CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE
Grabbing her clothes, she plunges underwater as deep as she can, holding her breath until her lungs burn. She presses herself against the rocky bottom, praying the water isn't clear enough for him to spot her.
"Little fae!" The thunderous voice echoes across the water, edged with something that might be panic.
Daela holds her breath until spots dance before her eyes. She hopes he'll think she's already escaped, that the missing clothes mean she's long gone.
"Daela!" Drakar's roar is furious this time, the sound vibrating through the water and into her bones.
Then his voice starts to sound farther away, searching in the wrong direction.
Finally, blessed silence.
Daela bursts from the water, gasping and choking as she fills her burning lungs. She yanks on her wet clothes with shaking hands, not caring how they cling uncomfortably to her damp skin.
Then she runs.
Freedom. Imogen. Faelyn. The village. She cannot fail - she has everything to lose.
