needing something from her, anything.
    Needing to break her in some small way,
just as she had broken him.
    Then, her hands curled into his shirt,
her fingers dug against his skin. A small gasp escaped her as her
soft lips parted beneath his. She clung to him, her body melting
against his. He invaded her, savoring in the taste and feel of her
as he pulled her tighter. He forgot everything, all of her
treachery, all of the anger and hurt as he held her. It was hard to
remember anything when she was so right, and good in his arms. He
had never felt anything as wonderful as she was, and as long as he
held her, he didn’t care what happened around them.
    It wasn’t until he tasted the saltiness
of her tears upon his lips that he realized she was crying. It
wasn’t until he pulled away to wipe her tears from her silken
cheeks that he realized he cared for her far more than he had been
willing to admit to himself. It wasn’t until she rested her
forehead against his chest and began to sob heavily that he
realized they were both doomed.

    ***

    Aria watched silently as the prince
threw another log on the fire. She folded her hands before her,
clasping them tightly between her legs. Her eyes felt heavy, sore
from crying. Her chest still hurt from the force of the sobs that
had wracked her. Despite the heat, she was cold, freezing really.
Numb with the shock, and horror, still clinging to her. He turned
away from her, the muscles in his hard back flexing as he grabbed
another log and tossed it onto the fire.
    Aria glanced around the small house he
had brought her to. She didn’t know why she was here, how he had
known about it, but it was a quaint little cottage. He turned back
to her, studying her for a long moment before he made his way
slowly back to her. “You need to dry off, you’re shivering.” She
didn’t tell him that she wasn’t shivering because she was still wet
and chilled from the river. They both