Prey [Ambassador's Pick ONC23]

12. Defeat

"I can't believe we're getting married." I gaze down at the ring on my finger in awe. It's perfect; an oval emerald in an antique silver setting.

Seth chuckles and places a soft kiss on my forehead. "Who do you want to call first?"

"No one just yet." Leaning my head against his shoulder, I let out a contented sigh, happier than I've ever been. The river flows prettily beneath us as we sail along with wine in our hands, beaming with the thought of an upcoming wedding. "Let's just enjoy this ourselves for a moment."

"If you insist. But your family is probably waiting to hear if you said yes or not. I asked for your dad's permission before we left."

"They know me well enough to know I would say yes," I counter. "And if I dared to say no, I don't think Marcus would ever forgive me."

"Of course he wouldn't. I'm a catch, Sadie," he teases. "You're lucky to have me."

"Is it too late to change my mind?"

"Yes." Seth pulls me closer, wrapping his arms tight around me as though he's afraid I'll disappear. "You're stuck with me forever now."

"I don't want to be stuck with you," I joke, half-heartedly attempting to pull away from him.

"I'm sorry baby. You don't have a choice."

My temple throbs and pounds as my eyes try to flutter open, blinking away the memory. Hard metal presses beneath my cheek, the coolness of it soothing the ache in my head slightly. My hair falls over my face, tickling my nose. I try to lift my hand and brush it away, but something holds my arms tightly behind my back.

The panic swells, coursing through my veins, as I realize that it's rope that locks my wrists into place. An attempt to kick confirms that my feet have been given the same treatment. I scream, the sound lost under the rumble of a loud engine.

The truck bed I've been thrown into bumps over the road, jolting my body painfully as it moves along. Each large rock beneath the speeding tires makes my cheek lift and land back down onto the cold metal, throwing me around like a sack of potatoes. A particularly big hump throws me upwards and I land painfully on my back and arms, my already aching head slapping painfully against the floor. But the pain pales in comparison to the grief that strikes my heart as I look to my left.

Right into Celia's cold and lifeless eyes, only just visible under the starry sky.

This time, the scream that tears through me drowns out the sound of the car. I scramble to get away from the body of my best friend, the rope around my wrists and ankles making it difficult to move. The confined space of the truck won't let me get far enough and I'm left looking at the halo of blond hair that frames Celia's face.

I face the sky instead, so I won't have to see her accusatory glare. Tears run down my temples as the car continues forward, driving me to my death. My eyes squeeze shut as I sob, trying to roll myself over so I can face the other way. It doesn't work and I'm left stuck, awkwardly lying, half on my bound arms and half on my back, with my head tilted upwards.

"I'm so sorry, Celia," I whisper. "I should have come back for you."

The truck's engine is my only response. Guilt and grief wrestle for the top spot in my emotions, far overtaking any fear I had previously felt. It seems pointless to be afraid anymore, knowing that my death is inevitable. There's no escape from the bindings on my limbs, and even if I did manage to break free, the poachers would undoubtedly find me again.

I'm not going to make it back to Marcus.

Worse still, he'll never know the truth of what happened to us. Our families will probably spend years wondering how we died. Even if they contacted Mrs. Henderson and found the lodge, the chances of our bodies still being there are slim to none. I wonder what the poachers will do with us. Feed us to the wildlife? Throw us in a watering hole? Bury us?