Without another word, I return to the camp and cock my gun toward the sky, firing four shots into the air.
My men jump to their feet with weapons drawn, and it takes them a few seconds to realize that it’s me who pulled the trigger.
“Change of plans,” I say. “We need to leave now. Make haste.”
They don’t protest or argue, and I summon Mauricio.
“Um Gabriel?” Sola rushes over to me. “When you say ‘now,’ how much time is that exactly?”
“Spare me your wordplay today, Sola,” I say. “Belle needs to share a horse with you for this next leg. Keep her distracted when we reach the disputed lands.”
“Belle isn’t here anymore…She’s gone.”
“What?”
“I took my eyes off of her for a few moments so she could relieve herself, and I guess she ran away.”
“How long is ‘a few moments?’”
“I thought you didn’t want to play any word games.”
“How fucking long, Sola?”
Her face pales as white as the moonlight while giving me the answer.
“She couldn’t have gotten far.” She avoids my gaze. “Her only option is moving backward.”
“How the hell did you lose her?”
“I really thought we were having a bonding moment and she didn’t seem like the runaway type. Please don’t hate me.”
You’re lucky I can’t kill you…
“Tobias?” I call out. “Tobias!”
“Yes, sir?” He looks over his shoulder.
“Keep your eye on Miss Sola until I return.” I hop onto Mauricio. “Show her exactly what the fuck it means when I say, ‘Don’t let her out of your sight.’”
“Yes, sir…”
Dancing in the Moonlight
Belle
The first time I “saw” a naked man, he was a hero who lived between the pages of a romance novel. His beauty unfolded through a series of flowery descriptions, with phrases like ‘sinewy muscles,’ ‘hazy, rich eyes,’ and ‘a jawline carved in stone.’
The author wrote that the heroine in question ‘longed for the man’s touch’ after just one glance, and that the mere thought of his body ‘clouded and controlled her mind’ for days.
I used to think those lines were utterly ridiculous, a way to stretch the story’s pages and distract the reader from the real plot, but seeing Gabriel naked erased all my past reflections with ease.
I did long to see the rest of him, and I wanted to know what it would feel like if he pulled me under that cascade with him.
Stop it. He wants your sister. Not you…
“Tonight, tonight, my plans I make!” The dancing man’s raspy voice cuts through my thoughts, slamming me into reality.
He’s been dancing for what feels like forever, completely undeterred from the night’s cold snowfall.
Even while building a small fire for himself, his singing and movement have yet to miss a beat.
Plucking an apple from the ground, I lie in wait between bites. I refuse to let the freezing downpour or my body’s shivering deter me.
That locket will be mine again.
I toss my sixth apple core to the ground before the man finally slumps against a stone.
He’s fooled me before by standing up to dance again, so I count backward to make sure he’s finally done putting on a show.
Five, four, three, two…
I push the snow off my shoulders and make my move.
Rushing toward his fire, I step directly in front of him and withdraw the dagger.
“Do what I fucking say, and I won’t kill you,” I keep my voice firm. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
“Come again, Beautiful?” His lips curve into a smile. “What did you say to me?”
“Keep your mouth shut and listen.”
“I’m afraid I’ve never been quite good at that.” He’s still smiling. “A woman who looks like you doesn’t belong anywhere near this part of the world. Are you in need of some directions?”
“Give me that locket around your neck. Now.”
“Give you?” He laughs, tucking it under his shirt. “I bought this locket fair and square, but if you want it badly enough, we can make a deal.”
“I told you not to move.” I hold the knife steady, but he stands anyway.
The sinister look in his eyes as he steps forward gives me pause, and the hairs on the back of my neck slowly stand one by one.
A cold and harsh wind suddenly blows between us, silencing the flames of his fire.
“What’s the point in buying something I like if I can’t keep it?”
“I don’t care that you bought it, it’s mine.” I hold my ground. “The deal is me not murdering you once you hand it over.”
“Here’s an even better deal.” He pulls a tattered cerulean cloth from his pocket. “I’ll consider giving you this instead since I believe it belongs to someone you might be looking for. Then again, it may be the last that’s left of her.”
My heart drops once I recognize Izzie’s favorite hair ribbon, that in my desire to get away, I’ve forgotten that she’s probably stumbling around these woods lost…or dead.