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“What?” I took a step back, a move that didn’t escape his notice. “Why are you scared?”
    I tried to act nonchalant, even as I worried the sleeves of my sweater with my trembling fingers. “I’m not scared.”
    He took a step toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Then why are you shaking?”
    I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to act. I wanted to ask if it was true, if he was indeed a serial killer, but the coherent part of my brain said it would be a mistake to inform him I knew about the murders. “I’m not shaking,” I said, taking another step back. “I just remembered… I need to go into town.”
    “Right now?”
    I swallowed. “Yes.”
    He watched me for a long moment, his dark, intelligent eyes flying over my face. I stood in front of him, feeling vulnerable and nervous and, despite it all, still aroused. God, two days in the mountains and my insides were already a scrambled, irrational mess.
    His lips thinned. “You’re not coming back.”
    The little flicker of uncertainty in his eyes had me shaking my head truthfully.
    His breathing sped up as his hand fisted at his sides, but he said nothing. He didn’t ask me to stay, nor did he try to force my hand. It didn’t make sense, but then again, nothing did anymore.
    “I have to go.” I turned away before I could lose my resolve but, as I walked off, my foot caught on the curled edge of the rug and I stumbled. The last thing I remember were my hands reaching out to catch my fall and that blasted cheap coffee table rushing toward my face.
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    I opened my eyes with some difficulty, my head feeling sandwiched between two cement blocks. I blinked until my eyes adjusted to the dark, searching for the wood beams of my cabin but finding instead grey stone walls all around.
    I sucked in deep breaths, trying to stave off a panic attack, and sat up. I was on a bed nestled inside various mismatched blankets and quilts, in what appeared to be a room carved out of stone. The walls were jagged, the ceilings high and curved. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I was inside a cave.
    “You’re awake.”
    My gaze swung around to the room’s arched entrance as Alaric strode in, barefoot and shirtless as always, carrying a large mug. He came to a stop at the side of the bed and offered me the drink.
    I peered inside the chipped mug, wondering if poison had a distinct taste.
    “Tea,” he said.
    I sniffed the drink before taking a careful sip. Black tea with a bit of honey. “Thank you.”
    He reached out but stopped short of touching me. “How’s your head?”
    I rubbed the throbbing spot on my forehead and winced. “Like I got hit with a sledgehammer.”
    He reached into his pocket and held out a blue-green gel pill. I accepted it with some trepidation, taking note of the brand name imprinted on its side. I held it up to my mouth and pretended to swallow it. “What happened?” I asked, spitting the pill into the mug when he wasn’t looking.
    His brown eyes flicked warmly over my face. “You hit your head. I couldn’t wake you, so I carried you here to take care of you.”
    I glanced around again, my eyes finally adjusting to our dim surroundings. “Where is here exactly?”
    He held out his arms. “This is my home.”

6
    “ Y ou live in a cave ?”
    He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sagging from his weight. “Tourists used to come here, but the cave was closed after a few rock slides,” he said, his eyes bright. “I made my home here.”
    I looked through the doorway, wondering what else lay beyond. “How is it that nobody’s found you? Surely the park rangers would have looked in here.”
    A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s hidden behind a gap in the walls. You can’t see the entrance, you can only feel it.”
    I took another sip of tea, thoughts bouncing around in my head. Alaric swung his legs onto the mattress and settled in beside me, his large frame taking up nearly