Chapter One

The Cold

Ella Bennett

The first thing Ella noticed was the cold. The chill crept along her legs until she curled into a tight ball, but still, the bitter air gnawed, biting at her fingers and toes as she huddled, searching for heat.

Later, the chill became a nagging friend, plaguing her until the temperature tempted her from her sleep. Stirring, she acknowledged how uncomfortable she was and that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't lift her hands to pull the blankets higher around her body.

Why?

The question resonated between the remaining layers of her subconscious, her head aching as she tried to grasp for answers.

Why am I so cold?

Ultimately, it was bird song that roused her entirely, the sound of busy feathered friends making nests that persuaded her weary head that perhaps her discomfort wasn't only a bad dream. Blinking open her eyelids told a perplexing tale—a story of leaves, sticks, and hard earth.

I'm outside?

At least the discovery explained her sore limbs and the type of cold that had sunk into her bones. But why was she sleeping out in the open?

Swallowing back on her rising anxiety, she tried to pull herself upright against the bark of what looked like an enormous and ancient tree. That was when the reality that ought to have been obvious dawned on her. She understood why she wasn't able to move her hands properly.

I'm tied up!Terror ricocheted around her tired body, shattering any lingering drowsiness. What the hell has happened to me?

Straining against the fetters she could feel at her wrists, she forced herself back against the tree trunk. Lifting her head, she took in her surroundings. Trapped inside what looked like a brand-new sleeping bag, her body was confined. She lifted her wrists to the top of her fabric prison, finally able to make out what was binding her. To her dismay, she realized it was a thick and coarse rope, and by the way she was struggling to part her feet, there was something similar securing her ankles.

"What happened?" Her breath was irregular as she struggled to recall.

Ella hadn't gone to sleep outdoors. She knew that much. She didn't even like hiking, let alone camping, and even if she'd been crazy enough to indulge in such an outdoor pursuit, she'd never have been foolish enough to go to sleep without a tent—preferably one of those huge two-man types with a separate area for washing and space for a large air mattress.

"I didn't do this." There was power in saying the words out loud, as though the birds whistling overhead somehow judged her for her predicament. "I didn't come here, didn't bind myself!"

She yanked against the rope holding her hands together, as if one tug was all it would take to separate them. Frustrated to find her liberation was not so easy, she tried to take stock. Closing her eyes, she fought to recollect how she'd ended up there.

What could she remember from the night before, or perhaps more critically, what couldn't she remember?

What was the last fragment of memory she recalled?

It was a simple enough query, but try as she might, there was only black wooliness where there once had been clarity. Her head ached as she concentrated. Had she been drinking? It was possible. Ella liked a bottle of wine as much as the next woman, but still, she couldn't remember the details that had led to her waking alone and bound in the forest.

A low pulsing thrum interrupted her efforts, and heart racing, she recognized the sound of a vibrating phone.

"My phone!" Her pulse spiked as she searched around, trying to ascertain where the notification had derived. The reverberation had been muffled, as though the phone was shoved inside her pocket, but when she lowered her bound wrists and felt around the pockets of her joggers, there was no device to be found. "Where's my phone?"

Thick, hot dread filled her as she grappled to find the device. Ella never went anywhere without her phone. Wherever she was yesterday, it would have been with her. Knowing how attached she was to her technology, it was probable that she was holding the damn device when she'd fallen asleep. Someone would have to have drugged her to remove it.

A wave of cold panic washed over her. "Maybe my drink was spiked, or…" Her voice trailed away as she wrestled with what else might have transpired.

Why couldn't she remember anything?

The phone whirred again, the device buzzing right by her left thigh. Heart hammering, she lurched for the lifeline, seizing it from its hiding place between her legs.

"Thank God!"

Grasping the phone, she brought it closer to her face. Whatever bubble of relief she'd acknowledged at discovering the device abruptly burst when her gaze fell over it. It wasn't her phone. The slim-line technology wasn't even a brand she recognized.

Tapping at the buttons as best she could in her fettered hands, she held the device aloft. "This isn't mine!"

Why was there a strange phone caught in the sleeping bag in which she was confined? Who the hell had put it there?

No doubt the same person who put me here.

She shivered at the disturbing thought. Someone had done that because people didn't just wake up bound in the woods.

Someone had done that to her.

"I'm in trouble." Her body stiffened as she fought back the tears welling in her eyes. "What am I going to do?"

