by Rachel Angel
Jasper patted his horse’s neck. “Good job, Rocko. You really saved me this time.”
“Me, too,” Ally said still comfortable in Jasper’s grasp.
“I think it’s safe for you to get down now,” he said into her ear.
What if I don’t want to, she almost said, but when he released his hold of her and almost pushed her off, she knew better than to contradict him.
“What do we do now?” she said as she stood on the edge of the cliff, her hands on her hips. When he didn’t answer, she turned to find him looking at her backside.
Caught in the act, he quickly averted his gaze and scanned the horizon. “The sun will be going down soon. We’d better find a place to sleep and get a fire started. Hopefully, by morning those things will be gone.”
Already the serpent-like creatures slithered around aimlessly. With no prey to kill, they were sure to lose interest soon enough.
“Maybe they’ll be gone before then,” Ally said as she headed to her horse and spoke softly to her, trying to calm her fears. The truth was the idea of sleeping out in the open didn’t really appeal to her.
“We’re not going to take that chance,” Jasper said as he hopped off his horse. “It’ll be dark soon and it’d be insane to try to make it back to the academy in the dark.”
He turned to the jagged rocks behind them. “Follow me.” He grabbed the reins of his horse and guided him down a narrow path.
Ally looked around for a better option. Finding none, she followed Jasper. Every once in a while Jasper bent down to pick up large twigs and the occasional log. After a while, Ally did the same.
By the time they reached the opening of a shallow cave, they had a sizeable bundle of wood.
“This will have to do,” Jasper said. “Do you want to start the fire or would you rather go out to find something for dinner?” He dropped his bundle of wood in the center of a large flat slab.
“Something like what?” Ally said.
“Whatever you can find; rabbit, pheasant, rat.” He looked at her. “You do know how to hunt, don’t you?”
“Start the fire,” she said, not wanting to get into it. “I’ll bring back something to eat.” She picked out a suitable branch, fished out a long length of rope from her saddle bag and headed back down the path.
“Don’t go too far,” Jasper called out.
Ten minutes later she returned and slammed a huge slab of meat on the flat rock near the fire.
Jasper looked up from his fire and cocked an impressed brow at the meat. “What did you do? Go all the way to a butcher?”
She shrugged. “I thought it’d be easier to carry up here if I butchered it into smaller, easy to carry pieces.”
“Smaller?” he said with surprise. “How big is the rest of it?”
“Big enough to keep us fed all week, if we need it.”
“What the hell is it? Did you shoot down an elephant?”
Ally sliced the slab of meat into cubes and slid a series of them along a thin branch. Placing it over the fire, she looked up at Jasper. “I just hope it tastes good.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is, or what?”
“I thought I’d wait until after we eat.”
The meat started to sizzle and a pleasant enough aroma wafted up to her nostrils. “Want a taste?” she said as she picked up the branch and pulled a chunk of meat off.”
“You first. If you fall dead, I’ll skip it.”
“As you wish.” She bit into the meat that was surprisingly tender and swallowed it down. Glancing at Jasper, she popped the rest of the chunk of meat into her mouth and licked her fingertips. “Delicious.”
She pulled another chunk off the branch. “Want to try it now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She came up to him and held the piece of meat in front of his lips. With the hint of an odd smile on his lips, he looked up at her, then opened his mouth to receive her offering.
“Hmmm, not bad. So what are you feeding me, exactly?”
“The most abundant meat I could find.”
Shrugging and shaking his head, he looked at her in anticipation of clarity.
“Those serpent creatures,” she finally said.
“No, seriously.”
“Seriously.”
After taking a moment to accept that he’d just eaten and enjoyed a bit of serpent, he licked his lips. “The ugly buggers taste pretty good. How the hell did you get it without getting yourself killed?”
“I fished it up. I fashioned a small piece of metal from my boots into a pointed hook, tied it to that length of rope and went fishing.”
Jasper looked bored.
“Admit it. That was pretty ingenious. You would probably still be out there chasing a rabbit.”
“All right. That was a good idea. Why kill a rabbit when there’s so much dead meat lying right there?”
“Right.”
“So, seeing how you have so much, I’ll have another piece.”
She pulled another piece off the branch and once again brought it to his lips. He opened his mouth, but this time, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her fingers as he took the piece.
Her lips instantly parted at the strange sensation of the intimate touch. Her eyelids grew heavy and her breath caught in her throat. She was momentarily speechless and frozen in place.
“I’ll have another.”
Ally hesitated a moment. This wasn’t going as she’d expected.
“I said, I’ll…”
“Yes. I heard you.” She picked off another piece and hesitated before going to him.
“Are you afraid I’ll bite you?” There was a surprising note of playfulness in his voice.
“Of course not.” She brought the meat to his lips once more.
This time Jasper grasped her wrist and held her hand still as he took the meat as well as the length of her index finger into his mouth.
A jolt of something, something she’d never felt before, but something that was infinitely pleasurable, shot through her.
Slowly, he pulled her finger out, all while keeping his tongue and lips on her. Once her finger was free, he chewed on his mouthful.
