The thorny vine snapped tight around my arm, yanking me backward with a quite force. It wasn't that I enjoyed pain or anything—far from it—but the sting of the thorns digging into my skin felt oddly familiar.
Well, obviously knew who it was.
I'd felt her presence earlier, but I needed to speak with John first. Guess she didn't care about my priorities.
The vine tugged harder, lifting me clean off the ground before unceremoniously dropping me onto the cold, hard earth. My back hit first, followed by the back of my head, and I groaned under my breath. Maybe I should've resisted. Then again, maybe I deserved that. I had left her without saying a single word—even if the situation back then had given me no choice.
When I finally lifted my head, the first thing I saw was a long, graceful leg crossed over the other. The hem of her white dress brushed lightly against her knee, and just a few inches from my face was a foot clad in elegant sandals—Alvara's.
