by AJ Adams
“We can fight,” I repeated. “Maybe, if all stand together...”
But Mina and the others just shook and shivered, shaking their heads.
“Look, just taking it is crazy,” I tried again.
“Just shut up!” Mina snapped.
“Right,” said a girl with long chestnut curls. “You’re just causing trouble!”
“You tell her, Lizbeth!” Mina said.
I really didn’t get it, but you can’t fight fifty Beasts alone, so I was stuck. Also, by the look of Mina, Lizbeth and the others, they’d decided they weren’t keen on me, either. They all pulled away from me as if I were trouble.
“Why is your hair so short?” one of them asked me suspiciously.
“It’s how the best people in the Vale wear it.”
“Liar!” Lizbeth sniffed.
“I heard that in Vale they do that as punishment,” Mina said cattily.
“Wynne got ten lashes,” Tawny blurted out. “For whoring.”
There was a dead silence. I should’ve said something, told them I was innocent, but I couldn’t speak.
Then Tawny told them the whole story. “Can you imagine,” she ended, “she even pretended the Steward would back her! The Patriarch whipped her for it!”
The Citizens stared, their eyes cold, and then, as if one, all of them then turned their backs on me. Well, at least it meant I wasn’t crowded. I had a corner of the cart all to myself.
Seeing nobody was talking, I went back to watching the camp by peering through the gaps in the doors. The Beasts were gathered in a group, tugging at bunches of twigs. Rune took one, made a short speech, and wandered off somewhere out of sight. Siv stayed, pulling away with the others. I didn’t get it, until a small bunch cut away and made their way to our cart. They’d been drawing straws for us.
The Beasts opened the doors, pulling at Mina and the others. When one of them grabbed at me, I kicked him. He didn’t flinch but Siv held him back.
“The chained one is Rune’s,” he said. “But all the others are up for grabs.”
The relief flooded through me. If Rune kept me for himself, I had breathing space. I needed to get free so I could run. Or fight.
“I got the longest straw,” Siv announced. “First choice is mine.”
Watching the Beasts line up the girls and make their choices was horrible. The girls didn’t struggle, but they wept, and it broke my heart. I couldn’t fight them all, there were too many of them, so all I could do was watch.
Siv picked the girl who’d asked about my hair, but he found time to send a nasty glance at me. He was still bent on revenge.
The Beasts were straight into it, just like before. I saw Lizbeth crying while one pulled down her skirt, and Tawny was in floods, too, as two Beasts were stripping her.
I couldn’t stand it, so I closed my eyes and ears. I knew I had to get away. With chained ankles I was dead—it was too long and dangerous a journey to crawl home—but if I could free my feet, I could make it. Probably. There would be raiders, wolves and other dangers, but nothing as dangerous as the Beasts.
Logic told me that the key to freedom lay in Rune. If I could persuade him that I was like the other girls, he’d take off these damned restraints. That made me a bit down. If I hadn’t kicked Siv in the balls, they would have tossed me in with the others, and I would have been on my way home by now.
Home. Going back was going to be hell. Even if Mina and the others were welcomed back, I wouldn’t be. My family hated me, as did the rest of the Vale. But there was a bright side: if the Steward would speak for me, I could still get my Citizenship, my inheritance, earn a living, and be independent. Most of all, I’d show them all how wrong they’d been, and that mattered a lot to me. Pride, you see. It’s probably a sin, but there you go.
To get all that, I had to run away. The Patriarch wouldn’t pay for me, and the Citizens wouldn’t help, not after I was branded a whore. No, unless I ran and fixed my own problems, I’d be a slave all my life. I almost cried, I’ll admit that right now, but I pulled myself together. I told myself to be tough. I’d persuade Rune to unchain me, and then I’d run.
Seeing nobody was looking my way, I slid out of the cart and began making my way for the brook. I had to make bunny hops, but it wasn’t far and I made it easily enough. I dipped my face in the clear, cold water, and tried to drink the blessed stream dry.
