White Stag

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White Stag Page 15

by Kara Barbieri


  I curled my fingers into fists to stop my hands from shaking. He has no power over me. He didn’t. He didn’t, and I had to believe it with every ounce of faith, even if his mere name made me quiver with fear. If I remembered those nights with the pain and the blood and the soft, crooning voice, I would be lost. The spiral walls of the underground pressed heavily against me, until the breath was crushed from my lungs. No wonder people went mad in places like this; even without the svartelves, being alone in the dark, utter silence with just your thoughts was deadly. I stopped to gasp for breath, leaning against the slick stones. Each breath of air I sucked in cleared away the darkness in my mind. I focused on the coolness across my tongue and nothing else, until the shiver of my body came to a halt and the panic seeped out of my skin.

  Finally, the passageways opened into a wider tunnel, and the tension in my body eased. Up above, bits of light shone through the cracks of stone. They were dark purple now, casting a haze of violet inside the tunnels. I’d have more luck falling off a cliff to my death than finding Soren now. The air below turned icy and the shivering returned.

  I found a small alcove carved into the side of the stone; the hole was just big enough for me to squeeze in if I curled into a ball. Wintry blasts chilled me to the bone, and I hugged my knees to keep in what little heat I had. Eyelids drooping, I wished for a bearskin cloak and a warm body beside it. Exhaustion overtook me, and I fell into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  I WOKE WITH the morning lights shining from the stones. Their iridescence glittered in the daylight, swirling with greens, blues, and purples. Above me, pieces of a blue sky and the cold sun broke through the cracks in the stone. My body ached in places I didn’t think could ache, and a dark, troubled feeling had settled in the pit of my stomach. Pushing it away, I got up, checked that all my equipment was in place, and continued on my journey.

  The route I picked took a sharp decline. Doubt gnawed in my belly, churning like acid inside me. I wanted to go up to the surface, not down to gods knew where. Before I could turn back, a familiar voice stopped my heart.

  “You should really stop this self-denial horseshit.” Using some dark magic, Tibra managed to sound harsh and bubbly at the same time.

  “I’m not in denial,” Soren snapped. A joy so fierce it was frightening filled me as his growl rumbled throughout the caverns, and I could barely stop myself from hurtling down the cavern. Last night, alone in the cold, I had wished for the now-familiar warmth and protection his body provided. It hadn’t dawned on me until now how much I missed him.

  “Does it frighten you?” Tibra asked. “She’s very pretty. Does that frighten you? You could hurt her. Do other goblins act this way when this happens? I’ve never known. Is it just you? Are you different?”

  “I won’t ever hurt her. Which is much more than I could say for you.” Soren growled a low warning.

  “You can already feel the effects of the potions wearing off, can’t you? You knew you couldn’t make them yourself; it was quite risky bringing her along. Unless you wanted something to happen.”

  Soren snapped at Tibra. “Yes, you’ve found out my master plan. Take Janneke with me on a ceremonial competition involving hunting one another to the death and hope romance blossoms between us so we can take each other in the throes of passion. You are such a good detective; you should get a medal.”

  I stumbled down from where I stood above them, legs half-numb with shock. The goblin and the svartelf stared at me, caught totally unawares by my fall. So many words bubbled on my lips, but the ones that came out were: “Did you just use sarcasm?”

  Tibra’s egg-like eyes widened, and she scampered away, throwing one last sentence over her shoulder. “My way would’ve been funner! But I guess you’re stuck now!”

  “More fun,” Soren growled. “It’s more fun, you heathen.”

  My insides crackled with a static current as I stared up at him from my spot on the ground. “Grammar and sarcasm? You’re hitting a lot of firsts today.” The buzzing inside my head was akin to being drunk. Unable to process what he had said, unable to process how my body reacted to those words, I picked myself up from the floor and straightened my tunic.

  Relief passed through Soren’s lilac eyes and changed to fear as he put two and two together. “How … how much of that did you hear?”

  “I never would’ve guessed your master plan if I’d lived a thousand years,” I said.

  Soren glanced around wildly for something to save him, his pale skin glowing faintly pink. My lips twitched, and the fire inside me grew stronger. After all the times Soren needled and teased me, it was amusing to see him squirm.

  “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you,” Soren began. “I—I—” For once he was at a loss for words.

  “You just want to take me in the throes of passion,” I deadpanned.

  Soren blushed harder, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I was being sarcastic.”

  I rolled my tense shoulders. The muscles ached when they loosened. The fire in them was nothing compared to the one in my chest, though, and I found the courage to speak my mind. “Then what do you want to do to me?”

  He looked away, scowling. “I don’t want to do anything to you.”

  “What do you want, then?” I asked. The voices in the cavern were no mystery now, but instead of fear, my stomach churned with anticipation.

  Soren walked down the slope, skirting around a pool of black liquid too thick to be water. I followed, always one pace behind him as per custom. He inclined his head to the side and waited until we were walking side by side and something warm bloomed inside of me.

  After a long moment he broke the silence. “You know, goblins don’t feel nothing. We’re not emotionless. I’m not emotionless.”

