Hollen the Soulless: A Fantasy Romance (Dokiri Brides Book 1)

by Denali Day

  Silence. Was she still breathing? “Joselyn?”

  “And then he claims someone else?”

  “No, Joselyn. He lives without a hamma.”

  That seemed to startle her. She pressed a hand into his chest and tilted her head backward to gaze at him. “Forever?”

  Hollen’s eyes brushed over every feature, committing them to memory. “Forever, mu hamma.”

  My only.

  Her lips parted on a little gasp. He held her gaze, absorbing every emotion that lingered there. Disbelief, shock, and…was that misery? Why? For him? She gave a pained little moan, and Hollen reminded himself not to pet at her face.

  “You are mine, mu hamma. As surely as I am yours. But I can’t keep you against your will. Eventually, the time will come when I…” He licked his lips. “When I must let you go.”

  Hollen’s insides felt like ice that had been thawed and refrozen too many times. Like at the slightest touch he might shatter.

  Joselyn’s fingers drew together over his chest. The tips of her nails skimmed the ridges of his idadi scars. His muscles tensed beneath her touch.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  Hollen’s heart raced. He’d known this question was coming. Still, he dreaded answering. “I thought that you would accept me sooner if you had no thought of leaving. That it would be easier.”

  “You would have told me eventually?”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Her gaze hardened. “Then who were you concerned with making things easier for?”

  The question hit him like a blow to the gut. He’d convinced himself that his secrecy was for her benefit. But after all that had happened and with his bride looking him in the eye, the truth was plain.

  He’d not been honest because he was afraid. Afraid that, knowing her options, she’d bide her time in Bedmeg whilst keeping him at arm’s length. That she’d count the hours until he was forced to let her go. That she’d leave him without ever having given him a chance. Even now, the thought sent sickening dread through his body.

  He’d been a coward. His eyes fell away from hers.

  Joselyn braced herself against his chest and pushed back to get a better look at him. He opened his arms and rearranged her across his lap. She let him, her limbs swaying like a doll’s might.

  When the slosh of the water had stilled, Joselyn spoke. “You thought you could force me to stay by making me believe I had no hope. By lying to me.”

  Hollen said nothing. He’d not precisely lied, but he wouldn’t raise a defense for himself. Not when so much of her pain rested on his shoulders. All he could do now was grasp at whatever shred of faith she might still have in him.

  “I would have told you.”

  The words barely left his lips before she answered. “When you had to.”

  Hollen swallowed and nodded. He’d spent his adult life waiting for his bride, imagining what it would be like to love someone and be loved in return. The images in his head had never seemed more naive than they did in this moment. Life wasn’t as simple as one of Magnus’ songs. Love didn’t come easily. Hollen was a fool and a cur to believe he could deceive his bride into offering it up.

  Joselyn pressed her head into the crook of his elbow. She regarded him with bitter understanding. “So this is why you haven’t touched me, then?”

  Hollen blinked. His head cocked in helpless confusion. What had she just asked?

  Joselyn’s level gaze remained cool. “Your oath not to force yourself upon me. You made it because I’m not really yours.”

  “You are mine, Joselyn. For now, you are mine.” His fists clenched beneath the water. He may not deserve her, but she was still his. No one would take her from him. Not yet.

  “But if you wanted to rape me? Like those men in the forest?”

  Hollen flinched. Had she truly just compared him to those rats? A lump hardened in his throat. “I could never do that.”

  “Because to do so would be against your laws?”

  His jaw fell open. “You think the reason I haven’t raped you is because of my people? Because I would be punished?”

  Joselyn nodded gravely. “Why else? What man would deny himself that right?”

  He huffed, too dumbfounded to be hurt. Was this what his bride expected of men where she came from? What kind of world had she been raised in?

  The kind where fathers sell their daughters to madmen.

  The more Hollen learned of Joselyn’s world, the more convinced he was that her people were the real savages. Had she been prepared to tolerate rape from Dante Viridian? His temper flared. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see the water boiling around him.

