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Back For Ever Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Map of the Willowhaven
  4. Map of Rosehill City
  5. Foreword
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. Epilogue
  62. Map of Rosehill City
  63. Also by Jenny Hickman

What a bloomin’ disaster. “Th-thank you for saving me.”

The man’s expression is as stony as ever, his eyes so solemn beneath the thick curtain of his lashes. “You should not be here.” His deep voice rumbles with the slightest hint of a lilting accent.

Wait. He just spoke to me. He speaks our language!

I knew his voice would be deep and rough. I bloody well knew it⁠—

Hold on. If he can speak our language, does that mean he understood everything I said Wednesday and chose not to respond?

How rude—not that I say that aloud considering he saved me from certain death.

Twice.

He blows out what sounds like a frustrated breath and props his hands on his hips. Suddenly, I’m very aware of every single hard line of his bare torso. His flat nipples, darker than the rest of him. His belly button amidst the ridges of his abdomen.

Stop staring at him, you loon!

You should not be here…

I force my gaze to meet his. “Is it illegal?”

His brow furrows as he shakes his head. “There is no law, but there are rules. And it is not safe for someone like you on this side of the canyon.”

Irritation flares in my chest, heating me all the way through. “Someone like me? And what, pray, do you mean by that?”

“Someone so…soft.”

“I am not soft.” I mean, compared to him maybe, but I’m stronger than I look.

He arches a dark brow.

I liked him better when he didn’t speak. “If it’s so unsafe, then what are you doing out here?”

“Hunting.”

“Without a shirt?” That doesn’t seem very safe or smart. “Don’t you get cold?”

He glances down at himself, as if he’s forgotten that his chest is bare. When he looks back at me, his eyes have narrowed. “No.”

“Not even in the winter?” I’d die without the heavy coat of furs that used to belong to my mother.

He shakes his head slowly.

Fascinating. Perhaps his skin is thicker than mine. If it wasn’t wildly inappropriate, I’d ask if I could touch him again. Purely for research purposes, not because I want to, because that would be foolish.

Nearly falling to my death aside, I am not a fool.

A fool would want to run her hands down the planes of his chest or drag her fingertips over the ripples of his stomach or trace the deep cut of his hips⁠—

But not me. Not at all.

The man stares at me as if I said all of that that aloud.