Escaping the Beasts (The Hybrid Trilogy Book 2)

by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  I ran to him and fell into his arms. He wrapped them around me protectively, gently before pulling away to palm my cheek. His hand was smooth against my skin and it calmed my nerves instantly. He always had that effect on me and I couldn't quite possibly fathom why. Was it his hypnotizing beauty or just his gentle caring? Maybe both. It didn't seem to matter in that instant. All that mattered was that he was there. And he was alive.

  "I was worried about you guys." I kissed the inside of his wrist. He shivered.

  "Don't worry about us, princess. We're fine. They took us to their doctors for revision and blood samples to check for possible diseases in our systems. They've been surprisingly accommodating, giving us rooms, baths and food." He shrugged a shoulder.

  "They didn't hurt you?" I gripped his wrist tightly. If Akir or his men had hurt mine, I'd kill them.

  "Rest easy, princess." Kael kissed my forehead, calming the fire that had built up in me. "The only thing damaged is River and Lex's pride."

  "And yours?"

  He chuckled and the sound was low and tantalizing. "My pride is rarely wounded," he confessed.

  I nodded and pulled away, looking him over. To double check. To make sure he was truly fine. He appeared to be whole and healthy. "How did you escape?" I asked.

  "I didn't escape. They let me out to see to your wound. Now come," he tugged gently at my arm and sat me on a chair at the table. I noticed the medical kit there for the first time. It wasn't his. He'd left his kit back at the train station when we'd arrived. He looked my arm over, making worried clucking noises before digging through the bag to pull out the necessary supplies. "You'll need stitches," he explained. "Luckily I don't have to pull any bullets out. I wish they'd let me get my own kit back. The cream would have patched this up quicker than stitches will." He shrugged absently and then he got to work.

  His hands were gentle on my skin. Even when he stuck the needle through me and sewed up my wound, he was ever so careful.

  I watched him from behind hooded lids as he worked. I liked watching him. His dark lashes were long, curving on the tops of his cheeks. His brown skin was smooth, so smooth I had the sudden urge to press my lips to it, to dart my tongue out and lick him over every inch.

  He was so engrossed in his actions. His fingers worked with expertise. It made me realize how little I knew about him. How little I've spoken to him.

  "How old are you, Kael?"

  He tightened at some stitches and answered smoothly, "Thirty-one, princess."

  Thirty-one. I mulled the number over in my mind. He was certainly older than my twenty-one and River's twenty-three.

  "Well, you don't look ancient." I pointed out.

  Kael chuckled slightly. "Amazing what regular exercise and a healthy diet can accomplish."

  "Huh," I mused, "and why are you a healer?"

  Kael didn't pause. He didn't even blink. He remained concentrated on the task and didn't answer until he was done.

  "When I was younger," he began, putting the needle and thread to the side, "my village became infested with the yellow plague."

  The yellow plague, I knew, infected the host giving them sickly, yellow skin, fever and had them withering away until they died a painful death. Without the help of technology and vaccines, it was a deadly thing.

  "I lived with my parents, but they soon became infected. They put all the sick in the hospital. For some reason, I was immune to the disease." He shrugged and began putting the supplies back into the kit. "The healers needed as much help as they could get, so I volunteered. I'd hoped that if I did, it'd heal my parents."

  He was quiet a long moment, prompting me to ask, "Did it?"

  He looked at me sadly. "No."

  I reached for his hand for comfort. If my parents contracted the plague...I couldn't even imagine what he'd felt. And so young. I intertwined our fingers and he gave me a squeeze.

  "But their deaths gave me motivation to learn the art of healing. The doctor ended up training me and when I learned all I could from him, I traveled from village to village, helping those I could, and learning from those I could."

  That's what I liked most about Kael. He was selfless. Kind. Caring. Gentle. I'd never been attracted to that type of man before. The sensitive, quiet kind. But Kael was different somehow. And I didn't even know why.

  "Does it bother you?" I whispered, stroking my fingers against the back of his hand.

  "Does what bother me, princess?"

  I shrugged a shoulder, not even knowing why I asked what I did. I'd vowed not to explain myself, not to demand answers for my attraction to all of these men. But here I was, wondering why sweet Kael would tolerate it.

  "Does it not bother you that I feel an attraction to so many men?"

  I held my breath and waited for his response. It seemed to be a long while before he answered, his voice as leveled and as soft as ever. "I told you before, princess, that you do not need to feel ashamed. The feelings coursing through you are entirely normal."

  I snorted. "Right, normal."

  "They are. You may not believe it, but humans are a lot like animals, who often seek more than one mate. It is only in our nature."

  I pondered that for a moment. I supposed he was right. My attraction to them was nothing I should be ashamed of. "And you don't mind, do you? Being my mate?"

  The side of Kael's lip quirked up into a tiny hint of a smile. "I can assure you, Princess Keanna, I would not be here if I did not want to be with you."