Ally swallowed and was suddenly so hungry for him.
“You know, if circumstances at Wyvern were different…” He let the statement hang there.
She looked longingly at him, her lips aching to touch his. “Things don’t have to be this way,” she said softly.
Jasper took the branch of meat out of her hand and set it aside. Grasping her wrists, he pulled her to him, then wrapped his arms around her waist as he held her tight.
His lips were close, so close. She looked into his green eyes, trying to read his thoughts, his intentions.
“I never thanked you for what you did at the Emerald Palace.” His words were sincere and heartfelt. “I’ll never forget that you saved my grandmother’s life. Never.”
Ally couldn’t resist bringing her hand up to run it through his teal hair. She swallowed the ball of nerves that was suddenly overtaking her.
What were they doing?
“I…” she started, but Jasper pulled her in closer and kissed the rest of her thoughts away.
His warm, wet mouth covered hers while his tongue explored her. Stiff and unsure, Ally remained motionless, simply letting him kiss her, letting him take charge. But as her arousal grew, as she felt an unusual fire burning deep within her, she grabbed a hold of him and pulled him into her. She breathed him in.
She couldn’t get enough. She wanted to get closer to him still. She wanted him to fill her. When his hands grabbed her buttocks, she straddled him and was shocked by the sensation of his hard body against hers.
Oh my God, she wanted to cry. How could a man be so beautiful? How could a man be so delectable? Her hands trailed down over his muscular arms and she reveled in the strength she felt in them. Pure power. The power to take her, to control her.
His fingers kneaded her backside before traveling up her spi
ne, and up to the back of her neck.
Ally was lost in his touch. Nothing else matter but his hands on her.
“You are incredible,” he said in a hoarse, almost unrecognizable voice. “I’ve never met a woman like you. I’ve never had a woman like you.” He kissed her neck, and throat and collar bone. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and strong, and so freakin’ talented. I want to see what other talents you have. I want to bathe in your talent.”
He ran his tongue down low into her cleavage and she let out a breathy sigh.
“I knew from the moment I first saw you that I wanted you. My God, how I want you.”
Everything he said filled her with joy, and every part of her that he touched sizzled with euphoria. Damn he was hot. Damn. He was just too hot.
She wanted more. She wanted it all. She wanted all of him.
But when his fingers headed up to run through her hair, Ally suddenly snapped out of her lust-filled stupor and backed away. No matter how badly she wanted him, she couldn’t let him discover that she wore a wig.
For a moment Jasper kept his hold of her. “What’s the matter?” he said. “Surely a beautiful girl like you is accustomed to men wanting to touch you.”
“As a matter of fact, no.”
He released her suddenly, but still let his fingers linger on the sides of her thighs. “Are you still a virgin?” he asked incredulously.
“So what if I am?” She didn’t want to completely leave his hold. She didn’t want to completely put out the fire that burned between them. She just wanted to control the intensity a bit. But now it seemed as if the moment had passed. The fire had died down.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just assumed.”
She looked at him curiously. “Assumed what?”
He hesitated a moment. “That you’d been around.”
“Been around where?” she said as she sat on the slab of rock beside him, suddenly feeling quite naïve.
Jasper chuckled. “Never mind.”
They sat in tense silence for a long while.
“You know,” he finally said. “Despite everything, my grandmother, the sword, the attraction I might have for you, nothing has changed where Wyvern Academy is concerned.”
“I guess I didn’t really expect it to,” Ally lied. She had expected just that. She’d thought they’d return to the Academy and all would be fine. Jasper would convince the guys that she was really a great girl to be around, that she deserved to be in class with them, that they should all just let her be.
“You need to leave Wyvern,” he said with finality. “If not, you’ll wind up dead.”
Chapter 12
With a headache from a horribly sleepless night, Ally arrived at her dorm room to find the door ajar. She closed her eyes, praying it was just the wind that had pushed it open.
But no.
Inside, her room was a mess, and for a heartbroken moment she wanted to crumble to the floor and cry. She felt completely, and utterly defeated. The constant onslaught of bullying was wearing her down and she was starting to think she might not have the mental strength to go on.
She had never stopped to consider just how draining it was to be hated, to be hated for no good reason. They all hated her because she was a girl; not because she was mean, not because she was stupid, not because she had ever done anything wrong, but simply and uniquely because she was a girl.
Growing up with Kate and Bilbo, she’d never sensed that being a girl was any different than being a boy. She and William grew up playing together; sometimes quietly playing chess, and at other times rough and tumble games of sport.
They were both treated the same, given the same chores, the same responsibilities, and the same rewards. Never did she hear them say that she couldn’t do a task simply because she was a girl.
The forge was proof. Even William struggled to work the iron so well.
Tossing her overnight bag on the one chair still upright, she put her hands on her hips and assessed the damage.
She grunted as she looked at her bed. The linens had been pulled off and bundle up on the floor, and she good have sworn it smelled of urine. Red paint had been poured over the center of the mattress and a box of feminine hygiene products had been emptied on the bed.
