His Bounty

chapter two: shadows

The forest closed in around me as I navigated through the underbrush, my heart racing with each careful step. The night was alive with sounds—the rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, and the steady rhythm of Arthur's pursuit echoing behind me. I could feel the weight of his gaze, a palpable force pressing against my back, urging me to run faster.

I was not just trying to escape; I was determined to outsmart him. Every instinct in me screamed to keep moving, to stay one step ahead. I darted around trees, ducking under low-hanging branches, my mind racing as I considered my options. But every time I glanced back, there he was, a dark silhouette against the moonlight, moving with a grace and power that sent shivers of both fear and excitement down my spine.

Arthur Morgan was not just any bounty hunter. He had a presence that demanded attention. His broad shoulders were framed by the pale light, muscles taut beneath his weathered shirt as he pushed through the undergrowth. I could see the way he moved—confident, calculated, like a predator tracking its prey. Even from a distance, I could feel the strength in him, the kind of strength that promised danger but also protection.

"Why do you keep running?" he called, his voice steady and low. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

I could hear the frustration mixed with a hint of curiosity in his tone. It was almost charming, the way he tried to sound calm while he chased me, but I wasn't about to let myself be caught that easily.

"Easy for you to say!" I shot back, glancing over my shoulder. "You're the one with a wanted poster, not me!"

As I turned to dart to the right, I miscalculated and stumbled, catching my foot on a root. I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from my lungs. Panic surged through me, and I scrambled to my feet, but I knew he was close now. I could hear him breaking through the underbrush, his footsteps heavy and purposeful.

When I finally glanced back, our eyes met. It was as if the world around us fell away, leaving just the two of us suspended in time. Arthur stood there, silhouetted by the moonlight, a rugged figure carved from shadow and strength. His jaw was set, determination etched on his features, and I could see the way his muscles flexed as he prepared to move again.

In that moment, something shifted in me. I wasn't just running from him; I was drawn to him. There was an intensity in his gaze that spoke of ambition and desire—desire not just for the bounty on my head, but perhaps for the chase itself, for the thrill of the unknown.

"You're quick," he acknowledged, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But I'm not just any bounty hunter."

"Yeah, I've heard the stories," I replied, trying to sound braver than I felt. "You've caught tougher prey than me."

A faint smile ghosted across his lips, a flash of white in the darkness. "Maybe you're tougher than you think."

With that, he lunged forward, and instinct kicked in. I spun away, barely dodging his grasp. But the brush of his fingers against my arm sent a jolt through me—a mix of fear and something else I didn't want to acknowledge. I was more than just a bounty to him; I was a challenge, a game that ignited something wild inside him.

I zigzagged through the trees, using my knowledge of the forest to my advantage. But no matter how fast I ran, I could feel him gaining on me. It was exhilarating and terrifying, knowing he was out there, a powerful force pursuing me with determination.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats echoed nearby, and I realized I wasn't the only one in danger. The rival bounty hunters were closing in, their voices rising in the distance. My heart raced as I pushed myself harder, darting between trees, desperate to escape both them and the man who seemed to want to claim me as his own.

But just as I thought I'd lost Arthur, I felt a firm grip on my arm, yanking me back into the shadows. I gasped as I collided with his chest, the heat radiating from him overwhelming. His grip was strong, yet there was a gentleness in the way he held me, as if he were torn between his duty and an instinct to protect.

"Stay quiet," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear, sending another shiver through me. "They're close."

We stood there, hidden together in the darkness, my pulse racing as I felt the strength of his body pressed against mine. The moment stretched out, filled with tension and unspoken words. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the steadiness of his breath contrasting with my frantic heartbeat.

In that moment, as the danger loomed, I realized something unsettling: perhaps being his bounty wasn't the worst fate after all.