More sand fell away from the thing, and with every additional fistful, the Mason’s strength drained away a little more.

Finally, Torr felt fallen leaves slide against his fingertips, and the Mason’s hold on him failed completely. The heavy body went still.

Torr pushed himself to his feet and wiped the sand from his eyes. As soon as he could see again, he saw the Mason’s crushed neck being rebuilt, one grain of sand after another.

He slammed his boot into the thing’s head, kicking it into a tree, where it burst into a shower of dust.

The rush of battle was still pulsing through his body with each beat of his heart. He’d destroyed three creatures in the last three minutes, but he wished there were more waiting for him to kill. An entire army would have been welcome, and perhaps even enough to quell his rage.

Grace had risked her life. Again.

How dare she? Did she have no idea how precious she was? How fragile?

When he was done with her she’d know. And she would never again even consider being so careless. He was going to make sure of it.

•   •   •

The man stalking toward Grace was not the one she’d thought she knew. This Torr was different. Furious. His amber eyes glowed with murderous intent.

Panic hit her hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her pulse kicked up, speeding so fast she could barely tell when one heartbeat stopped and the next started.

She slid the last few inches down the tree, wincing as the raw skin along her thighs rubbed across the bark. As soon as her feet hit solid ground, she started backing away, putting as many trees between her and him as she could.

It did no good. He was faster than she was, and he didn’t even look like he was exerting himself.

Maybe he was saving his strength for what he was going to do to her when he caught up with her. And he would catch up. She had no doubt how this would end.

At the last second, she couldn’t hold back the panic exploding in her chest—the need to turn and flee.

She now knew why she flinched when people moved too fast in her presence and why certain looks on the faces of others made her want to crawl into the smallest, darkest hiding space she could find. Her stepfather had taught her those behaviors, and while he was nowhere near her now, he’d left his mark.

And now the lessons he’d taught her took over, ripping rational thought away and forcing her to run.

She had made it only a few yards when her feet left the ground. Torr’s thick arms wrapped around her, pinning her against his chest.

Grace kicked him with every bit of strength she had. The move tore at her abraded skin, but she landed a couple of solid blows against his shins—hard enough that he let out a grunt of pain.

“Stop it,” he growled in her ear. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No, I’m going to hurt you if you don’t put me down.” Her words were too breathless to hold much force, but at least she was able to get them out.

“You need to stop. You’re bleeding. This is only making it worse.” His voice was calmer than she would have expected for a man who wanted to kill her. The shock of that helped snap her out of the need to run and never stop.

“Put me down!” This time her words were not breathless, flighty things. They had enough weight to make him listen.

“Are you going to run again?” he asked.

She didn’t dare struggle. This was her opening, and she wasn’t going to do anything to set him off again. “Are you going to keep looking at me like you’re going to kill me?”

He set her down, held her long enough for her to steady herself, then let go. She spun around to face him, ready to run again if that look of rage was still on his face.

She hated it that she was so ruled by panic, by something from so long ago, done to her by a man she could barely remember. But just because she hated it didn’t mean she wouldn’t respond to that blind panic in exactly the same way if provoked.

She shifted to put a thick tree between them, just in case.

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. His wide shoulders lifted several times as he pulled in a series of deep breaths.

Grace waited, torn between wanting to ease his obvious distress and wanting to run and hide.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said.

She wasn’t falling for it. “Words are easy. Apologies mean nothing coming from a man who knows he’ll hurt you again.”

He froze, then turned slowly to face her. The anguish in his expression was painful to witness. “I hurt you?”

Afraid that he would fall on his own sword if she said he had, she decided to tell the truth. “You scared me. That was bad enough.”

He swallowed twice before responding in a tone laced with tiny tremors of shame. “You scared me, too.”

She hadn’t been expecting that. “How? By running away from you?”

“You let that thing chase you. You drew it away. On purpose. It could have killed you.”

It would have. If it had been six inches taller, it would have been able to reach her in that tree, and she’d be the one lying in pieces on the ground instead of it. “It could have killed you, too.”

He scrubbed his face with one hand and sucked in a long breath. “I can take care of myself.”

Arrogance. “It was sneaking up on you.”

“I saw it.”

“So? You were already a little busy.”

“I’ve been fighting for centuries longer than you’ve been alive. I had time to do what needed to be done. You should have trusted me.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Well, don’t!” His shout was so loud that the leaves over her head shivered.

Grace backed away, unable to stand her ground in the face of so much rage. Her whole body was shaking now, and a chill took root just beneath her skin.

His gaze flicked down to her thighs, where she could feel a sticky film of blood from her scratches. His mouth hardened as he saw the damage. “Shit. I’m sorry, Grace. I’m scaring you again, aren’t I?”

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily frightened she was, so she pretended she was like Tori—impervious to fear and ruthless enough to know she could flatten him if he tried anything.

Her chin went up and it didn’t even wobble a little. That victory alone was enough to make her proud and to strengthen her resolve. “You’re not even the scariest thing that’s chased me today.”