Willing Sacrifice

by Shannon K. Butcher

  She nodded, and curly locks of dark hair slid over her shoulder. “Someone has to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re important.”

  She thought he was important? The idea sent a thrill racing through him until he was puffed up and feeling like a champion. “What makes you think that?”

  “Brenya brought you here. She wouldn’t have done that unless we needed you for some reason, and that means I should do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

  Some of his pride deflated a bit, but he tried to hide it. “Do I look like I need a protector?”

  Her gaze slid over his body so slowly that he swore he could feel it against his skin. Places that had been chilled by the damp air grew warm, and the disk along his spine tingled.

  “You look invincible,” she said. “But then, what do I know? You’re the only man I remember meeting.”

  You’ve met me before. You’ve felt my lips on yours. Those were the words that bulged behind his teeth, trying to break free. He held them back, but the effort left him shaking with fury that he was required to stay silent when the woman he loved was within reach.

  “I’m not invincible,” he admitted. “But I’m far more suited to battle than you.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, drawing his attention to the slim line of her arms. Goose bumps puckered her skin.

  Torr removed the blanket he’d tossed over his shoulders the previous night to cover his bare chest. There were no clothes here that fit him, but he’d been forced to wear worse things than a clean blanket before.

  He pulled the fabric around her body, wrapping her in the warmth that clung to it.

  The move pulled her close. His fists stayed bunched at the edges of the blanket, unable to let go. Her head tilted back as she looked up at him, and until this moment, he hadn’t realized just how perfectly she fit his frame. Since the night he’d met her, after saving her family from attack by Synestryn demons, one or the other of them had been paralyzed. First him, then her. He’d never stood in front of her like this until coming here. It felt incredibly right, which was its own kind of torture.

  One hand held the blanket tight. The other slid over her shoulder, across the nape of her neck. His fingers parted as they moved through her hair to cup the back of her head.

  Her dark eyes widened, and her mouth opened on a silent, sudden breath.

  His hold on her was absolute. She couldn’t have broken free if she’d tried. She was trapped, and yet there was no sign of fear this time. Only curiosity and excitement.

  “I’m not sure if we should be this close,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “I can hear a voice inside telling me it’s wrong. But . . .” She trailed off, frowning.

  “But what?”

  “If it’s wrong, then why does it feel so nice?”

  Her innocence hit him like a falling tree. With her memories gone, and no experience with men, she had no way of knowing what a man like him wanted from her.

  And he did want from her. So much.

  Torr released her and took a step back. It wasn’t as far as it should have been, but even moving away that distance was an effort of will.

  “Why are there no men here?” he asked.

  “Brenya doesn’t allow it.”

  “But she brought me here.”

  “None of us know why. Unless you’re here to give someone a child or meet one of your children.”

  Shock drifted through him. “What? Why would you think that?”

  Grace backed up a couple of steps, gripping the blanket. The flicker of fear that passed through her expression was quick, but he still saw it.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said. “I’m sorry if that question was out of line.”

  “It’s not that. You can ask me whatever you want. I’m just a little surprised that you’d think that’s why I’m here.”

  “Athanasian women come here sometimes after meeting with special men on Earth. The women stay here and have their children before going back home. I thought maybe you were one of the fathers since you’re from Earth.”

  “I’m not one of the fathers, nor did I come here to become one.” It wasn’t possible. He’d heard rumors that there was a serum that could restore his fertility and that all the men had been ordered to take it, but in order to get it he would have had to go back to Dabyr. And that wasn’t an option. If he had gone back, his brothers might not have let him leave again, and he couldn’t have stood being around so many happy couples when he didn’t even know if Grace was safe.

  Her gaze drifted past him, growing distant. “I’ve often wondered if I had a child before Brenya saved me. I keep seeing the face of a little boy in my dreams.”

  Torr guessed it was her stepbrother she saw. Blake. They’d been close, but he couldn’t tell her that without revealing that he had known her in her old life. Doing that would come too close to breaking his vow to Brenya. Instead, he settled for, “How old was he?”

  “Nine or ten.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Torr did. She was twenty-eight now, after her years here. “You’re still young. You would have had to have been pregnant as a child to have a son that old. I’m sure he’s just someone you were close to.”

  “A brother?”

  “Possibly,” he said, hedging. “If you regain your memories, I’m sure you’ll be able to find him.”

  “Do you think he’s looking for me?”

  “Anyone who lost you would never stop looking for you, never stop trying to get you back, never stop wondering if you were safe and happy.”

  A sad smile shaped her mouth. The last time he’d touched it had been the time he’d had to breathe for her. He’d wished his lips had been on hers for any other reason but to force air into her lungs. She’d been so frail then. At death’s door. He’d known it might be the last time he would ever see her, and yet here she was, safe and so beautiful it made his chest ache.

  “You’re sweet,” she told him. “If all men are like you, it’s no wonder Brenya keeps them away. None of us would ever get any work done.”

