Siege And Seduction

29

Chapter Eleven OceanofPDF.com KNIGHT IT WAS A GIVEN Morgan would try to escape me, but I had hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid. So much for wishful thinking. Did she truly believe my presence was threatening enough to justify wandering off in the middle of the night? She hadn’t even taken the knife with her. She was defenseless, for f**k’s sake. I stomped through the woods with the knife tightly gripped in my fist, following her trail as I had done since I woke alone just before dawn. Thankfully, I had impeccable tracking skills. She maintained a breakneck pace with minimal stops, but that wasn’t enough to shake me. Had she thought I would wake alone, shrug my shoulders, and simply saunter back home? Who knew what the hell the crazy woman had been thinking. I was livid at her for running and just as furious at myself for worrying about her. I didn’t want to have to tell Merlin his foster daughter had died on my watch, but it was more than that. I didn’t want to see her hurt … or worse, and that fear bothered me. Morgan should be strictly business. An arrangement and nothing more. I argued with myself relentlessly that it was only the cauldron I was after—if Morgan was killed, it would make my chances of finding the cauldron that much more difficult. That was the only reason I was upset. My racing heart had nothing to do with the way her soft lips had molded against mine or the way her body had fit perfectly pressed against me. If the wolf was acting possessive, it was irrelevant. Morgan was a means to an end—that was it—and my means had made a run for it. I came across a fallen tree with a butt-shaped area of compacted dirt evidencing her recent proximity. Instead of being relieved to see I was on the right track, a dark sense of foreboding wound its way into my gut. Next to where she had sat was a fresh, deep gouge in the soil along with an enormous footprint. She wasn’t alone. Something had attacked her. I tore off in the direction of the tracks, my blood rocketing through my veins, my mind consumed with the hunt. I hadn’t run far when a pained cry reached my ears. Grounding to a halt, I peered through a smattering of trees and edged toward the sound. Almost one hundred yards ahead, Morgan was held captive by two enormous Spriggans. Each of her arms was pulled wide by one of the beasts, and her head hung low in defeat as one of her captors lifted his hand back in what would doubtless be a devastating blow. Without a second thought, I transported myself directly behind the creature. Leaping onto its back, I used the knife to slit its throat from ear to ear. Thick blue blood arced out from the gaping wound, spraying Morgan and the other creature. The Spriggans both released her in their surprise, and she fell to the ground, scuttling away from the scene. I leaped off the bleeding Spriggan and lunged for its partner, wishing I could check on Morgan but knowing I could not afford to be distracted. The creature hissed and swiped at me with its filthy black claws, stepping back in a defensive posture. We squared off, circling each other aggressively. Having no need to continue the fight any longer than necessary, I transported myself directly behind him with the expectation of disabling him as I had done his friend. The creature must have anticipated my move because as soon as I appeared, he whipped around and clenched my throat in his gnarled fingers. Using skills I hadn’t known I possessed, I dropped my body and spun backward to twist the Spriggan’s arm. With his arm bent awkwardly, I slammed my arm down on his elbow with brutal force, causing him to roar in pain and release his grip on my neck. Not pausing a second, I took his hand and twisted it behind his back, then kicked the back of his legs to bring him crashing to his knees. Once he was reduced to my height, I slashed his throat as I had done to his brethren. With a gurgle of surprise, he clenched his hand over the spurting wound and hit the ground like a fallen tree. For several breathless seconds, I stood towering over the creature in the eerie silence of the forest. As if aware danger was about, nothing but the wind dared make a sound. As the adrenaline began to ebb in my system, I took a deep, cleansing breath and scanned the area for Morgan. She was nowhere in sight. Unease cooled my heated blood. I walked in the direction where I had seen her flee, scouring the area for signs of her. “Morgan? Where are you?” Just when I started to wonder if she had continued to run from me, I caught sight of white-blond hair poking out from around a tree. As I rounded closer, Morgan’s huddled form came into full view. She sat with her back against the tree trunk, knees held tightly to her chest, cheeks wet from a barrage of tears. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, face battered and bloody. The sight of her made me wish I could kill those bastards again—this time, drawing out every possible second of pain until the end. I clenched my jaw, tempering down my fury, and lifted Morgan into my arms. “I’ve got you,” I murmured into her blond waves. Walking to a nearby log, I sat down and held her close—both to comfort her and reassure myself of her safety. My anger toward her evaporated instantly at seeing her so broken. Morgan was the embodiment of female strength and power. She was confident, capable, and more courageous than any one person should be. I doubted she had allowed herself many opportunities of weakness, let alone permitted anyone else to witness that fragility. This moment in the woods was costing her dearly. “Why did you run from me?” I asked as gently as my gruff voice would allow. “You’re working with Merlin. You want to keep me caged. As soon as this is over, and you get your memories, you’ll put me right back in that house and lock me away.” Her voice was so small, I ached to assure her she was wrong, but I couldn’t. She was absolutely right. I had every intention of taking her back to Merlin when this was all done. “Merlin won’t keep you there forever,” I offered as a weak consolation. “It’s not forever I’m worried about.” She brought her hand up to trace her fingers along the edge of my shirtsleeve. “There are things I have to do, places I have to go.” She pulled her head back to peer up at me hesitantly. “I need the cauldron for a reason. There are reasons for everything I’ve done.” What was she trying to tell me? From the day I met her, she hadn’t explained, refuted, nor apologized for anything she had done in the past. She had seemed more than happy for me to believe her to be evil and ruthless as her image portrayed. Was she now claiming there was more to her plight? “I don’t suppose you’re going to explain that any further?” I arched a brow at her, but of course, it did no good.