  “I made that oath because I could never do you harm. I could never force myself upon you, could never desire to.” Hollen worked to tamp down the fury in his voice. Didn’t she understand? Didn’t she know that he wanted her willing? Wanted her to need him the way he needed her, the way he craved her?

  Skepticism drew over her features. Or was it confusion? Hollen’s jaw clenched. If he had a soul, he’d have traded it to know what she was thinking just then. A ludicrous thought occurred to him. Did she think his restraint had been easy? A simple choice that, once made, he’d lightly put out of his mind?

  His body had burned for hers every night. It had been all he could do to lie in their bed, scorching beneath his lust, instead of tearing outside and plunging naked into the nearest snow bank. Every night he’d lain aching, wanting, needing.

  “Regna, Joselyn!” His words came out strained and breathy. “If I thought you wanted me, there’s not a thing in this world that could stop me from possessing you. All of you. Not your father, not my riders, and by the gods, not some tradition of my people.”

  It was the truth. If she but breathed the word, Hollen would bury himself so deep inside her they wouldn’t know where he ended and she began. He almost said as much, but he couldn’t bear the thought of frightening her. And the intensity of his desire should frighten her. It frightened him.

  Enveloped in his arms, Joselyn stared up at him. Her eyes were round and wondering. Even like this, she was so damned beautiful. Without thinking, he dropped his face low so his lips hung over hers. “The only thing stopping me from claiming your body, is you.”

  Her eyes dropped to his mouth. Hollen’s whole body tensed. Her lips parted, and he could practically feel her curiosity. Or was that his own?

  Taste her.

  She would be sweet. Hollen knew it. Her lips, though cracked, would melt around his like warmed honey. He’d imagined it a thousand times. Had nearly willed it into existence.

  Let her taste you.

  Yes. Show her the touch of a man who’d ask for nothing. Nothing except what he’d already sworn in equal measure. Of one who would lay down his life for her.

  Hollen pressed forward, closing the distance between their lips. Just as he would have touched her, Joselyn’s eyes snapped up to meet his half-lidded ones. He’d hoped to see his own desire mirrored there. The aching longing that was stealing the breath from his lungs. There was an echo of that passion, but it wasn’t pure, not refined by the flame of conviction. There was something else that danced more wildly in her gaze.

  Doubt.

  Hollen froze. If he spoke, if he breathed, if he did anything at all, he’d give in to the siren’s call. And so he waited. There was sheer agony in the time it took for her to finally pull away.

  Back off, Hollen.

  He forced himself to straighten. His breath had gone shaky. Now what?

  He didn’t want her to leave him, didn’t want to be alone on this mountain. It was enough to make him want to bind her within their bok and horde her away until they were both old and gray. And now Hollen had more reason than ever to prevent her from leaving. Now he knew what was waiting for her. Knew what sort of man Dante Viridian was. His jaw tightened.

  Eventually he’d have to let her go. He’d be damned before letting anything happen to her until then. Joselyn s
till needed him. For now, it was his right to keep her safe.

  “Mu hamma.”

  Joselyn returned her gaze to his. He sighed as he combed his fingers through the red locks floating in the water. He needed her attention for this. All of it. He brought out his Salig voice.

  “You will never leave me again.”

  “But you said—”

  “—When a year has passed, and the lowlands are again turning red, you’ll tell me if you still wish to return.” The words ground out of his mouth like jagged steel. “And if so . . .I will do my duty and return you to the plains.”

  Hollen didn’t want to imagine making good on that oath. Setting her on Jagomri’s back and flying her back to where he’d first seen her. Could he do it? Fly away knowing he would never see her again? Accept that she was somewhere else? In the arms of another man, a man who would crush her?

  Don’t let it come to that.

  He shook his head. “But you will not leave here alone as you did last night. Swear it to me, Joselyn. Swear to me and I will swear to you.”

  He wouldn’t let her sleep until she’d given her word. Waking in an empty bed had been terrible enough. Seeing her in that glade, her body pressed beneath a man with murder in his eyes, had maddened him. It wouldn’t happen again.

