I'm not sure when exactly I drifted away, but my last memories were of Cephias withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean.

So much for no tasting.

I lay in bed, halfway between sleep and consciousness. Questions bounce around, denying me any hope of returning to my slumber.

Did our entanglement last night seal the deal? Did I prove to Cephias that our marriage can be both beneficial and enjoyable? Will he take me with him when the caravan leaves today?

I stretch my arms over my head as a yawn pulls my jaw wide. My lips smack and my eyes blink. I'm not sure how I look after all that happened, but I don't have time to freshen up. I need to convince Cephias to take me before the caravan leaves. They're leaving today, but I'm not sure when. Surely I still—

I turn to his side of the bed and find a mound of blankets. For a moment, I smile to myself, wondering what his sleeping face looks like.

With his eyes closed and their fiery glow hidden, will he look like any human man? Will the serious leader and deviously handsome dragon have drool collecting at the corner of his mouth? How wild is his hair in the morning after an evening of pleasure?

Eager to get my answers, I lift myself up so I can see his pillow.

But there is no head resting there. The lump I thought was his body was actually the covers bunched up from when he left the bed.

My breath catches and I swing around to face his windows. Heavy curtains cover most of them, but the morning light streaks in through the gaps.

I spring to my feet and hustle over to the nearest one. I rip the curtains open, only to turn away. The sun approaches midday, its light blinding against the freshly fallen snow.

With eyes adjusted, I look back out.

As lord of the castle, Cephias's bedroom sits high inside a tower, giving him a sweeping view of the mountainside. A forest of coniferous trees blanket the slope, their needles glittering with ice and sunlight. Delicate flakes still float through the air, casting a soft haze over what should be a beautiful, serene morning.

However, I can't drink in the vast splendor of this chilly world. I need to focus instead on the expansive patio outside the castle's main entrance. It's where they've been building the carts, and hopefully it's where they are currently filling them.

I spot a group of dragons stirring with activity. I draw closer to the frosted window and use my hand to clear away some of the fog obscuring my view.

The group below aren't bustling around with furs loaded in their arms. No, instead they wave goodbye to the departing group, already headed into the woods and down the mountainside.

"Shit!"

I race for the door, unconcerned with how my stockings bunch at my ankles or how my drawers appear to be missing completely. At least I still have my shift to guard my dignity.

Curses fly through my head, berating myself for sleeping in. I knew convincing Cephias was a long shot, but I thought I'd have some time in the morning to really sell my point. Now, I'm not even sure I'll have enough time to fall back on my original plan.

If they get too far ahead, I'll get lost in those woods—trapped with whatever terror Cephias warned me about.

I dash down the stairs toward my room. With everyone outside to say their goodbyes, the halls are vacant, and I don't meet a soul along the way.

Once in my room, I shove my mattress aside and withdraw the clothes and satchel I'd been hiding there. I put on layer after layer of clothes, which impedes my mobility. However, it won't matter how fast I can run if I end up freezing to death.

Bundled until only my eyes are visible, I hook my bag over my shoulder and return to the quiet halls of the castle. A quick glance finds the corridors clear of company, and I make a mad dash to the bottom floor.

I take the quickest route I've mapped in my head, and say some prayers that anyone I run into doesn't give me a second's thought now that Cephias granted me freedom.

I try to steady my breath, despite my rapid pace. I need to think and to assess the next steps.

As I understand it, the caravan will trade a portion of the furs with the villagers, as well as two hand carts. In exchange, they'll ask for a proper wagon and a couple of horses, which will make the two-week journey a lot easier.

This will take time, negotiating a trade and switching everything over to the wagon. Which will hopefully give me a chance to catch up.

I may recover from this.

I'm optimistic when I finally reach the entrance hall. Adrenaline pumps through me as I brace myself for the riskiest thing I've ever done. Or at least have willingly done. I suppose going toe to toe with a fire-breathing dragon is rather dangerous.

"Miss."

Jennit's greeting sends my heart into my throat and stumbles my feet.

She steps out of the shadows, her face lit by the two fireplaces warming their entrance hall. It's hard to see her clearly as she stands nearly a room's length away, but I don't see any malice darkening her soft features. Instead, fatigue and disappointment weigh her down.

"You should know that your plan is dangerous. The creatures on this mountaintop are vicious and you are not meant for the cold beyond these walls. I know you're free to go as you wish and that your intentions are good, but please miss, I beg you to reconsider."

Despite her clear preference for how this plays out, she isn't moving forward to stop me. So I continue on with hesitant steps.