  “Brenya would be smarter to bring more men like me here to keep you all safe.”

  “If you’re going to keep anyone safe, you’ll need to eat something. Let’s get you some food and I’ll see if we have any clothes that might fit.”

  He fell in line behind her as she started walking toward the cluster of huts around the Sentinel Stone. “Are you saying you don’t like me running around half naked?”

  “I try not to lie, so I won’t say that, but it is distracting. The girls all want to touch you, which I have to admit I don’t like.”

  Jealousy? He couldn’t be sure. What he was sure of was that he’d wear pink stockings and a clown wig if it made Grace happy. “We can’t have that. I bruise easily.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t believe that, not after seeing how fast you heal. You barely needed more than to have the blood cleaned away.”

  “Fast healing comes with the job.”

  “What job is that?”

  “Getting beaten to a pulp all the time.”

  “Well, I hope you’re good at it. If we’re going after those things in the woods, you’re going to need to be an expert.”

  “We’re not going after them. I am.”

  “You won’t find them without my help. Even Brenya agreed I needed to go along, and she doesn’t want me anywhere near danger.”

  “You can just point the way.”

  Grace stopped so suddenly he nearly ran into her. Her chin was set in a way he recognized—one that said she was going to get her way.

  In that instant, he remembered how she’d gotten him to start eating again after he’d decided to starve to death. None of his brothers would kill him and free him from the prison his body had created. He was paralyzed, and all the Sanguinar around were pouring all of their energy
into trying to heal him. Nothing had worked, and he’d become nothing but a drain on the people he loved.

  Joseph, his leader, had refused to let him meet an honorable death, so Torr had taken the decision out of his hands. No one could force him to eat. It was the only thing he had left that he controlled.

  And then Grace had come to him, so sweetly coaxing, offering to remove one item of clothing for every bite he took. The temptation had been more than he could resist. She’d fed him and made him hunger all at the same time.

  He’d found his honor before she’d stripped herself bare, but it had been a close call. Even now he could remember just how she looked with only her bra covering her full breasts. His body had been unable to respond at the time, but it was more than able now. He had to clasp his hands in front of his groin to keep her from seeing what she did to him.

  She didn’t raise her voice. There was no heat in her tone, but that made it no less final. “I’m going with you. We all follow Brenya’s orders here. Even you. And she ordered me to show you where I saw the Hunters.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I’ll just have to find a way to change your mind.”

  Just as she had with him starving himself.

  If she started taking off clothes now, he was sure he wouldn’t be enough of a man to stop her. He’d wanted her for too long, and having her close again was almost too good to believe. Touching her—taking her—would definitely go a long way toward convincing him that this was all real and not some beautiful dream.

  Torr cleared his throat to keep a squeak from his voice. “Are you saying I should just give in?”

  “I’m saying I’ll meet you by the well after you’re finished eating. Don’t leave without me.”

  Clearly her mind was made up. And he was supposed to earn her trust somehow. He couldn’t do that from a distance, so Grace would go with him. But as soon as she showed him where to find the Hunters, he was bringing her right back. No way was he putting his sweet Grace in danger for one second longer than necessary.

  • • •

  Grace led Torr through the woods, relieved that his body was now covered. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself.

  Not that what she’d been able to find could really count as him being covered. She’d had to cut the sleeves off of a loose shirt that one of the larger women wore. After she sliced open the front to make room for the width of his shoulders and ribs, the shirt was more of a vest. It did nothing to hide his arms and little to hide his chest. Every time he walked, the edges parted, revealing that tantalizing image of the tree and the flashing, iridescent necklace.

  “What is that picture you wear?” she finally asked as she led the way to the area where she’d been collecting herbs yesterday.

  “It’s called a lifemark.”

  “Why that name?”

  “Partly because I was born with it, though it used to look a lot different. It’s grown as I’ve aged.”

  “It changed by itself?”

  “Yes.” The way he said it made it sound like he didn’t want to explain.

  His hesitance only made her more curious. “What’s it for?”

  “A reminder.”

  “Of?”

  “The passage of time. How precious every day is. My duty to use each one of those days to fulfill my vows.”

  “What vows?”

  “You certainly are full of questions.”

  “It’s going to take us a while to get back to where I saw the trail. We have to pass the time somehow.”

  “Not a fan of silence?” he asked.

  “It has its place. So do questions. What vows do your lifemark remind you to fulfill?”

  “To protect humans and guard the Gate to Athanasia.”

  “That’s where Brenya came from. And the women who come here to have their children.”

  She pushed past a low branch, holding it aside for him to pass. His big hand brushed hers as he took over the job, and she could have sworn she could feel that single accidental touch all the way up her arm.

  “Why do they come here to have their children?” he asked.

  “They’re special babies—ones who would be killed if the women were to have them at home.”

  “How are they special?” he asked.