Staring at the strange phone she'd found wedged between her and the sleeping bag, she gripped the device tighter. Maybe she could use it to call for help.

There'd have to be a signal.She peered once again around the canopy of trees above her, hoping the greenery wouldn't denigrate the chances of finding one. Please let there be a signal.

Switching on the phone, she held her breath. This was it—her way out of this nightmare. All she had to do was to make an emergency call, but to her horror, the screen reverted straight to a message she'd never seen before.

She's never known yours.

Her brows knitted as she tried to make sense of the riddle.

Don't start Bowman.

Remember, I don't

Have time.

Contact doesn't bother

me.

Do this again?

Many say until

Then, but we have never agreed.

Alarm bells rang in her mind.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The message didn't even make sense! No direct threat had been made to her, and the missive didn't even mention her by name, but deep down, Ella knew it was bad news.

Someone had tied her up in the sleeping bag, and whoever that was had slipped the device she now clutched inside that bag with her after, presumably, ensuring the message she'd read was the first thing she'd find.

But who?The pain in her head made her want to throw up. Who would do this to me? She pulled in a shaky breath. If only I had my phone, I could—

The sound of heavy footsteps snapping twigs behind her punctured the raging questions in her mind.

Someone was walking in the woods.

In a flash, her spiraling thoughts registered what that meant. Either she was the luckiest woman in the world who, after waking up in dismay, was about to be found by a helpful passerby. Or—her heart skipped a beat as she stumbled upon what the other option was—or someone who knew that a woman had been dumped in the woods was on the lookout for her.

Oh God.

Fresh panic erupted in her chest, the apprehension spreading across her body until she could scarcely take another breath.

Pressing herself against the tree, she strained her senses to listen harder, her trepidation ratcheting up with every new crunch of leaves. Whoever it was, they were close. Close enough, she thought she could hear their breath as they neared.

For one protracted moment, she realized her fate. If the person approaching brought ill intent, there was nothing she could do. Bound at both her wrists and ankles, she'd struggle to even get to her feet, let alone make a run for it. She was a literal sitting duck.

I could call out.

Her throat dried at the prospect. Shouting for aid would alert the newcomer to her presence, which would either be the best thing that had happened to her since she'd woken up or the start of an entirely new nightmare.

But what choice did she have? Without help, she'd struggle to break free of the ropes and would be stuck there on the cold, hard earth without so much as a drink.

She had to do something.

She had to take a leap of faith.

Whichever choice she opted for, she only had seconds to choose. If she kept her mouth closed, there was a chance, although albeit a slim one, that whoever approached might pass her by and fail to notice her. But if they did, they left her without means of escape, vulnerable to both the elements and whatever wildlife might frequent the area.

But if she spoke up, she ran the risk that whoever was there meant her harm. She was between the devil and the deep blue sea.

I have to call out. Her hands trembled as she grasped the unknown device between them. The thud of footsteps sounded as though the passerby was right behind her. I have to hope it's someone who can help me. The monologue played through her head as, holding her breath, she braced for whatever was to come. They could cut her loose and call the authorities. It's my only hope.

"Hello?" She hardly recognized her own voice as it carried beyond the thick girth of the tree. "Can you help me?"

The footsteps stopped, their absence reverberating a sudden cruel silence.

"H-hello?" Her voice broke as she forced herself to speak. "Can you help me?"

"Ella." The deep, gravelly voice of a man resounded through the leaves, although she didn't see its owner at first.

He knows my name!Fear furled in her stomach, knotting as she grappled to rationalize how that was possible. Who is he, and how does he know who I am?

One thing seemed certain, though—no innocuous stranger would have been able to identify her.

"Who are you?" Twisting in the direction of his voice, she wrestled down her terror. "How do you know me?"

One long stride presented an answer to her initial inquiry at least. The footsteps belonged to a giant of a man, his towering presence all the starker compared to her own cowered form.

For one lengthy moment, they only stared at one another. His dark eyes pierced her with an angry intensity as she grappled for what to do next.

"You're Ella." He spat out her name as though it left a nasty taste in his mouth.

"Y-yes," she stammered.

Who was this guy? She didn't have to be an expert in behavioral psychology to ascertain that whatever he was there for, it didn't bode well for her. His clenched fists and stiffened jaw conveyed how little patience he seemed to have.

"What do you want with me?" Her question hung in the air as, slowly, he lowered and crouched before her.

"You're mine, Ella Bennett." His gaze narrowed as it fell over her sleeping bag. "You're coming with me."