We were trapped. We had nowhere to run. The cloaked man stepped forward, one hand outstretched in a show of surrender, of mercy.
Scarlett had slapped me on the cheeks until I woke up, the pain in my shoulder threatening to take me under with each breath I took. She was shaking uncontrollably as the man approached us, casting a cold shadow over where Scarlett rested on her knees beside me, with the dead wolf on my other side.
I was covered in its blood. I could feel it starting to dry against my skin. I wanted to vomit–I needed to, especially as the man stepped into the cave and grabbed me roughly, forcing me into a seated position with one hand forcing my elbow into my side. I gritted my teeth against the pain, looking up into his startling pale green eyes. He had a long, jagged scar t
