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“I know.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know that too.”

“Then why didn’t you?”Her voice rises, desperate now.“Why not tell me the truth from the start?”

“Because I was scared,” I say.“Scared you’d run.Scared I’d lose you before I ever had the chance to know you.”

Silence.

She’s breathing hard.I can smell her fear.Her fury.But I also feel something else.The bond.It’s faint and shaky, but it's still there.

“I need air,” she says, standing.Her knees wobble.

I rise with her.“You can step outside.The courtyard is secure.I’ll stay back and give you space.”

She nods once, too numb to argue.She walks out the door, barefoot and unsteady, and I let her go.But I don’t stop watching.Because I told her the truth.

And now, everything depends on what she does next.

Chapter Nine

Harlow

Safe Isn’t Freedom

There’s a lush fieldbeyond the concrete patio, large enough for an Olympic-sized pool.The lawn is bordered by towering trees and forest foliage so cleanly cut away it almost doesn’t look natural, and in the dark of whatever late-night hour it is, most people would probably miss the actual privacy wall and portion of black iron gate that’s visible from my angle.But I don’t.

The sight of the dual barricades only drives home the terror clamping hard inside my chest.

My head still feels a little woozy, probably from where my stupid ankle inevitably gave out, and I kissed the dirt during my panicked run.So a lot of what happened after seems jumbled.I can’t straighten out the things I heard and the order of events with absolute certainty, other than that I was rescued by a fierce and wildly stunning redhead I don’t know.Then, brought by what felt like a miracle, to Mateo.

He lied to me.

He told me I was safe.He told me I was free to leave.Then he told me I was trapped.