  “It’s hard to tell when you always look like you’re suffering from intense boredom.”

  Soren’s lips quirked. “We feel in extremes. Either complete apathy or complete obsession with whatever emotion takes us over. It makes us effective killers, but it’s also a weakness when it works against us.”

  I was quiet for a long second. The drunk feeling was evaporating and the idea that Soren might actually want me in a physical sense, maybe something even more, was slowly seeping into my head. Strangely, I couldn’t seem to feel afraid, just hot in a way I’d never been before.

  “Go on.”

  “There’s a reason we don’t utilize certain feelings often. Rage, hatred, they’re wonderful when you’re on a hunt. Anything softer is a liability. We’re predators. We can’t afford to put anything else first; we can’t afford to think about anything other than our survival,” he said, his voice rough with frustration.

  “You’re saying that I make you vulnerable. You’re saying you care for me.” When the words crossed my lips, the last fragments of my wall shattered. I’d seen him torture and butcher his enemies like pigs and the way he paid no attention to things he considered beneath him. I’d seen his unstoppable rage when someone threatened to hurt something he loved and the hidden compassionate side that offered me the warmth of his cloak and body. But never had he admitted he was vulnerable. In that second when fear flashed in his eyes, he was as human as me.

  Soren watched me. “Are you afraid?”

  “I don’t know.” Yes, there was something like fear inside of me, but it wasn’t the type I was used to. I wasn’t afraid for my life and didn’t sense any danger. There was only fluttering in my stomach that grew faster with each passing breath. It wasn’t fear; it was something more.

  “I see you,” he began. “I see you and I feel like I need you. I want you with me. I want you by me. I don’t want you to cringe away. I want you to come close. But then I get angry because I shouldn’t want that. I can’t want that. That’s what my mind says. It’s a liability and it makes me weak as a predator. It makes me vulnerable. I hate it. And yet I don’t want to stop feeling it.” At first, he was spitting the words with a furious tone, but then his voice became softer. �
�And I don’t want to force you into something that will make you unhappy. And if that means that I release you from your bind and you go back to the human world and find a man of your own, then I’ll do it. Your happiness means more to me than anything in the world.”

  “I understand what you mean now, Soren,” I said softly. “About monsters.”

  His lilac eyes latched onto me, smoldering with feeling. “What happened to you down here?”

  “I realized where I belong,” I said. I knew I’d never be able to speak of exactly what happened with my father to anyone, no more than anyone else could speak after death. “And I realized you were right. We’re all monsters in some way. But the only ones who are dangerous are the ones who don’t realize it. And—” I paused, my voice dying.

  “And?” he encouraged.

  “I know you won’t hurt me.”

  His gaze softened as he looked down at me. “No, I won’t.” He reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. For once, I didn’t recoil from his touch. I knew what I was now; I knew what I wanted.

  “I’m staying,” I said. “I know where I belong now. And I know what I need to do.”

  Silence hung heavy after I spoke, as if Soren knew exactly what I meant. A small smile graced his features, but his eyes turned grave at my words. As if we’d made a silent agreement, understanding passed through his eyes and he nodded.

  It was silent for a few moments more before I spoke again. “Did you think I was dead when I fell?”

  He shook his head. “Not for a moment. I would know if you died. The bond. I went searching for you after I buried Rekke.”

  My heart gave a painful tug. “Normally you don’t bury the dead on a hunt. We left Helka out to rot.”

  “Yes,” Soren said. “Well, Helka knew what she was getting into. Rekke was a child and shouldn’t have been involved in the first place. The only satisfaction is that Elvira didn’t survive. Her entire clan will fall into ruin because she killed off her only heir. Rekke deserves to go to the afterlife, and she wouldn’t if no one buried her.”

  It eased the heartache a little to know that Rekke would have her revenge in death, and she would be reunited with her father, but it didn’t replace the memory of the young girl with light twinkling in her golden eyes.

  “How long did you search?”

  “A few days, I think. I ran into that svartelf who led me around in circles. Have you ever met one? Nasty little creatures.” He curled his lip in disgust.

  I held back laughter. “I did, actually. And I’d never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad I spent a hundred years with you and not them. I’d be talking in circles.”

  “Even though I lied for all those years?” Soren asked.

  “When it comes to thralldom, I think I was quite lucky,” I said.

  Soren closed his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath before opening them again. “Janneke, I don’t know how to say this. I’m not very good with heartfelt dialogue,” he said softly. “But I want you. I want you to be mine. Not, like, in ownership, not like a thrall. But like … like how people are when they’re close. When they feel something. When…” His eyes closed in frustration.

  Something came over me, and I took his hand, clasping it tight. “I know what you’re trying to say.”

  Be his. The words clung to me. It would be all too easy for him to make me his, but a hundred years had passed without that fear ever creeping up inside me. Be his. That strange, terrified feeling came back. I swallowed to try to calm the butterflies in my belly as they fluttered and spread heat down my navel. During the battle at the mountainside when he raced and fought with unbound hair and sharply defined muscles, he’d been more handsome than terrifying.

