by Alison Aimes
No wonder it felt like he’d been crushed by a mountain. He had.
The creature brayed as if pleased with himself. Turning forward once more, Nayla muttered soft, cooing sounds to the beast.
They reminded Grif a little too much of the sweet, sexy moans she’d once made for him.
“I need you to let me go.” He used his most calm and commanding tone. He couldn’t have been out too long. The moons were still high in the sky.
Back high and proud, she pretended not to hear.
“My team is not far behind. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea and attack you.”
This time, the look she threw over his shoulder was pure outrage. “Worry for you. I just fine.”
“This is not going to help our argument that you could be an ally, not an enemy.”
She shrugged.
He buried his growl deep in his throat. Channeled harmless. “I need to take a look at that ankle. It looked bad.”
She gave a small sniff—she could say a lot with a single dismissive sound—and rode on.
“What’s the plan here? Taking me will only make my crew more prone to attack, and they’re already distrustful enough. They don’t like that you sent a spy to observe the settlement. It’s making them itch to go to war, and can you blame them?”
“A pack spy? In your territory?” She didn’t bother turning around. “No.”
He scowled at her anyway. “What do you mean no? The evidence of an observer is unquestionable.” He might not like Malin, but he didn’t doubt the male’s skills.
“May be an observer, but not pack.”
His silence said it all.
“It true.” She whipped around, her expression confident. “Talg rule: pack forbidden from entering Other territory.”
“You did.”
“I not real pack.”
If he wasn’t tied up, he probably would have felt like an ass for reminding her of her pain. But he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “That Ramm guy was in Other territory,” he pointed out. “There may be other exceptions, too.”
“Ramm looking for me. Against Talg order. He only one brave enough risk such thing.”
“He didn’t look so brave.”
“Hmmm.” She sent him a knowing stare.
He stared right back. Yes, he was an ass for feeling jealous at the way she said the hunter’s name Sure, he’d been happy someone else was looking out for Nayla, but hells, did it have to be a fucker who looked like he could kick Grif’s ass?
“No other exceptions to pack ban from Other territory.” Nayla had already returned to the initial topic. “Talg plan is use females to draw you to pack land. Fight where pack have advantage. After what happen with his mate, he never come to Other land, or allow his real pack there. I certain. There may be spy at settlement, but not pack.”
Hells. That was important intel. He doubted the commander would accept the explanation so easily, but he did.
He knew Nayla. He knew when she skirted the truth. He knew when she told it. She was telling him what she believed. Of course, that didn’t make it so, but she made a compelling case, which left him wondering just who the hells else might be out there spying on the settlement, and why?
He’d need to get word to Ryker and the commander.
Of course, first he had to get himself the fuck free.
“Nayla, enough is enough. Stop this beast, untie me, and let me help you.”
Her spine snapped straighter. “You not in charge now. I do fine on my own.”
“And when my crew catches up with us? They’re already paranoid you’re planning to warn your pack and make it harder to rescue the females.”
A quick yank on the beast’s harness and the animal jerked to a halt. “I do this to save pack and females.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “You think I weak. I not. I don’t need your handling or approval. You think because I don’t speak your language so well, I’m not smart. You are wrong. I have plan. Rescue females. Return them to you. You take them back. Leave pack alone. No need for blood shedding.” Her ears twitched. “A lot kinder than what you people do.”
He hid a flinch and conceded, “It’s a good plan.”
He’d known his crew’s suspicions were off base. And maybe he was a little guilty of some of the accusations she was leveling his way, but there was still a problem with her plan.
“It’s just too risky,” he concluded.
“Of course, you say that.”
“You’ll have to evade my men. Sneak by your own pack. Somehow get the females out of where they’re being kept and back to my people without Talg discovering what you’re up to… And what will you do if any of the females are sick? Or hurt? It’s too much for one person. There’s more chance of success if you let me help.”
He got it. She thought she had to handle everything alone.
He’d shown her he could tear down her defenses, but he hadn’t yet proven he could be there for her, too. He would. He just needed to figure out how.
“Help me?” She echoed his words, her voice shaded with disdain as she gave a gentle tap to the beast’s hindquarters and halted him in place. She slid off the beast and stood in front of Grif, hands on hips.
Sharluff pawed the ground as if sensing her agitation.
“Help me like before?”
Grif shimmied forward an inch, torqueing his body upward so he could stare back. “I was trying to extract information.” His voice deepened without him intending it to. “I can be very helpful when I’m so inclined.”
Heat flared in her gaze, a match to his own. Apparently, it didn’t matter who was tied up, or what grievances were still raw, the chemistry between them was as explosive as ever.
“Untie me. Now.”
She reached toward the binds at his back, her trembling hand skimming his cheek. Triumph surged. He’d done it. He’d convinced her.
Except she bypassed his roped wrists, flicked at a knot, and jerked on the beast’s neck harness twice in quick succession.
Without warning, his ride brayed, pitched to one side, and shed Grif like a bad case of extra pounds.
