She put on the rest of the clothes Nickolas had given her, her mind black and the motions of her hands mechanic. If she had stopped to look at it, she would have seen that the dress he'd given her was pretty in its simplicity. However, Cassandra noticed and saw nothing.

How could she have been so foolish, so blind? How could she have let herself fall in love with Nickolas? What had possessed her to fall in love in the first place? Wasn't she beyond such feelings?

Her problem, though, was that she'd been deep in the middle of loving him before she'd realized what was going on. By the time she'd finally realized what was going on, it was too late. She wished she could kick herself.

Crying out, she kicked her discarded pants across the floor. Anger boiled within her, and she scooped up her old shirt and threw it as hard as she could. By the time it had hit the cave wall and fallen to the floor, her anger had melted.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid girl." She pressed her knuckles into her eye, trying to keep the tears at back. "He'll take you back home soon, and that will be the end of it."

The words were meant to be a comfort, but they only proved to further upset her. The thought of sitting in that little cottage nestled in the moors was stifling. After all this freedom and the taste of a full life, returning felt like willingly going into a prison cell and throwing away the key.

Wiping away her tears, she sniffed. He would be waiting for her, and she couldn't just sit here having a pity party and endangering their lives. Likely, there would be more shooting and fighting before they reached the next destination Nickolas had in mind.

Straightening, she tugged out invisible wrinkles in her dress. She was an Antrucha, she reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time. Whatever feelings she had, she could and would shove them aside for the present. There were more pressing matters at hand, and she could face the truth any time.

With all the forgotten grace of a fine lady, she turned herself in the direction of the door and extinguished the last light. Complete darkness shrouded her, and she swallowed heavily, beginning to walk before she could convince herself that it was too dangerous. Without light, she moved slowly, haltingly, her fingers trailing on the cave wall until she knew she was out of the cavernous room and on her way to open, fresh air.

Once she got a whiff of the crisp outdoors, her pace quickened. She'd gotten used to the closed in space of the cave, and the scent of freedom was in the wind. Then she could see it: the green grass and scarce trees. Struggling not to run foolishly out into the open, she breathed heavily in quick relief. It was as though she'd been unconsciously holding her breath, and now, she gulped in the fresh air, cursing the constraints of her corset.

Stepping into the open air, she came face to face with a tall man with dark hair. Gasping she tried to move backwards, but he was too quick, snagging her elbow in an intro like grasp. Confusion flooded her world, and everything screeched into slow motion as she tried to wrap her mind around what was going on.

Across from her, she saw Nickolas's prone body, bound and gagged. There was blood on the side of his face, and his clothes were mussed from a struggle. The man holding onto her wasn't alone. There were three guarding Nickolas, and she could make out another in the brush.

Nickolas was jerked to a kneeling position, and she got a full look at his battered face. Blood was trickling from his nose, and his hair was matted to the side of his head where it looked like someone had clubbed him brutally. Blood from another injury rolled down his forehead and into one of his eyes.

Cassandra had never seen him so angry. His brows were drawn close together, but he was looking only at her. In the depths of his eyes, she saw a message more clear than if he'd shouted it to her, and her mouth went dry.

"Lookie here: we have ourselves the little princess." The man, who was holding her, was saying. "Won't Granger be please—"

She acted quickly. Jerking her leg up, she kneed him in his foolishly unguarded manhood. His grip loosened, and she wrenched herself free. Sounds of a struggle from the other side of the clearing told her that Nickolas was fighting, too, but she didn't stop to think about it. She ran.

Unsure what else to do, she took off into the cave. Running further into the open would do her no good. Their captors had much longer legs than she, and it would be a breeze to catch up to her and take her captive again. No, her only chance was the cave.

Even as terror gripped her when the darkness blinded her, she kept running. She tried not to think about getting lost in the cavernous darkness and wandering the clammy cave for the rest of her short life. Her imagination was vivid in painting the picture of her inevitable demise, but she forced herself to focus on her steps, shutting out the noise and clamor behind her.

