The rope stretched between my cuffed hands and Viggo’s hand like a leash as we walked. Sweat poured down my skin in rivulets, and I was practically gasping for air as he marched me through The Green like a dog. Samuel gave a yip, bounding between us, reminding me that I was being treated worse than a dog.

Suddenly furious, I gave a vicious tug of the rope. Viggo’s grip was strong, so I barely moved his arm from where he clutched it. He turned, and from under his mask I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. For a second, I wanted to punch him in that exact spot.

Since slipping the handcuffs on me, Viggo hadn’t said two words to me. Oh, I had struggled after he put the cuffs on me. I had tried to run, tried to fight, but I was still weak from the venom that had laid me out. There was no way I was getting away from him in this condition.

I was still baffled by his sudden change in demeanor. He had seemed to be listening to me as I told my story. I tried to keep it short and succinct, and he had still arrested me! He was still dragging me back to Patrus, where a noose would be waiting for me in the public gallows.

I was struck by how unfair the situation was. That feeling had intensified as the day went on, until I was practically seething with rage, like a teapot about to blow. I wondered if I had been a man, if Viggo would believe me. I dismissed the thought as soon as it came to me. The only reason Viggo was so mad was because I had kissed him.

Viggo tugged the rope, urging me to move. Defiantly, I tugged it back, my limbs shaking from the exertion from walking for the last two hours. Samuel ran through my legs and then lay down, panting, his eyes on Viggo.

Viggo took a long, hard look at us. Spitting out a curse, he walked the distance between us, pulling something out of his pocket and thrusting it into my hands. Looking down, I saw the canteen. Parched, I opened it. It was hard with my hands bound together, but I managed. Then, as I lifted the canteen up, I realized that it was next to impossible to take off my mask. If I did it while holding the canteen, all the water would spill out of it. If I did it with the canteen closed, I would be holding my breath for a long time in a toxic atmosphere.

Frowning, I looked at Viggo. I was going to have to ask him to help me and I really didn’t want to. My pride wouldn’t allow it—especially since he was acting like a domineering and arrogant… well… Patrian.

Defiantly, I replaced the cap, and tossed it back to him. He caught it out of the air deftly, frowning at me. I gave him my best rebellious face, even though my throat was desperate for water. He shrugged and began walking again.

This was the extent of our communication. He tugged the rope and I staggered on, cursing myself and him for being idiots.

I needed the water if I was going to get away from him. I needed to keep my strength up. Not taking it was only hurting me, not him.

Get it together, Vi, I told myself as I stepped over a log.

The wound on my leg twitched as I stretched too far to get over the log, and I gave an involuntary gasp at the twinge of pain as I felt the skin stretch under the bandage.

Viggo was immediately there, his green eyes blazing behind the clear plastic of his mask.

“What happened?” he demanded, his hands reaching out to steady me.

I gaped at him, as he uttered the first words he’d spoken to me for hours. It was tempting to ignore him like he’d been ignoring me, but I was too concerned about my wound. I put aside my pride.

“My leg, I might have…”

He immediately reached down and started unbuttoning my pants. Eyes wide, I jerked back out of his hands.

“What are you doing?”

Viggo gave a sigh, like his patience was being tried. “It’s not exactly the time to be prudish. I need to see your thigh. That means the pants come down.”

It was irrational, I knew, but I did not want Viggo taking my pants off. The fact that he had already done so while I was unconscious was upsetting. The logical part of my brain knew that it needed to be done, but the emotional part was unwilling to bend.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. Viggo’s face grew determined, and I took another step back. “Viggo, I said no.”

He advanced, his face a mask of grim determination. My heart started to pound as he stalked toward me like a predator. I knew I should be afraid, but the sight of him moving toward me like that made me feel… excited.

That scared me more than anything.

Without meaning to, I held up my hands to fend him off, turning my face away. “Please Viggo,” I said, my voice coming out high-pitched and shaky. Samuel suddenly appeared between us, his fur on end and a growl trickling between his lips.

He stopped a few feet away from me. I risked a glance at him, and I saw him looking down at the dog, and then his clenched hands. He looked up at me, and I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. I was trembling, unwanted tears forming in my eyes.

Viggo’s face softened—that was the only way I could describe it. It was like watching a massive storm melt away into a beautiful sunset.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” he said, his voice thick. “I shouldn’t have…”

I nodded, unable to force words out of the huge lump in my throat.

He took a step closer, his hands up with palms out. “I really do need to check your wound,” he said carefully, his voice calm and even. For a moment, I wondered if this was how humans sounded to wounded animals, until I remembered, I was a wounded animal.

I exhaled sharply, and inhaled, remembering how the simple act of breathing had helped calm me for the past few days, and nodded to him.

He let me unbutton my own pants. It was difficult, but it gave me a sense of control over the situation. Then he helped me slip them over my hip, pulling them down to the wound on my thigh. He went to one knee, examining the bandage, his fingers pressing on the edge to make sure it was still sealed.

There was something intimate about him being down there, his face inches away from my thigh, but I pushed it aside. I fixed my eyes on anything else. Samuel came up from the other side, and I reached down to pet him. It was awkward, but it kept me from seeing how exposed and vulnerable I was to Viggo.

He inspected the bandage for a few more seconds, and then helped me slip my pants on. All and all, the inspection lasted less than two minutes. It had felt like longer. I was allowed to button my pants back up, and re-tie my makeshift knot.

We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds longer and then Viggo handed me the canteen. I looked at him, but there was no challenge in his eyes. I opened the canteen, and when I wordlessly nodded that I was ready, he lifted the mask off my face. I drank the water quickly, trying not to breathe too much. Once I was finished, he replaced the mask and I closed the canteen, handing it back to him.

