Not that she was about to forgive and forget, she fiercely assured herself.
Fool her once, shame on him. Fool her twice . . . blah, blah, blah.
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have been left here to rot,” she pointed out.
“I’ve spent the past hours unconscious in my lair. Not that it would have mattered.” His voice thickened with anger. “I was chained to my bed.”
Was he serious?
Who would chain a clan chief to his bed?
“By your own people?” she asked in disbelief.
“My clan believes my mind has been clouded by a spell,” he said, his eyes flaring with silver fire. “They’re determined to protect me.”
“By torturing me?”
“God.” Without warning his arms wrapped around her, hauling her into his lap as he buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I never, ever wanted you hurt.”
She didn’t try to fight her way out of his arms.
She told herself it was because it would be a wasted effort. Even though she could sense he was weakened, she still had no chance of overpowering him.
But, that didn’t explain why she leaned into his embrace. Or why she absorbed the scent of sexy male and raw power as if it were necessary to her very survival.
It was the shower of dust from the ceiling that alerted her to the potential danger.
“Roke,” she murmured, tilting her head back to watch the crack in the stone above her head widen another inch beneath the force of his emotions.
“Shh.” His lips pressed to the sensitive skin of her throat, his fangs fully extended. “Let me hold you.”
“The ceiling—”
“I know,” he muttered, still holding her hard against his body. “I’m trying.”
“Perhaps we should finish this later?” Levet’s voice echoed from the tunnel.
At last Roke lifted his head, his face grim. “Is someone coming?”
“They are entering the caves above us,” the gargoyle warned.
Sally went rigid, her heart lodged in her throat as Roke cupped her chin in his hand and studied her frightened expression.
“Will you trust me?” he asked softly. His brows drew together as she hesitated. “Sally?”
She gave a grudging nod.
Beneath her lingering hurt, she knew that Roke had never meant for her to be caged and tortured. If she hadn’t been beaten and starved and imprisoned in the dark, she wouldn’t have given Zoe’s poisonous words a second thought.
But she was still angry that she’d once again been treated like a piece of worthless trash. And, if she were completely honest with herself, hurt by the undeniable proof that Roke’s clan would never, ever accept her as his mate.
Why she would care wasn’t something she was going to dwell on.
“Only until we get out of here,” she muttered.
“Fair enough,” he breathed, reaching for the music box that was set on the mattress beside her. Pressing it into her hand, he gently pulled her to her feet.
In silence they moved out of the cell, Roke tugging her toward a narrow slit in the stone wall that barely looked big enough to squeeze through.
Holding her breath, she fought to keep the blanket wrapped around her body as she wiggled through the opening, relieved when it widened into a passageway leading away from the cavern.
She took a step forward only to be halted when Roke laid a hand on her bare arm.
“Wait.”
She watched in puzzlement as Roke turned back toward the opening, his face hard with concentration.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure we can’t be followed.”
There was the sound of claws scraping against stone before Levet was squirming through the narrow crack.
“Hey, wait for me.”
“Great,” Roke muttered, grabbing one of Levet’s stunted horns to shove him out of the way. “Stay behind me.”
The temperature dropped as Roke released his powers, the earth shaking beneath Sally’s feet as the section of the ceiling abruptly collapsed to block the opening.
Blessed goddess.
Sally coughed at the cloud of dust as Levet gave a squeak of alarm. Roke, however, calmly inspected his handiwork before turning to join them.
“That should keep them out,” he said, his eyes shimmering with a breathtaking silver glow as Levet abruptly formed a small ball of magical light.
“Where are we going?” Sally demanded, allowing Roke to lead them toward a fork in the passageway and down a path that looked like it’d been abandoned for years.
“This leads to the older mines,” he explained, his voice distracted as his gaze searched the darkness for unseen enemies. “There are a hundred tunnels; they can’t guard them all.”
It wasn’t actually a plan, but Sally didn’t have any better solution, so tugging the blanket up to her knees, she followed his swift pace. She was eager to put as much space between her and the approaching vampires as possible.
She wasn’t going back in that cell.
Period.
Levet brought up the rear, his light bouncing off the jagged walls of the tunnel, and his low grumbles providing a welcome distraction for Sally.
Roke didn’t seem nearly as appreciative, occasionally tossing a dark glower over his shoulder. Thankfully for the health of the tiny gargoyle, the tunnel began to angle upward, branching into a dozen smaller passages that demanded Roke’s full attention.
Nearly half an hour later they reached the mouth of the mine, stepping into a wooden building filled with long-forgotten mining equipment.
“Wait here,” Roke muttered, silently gliding across the floor to peer out a busted window.
“Well?” Sally prompted when his hands clenched in obvious frustration.
“They’re spreading out,” he admitted, turning to meet her anxious gaze. “We’re going to have to make a run for it.”
Her mouth went dry, her palms damp at the very real fear they were trapped.
“I can’t outrun vampires.”
Slowly he moved toward her, holding her gaze. “I can.”
“But . . .” Her words ended in a gasp as he reached down to scoop her off her feet, cradling her against his chest. She instinctively pressed a hand against his chest as the other kept the blanket in place. “No.”
His dark face was unreadable, but she could feel the urgency that thundered through his body.
“Sally, let me help you. I . . .” He struggled to speak, his regret at having failed her a tangible force. “I need this.”