When I sat back on my heels, Rune was there, looking down at me—massive, scary and with all those tattoos bristling. I forgot about being nice. I ducked instinctively and tried to roll away. I ended up in the stream. It wasn’t deep, but the shackles meant I couldn’t use my hands or legs, and so I went under, feeling the rocks against my hands and knees, water flooding my lungs.
Rune fished me out. Not by the hair, thankfully. I lay on the grass, gasping, retching and he just looked on, impassive.
I got mad again, and then I was giving him hell. “You moron! I could’ve drowned!”
He just shrugged. “You should’ve stayed in the cart.”
“I was thirsty.”
“Not anymore.”
“Rune!” A long, lean blond bloke came running up. “Conclave.”
He was up and off, the two of them loping across the field with those long, distance-devouring strides. Conclave, whoever that was, was important. I saw him join the others, and then listen as all of them talked together. Conclave looked like a meeting of some kind. I couldn’t hear, but there was lots of chat, and then Rune was talking, laying down the law probably. He seemed the bossy type. Then the Beasts were nodding and splitting up.
Me, I sat by the brook, cold, wet and increasingly aware of my hunger. I could smell roasting meat, see the Beasts feast on the damn stuff, but not one of them was sharing.
Rune vanished, but I spotted Mina, huddled together with another girl, both of them white with strain, watching as the men stuffed themselves. Mina asked, I could see, and got cuffed for it. If I’d had a knife, I would’ve stabbed the buggers. As I hadn’t, I sat and drooled.
It got dark, a wind swept up, and then I was seriously freezing. I spotted a blanket and bedroll that looked familiar and crawled over. It kept me warm, but the second I stopped shivering, I remembered how hungry I was. Bummer, right?
By the time Rune returned, it was dark. The Beasts had finished eating and were back at enjoying themselves. I saw him go to the river and wash. He scraped his face with his small fighting knife. That explained the lack of beard among the Beasts. Llanfaes mercenaries shave, too, because in battle long hair gives the enemy a hand-hold.
When he was done, Rune went around, talking again. Finally I saw him stop at a fire and dip into a pot. I was salivating and faint with hunger, but I wasn’t expecting him to give a damn. So I was totally taken aback when he came over and handed me a bowl containing a thick slice of bread topped with meat.
I bolted it down. No thanks, no hesitation, just me and the food. I ate it so quickly that he was still looking at his blanket, wet from my dive into the river, when I was licking the juices from my fingers.
It occurred to me that I had to be meek so I could get free. I summoned my best apologetic look. “Sorry, I was cold and wet.”
He didn’t say a word, but I felt his disapproval.
“It’s not like I could strip and get dry any other way.” I showed him the shackles on my wrists. “I’m still cold. And wet.”
He was looking me over and thinking. So much for Beasts being crazy, wild and murderous. This one was calculating, and I had the feeling he was three steps ahead of me. He knew I’d try and bolt, and he was looking at the camp, thinking it was impossible. Probably. The arctic blue eyes were taking me in, and he was in no hurry to come to a decision.
“Pass over?”
Two Beasts were looking our way. Rune shook his head. “Not yet.”
Not yet. Time to be friendly, and then run.
“The shackles.” I lifted my hands and then I smiled at him.
Nothing.
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Another smile. “Thank you for the food.”
Nope. A cold, blue-eyed gaze.
“Fine.” I curled up on the ground. “Let’s stare at each other.”
He undid the shackles. I started taking off my wet clothes, meaning I reached for my skirt’s drawstring, and then I got shy. Crazy, right? He’d seen my everything already. Also, there was the seduce-and-run plan. But still! I just couldn’t. I mean, I’m bad, but I just couldn’t take off my things, not in front of him.
So we looked at each other for a while, and then he was reaching over and tugging at the material.
I slapped him.
Yes, I know. But the second he touched me, I just exploded. I got him right across the face. He blinked, and then he gave me a hard shove that sent me flying onto my back. He was on top of me before I could catch my breath. He twisted my tunic up and over my mouth, then tangling my arms, while a brutally efficient hand was pulling down my skirt. I tried to kick, but he had me rolled on my front before the thought translated into action.
