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There was that tower. A safehouse used by the man Gideon had framed for his murders. It stood empty since that man—William—fled England. Gideon had been watching it from time to time to see if it was guarded by the Crown’s men or by the Brotherhood.

But it wasn’t.

It stood empty. Untouched.

Not too far from this place, but still far enough to reach on foot in one day.

Except Gideon feared they didn’t have a full day.

No matter where they went, he felt movement coming from every conceivable side of the forest.

They had been walking at a rapid pace for over an hour when he realized that they weren’t going to make it. He had miscalculated gravely.

The pursuit wasn’t coming from behind. It was coming from all sides.

He changed direction abruptly, circling wide through the forest, but the feeling only intensified.

Leila stumbled over a root and nearly fell.

He paused, senses straining. He could feel the eyes on them. Watching.

They were surrounded.

Trapped.

He could feel people closing in on them. The circle around them tightening.

He shook his head and turned to face her, grasping her by her upper arms.

“Was this your trap all along?” he asked in a furious whisper, but with each sentence, his voice grew louder. “Did you get what you wanted from me last night? Or was this all just emotional torture? Make me feel something for you, then betray me?”

“Gideon—” she began, but he cut her off.

“Or was the whole thing just a game? A distraction? Stall me long enough for your friends to get into position?”

“She be right proper at it, ain’t she?” a voice drawled from behind them, smooth and mocking.

Gideon immediately let go of her arms and spun around to see a man stepping out from behind a large oak, the barrel of a pistol aimed squarely at his heart.

The man was a thug, his beard thick, his appearance unkempt.

Gideon wasn’t surprised to see him. His heightened senses had been screaming for minutes now. He’d felt them closing in.

They were in the middle of an ambush.

There was no way to run. Nowhere to go.

He should never have lingered so long in one place.

But Leila had seemed so weak, so worn down from the fire. He’d let her rest.

He had wanted her to rest.

She’d made him stop. Made him care more about her comfort than their safety.

He’d been too lost in her to think clearly. Too consumed by desire and growing feelings to remember that survival always came first.

This morning, they should’ve been on the move.