When Milly lifted her head and swiveled her ears for the third time, I stood up. I wasn't sure what she was hearing, but this wasn't normal behavior for her, and sitting beside a creek wasn't where I wanted to be at the moment.

As I walked over, her ears twisted back, then she looked up. I followed her gaze, scrutinizing the shadowy bushes and trees along the top of the ridge. I didn't see anything unusual in the dim moonlight, but I was getting jumpy and picked up my pace.

Right as I turned my attention to Milly, movement had my head jerking back up to see a man quickly stand up on the ridge and wave his arms in a sharp gesture. The air between us hazed momentarily, and even as I took a step back, something cascaded over me. I stumbled backward and tried to yank the netting off, now recognizing it as a fish net.

The weights and excess netting tangled around my feet, tripping me. Several men began rappelling down ropes as I tore at the netting, trying to get it off. I staggered to my feet and lifted it higher to locate the edge. The net was big enough it pooled around me, and my attempts to pull it off only made it twist tighter.

The first two men had reached the ground – my time was running out. I kicked at the netting, desperately trying to find an edge. It wrapped around my leg, making me stagger, and sending me to my knees. I grabbed my dagger and frantically sawed at the numerous cords.

"It's a trap!" I called out, hoping Shane hadn't already stumbled into a similar scenario.

The men were almost upon me, and I knew I didn't have a chance of escaping. With the clarity of thought that transcended my panic, I pulled off the necklace Shane had given me and threw it into the creek.

I had hired him as a guide, not a bodyguard, and no guide out there would risk their lives for a trader, regardless of how much they were being paid. Shane already said he had no intentions of getting caught by a vengeance-seeking war party. Returning his necklace was my way of letting him know that I was freeing him from the contract.

I continued to desperately hack at the ropes, freeing my head and both arms before callused hands grasped my arms and ripped my dagger from me. I was pushed roughly to the ground and pinned against the rocks and grass.

As hard as it was, I let my body go limp, offering no fight. With no weapons and my legs still trapped in the netting, I didn't stand a chance against trained soldiers. Nor did I want the one carrying a short club to have a reason to knock me unconscious.

They cut my backpack off and checked my belt and pockets for weapons, finding none. When I didn't offer a struggle, most of the men turned their attention and weapons to the forest. Two remained kneeling by me, their hands resting on my back as a warning not to move.

I heeded the silent order and rested my head against the cool stones as despair rolled through me. Despite our best attempts, we had stumbled into a trap. I wasn't sure what was going to happen now, but I was dreading it. I fervently hoped Shane had evaded capture.

Horse hooves pounded across stone and dirt, rapidly approaching. As they got closer, a rider called out, "Light the lanterns and watch the forest! The werewolf clawed out of the netting!"

They had underestimated Shane's werewolf form. I sighed in relief, although I knew I wasn't going to be so fortunate. As I appraised my situation, a hard knot formed in my stomach.

There were at least a dozen men present now, and after spending two weeks trying to catch us, they weren't about to let me out of their sight. There was no chance of slipping away unnoticed or tricking them.

A short series of horn calls came from the ridge above as lanterns were lit and crossbows were pointed at the trees. More horns echoed from various locations downhill, proof that we had sprung a rather large and well-planned trap. Even if I had managed to get onto Milly's back, they would have easily intercepted us, assuming they didn't shoot her or me to ensure we didn't escape.

More horse hooves became audible, but I didn't dare turn my head to check how many had arrived. I tried counting them by sound alone, but there were too many to pick apart. Easily a dozen. Maybe double that.

The dull clack of expensive boots on stone approached at a measured pace. "Was she injured during the capture?" The refined accent and footwear identified the speaker as someone with notable rank.

"Nah. J'est quiet," one of the men kneeling beside me replied. "She only had a dagger on 'er, but didn't wield it like a fighter. Was easy to pin 'er."

Another man added, "The werewolf scouts ahead, then comes back for her. We got close while he was gone."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he's currently watching from a distance," the refined voice said. Something cold touched my neck as he called out, "Come out, wolf. Or she suffers the consequences of you hiding."

It didn't take a genius to know he was holding a sword against my neck. Taking a chance – and trying to prevent an injury – I quietly said, "He was just a hired escort. With me trapped by a war party and the gold coin in my belt pouch now in your hands, he has no reason to remain."

The sword pressed into my neck harder. "Just an escort?"

"The tavern keeper in Dryden can confirm it. He was one of the few who escorted travelers over these mountains during the storm season, and he was the only one in the village at the time."

"And why did you keep running from my men?"

I kept my voice quiet and level. "A woman traveling home has many reasons to avoid boisterous fighters, especially in a war-torn kingdom."

"You'll soon wish those men had been your only worry, but I'm not the one who gets to decide the fine details. Get on your feet."

I cautiously raised my head and sat up when the restraining hands left my back. The two men who'd been kneeling beside me stood up and took several steps back, their eyes never leaving me. The third man sheathed his sword and crossed his arms with a scowl. Recalling his exact instructions, I tried to stand, only for the netting to prevent it.

"Cut her loose," he ordered the men.

I sat still as their blades sawed through the netting in several places. When they stepped back, I freed my legs from the remaining strands and stood up, regarding the well-dressed man cautiously. His cloak and armor were far better than the other fighters surrounding us. If I had seen him in a town, I would have assumed he was a high-ranking warrior or a noble who actually knew his way around a sword.

The other two watching me didn't wear such regal armor, but their clothing was made from quality fabric, specifically designed to blend into the forest. These weren't average fighters, and I suspected they had been specifically chosen for their current tasks.

The rest of the men had formed a semi-circle around us, facing outward. Some held the reins of horses and mules – including Milly – while the rest of them pointed their weapons at the forest. There hadn't been many conversations while I'd been pinned, so they'd known exactly what to do. This trap had been carefully planned with seasoned soldiers carrying it out. Goosebumps prickled along my skin, hidden by my cloak.

I never had much to do with nobles or high-ranking warriors, but I knew enough to not stare openly or let my eyes flicker around in an obvious attempt to locate an escape route. Another man led two horses over, passing the reins to the two who'd pinned me.

My heart further sank when I noticed the double-seated saddle. The half-formed hope of them letting me ride Milly was dashed, even though I knew there was no chance of her pulling another racehorse stunt, not with so many crossbows present.

"Get up. And no funny business," one man said, bringing the horse closer.

Reluctantly, I stepped forward and grabbed the saddle horn before hoisting myself into the front seat. The man swung up behind me with the ease of practice, expertly holding the reins. The horse stood completely still. Its ears were perked back attentively, evidence of a highly trained animal.

My other watchdog got on his horse and lifted a small crossbow from the saddle horn, keeping a closer eye on me than the forest, but still alert.

The high-ranking warrior mounted a massive warhorse, telling the others, "Let's get back to the camp. Keep an eye out for that werewolf. It's bound to try something."

The group rearranged itself as those with horses formed a core group around the warrior and my two watchdogs. Those without horses circled them. Most of the men carried a crossbow, all of which were loaded and ready to fire.

The leader seemed convinced Shane would return, but even I could tell it would be a suicide mission. He'd probably hang around long enough to collect his necklace and then depart. He might linger on the slopes in case I escaped, but with the chances of that being so slim, I doubted I'd ever see him again.

The horses moved at a pace even slower than Milly's normal one, allowing the fighters on foot to keep up without becoming winded. The archers ceaselessly scanned the foliage with their bows as we descended the rest of the mountain, but there was no hint of my werewolf guide.

Deep inside, I was sad I didn't even get a parting farewell howl.