  “I don’t know for sure. I hear things, but Brenya isn’t exactly the type of person who explains her actions. All I know is that these women are trying to help fight a war the only way they can. Time goes faster here than on Athanasia, so they’re only gone for a few days—a short enough time that the Solarc won’t discover them missing.”

  “Brenya will explain it to me,” he said, determination hardening his tone.

  Grace stifled a chuckle. “I don’t know what makes you think that, but good luck getting her to talk.”

  “She doesn’t get to make unilateral decisions like that. There are lives at stake, both Sentinels and humans.”

  It was obvious that Torr didn’t know Brenya at all, but some people had to learn everything the hard way. “I’ve never met another human. At least not that I can remember. Are they all as weak as me?”

  He took a long step and came up beside her, lifting low-hanging branches out of her way. “What makes you think you’re weak?”

  “Everything. Even the children here can outrun me, are stronger than me, and can go longer without food or rest. At first I thought it was because I’d been so sick, but Brenya said that’s just the way I’m made.” It had taken her a long time to get over the sting caused by that unintentional insult. “I’m not allowed to patrol at night. No one wants to spar with me. They’re all kind about it, but I know they all think I’m a weakling and that they’ll hurt me.”

  “Humans aren’t weak,” he said. “Neither are you.”

  “I have proof to the contrary. And based on your response, I’m guessing that we are weak and you’re just being nice, too.”

  “There are different kinds of strength. You have an adaptable nature that makes you nearly invincible. Your capacity for compassion is its own kind of magic. And you have a quiet force of will that rivals any I’ve ever seen.”

  “You say that like you know me.”

  He looked away and fell back in line behind her. “I know humans. And Brenya wouldn’t have brought you here and saved your life if you weren’t an exceptional one.”

  Something about that didn’t seem right, but they were nearly at the clearing where she’d spotted the Hunters.

  She slowed and lifted her finger to her lips to indicate the need to be quiet. They crept along, skirting the edge of the clearing where herbs grew, until she saw a mark in the dirt.

  Grace leaned toward him, going up on tiptoe to get as close to his ear as she could. “A Hunter left this mark.” She pointed to the print in the loose soil. The imprint was deep and jagged, showing where the bottom of the creature’s foot had sharp protrusions.

  A line led through the brush as if it had been cut by a sharp blade. Leaves and branches were severed cleanly, and as she leaned to change her line of sight, she could see exactly the way they’d gone.

  “They went that way,” she said, pointing.

  Torr nodded. He drew a sword that had been invisible only seconds ago. The sudden appearance of the weapon surprised her, forcing her back a few steps.

  He noticed her distress and lowered the blade away from her. Orange sky was reflected in the polished surface and winked off of an intricate netting of silver vines that formed the hilt and crossguard.

  His knuckles bulged with his tight grip. His skin shifted over bone and muscles along his forearms. The need to feel that masculine power flow through his limbs—to touch it with her fingertips—was almost unbearable.

  Grace wasn’t like the other girls in the village who chattered and cooed over wanting to stroke him. She had better things to think about than that. Sadly, she couldn’t remember a single one of them right now. Instead, all she could focus on was the subtle warming of her skin an
d the way her clothes suddenly felt too tight for her to breathe.

  “I’ll take you to the village, then come back and follow the trail,” he whispered close to her ear—close enough that she could feel the warmth of his words as they passed.

  She stifled a shiver. “No. It will take too much time.”

  “You can’t go back alone. It’s not safe.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to stay with you.”

  He scowled at that and opened his mouth to argue with her, but a soft rustling came from the south.

  Before she could even register that there was danger, Torr shifted his body so that he was between her and the sound. With his free hand, he held her behind him, silently ordering her to stay put.

  The rustling grew louder, closer. Grace’s heart started pounding hard enough that she was sure it would bruise her ribs.

  These Hunters hadn’t seen her before. She’d stayed silent and they’d slipped by, parting the low brush as they passed. All she’d seen was a jagged series of shiny black ridges peeking over the foliage, glittering with filtered sunlight.

  Even though she hadn’t seen much, she’d felt them, as if they left a cold fog in their wake. She’d been chilled to the bone, even after running back to the village. Her instincts had screamed at her the whole way, demanding that she go faster.

  Do not look back.

  The words had sounded in her head as clearly as if someone had been running beside her. It could have been Brenya, who often summoned her with a voice like that, but it sounded different. Almost afraid. And Brenya was never afraid.

  Torr stepped away, his footfall silent on the leaf litter. As thick as the brush was here, he could disappear within only a few steps.

  The idea of being out here alone again with those things was too terrifying to even consider.

  She shifted her weight to follow Torr, and before she could take so much as a step, his head turned and he gave her a hard amber stare.

  Stay. He mouthed the single word, and she froze in place, a strand of fear strumming inside her—one that had nothing to do with the Hunters in the woods. This was deeper, a part of her former self that she didn’t understand.