"What a Sneak."

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Dawson's P.O.V.

"Don't look at me like that," I grumbled as I tugged the girl to the center of the tent. I hated the way her big eyes warily watched me as if she expected me to strike her at any moment.

She stumbled along, nearly a full two feet shorter than I was. Her limbs were long but skinny, which didn't surprise me. None of these backcountry rebels were eating enough. Their food sources were limited out here, so they were all undernourished and sickly. It made it relatively easy to fight them off when they didn't have a chance to fight back.

What confused me, however, was why she was the only girl we had come across in the past two years.

Planting a hand on her shoulder, I firmly pressed down until her knees buckled. On the ground, she sat, looking as feisty and nervous as an abandoned kitten.

I shook my head as I told myself to stop comparing her to cute fucking animals. She was a spy, and she was on the wrong side of the war. She was anything but cute.

Retrieving a bit of thin rope from beneath my cot, I crouched behind her. I took hold of her wrists and arranged them behind her back, but she tugged hard and tried to free them from my grasp.

I tightened my grip.

"Knock it off," I ordered, jerking her slightly to emphasize my point. She stilled, and I neatly tied her wrists behind her. In any other setting, with any other girl, I would have taken great pleasure in the task. The current situation only made me more bitter, however.

Rising, I left her where she was and took a seat on my cot. I could still grab her if need be; she was within arms reach.

Leaning forward, I relaxed my elbows on top of my knees and clasped my hands. I studied her while she expertly avoided my gaze, looking literally everywhere else in the tent.

It annoyed me.

"Look at me."

She hesitated, but ultimately her eyes found their way to mine. I tilted my head as I studied her. Big brown eyes, long dark lashes, dark freckles beneath sun-kissed skin, chestnut hair that fell so freely and long down her back... It was dirty—all of her was, in fact—but she was painfully beautiful nonetheless.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" I finally asked. "I've been scouring these mountains for years, and I've only ever come across camps of unruly men. Hardly any women. So, why am I just finding one now?"

Her head cocked to the side, and she stared intently at my mouth as I spoke. She blinked several times in the silence following my question before eventually speaking.

"You never noticed us following you," she replied, her eyes finding mine. "So, you must not be as observant as you think."

My palm twitched.

"You have been following me?"

"Not alone."

"Who else then?" I sat forward and pulled the list of names from my back pocket. "Which one of these camps is yours?"

She spared the list a brief look before returning her attention to me. I waited for an answer or at least some bratty response, but she gave neither. She only looked at me as if she were just as curious about me as I was about her.

Sighing, I lowered my head and dragged a hand through my hair. I swallowed a groan at the shit situation the colonel put me in. There was no way I was going to get this girl to talk. All she would be is extra baggage that I couldn't afford to carry along.

"Listen," I growled, "this will go a lot easier if you just answer my questions. I'm not going to let you go, you need to understand that. There isn't a way out for you on this. So, it's best if you comply with—"

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