28. Rork
28
RORK
S tupid, stupid girl.
I push my way through the dense underbrush, my jaw clenched and my heart pounding with a mixture of anger and anxiety. I can’t believe that Bianca actually had the audacity to run off into the woods like this, to think that she could somehow outrun me.
I snort in derision as I duck beneath a low-hanging branch, my eyes scanning the ground for any sign of her passing. I’ll bet she’s out there right now, crying on a log because she got a little dirt on her precious designer shoes.
The thought of it almost makes me laugh.
But as I press deeper into the forest, following the winding trail of her footprints, I feel my amusement giving way to a creeping sense of unease. The further I go, the less sense her tracks seem to make. They’re erratic, meandering, doubling back on themselves in a way that suggests she’s not just lost…
She’s completely turned around.
Fuck.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending a jolt of fear racing down my spine. If Bianca is lost out here, if she’s been wandering alone in these woods for God knows how long, then there’s no telling what might have happened to her.
My chest tightens with anxiety, my heart hammering against my ribs as I quicken my pace. I know these woods like the back of my hand. I know every hidden danger and animal that lurks within here. The thought of Bianca stumbling blindly into any one of them? It’s enough to make my blood turn to ice.
I try to push the fear aside, to focus on the task at hand and the burning anger that still simmers beneath the surface of my skin. As much as I’m worried about Bianca’s safety, as much as the thought of her coming to harm makes my stomach clench and my fists tighten, I can’t forget the reason I’m even out here in the first place.
She fucking ran from me.
And once I find her, she’s going to be punished.
But I can’t shake the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’m worried about her. I hate to admit it, but I’m worried about her in a way that I haven’t in a very long time.
If something has happened to her, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
As much as I want to get revenge on Nico, I don’t want Bianca to die. No, I don’t want that because…
Nope. I’m not letting my thoughts go in that direction. I need to find Bianca.
Picking up my pace, I race through the woods, my heart pounding and my breath coming in ragged gasps as twigs and branches snap beneath me. But then I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold.
It’s a scream, high-pitched and terrified, echoing through the trees like a siren’s call.
And I know with certainty that it’s Bianca.
I don’t hesitate. I wrench my knife from my pocket, the blade glinting in the dappled sunlight as I sprint in the direction of the sound. My mind is racing, a thousand terrible possibilities flashing through my thoughts like lightning.
But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greets me as I burst into the clearing.
Bianca is there, her back pressed against a towering oak tree, her eyes wide and her face pale with fear. And in front of her, its haunches quivering and its fangs bared…
Is a cougar.
For a moment, I’m frozen, my mind struggling to process the scene in front of me. Because Bianca, my stubborn, defiant little wife…
She’s not running. She’s not screaming or cowering or begging for mercy.
No, the idiot girl is actually trying to fight the damn thing off.
She’s got a branch grasped in her violently shaking hands, and she’s swinging it back and forth in front of her like a sword, as if she actually thinks she can intimidate a huge mountain lion with a fucking stick .
I want to scream and grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, to demand what the hell she thinks she’s doing.
Is she crazy? Does she have a fucking death wish?
But even as the questions race through my mind, I can’t help but feel something like admiration, if it weren’t so thoroughly overshadowed by the sheer, blinding panic that’s coursing through my veins.
This damn girl’s got guts. She’s got a fire in her that refuses to be extinguished, even in the face of certain death. I respect that. I admire it, even if it terrifies me beyond words.
She could teach my men a thing or two about bravery.
But I don’t have time to dwell on that now because the cougar is relentless, its hunger driving it forward despite Bianca’s desperate attempts to fend it off. It creeps closer, its eyes locked on her as it snarls and swipes at her with its massive paw.
Bianca screams again, the sound piercing through the air. She swings her branch wildly, the wood connecting with the cougar’s face with a sickening crack.
The big cat rears back, shaking its head as if to clear the pain, but it doesn’t retreat. Instead, it crouches low, its muscles coiling as it prepares to spring.
And that’s when I act.
I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I just move, my body reacting on pure instinct as I race across the clearing toward the cougar.
I know I only have one chance, one moment to catch the beast off guard and end this before it can lay a claw on Bianca. I leap, my knife raised high as I aim for the soft meat of the cougar’s neck.
The blade sinks deep, and the cougar lets out a howl of rage and pain. But it’s not enough.
The cat whirls on me, its eyes blazing with a fury that makes the hairs at the back of my neck rise. Before I can jump back, it swipes at me with its claws, tearing through the flesh of my chest like paper.
I scream. The pain is hot and searing as the blood begins to flow, but I don’t have time to dwell on it because the cougar is coming for me again, its fangs bared and its muscles tensed for another attack.
“Bianca, run!” I shout, my voice raw with pain and desperation. “Get out of here, now !”
But she doesn’t move. She just stands there, her eyes wide and her face pale with terror, as if she’s frozen in place.
I want to scream at her, to grab her and shake her until she understands the danger she’s in, but I don’t have time because the cougar is on me again, its claws raking down my back as it tries to find purchase.
I twist and turn, my knife flashing in the dappled sunlight as I slash at its face and neck.
The cougar lunges at me, its powerful body slamming into mine with the force of a freight train. We tumble to the ground in a tangle of fur and flesh, the damp earth cushioning our fall even as the breath is knocked from my lungs.
The cat’s claws scrabble at my already injured chest, leaving searing trails of pain in their wake. Its jaws snap mere inches from my face, the stench of its hot breath filling my nostrils and making my stomach churn.
But even as I grapple with the beast and feel its weight pressing down on me, my mind is consumed with one thought.
Bianca. I have to save Bianca.
She’s the reason I’m out here, the reason I’m fighting for my life against a predator that outweighs me. And if I fail, if I let this fucking cat get the best of me…
She’s as good as dead.
The thought sends a surge of fury through my veins, a white-hot rage that gives me the strength to keep fighting even as my muscles scream in protest. I lash out again with my knife, the blade catching the cougar’s flank and drawing a gout of blood that splatters hot and sticky across my face.
The cat yowls in pain, but I don’t relent. I can’t. Because every second I keep this beast occupied is another second Bianca has to get away, to find safety in the dense undergrowth of the forest.
“Run, Bianca!” I scream again, hoping she’s actually listened to me.
My body moves on pure instinct as I twist and roll and strike with a ferocity that matches the cougar’s own.
The sound of our struggle fills the clearing, the snarls and grunts and heavy, panting breaths creating a savage symphony that echoes through the trees. The coppery scent of blood mingles with the musky odor of the cat’s fur, a sickening perfume that coats the back of my throat and makes my head spin.
But through all the pain and the fear and the desperate, clawing panic, I cling to one thought, one image that flashes through my mind like a beacon in the darkness.
Bianca’s face, her eyes wide and her lips parted in a silent scream of terror. The way she looked at me in that moment just before the cougar attacked, as if I were her only hope, her only chance at salvation.
And I’ll be damned if I let her down.
Gritting my teeth, I keep fighting, even as the cougar’s claws tear at my flesh and its fangs graze the skin on my throat. I pour every ounce of my strength and fury into the battle, my muscles burning and my lungs screaming for air.
And through it all, I hold onto one thought—one desperate plea that echoes through my mind.
Please, God. Let her be safe. Let her have gotten away.
Because if she hasn’t and is somehow here watching this, I don’t know if I’ll be able to save her.
And that thought, more than anything else, is what drives me to keep going. To keep fighting, even as the world begins to fade around the edges and the taste of blood fills my mouth.
I have to save her. I have to.
Even if it means sacrificing myself in the process.