  With her eyes locked on his, Joselyn whispered, “I swear it.”

  Relief swept through him. Once she’d slept, really slept, he would make her vow it again. Weariness might rob her memory of such an oath, and he couldn’t hold her accountable for that.

  He touched his forehead to hers. It pleased him she didn’t flinch away, but that might have been weariness. “And I swear to you that while you are in my care, I shall never harm you nor allow anyone else to. You are mine, mu hamma. But you are free. When the time comes, you will make your choice.” He took a breath, shutting his eyes. “And we both must abide by it.”

  Joselyn’s gaze searched his.

  “What is it? What are you thinking?”

  She frowned. “Why are you doing this?”

  Hollen cocked his head, unsure what she meant. Joselyn swallowed hard, with her dry lips pressed together. “You know I must return. Why do you prolong our fates?”

  Hollen saw her misery. He’d seen that look before. Now he understood it. She didn’t want to return. She had no hope for a future with the Morhageese lord. No desire to be with him. And yet, she’d been willing to give all for her duty to a man who’d throw her away.

  A new emotion rose in Hollen. Pity. Tender sorrow for the love his bride was so desperate to earn from a man who obviously had none to give. Hollen thought back to their argument in the armory, remembered her glassy-eyed defiance as he’d shattered her world with a few knowing words. She’d stormed into the snow. Joselyn, his indomitable bride, fleeing like a frightened bird. He should have known then that she would try to escape.

  Hollen frowned. “You love your father?”

  Joselyn stiffened in his arms. Her face hardened like ice. She didn’t want to talk about this. About him. Too bad.

  “I know you weigh all your actions against your duty to him. But, will you consider something, mu hamma?”

  Reluctance was riddled across her freckle-strewn face, but she nodded.

  “Were it not for your father, would you want to return to your home? To your Viridian lord?”

  Joselyn’s eyes sharpened. She opened her mouth to reply. Hollen drew his hand out of the water, holding it palm-out.

  “Don’t speak, mu hamma.”

  His bride paused, swallowing back her words.

  Hollen dropped his hand. He tucked it around the small of her back. She was delicate in his arms. Strange that the Regna had breathed such an unbreakable spirit into so fragile a body. “You don’t need to answer me right now. Not ever. I ask only that you consider my question. You have time.”

  Not nearly enough.

  “We’ll be together for the year to come. You’ve sworn not to leave. I’ll demand nothing from you that you don’t wish to give. You owe me nothing, Joselyn.” Emotion welled in his throat. “But I beg of you, for once in your life, consider what you owe to yourself.”

  Joselyn silently fingered her pinkened tanshi mark. Was she aware of what she was doing? His eyes narrowed. Where was her necklace? The golden one she was always thumbing? She never took it off. He’d find it. He’d go back to the hunter’s camp and dig through the snow if that’s what it took.

  Joselyn’s eyelids began to droop. Hollen hugged her against himself and pressed his lips to her brow. He lingered there, with his temple against her head. They swayed together, gently rocked by the swirling tide of the pool.

  “Now you know the truth, mu hamma. All of it.”

  She wasn’t his chattel. She’d never been. He had been the only captive from the start.

  23

  The Strongest Among Us

  The flames cast warm amber light around the bok. At times it seemed to Joselyn like she was inside a glowing clay oven. Her mottled feet brushed across the furs as she drew her knees into her chest. The last bite of meat settled heavy in her uneasy stomach.

  Across their bok, Hollen rose from the wooden chest to stoke the fire. Since their conversation the night before, she’d spoken hardly a word to him. He’d followed her silence, but his eyes were tidal pools of emotion. Solicitous didn’t begin to cover his demeanor. He’d waited on her hand and foot, anticipating every need she could possibly have.

  At first she’d ignored him purposefully, anxious to inflict hurt as some consequence for his deceit. It had been tempting to blame him for everything. The scalding ache across her snow-burned flesh, the memories of her violation. She could still feel their ravenous hands on her, palming her like ripe fruit. They’d explored her, taking liberties no man ever had. After hours of soaking in the springs, Joselyn still felt unclean.