She didn't know what struck her. Something hard pelted her from behind, and she became intimately acquainted with the stone floor of the cave. Pain blossomed in her body, and she heard herself cry out. Someone grabbed hold of her leg and began dragging her back the way she'd come.

Cassandra tried to turn over, to ease the scraping pain her captor was inflicting on her, but it was no use. The moment she tried to move, the man lashed out with his club, and she screamed in pain as the hit reopened the wounds Nickolas had just wrapped so carefully.

Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks, and the light momentarily blinded her. She was jerked to her feet, and before she realized what was happening, there was a knife at her throat, the sharp blade biting into her tender skin. She stopped any struggles immediately, going still in the man's arms, her eyes widening with terror.

"Enough!" The voice was loud in her ear, and she winced before she could stop herself. "Stop your fighting, Donahaven, or I'll slit her throat!"

"Ferris, you do that, and there'll be no rope strong enough to hold me back." Nickolas's voice was thick with threatening venom, but Cassandra watched Ferris's threat take all the fight out of him.

"Good boy." The words were spoken in a sickeningly sweet voice, as if Ferris were speaking to his favorite hound. "Now, tighten his ropes, boys."

As the other men moved to obey, Cassandra found Nickolas's eyes. For the first time since she'd met him, he looked uncertain, almost defeated. Terror filled her. If Nickolas didn't know what to do, they were sunk. There was no hope for them.

"What shall we do with this one, now?" Ferris shoved her away from him, causing her to trip and fall to the rough ground. "There are so many things we could do if only Granger didn't need her as leverage." He chuckled darkly, and fingers trailed up Cassandra's dress to her thighs.

In a flash, it wasn't Ferris's face or voice anymore. It was Robert Smithers, his fingers bruising her flesh, taking liberties. Cassandra flinched at the memories, and tears flooded her vision as she pulled away from him. He only laughed.

"I swear to God, Ferris, the moment I'm free, I'm going to rip your throat out." Nickolas growled just before they tied a gag in place again.

"I look forward to it." Ferris laughed again. "Tie her up."

Rough hands took hold of her, jerking her hands and feet together. The careless handling of the rope ended with her wrists and ankles being chafed and raw. They jerked her shoes off her feet with some claim that it would keep her from running away again.

When they'd finished, she was on her knees across from Nickolas. She could only imagine how she must look in his eyes: weak and foolish. She'd hardly gotten ten feet before they took her captive again. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping off her jaw, because she couldn't wipe them away. He just looked at her.

"You know what, after all this is done and Granger has no more use for her, I think I'll ask to have her to myself." Ferris gripped her face so tightly she wanted to cry out in pain, but she didn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, she glared up at him the best she could manage under the circumstance. "I haven't had a good whore to ride in a long time, and I think I'd enjoy this one." He looked her over approvingly. "Maybe I'll even let you watch, Donahaven."

Ferris shoved her again, and without her hands to save herself, she took the brunt of the fall on her face. She rolled awkwardly onto her side. Nickolas was doing nothing; there was nothing he could do. Despair, thick and dark, crushed her.

"Let's move out." Ferris shouted.

Trying not to let her fear show, Cassandra looked up at Nickolas and found his eyes on her. Behind his subdued manner, there was a fury she had never before encountered. In his eyes, though, when he looked at her, there was something so like remorse that she was dumbfounded.

He seemed to be telling her everything would be okay, but she knew better. He was only trying to make her feel better. They were going to be carted to hell's headquarters, and there was literally nothing they could do about it.

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AHHH! I know, I'm a terrible human for not updating sooner! Hopefully, you can find it within yourself to forgive me, however, when you hear that I have been spending pretty much every waking moment job hunting. Let me just tell you: it's the worst! Anyway, enough of that!

What did you guys think of this chapter? I know it's not the longest one, but you can expect the next couple to be a bit shorter. Sorry. I'm kinda working up to something here. . .hehehe. Ok, so they're definitely in trouble now but how much? Is Nickolas' resourcefulness at an end now?