  Be his. Soren was arrogant, infuriating in the way he turned his head and his permanent scowls. He was surly and childish and argumentative and never knew when he was defeated. And I liked that; I liked knowing I could break through that surliness to the rare smiles he showed, I liked that I could throw him off when he thought too highly of himself, and when we exchanged words like others exchanged arrows, I found I enjoyed it. Whatever his faults, no one could deny that he was passionate and strong and that he cared about me. I knew if I told him no that would be the end of it. He would let me leave. My choices were my own and my wants and desires were on equal ground with his.

  Be his. The thought scared me. The thought petrified me. But not in the way it should’ve. Not in the way a human should feel about having the love of an apex predator, a goblin, a cruel merciless monster. No, it scared me because for once I was walking out onto thin ice. But maybe he’s worth the risk.

  “Janneke,” he said softly, “are you afraid?”

  “No,” I said. “Not of you.”

  He turned sharply until he was facing me, blocking my path. He reached out and stroked my hair. Our braids were long gone, our perfect hunting clothes near ruins, but none of it mattered. “You were never afraid of me,” he said, his thumb stroking the side of my cheek. So gentle, so soft; I’d never imagined a goblin’s touch could be so soft.

  I leaned into his hand, ignoring the human instincts that screamed at me to stop. Even now, knowing what I felt, knowing what I wanted, my body responded like it always did. A rabbit didn’t easily trust a wolf, after all. But I wasn’t a rabbit, not entirely. Not anymore.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m fine, it’s just … memories.”

  His thumb skimmed my bottom lip. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know,” I said, though it did nothing to stop my racing pulse. “I know.”

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, “and I will. I promise.”

  “I trust you.” The words were barely louder than a breath.

  One of his hands cupped my cheek. The other roamed against my skin until it reached the small of my back. My eyes closed and my lips parted as his brushed against mine. Softly at first, so soft I melted into him, my body burning with a desire as new as it was fierce. My hands tangled in his silky hair.

  He made a sound in the back of his throat, almost like a purr. Shifting, his hips pressed hard against mine, and he brought his lips down to the column of my neck, the underside of my throat. My breath was heavy, and by the time his lips were back on mine, the tips of his sharp teeth gently brushing my bottom lip, I was breathless.

  My hand roamed under his tunic, feeling his muscles and the sharp contours of his body. I let my fingers trail along his spine, feeling the ridges of his bones underneath his skin. My fingers splayed on his ribcage, tracing the hard muscle.

  His kisses became rougher as part of the control he was desperately trying to hold on to slipped. I wasn’t the only one vulnerable anymore. As he brought his hand down to my hip, endorphins dulled the prick of his nails. A small bit of blood trickled down my side.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  And it was.

  In that moment in the darkness, I was more alive than I had ever been before. With my breath pounding in my lungs, my heart racing in my chest, and the mix of fear and want and adrenaline that shot through my veins like a drug, I was not afraid. For this small moment, he wasn’t either.

  Then the booming of raucous laughter broke us apart, and Soren spun, immediately stepping in front of me with his arms out on either side. His nails grew out into claws and with a vicious snarl, his teeth became fangs. When I caught sight of our threat, all the warmth drained from my body.

  Lydian stood before us, and from what I could sense, he had more men down the pathway. He leered at us, his teeth sticking out in a sneer. “And what do we have here?” he asked, his tone playful and mocking. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to lose your focus in the dark?” He eyed me. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be kissing monsters?”

  Oh, I know all too well. But you have no power over me. Not anymore. Not ever aga
in. In an instant, my bow was out and an arrow was notched. Soren’s stance changed ever so slightly, giving me the room to shoot and fight. We are a team. Let him see that now.

  “Nothing to say?” Lydian’s voice became as soft as a smothering pillow. “If I knew you liked it, I might not have given you up. But no. Who can argue with destiny, right?”

  Soren’s snarl came with a surge of power and shook the cavern walls.

  I lifted my chin and stared at Lydian. “You have no power over me.”

  He scoffed. “We’ll see about that. I have more power than all of you. I know.” The goblins in the shadows came forward, their eyes gleaming, weapons shining in the darkness.

  The cavern trembled like it was preparing for the bloodbath about to come. Soren let his power loose in a surge that nearly knocked me off my feet. Like any physical being, it had a form. The light was so bright I had to shield my eyes, and the weight of it pressed hard against my chest.

  Stones rained from above as the ceiling twisted and turned, the stones coming to life.

  Soren glanced up. “Janneke.” His voice was low. “When I say run, go back the way we came as fast as you can.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I whispered back. “Not after that.”

  “Trust me.” A hint of amusement colored his voice. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Lydian advanced with his men as Soren and I slowly repositioned ourselves so we faced the opening behind us. An echoing roar grew louder and louder until it turned into a sharp whine. I followed Soren’s gaze above us. Two dark red eyes peered down from where the coiled stone of the ceiling used to be and a creature yawned, its wicked red maw showing sharp, poison-coated fangs. It tensed its two front legs, red scales glistening as its claws stroked the stone.

 

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