  Time and reason had begun to have their way with Joselyn's mind. She couldn’t blame Hollen for what had happened in the wilderness. He’d saved her. What was she going to do now?

  His plan to set her free changed nothing. She still had a duty to her people, and that duty carried a time limit. She couldn’t leave again as she had. She’d given Hollen her word. It shouldn't have taken falling through ice or being attacked by her own people to convince her. Attempting to escape had been futile. She must find another way, and soon.

  She studied the plains of Hollen’s face as he crouched over the fire. She could make him miserable. Make him want nothing more than to return her home and never see her again. She frowned. Was that even possible? Apparently she was his only chance for a bride. Regret nipped at her. She didn’t want Hollen to spend his life alone. Didn’t want him to suffer. But that couldn’t be on her conscience. And, at any rate, he could very well still be lying to her.

  She could still hardly believe that a man who considered himself married would abstain from his husbandly rights. It seemed even more unlikely now that she knew her time here was limited. Who’d ever heard of such a thing? She’d been raised to understand that her greatest duty was to provide heirs for her husband. There was only one way to do that.

  Hollen had made it unmistakably clear that he desired her, that the only thing stopping him from possessing her entirely was Joselyn’s own lack of consent. If it was the truth, Joselyn had a sense that it would change something profound between them. If it was another lie, she’d suffer no more grief at the thought of leaving him forever brideless.

  Joselyn threw back the furs and climbed unsteadily to her tender feet. Hollen dropped what he was doing and rushed to her side. She held up a hand to stop him from touching her. She winced as she took a few limping steps away from the bed.

  “I want to speak with Lavinia.”

  Hollen grimaced at her feet. “I’ll ask her to come.”

  Joselyn hadn’t been outside the bok since yesterday when Hollen carried her unconscious from the springs. She’d spent most of her time sleeping since then. “No. I want to talk to he
r somewhere else.”

  Hollen hesitated. “If you want to speak to her alone, I’ll leave.”

  There was more to it than that. She hadn’t spoken to anyone besides Hollen in two days. She hadn’t seen anyone. But they’d seen her, had seen her half-dead and possibly ravaged.

  “I’m not dying, Hollen.” Joselyn sighed, trying to cleanse the irritation from her tone. “I need to show them that I’m well.”

  Joselyn didn’t delude herself into believing Hollen’s people cared for her. The few connections she’d made were likely forfeit after she’d insulted them by leaving their Salig. She still meant to leave. It shouldn’t matter to her what they thought. And yet, it did.

  Hollen nodded and reached for her hand. Joselyn snapped it away. “The message will be clearer if you aren’t hovering over me like a brood hen.”

  He frowned at her. “You’re still weak, Joselyn.”

  “I am,” she conceded. There was no point in denying it. “But I can walk to the springs.”

  Hollen bit down on the inside of his cheek, and the flesh dimpled. He scrutinized her from head to toe. What must she look like to him? She could feel the bruise where Gerald had struck her across the face. And her throat was still on fire every time she swallowed. After a long moment, Hollen sighed and nodded. “I won’t touch you. But let me walk near you until we find someone to guide you to the springs.”

  Joselyn nodded and followed him silently out of the bok. If she opened her mouth, all her unasked questions might come pouring out. What if he answered them? What if his words left her unable to hate him? She limped along the edge of the tunnel.

  Too late.

  The steam of the springs dampened Joselyn’s clothes. They stuck to her body and grated across her blistered skin. Soren’s mother led her down the tunnel and through the sulfur-misted air. She seemed to know precisely where Lavinia would be.

  Joselyn did her best to ignore the watchful gazes of the other women as she took a great deal longer than usual to strip off her clothing. Thank the gods there were no mirrors in Bedmeg. When there was no dancing, the women ended their evenings by washing away the day’s grime in the springs. Late as it was, the cavern was crowded and loud with the echoes of feminine voices.