Just like the night before, we ended up with him lying on top of me. “Quiet,” he said. “Stop now.”
He was holding my wrists, pulling them out in front of me. I rubbed my face over the ground, clearing away the cloth from my face. His arms, inked snakes dancing as his muscles flexed, were right by my cheek. Unlike the night before, I took a breath and didn’t savage him.
“Calm now,” he growled.
I lay still, feeling his weight on top of me. I wanted to speak, but he was crushing the breath out of me. When I moved my head, he was shifting fast, trying to keep away from my teeth. He was too slow this time, and to show him I was being nice, I brushed my lips over a bulging bicep. Instantly, he had a massive hard-on. Me, I was remembering that explosion of feeling from the night before.
Thinking about the deliciousness, I licked a writhing serpent, and felt the hardness dig into me. His breath was in my ear, shallow and fast, but the hand pinning my wrists didn’t loosen and he didn’t lean up. I licked again, and nuzzled. The rod was throbbing now, and his breath was faster. I was thinking of that cock piercing me, fuelling the heat. I could feel my breath catch.
“I won’t bite. Promise.”
A long pause, and then he was carefully lifting off me. I moved slowly too, and then we were lying next to each other, his eyes gazing into mine. It was cold, a stiff breeze now blowing over my arse. I rolled a little closer and his hands were on my shoulders, his knees blocking me.
“Won’t aim for the balls, either.”
The hands moved over my back, and then he was pulling me closer. I felt how huge he was and remembered the pain that had come before the sweetness. My mind was flooded by that throttling fear again. I found myself stiffening and stifling the impulse to kick and run. Instead of belting him, I held on, my hand bunching in his tunic, my breath exploding from me in frightened gasps.
He stilled and then was petting me. “Quiet now, Ylva. Calm.”
I sweated and shook, feeling that weird hot front and cold back was just like me, half terrified of being hurt and half remembering how good it had been. I solved the cold issue by pushing my body into his and burying my face in his neck. He was putting out a tonne of heat, and I soaked it up gratefully.
I’d moved for the warmth but I found comfort, too. He was strong, all lean muscle, but his skin was soft. He smelled of musk, wood and smoke. It felt dangerous, feral, but his hands were soft as he held me. “Just let me,” he said. “Quiet now, Ylva.” Like I was a dumb animal, but somehow okay.
“What’s Ylva?”
“She’s a wolf, a brave one.” He paused and added, “She bites, too.”
It was a compliment, I think. I leaned in and just stayed there. He writhed and the blanket flipped over us, trapping the heat. The leathers disappeared. Then the tunic. I took a breath, feeling the fear again, but all he did was hold me.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”
A few breaths, and then suddenly it was true. It would be all right. And afterwards, I’d be free to run. Just like Ylva. At the thought, courage swept through me. The solid heat of him against my hip wasn’t scaring me anymore because I knew I could do this.
“Mine.” His voice was a whisper in the night. “Mine.”
His hands were sweeping over my back, sensual over my skin. The calluses rubbed and teased. He took his time, just stroking me, and soon I was floating, warm now, and happy. Running was taking a back seat.
As he stroked and petted, he breathed on my neck, setting delicious shivery feelings shimmering through me. He kissed the soft skin by my collarbone, and the warmth ratcheted up a notch. More gentle nuzzling, and that beat between my legs was pulsing, my breath ragged. He dipped his head, his tongue flickering my nipples. It was exquisite, and I could hear myself moan.
The hardness was throbbing against me, brushing against that little nub again. Pulses of pleasure were washing through me. I was writhing against him, my hands gripping the muscles, my mouth teasing and sucking the snakes that danced before my eyes.
Rolling on my back, his heat covering me, felt right. I was spreading my legs, throbbing with want. He was keeping his weight off me. One arm was behind my shoulders, the other on the ground, keeping him from crushing me. My arms snaked up and around him, hugging the rippling torso.
He leaned his iron-hard shaft against me, and then his head dipped, his tongue creating pulses of delight. My hips bounced up, locking on his. His hands positioned me underneath him, and then I was arching, gasping as I pulled him inside me.
