Chapter 1

Chapter One

H unter

The late afternoon sun filters through the thick pines, casting long shadows across the clearing. The air smells like damp moss and pine sap—familiar, grounding, a reminder that this is my territory. My boots crunch on dried leaves as I bend to collect firewood, the rough bark scraping my hands. I should be focused on the basics: shelter, warmth, survival. But something feels off, a prickle at the back of my neck.

Then I see her.

She's crouched by a berry bush, her hair tangled and clothes too loose, like they barely belong to her. She's picking berries with shaky fingers, her eyes darting around, wild and wary. There's a desperation in the way she works, as if this small act is the only control she has left. My chest tightens with a sudden, primal need to protect. She can't be more than eighteen or nineteen and she looks like a scared animal.

I lower myself behind a cluster of ferns, keeping my movements slow. I watch her, taking in every detail. My time in the Army taught me well–I can smell fear and the fear in this woman's eyes isn't the ordinary kind. It's deep-rooted, ingrained, the kind of fear that's had time to settle. Just like the women and children living under terrorizing regimes in Afghanistan, I recognize it—and I've seen it enough times to know what it means.

"Hey," I call out, deliberately making noise as I straighten. My voice is low but clear, carrying a calm authority.

She freezes, her head snapping up. The makeshift berry pouch falls from her hands, spilling its contents onto the forest floor. Her eyes—big, wide, and terrified—lock onto mine. For a second, I think she might bolt, but she stays, trembling like a cornered deer.

I raise my hands, palms open, trying to project as much calm as possible. "Easy," I say, my tone softer now. "I'm not here to hurt you."

She stares at me, her eyes full of questions, mistrust. I don't move closer, just let the silence hang between us. I need her to make the next move, to decide whether I'm a threat or not.

"You're lost, aren't you?" I ask, taking a careful step forward. "Or hiding from something."

She doesn't answer, just swallows hard, her throat working as if she's trying to find the words. Her gaze flickers to the trees behind me, then back, as if expecting someone else to appear. I keep my stance relaxed, even though everything inside me is on high alert.

"What's your name?" I ask gently, trying to coax her to talk.

"Lark," she finally whispers, her voice raw, like it hasn't been used in a while.

"Lark," I repeat slowly, letting the name roll off my tongue. It suits her somehow—wild, untamed, and fragile all at once. "That's a pretty name."

She doesn't respond, just hugs her makeshift berry pouch tighter, like it's the only thing keeping her grounded. The vulnerability in her eyes tugs at something deep inside me. I force myself to keep my voice steady.

"You don't look like you belong out here," I say, keeping my tone casual even though my mind is racing. "Where are you staying?"

"A cabin," comes her simple answer.

"Where's the cabin?" I push for more details.

Her eyes dart away, hesitation written all over her face. But then she nods faintly to the west. "It's…back that way," she murmurs.

My jaw tightens. The pieces are starting to fall into place, and none of them are good. Her clothes are worn, her face pale, and there's a bruise peeking out from under her collar. It's not fresh, but it's enough to make my blood simmer with anger.

"Who's with you?" I ask, my voice dropping lower, taking on an edge I can't hide.

She hesitates again, and for a moment I think she might shut down. But then she whispers, "Cyrus. He…he took me."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Cyrus. I've heard stories about him—an old man who's gone off-grid, known for doing things his own way. Rumors of a criminal record follow his name, but that's the case for most anti-social men living up in these mountains. No one's seen Cyrus in town for years. He's bad news, but hearing that he's got this young woman in his clutches makes my protective instincts flare, hard and fast. I keep my expression neutral, though. The last thing she needs is for me to scare her more.

"How long have you been with him?" I ask, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible.

"Months," she says, her chin trembling. Her voice is barely audible, like she's confessing a sin.

The rage inside me simmers hotter, but I keep it under control. I can't lose it now. I need her to trust me. "And you want to leave, right?" I ask, the question more of a vow than a request.

Lark's eyes meet mine, full of desperation and a spark of something that looks like hope. She nods quickly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Yes…but he'll find me," she chokes out, her voice cracking with fear.

I step closer, my movements slow and deliberate. "Not if I get you out of here," I vow, my voice rough with intensity. "I know these woods better than anyone. I can keep you safe, but you have to trust me."

For the first time, something shifts in her expression. She takes a tentative step toward me, her eyes searching mine as if trying to find some truth there. "You'd do that for me?" she asks, disbelief heavy in her voice.

I extend my hand, palm up, a silent offer. "Come with me, Lark. I promise you'll be safe."

There's a moment of hesitation, then she takes a deep breath and places her small, trembling hand in mine. The warmth of her skin sends a jolt through me, but I don't let it show. I squeeze her hand gently, then she lets my hand drop.

"I can't. He'll find me." Tears well in her gorgeous green eyes.

Before I have a chance to convince her to stay with me, she turns on her heel and heads in the direction of the thick woods at the edge of the clearing. "Wait!" I yell at her back. "You can find me at Devil's Peak Lodge, it's about fifteen miles straight East of where we are right now. Follow the river, day or night–find me and I'll make sure he never hurts you again."

She reaches the treeline and looks back over her shoulder, sadness covering her sweet features. She's so beautiful and so broken it nearly breaks me wide open.

Then she turns back to the woods and vanishes without another word.

And that's when I know that I have to do something. I won't sleep until I know this woman is safe. I'll kill anyone that tries to hurt her.