The chair in front of her desk was overturned, the curtains at the window were tied in knots and the flowers from her vase were shredded.
Then she noticed that the door to her dressing room was ajar and she caught a glimpse inside. She didn’t know if she dared look. Stealing herself, she balled her slight hands into fists of growing rage and pushed the door open.
Her clothes, what little clothes she had brought to Wynern, was everywhere. Most of the garments were cut to shreds while others had been dipped in various substances; tar, oil, paint. Virtually everything was ruined.
“What a waste,” she muttered under her breath. “And all for what?”
Were she a vengeful person, she’d systematically ransack every single dorm room, with particular attention given to the rooms of the cruel princes.
Fingering a favorite shirt, she sighed softly. The soft cotton shirt had delicate embroidery along the hem; small flowers of yellow and red. She could still see Kate, seated by the fire with needle and thread.
Bitter tears streamed down Ally’s cheeks as she remembered how Kate had so often tried to teach her to embroider. But anything having to do with needles and thread were not among Ally’s many talents. Her first and only attempt at embroidery had resulted in an unappealing clump of thread. Even William had managed better.
Ally smiled wistfully as she brought the hem of the shirt to her cheek. The boys had cut two large holes where her breasts were. Perhaps she could somehow salvage a portion of it. If she cut the last few inches of the shirt, she could at least keep Kate’s beautiful craftsmanship.
Thankfully she had brought more clothes than necessary for her weekend at the Emerald Palace. Still, that left her with only two pairs of pants, five white shirts and a handful of undergarments for the remainder of her semester at Wyvern.
She’d have to look into sending word to Kate, asking for more clothes, something she was loath to do. They’d already done so much for her, and purchasing new clothes would strain their precarious financial situation further.
“Never mind that,” she said aloud. “Let’s see what we can do about this room.”
For the next hour, she tidied up the room as best as she could. She brought the clothes and linens that could be salvaged to the laundry room, threw away what was definitively ruined, then mopped the floor, unknotted the curtains and polished the hardwood furniture.
By the time she was finished it was lunchtime and she was famished. She made her usual trek to the dining hall and got in line. With more than thirty boys in line in front of her, she wondered if she’d have time to be served and eat, and still make it to her next class.
She gazed up at the clock. She had twenty minutes. Hopefully, service wouldn’t be too slow today. As she considered whether she would have the lamb or fish, she heard a loud, raucous cry… a familiar cry.
As her heart filled with dread, she turned just in time to see Razor heading straight towards her. His lunch tray was laden with steaming minestrone soup, hot pasta with tomato sauce and cheese, and hot coffee topped with whipped cream.
Mere steps away, she saw it in his eyes; the hatred, the pure venom. The need and desire to humiliate her once more. But she had nowhere to go. It all happened so fast, yet it felt as if it was all in slow motion. She saw him trip over his own feet, and watched him stumble in an exaggerated clownish fashion with the menacing tray held only by his fingertips.
She saw the tray flip on its side, saw the hot soup leap out of its bowl, saw the pasta slide off its plate and saw the coffee take its own trajectory as it emptied from its cup.
She barely had time to close her eyes, and only enough time to turn slightly away. The hot liquids sprayed the side of her face, hot coffee poured into her ear an
d the pasta landed on her chest. The heat of the elements burned her skin, but that’s not what hurt the most.
The laughter that erupted was deafening, absolutely deafening. Yet above the roar of laughter, it was Razor’s snicker that she heard the most.
“Oops,” he said with amusement.
Quiet and still as the hot liquid ran down her neck and into her shirt, she shook inside. Every nerve in her body was coiled up, ready to spring, ready to pounce. She wanted to wipe the silly smirk off his face. She wanted to rub his face into every platter in the dining hall.
Instead, she breathed. She sucked in air, held it a moment and exhaled. She listened to her heartbeat as it slowly quieted down and resumed something resembling normal.
She couldn’t let him win. She refused to give him the satisfaction of breaking down and crying with rage.
“You know,” he said, swiping his finger across her chest to retrieve a bit of pasta. “I think you owe me a lunch.”
She looked up at him from under her brow. Seething with rage, she snarled.
“Ooh, I think we have a rabid bitch here,” he called out. “Someone call the dog pound.”
Some of the boys laughed, but many had grown bored with the spectacle and had continued down the line in pursuit of their meal.
“What are you going to do, little girl?” Razor said as he brought his face up close to hers. “Bite me?”
Vigorously shaking her head, she splattered him with coffee and soup.
He backed away, annoyed, but still amused. Glancing down at her soaked shirt, he smiled. “Maybe I should have a little romp with you before you scurry away with you tail between your legs.”
There were no words; nothing that she could say that could possibly hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. She simply looked at him and waited for him to get bored with her.
It didn’t take long. Only a few seconds of resigned silence and he stomped his way to the front of the line to get another tray of food.
Ally wiped the soup off her face and brushed the pasta off her chest. Her white shirt was ruined, but she refused to leave. She was hungry and wanted her lunch. When she got to the front of the line, the chef held her gaze for a sympathetic moment, then shook his head in dissapproval.