He slid home, filling me gloriously, his body dancing against mine in sweet rhythm. I was clutching at him, drinking him in, drowning in his presence. It was heaven.
We moved as one, our breaths mingling as we arched and writhed. I was floating in bliss. I was hanging on, my arms around him, loving the way his hard body rubbed against my soft one. I was intensely aware of how my puckered nipples brushed against his chest, how our pulsing magnified the beat between my thighs.
He was thrusting into me, possessing me sweetly. As he pulled me close, warmth, comfort, sensuality and passion throbbed through me. My senses soared, and I was adrift in delicious ecstasy.
I pulsed as he groaned, delving in deeper with each thrust. He picked up the pace, fucking me hard, and I was loving it. The heat inside me banked, my breath punching out in little gasps, and then he was nipping at my neck, the fierce pinching sending me spiralling into bliss.
I arched and wailed, shattering into rapture, bucking as I rode a wild wave of delight. I was vaguely aware of him moaning as he exploded inside me, pouring himself into me in creamy waves.
Hot and sweaty, I lay in his arms, clutching at him, sobbing as shivers of ecstasy rippled through me.
“Rune! Pass over?”
I just gripped him, too shattered to think.
Rune lifted his head. “Not yet.”
Chapter Five
I was a puddle of emotion, holding on to him as the ripples of bliss shimmered through me in aftershocks. The snakes were writhing as he held me.
“These look fierce.” I was feeling friendly.
“It’s the Midgard serpent, Jormungand. He controls sea storms.”
I wasn’t going to make cracks about useful pals, not when his ship was at the bottom of the Brighthelme bay. “I like it,” I told him.
He was running hands over my back, stroking my hair, and then he was moving away.
“Wait!” I clung, but he was reaching for the shackles and my ankles. I came crashing back to earth. My plan was in smithereens. “No!”
“Calm now.” He twitched the blanket over me. “Quiet.”
It made me furiously angry. “Be calm when you chain me like an animal? You—you BEAST!” I slapped at him, ripping up at him and calling him every name under the sun. He ignored me, plunging briefly in the brook before pulling on his clothes. Then he loped off.
I lay under the blanket, thinking furiously.
> He’d chained my feet but not my hands. I couldn’t get far by bunny-hopping or crawling, so I was stuck. Then I remembered the rocks in the river. I’d taken our wheat for milling, watching the Guildsmen use rocks to grind the grain into flour; maybe river stones could pound the chain that linked the shackles to bits.
The fires were burning down, sending out warmth but less light. Most of the Beasts were sleeping, with only a few awake. Rune had set up his blanket a little from the others, just like before. It meant the dark shielded me.
I found my tunic and shrugged it on. It was still damp, but I didn’t fancy the idea of going around nude. My skirt was there, too, also sodden still but better than nothing.
Decently covered if cold and damp, I crept towards the brook, keeping low. Dipping in deep, I found a couple of stones. I put one underneath the chain, and bashed with the other. It was noisy but when I looked back the camp was quiet, so I kept at it.
I realised I was doing it wrong because when I pounded, the links just bent a little. I needed a sharper rock. Delving back into the icy water, I looked for a pointy one. I found one, and was at it again, this time making it work. One of the links snapped, and with some pulling, I got it to separate. The shackles were still around my ankles, but without the chain hobbling me, I was free to run.
I was on my feet when I heard something move behind me. I glanced back and saw two dark shapes heading for me. Beasts. I was up and running, splashing through the brook, heading for the trees.
I ran for my freedom, knees up, arms pumping, ignoring the stones, twigs and sharp edged stuff cutting into my feet, and the thorns and bushes that whipped around my knees.
I thought I was going to make it when there was a sharp whistle, and I spotted movement in front of me. The Beasts were hunters, and the buggers had me pinned. I feigned right, broke left, and found they’d not fallen for it in the slightest. They surrounded me.
I stood there, sucking in huge gulps of air, aware I had no weapon but determined to fight when one of them booted me in the back of my knees. I went down, and they were on top of me.