The ground rose up fast. Without his hands, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
With a grunt, Nayla caught him. Sort of. Stumbling back, she landed on her ass, dragging him forward and slowing his descent so that his chest and belly, rather than his head, hit the dirt. He ended up with his upper body cradled between her thighs, his chin on her bare stomach.
Not the worst place to be.
Red dust billowed around them.
Their gazes locked. Heat crackled between them. His dick hardened as the scent and feel of her hit home. He’d missed both.
“That was kind, but foolish. You could have been hurt.” He checked her over as best he could with two arms tied behind his back. “You’re too small to catch me.”
Chin rising in defiance, she ignored his concern. “We stop here.”
“I do like this particular spot.” He could have rolled, caught her between his thighs, and squeezed hard enough to incapacitate or crush her. But hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, he nuzzled the tiny patch of skin laid bare when her shirt had ridden up. “I missed you, Nayla.”
She stilled. Then sucked in a sharp breath.
Two hands landed on his shoulders and pushed. She squirmed from beneath him, accusation and uncertainty simmering in her gaze as she hobbled to standing. “Th-this cliff hard to travel without Sharluff. We safe from your people for little while.”
“You’ll always be safe with me. Doesn’t matter who else is around.”
Her scowl deepened. She’d retreated behind her walls. He might have torn the old ones down, but she’d built her new ones just as high. Luckily, breaking things down was his forte.
“What happened between us is nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolled onto his side and used the rock at his back and the heels of his boots to leverage himself into a sitting position. Not his smoothest of moments but, sadl
y, far from his worst.
The prick of a jagged edge at his back indicated he’d chosen his position well. Still, it wasn’t going to be easy. His ropes were thick and she hadn’t been overselling it when she said she was good at knots.
He was glad for the moonlight. It let him see not only her but also his surroundings. She’d brought them to a high cliffside on the south side, lots of craggy crevices, shadows, and sharp, pointed high rocks that blocked them from view. It was a smart location for staying out of sight.
As he surveyed the place, she turned away and limped to Sharluff, drawing supplies from the pack slung over the beast’s body.
“You need to stay off that ankle.”
“No walk, no food. No walk, no survive. No walk, no rescue missing females.” She dropped his fire starter less than an arm’s length from his legs.
She hadn’t been quite so feisty when he’d had her spread on his lap.
He wasn’t sure which side of her he liked more. Luckily, he planned to be spending a lot of time getting to know both.
He settled against the rock, resting the back of his head and squinting against the moons’ light as he looked up at her. “Let me at least look at it. Maybe splint it. I don’t want it to heal wrong.”
She held his gaze for a long time.
He already knew she wasn’t used to people caring for her. When he thought of how many injuries she’d probably tended on her own, no one giving a shit if she was in pain, he wanted to kill someone.
He stared right back, letting her see everything that was in his gaze. There’d never been anything but honesty and raw emotion between them. He refused to allow that to change because of her fear and a few overheard words said in the heat of the moment.
It took a while, but she finally limped closer. “N-no tricks. Sharluff guarding.”
“You’ll always be safe with me, baby. I told you that before.” Looking up, his gaze traveled the length of her thighs and the shadowed sweetness hidden just beneath his shirt. His fingers twitched, the need to touch her near overwhelming.
He told himself to get a grip and dropped his gaze to her ankle, his mood sobering. There was purple bruising and teeth marks he hadn’t noticed before, but it actually didn’t look as if anything vital had been harmed. “I’m sorry that happened. Sorry, too, I wasn’t there. That changes now. From here on out, it’s us against them.”
“You my prisoner. No us.”
“Does it hurt?”
She was silent for a moment, as if weighing the costs, but eventually she spoke. “A little. I put paste on it. Getting better. Other attack make worse again.”
He wanted to kill the bastards all over again. “Would wrapping it help?”
She considered. “No. I put more paste. Then let work. Swelling go down again.”
“Okay.” It was hard to remember she’d been taking care of herself for a while now. “I’d like to see how you make this paste of yours. I don’t know much about the plants and elements here and it would be great to pick up some new healing techniques.”
She stood taller. “Yes. I show you. My pack have many good skills.”
He shot her a genuine smile. “We’ve got a lot we can teach each other. You and me…and our people, if we work together.”
She started to nod, then frowned. “Praise. Approval.” Her gaze narrowed, her expression a mask of outrage—and so much pain and uncertainty it made his chest tight. “You trying to use my weaknesses to fool me again.”
Frustration sharpened his tone. “It’s the truth.”
“I don’t need anymore your truths. I learn enough about myself already. And thanks to you, I no longer going to let need for approval weaken me.”
“Good.” He meant it. “Untie me not to please me, but because you know it’s the smart thing to do.”
Her ears twitched. “You say you not give me good enough reason to stick around before and this time you do better. This not better. This the same. Praise. Demands. Sneaky words. Expectation that I bend to you. Those no reasons for me to free you. You want different result? Change.”
