BRIELLE TAKES OFF. Drops her pack and starts running, without a word. Warden glances at Brandon, and Brandon and Evan launch themselves after her, blowing past Dawn like she isn’t even there, looking like a couple of hyenas chasing down lunch.

Warden doesn’t move, and neither does Dawn. Neither does Kyla for that matter, but Dawn isn’t worried about her, not just yet.

She’s just hoping that Brielle can get away.

Warden studies Dawn and looks pleased with himself. “We spotted you coming,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder up the ridge to the northwest, the way they’ve come down. “A long way back.”

Dawn wishes she could smack the cocky grin right off his face, but she doesn’t bother to try.

“Found a nice hiding place,” Warden continues. “Then we retraced our steps a little bit, to confuse you.” He grins wider. “I guess it worked, huh?”

He takes a step toward her, then another. His eyes don’t leave hers, and the smirk on his face fades into something else. Something…remorseful.

“I wish you hadn’t run,” he tells her. “I really wish you hadn’t run, Dawn.”

He’s going to kill her.

A million cliché lines from a million cliché movies run through Dawn’s head.

(You’ll never get away with this.)

(You don’t have to do this.)

(Just let us go; we won’t tell on you.)

(I (*sob*) trusted you.)

(Whyyyy?)

But as exhausted and hopeless as Dawn is feeling, it’s not enough to send her into full cliché mode, not yet. She’s not going to fall for Warden’s charm, either, or wish things were different or even feel dumb about possibly falling for him. She’s not that girl anymore.

Those days are over.

Dawn looks at Warden and doesn’t even notice those green eyes or the obvious muscle beneath his jacket. She doesn’t see a busted love triangle when she sees him.

She sees an asshole.

She stands there and looks at him and doesn’t say anything, and just hopes that Brielle can get away.