"My lord asked that we keep you here until someone can escort you to the village. He respects your freedom, but fears for your safety."

I look between the young woman and the double doors separating me from my goal. I try to calculate the likelihood of beating her to the exit should she uphold her lord's request. Perhaps seeing the intense scrutiny on my face, she sighs and shakes her head.

"Remember, I owe you a favor for your hand in bringing Andre to me. If this is truly what you want, then I will not hinder you. Consider the debt repaid. If they find you alive, please say we never saw each other."

I want to tell her I have no intentions of dying in these woods, but I hold my tongue and instead offer her a grateful nod before sprinting out the doors.

The sunlight bounces off the blanket of snow, blinding me once again. I guard my eyes and blink away the dots as I adjust to the sudden flare of light.

With my vision recovered, I look to the ground, where booted feet and an indecipherable mess of tracks have disturbed the snow. Despite the muddle of movement, there's no doubt where I need to head. There's only one option for entering the forest. The thick wall of blue-green needles breaks apart some ways down the slope.

After putting distance between myself and the castle, the hand cart tracks find definition. The members of the caravan shift themselves into a single line to traverse the tight opening in the trees.

The snow will become lighter and lighter the further I delve into the woods, but I pray to the gods that the trail lasts long enough for me to catch sight of them in the distance. Once I spot them, I can tail them on my own.

I hike my bag up onto my shoulder and look deep into the dark belly of the forest.

"This is because you're stubborn, Cephias. I hope you know that."

I take a deep breath, and then run in.

The snow is gone before I know it, though ice clings to every surface. I keep my eyes downward, searching for the imprint of wheels—whether it be cracks in the ground's icy coating or lines crushed through a bed of fallen needles. The slope increases and soon the path is more a stair-stepped rock formation than battered dirt.

I hurry along, clinging to branches and fallen trees as I go. However, when I hear what sounds like a wooden wheel clattering against rock in the distance, my heart jumps and my head snaps up.

The sudden movement and my overeager feet land me on a weathered stone slick with ice. I look out through the trees, but my ankle rolls before I can determine if the sound was the caravan or an animal.

My balance is thrown, and I tumble to the side.

Unfortunately, it just so happens to be the side with a steep drop off the path.

I throw my hands out, but the thick cloak, hat, and scarves I've wrapped around my head hamper my vision. I don't know where to find an anchor and instead land on my wrist with a painful snap.

A scream tears from me and my body curls against the shockwave radiating from what I can only hope is a sprain. With my injured hand tucked into my stomach and the rest of me coiled over the top to protect it, I roll down the hill as easily as a child's ball. Rocks jab and tear at my clothes, but the many layers save me from enduring any terrible blows.

However, I can't say the same for the tree trunk I eventually collide with.

My manic descent down the mountainside ends against the base of a towering pine. My ribcage throbs from the impact, though I doubt it will be anything more than a bruise. Which is a blessing, considering the swelling ache ensnaring my wrist and ankle.

I spread out along the forest floor with a defeated groan. There's no way I'll find the caravan after that tumble, and my screeching will probably draw them straight to me, anyway.

For the second time today, I exhaust my library of curses, which includes damning several gods that have persistently failed me during these past few weeks.

I wonder how long it will take them to find me, I think to myself with a sigh that causes a painful cringe. Will Cephias personally haul me out of these woods?

I guess I can say goodbye to freedom after this. Fuck, none of this has gone to plan.

When I hear a deep growl, I realize just how very, very screwed I am.

My body stiffens, and my ears strain, hoping to find silence. A snarl answers, and there's no question about whether my frantic brain conjured up a new monstrosity. I am definitely not alone in the woods and the ragged breath of the creature grows closer and closer with each passing second.

The stench of wet fur and dried entrails assaults my nose, and I gag. The noise prompts a thundering roar that seals my eyes and curls me against the ground.

Breath comes in quick and shallow. My jaw tightens and my teeth hurt with the pressure. I feel the ground vibrating with the beast's steps and my imagination draws a terrifying monster to match the foul odor and deep snarls filling the air.

Then, for a moment, all is quiet.

I lie in utter stillness, afraid to even breathe.

Has the beast left? Did it hear something else to draw its attention? Or is it watching me, waiting to see my next move?

The uncertainty grates against my sanity and, after what feels like an immeasurable eternity, I dare to peel open my eyes and peek through a gap in my arm.

A set of pointed teeth stretch into an angry roar, and my scream joins in chorus.