She half marched, half limped her way back to the other side of the supplies.
He smothered a curse.
Change? To what?
For a male who liked control, who liked his path laid out and his choices black and white, the thought was not pleasant. He didn’t like being unsure. He didn’t like not having a clear plan.
But he did have determination—and the uncontrollable pull between them that flared even now.
That, at least, he could work with.
28
Nayla laid out the stalks she’d collected. She did her best to ignore the seething male whose gaze tracked her every move, a white-hot burn of awareness against her skin.
Even tied up, he assumed control.
No wonder. Every time she remembered how she’d panted and begged, thrusting her hips toward his thick, scarred fingers, she could barely breathe. Shame and need enough to drown her worse than Talg’s cleansings ever had.
Her captor had mastered her so easily, and the truth was, even now, she ached to follow his commands and feel his skin against hers.
No! She could not allow herself to be confused by his words or touch again.
Except she hadn’t expected him to kill for her. Or worry over her ankle.
She hadn’t expected her heart to slam against her chest when she thought Sharluff had hurt him. Or the fire between her thighs that sparked from simply looking at his wide chest, flexing muscles, and glittering predator eyes.
Ancients help her, she wanted to walk to where he sat, drop to her knees, and beg him to torment her like before. To take away the pain and confusion, if only for a few heartbeats, and replace it with sheer, uncomplicated pleasure. To make her writhe and beg and surrender to his strength and the bliss of his rough hands and rumbled commands.
She wanted to plead with him to turn his words into truth and make them into allies, to care for her, if only for a short while.
She’d been alone for so long, and his promises filled her with a sweetness more satisfying than a bellyful of the rarest taza berries.
But she could not afford to be so desperate for acceptance and approval that she made the same mistake she had with Talg, acquiescing to a stronger force simply because she feared being alone.
She could not afford to let her weaknesses distract her from the truth: Grif wanted to take away her choice. She refused to allow anyone to do that to her ever again.
Except it wasn’t easy. Not when he was leaning against the rock, his pose casual even as his gaze locked on to her. His skin glowing in the firelight, the position of his hands tied behind his back putting his chiseled chest and stomach on display, showcasing every astonishing muscle. His raw strength always made her lungs squeeze and her nipples tight.
“You almost done pretending to poke at that already flaming fire?” His amused words almost made her drop her flint. “We need to get cleaned up and hydrate. I have water in my pack. Though it won’t cool you off like I could.”
Ancients help her, he knew.
She should have expected no less. She’d never been able to keep secrets from him.
Purposely giving the fire a few more good pokes to keep the air circulating, she took the time to regain her composure before turning to face him.
“We save your water.” Rising, she went to free Sharluff from where she’d tied him. “He want to stop here, so water near. He good at find it.”
Calm. Reasonable. Commanding. She might have little experience with being in charge, but she was going to learn.
Grif wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. He wanted to hold her. Touch her. Ease the ache he could tell was making her squirm, even now.
But that wasn’t happening anytime soon, especially with Nayla’s mountain-sized bodyguard nearby, watching his every move. He was going to have to do something about that animal at some point. But for now, his sole focus was on taming the other wi
ld creature in his midst.
This caretaking business was as complicated as expected. He had no clue what she really wanted. Only that he was doing it wrong.
He hadn’t been able to get through to his sister, either. After that first time with their father, she’d just drifted farther and farther away. No matter how much he tried to take care of her. Near the end, she’d been like a walking zombie. He’d brushed her hair, fed her. It didn’t matter. Nothing roused her. Nothing brought her back to him. She’d been lost to him.
He could not allow that to happen with Nayla.
Panic rose, a feral beast that clawed up his chest and into his throat. He shoved it back down. Nayla wasn’t his sister and he wasn’t the weak young boy he’d been back then. He was stronger now, harder, more ruthless. He could take care of Nayla far better than he ever had his sister.
He just had to make her see that.
At Nayla’s command, the creature squawked and shied to the side, sticking his long, sharp beak between two rock crevices, rooting back and forth.
Squawk. The sharp sound drew his full attention. A few more pokes with that long beak and a small bubble of dirt shot upward, followed by a stream of pink water. It gushed upward, far above his head, sending moon-kissed water droplets shimmering in the air before arcing downward to soak new ground.
“Holy hells.” Grif’s resentment toward the feathered beast lessened. After the fight, Nayla was covered in dirt and bruises and he suspected he had splatters of blood on him, too. A real shower would be amazing.
He shoved to his feet. “He really is good at that.” It had to be an underground well, close enough to the surface for the beast to smell. A neat trick, especially in an environment like Dragath25. He and his crew had assumed this place was dry as a desert. Turns out they hadn’t been looking in the right places, or known there were animals that were useful for more than food.
“Yes.” Nayla looked proud. “Sharluff clever.”
They both watched Mr. Clever pace through the self-made fountain, feathers ruffling, his beak poking at the air. Then, with a sharp series of clicks, Nayla called her beast to heel and turned to him. “You go.”