He removed his own mask and took a long swig, and then poured some in his cupped hand, offering it to Samuel. After our water break was finished, he straightened up.

“C’mon,” he muttered, picking up the rope from where he had dropped it on the ground. “We need to keep moving.”

I frowned, but started walking behind him. As we walked, my mind churned over what to do with Viggo. I had tried for honesty, but it was clear he didn’t believe me. But then he had shown genuine care for me.

His behavior was contradictory and confusing, and it was very frustrating to try to understand, especially since he wasn’t talking to me. The truth was that I was angry. Furious really. I had never expected to see Viggo again, but now that he was here, with the truth in front of him… I didn’t even know what he was thinking.

I’d taken all that I could stand. I planted my feet and stopped as we neared the slope of a dip in the forest. Viggo didn’t notice my pause, initially, until the rope swinging between us pulled taut. I held my ground, pulling back against it. He spun, irritation across his features.

“Why are you stopping?” he demanded.

“I want to talk,” I replied in a manner that I hoped sounded calm and collected.

“You’ve said enough, Violet.”

“I’ve only told you the truth, Viggo.”

He rolled his eyes and closed the distance between us until he was looming over me. I kept my face expressionless, which was hard considering how imposing his size really was.

“The truth,” he said mockingly. “And what am I supposed to believe? The crazy story that Lee betrayed his country even though he had no reason to?"

“You read his letter—”

“Or a girl who’s a criminal? Who betrayed me!?” he barreled on, his face in a sneer. “Which one is more believable to you, Violet? What is the more likely scenario?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You arrogant, egotistical, misogynistic… Patrian,” I spat. “Trained to believe that every word coming out of a woman’s mouth is a lie or a manipulation.”

“This has nothing to do with the fact you are a woman…”

“Oh, doesn’t it?” I breathed out sharply. “What are you really mad about, Viggo—that I wasn’t who I said I was, or that I kissed you?”

A muscle in his jaw started ticking, and I watched his green eyes becoming hard and dangerous.

“I’m so glad you brought up that kiss,” he said, his voice low and bordering on menacing. “Because I was wondering about that.” I froze, my heart palpitating in anticipation. “I was wondering how a woman got so cold that she could kiss a man the night before she planned to lure him to his death. Did you kiss Lee like that?”

An icy anger throbbed through my veins, and before I could stop myself, my foot contacted with Viggo’s knee. He wasn’t expecting that, and he was forced backward, dipping toward the slope.

I turned to run, when his strong arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me with him in a fall. The next thing I knew, we were rolling over the edge, a tangle of limbs. His arm was like a vice around my stomach as we bounced down the hill, until we rolled to a stop.

I scrambled to my feet, feeling jostled and confused. Viggo seemed worse, struggling to his hands and feet, his back to me. Without hesitating, I leapt on his back, slipping my bound wrists over his head and wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing. He made a surprised sound, his hands going over my forearms to try and pull me off. I had leverage though, and the superior position.

Viggo tried to jerk me over his shoulder, but I wrapped my legs around him, holding firm. I was careful not to choke off all his air—I was angry, yes, but I didn’t want to hurt him.

It turned out that was a mistake on my part. He managed to work a few fingers under my arm, and, in a feat of incredible strength, he pulled my arm straight out. I released one leg I had wrapped around his waist, and planted it in the back of his knee. He buckled, dropping down.

Viggo managed to pull me around to the front of him, using my freed limbs as an opportunity to unbalance me. He used his moment to try to push me into the ground, but I rolled with it, curling my back and using my knees to push his weight over mine. I landed on top of him, my hands trapped behind his head, his body under my body.

We paused there for a moment, staring at each other, when Viggo reached up, grabbing me gently by the back of the neck, and pulling me flat against his chest. His other arm wrapped around the back of my shoulders, and I felt his chest rise in a deep, heaving sigh.

“I missed you, Violet,” he breathed, holding me closer.

“I missed you too,” I admitted, savoring the feel of his arms around me. I pulled away, looking him desperately in the eye. “Viggo, please. You have to believe me. I didn’t kiss you because it was part of the plan. I kissed you because I… I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed you because I wanted to. I didn’t want to carry out Lee’s plan. He gave me this pill, and it made it so I couldn’t feel anything.”

“It’s times like this that I really hate these masks,” he muttered.

I looked at him inquisitively.

“I could kiss you to shut you up,” he added with a small grin.

I smiled, but it was bittersweet. “Do you believe me?”

Viggo gave a heaving sigh, his chest contracting under me so I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, where our torsos touched. He reached up, moving a lock of my hair off the visor. “We should go,” he said, avoiding my question. But I could see it in his eyes, the suspicion that I was playing him.

I sighed and placed my head against his chest, wishing that I could do something to make him believe me.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked.

There was a long pause. “You have to go back, Violet. There’s no other way.”

I sat up, shaking my head. “They’ll kill me,” I whispered as I pulled my cuffed hands from behind his head.

He reached up and held my face, or rather the helmet. “I’ll protect you,” he whispered, his eyes sincere.

I shook my head at him, tears pricking at my eyes. “You can’t. You couldn’t even protect your wife.” I flinched as I said it, but now was not the time to mince words.

Viggo flinched too, and I hated myself for even saying those words, no matter how honest they were. But I could see it in his eyes—as much as he wanted to believe he could keep me safe, the truth was that neither of us could control what would happen if we returned to our homelands.

Viggo opened his mouth to reply, when something grabbed me, yanking me off him and into the air.