  The breath caught in my throat before I leaned forward, framing his face between my hands and pressed my mouth against his. It was a soft mesh of lips that suddenly became more passionate. He opened his mouth to me and I delved in deeper, letting my tongue tangle with his. I was in control of the kiss.

  His hands went to my waist, pulling me closer. He moaned, hands fisting into the material of the towel around my body, so tightly I thought it'd fall from me entirely.

  "Is her wound fixed, then?"

  We broke apart quickly and I turned, seeing Helga by the front door of the bedroom, one long leg propped up against the wall and her arms crossed against her chest.

  I wondered how long she'd been there.

  Kael cleared his throat, though not awkwardly. "Of course," he said quietly and closed the medical case. He cast me one last smile before taking the case and walking out of the room where I was sure guards were waiting for him.

  Helga stared at me, a mysterious twinkle in her eye. I had no doubt she'd be reporting back to Akir what she'd seen. And I wondered how he'd react. Violently? Would he be angry that his fiancée was involved with not one but two other men? I wasn't sure what was between me and Lex, if there was anything between us at all. There was chemistry there, certainly, but we hadn't so much as kissed.

  I vowed if Akir did find out and get upset, I'd not feel guilty or struggle to explain my life to him. Not when he'd kidnapped my mother for whatever deranged reason he'd done it.

  "Let's get you dressed then, princess." Helga detached herself from the wall and went to the closet. She threw the doors open and pulled out a bundle of clothing that she tossed to the bed. "Put those on quickly and I'll do your hair and makeup."

  I stood and walked over to the bed. "I don't do makeup." I stated, stopping just at the edge. I lifted up the clothes she'd picked out and frowned at the offerings. "There's no underwear," I pointed out impatiently.

  Helga merely chuckled. "I guess Akir didn't think you'd need them."

  I scoffed, tossing down the towel to get dressed. "Doesn't seem like Akir does much thinking…" Grumbling, I pulled on the black leather pants. They were a tight fit and hugged my every curve. I'd never worn something so snug. The top wasn't much better. It was a leather vest, cut off at the waist to reveal my stomach. I zipped the front of it up, though it wouldn't go up all the way.

  "Let me help you." Helga came up
before me and began pressing her hands all over my chest, unzipping the vest and pushing my breasts up before zipping it up again.

  I stared down at the curves of my swollen breasts. "That's better, is it?" I muttered sarcastically. She'd told me she was going to get me clothes suited to my tastes. She'd obviously lied.

  Helga ignored me and pulled me over to the vanity table, sitting me before it.

  I stared at my reflection and at Helga in the mirror as she began pulling out an assortment of makeup and brushes and then got to work. I wanted to protest. I didn't wear makeup and wouldn't start now but any complaints I'd make would only fall on deaf ears. My protests didn't matter.

  I was just a prisoner here.

  After what felt like hours of being pulled and poked everywhere, she was finally done and I couldn't help but gape at my reflection.

  I'd never worn makeup before so the sight of me in it was rather dazzling. I tried not to be impressed. I tried not to be happy at the change in me. At what I looked like in Ruined City attire.

  My usually nappy hair had been fluffed over one shoulder, the curls spiraling and bouncing. Helga had braided the other side, tucking them behind my ear.

  My face seemed not my own. Freckles still dotted over my skin by the dozens. But Helga had taken black kohl and rubbed it around my eyes. It accentuated my bright blue eyes...made me look fierce.

  I looked so different.

  "Now you look the part of a future queen, lass."

  His words rippled down the length of my spine like the whisperings of a dark promise. I turned slowly and found him standing by the door. His arms were crossed, shoulder leaning against the door frame. His piercingly bright eyes looked me over, lingering on my breasts.

  He reeked of danger. And arrogance. And it tightened my insides entirely.

  "Leave us," he demanded.

  Helga cast me a wink before she sauntered out; Akir closed the door behind her and took a step further into the room. He didn't blink as he took me in. As he detailed my every crevice into his brain. His gaze was all too challenging, daring.

  "If you're done staring at me, can we cut to the chase?" I asked rudely, standing from my seat. I didn't want to admit that he made me nervous.

  "Then by all means," he gestured towards the table. I moved past him and went straight towards it, but didn't take a seat. I'd brave him standing.

  Akir came up beside me and I tried not flinching back from his proximity. His body was warm. I moved discreetly away from him just as he pulled out a file from the backs of his jeans and tossed it onto the table. Papers scattered across it, drawing my eyes to them and the images printed on them.

  Photographs were rare.

  And all of these were of me.

  I placed my hands at the edge of the table and leaned over it to get a better look. Dozens of photographs of me at my village. I looked them over. Some were of me in my best velvet dressing gown at the harvest festival, though most of them were shots of me in shorts and jeans surrounded by my father, my brothers and one of me and River. In one photo, I was holding my bow and arrow in the woods, aiming at my kill.

  I remembered every instant of these pictures. What I couldn't recall was when they'd taken them. Or who. No one in my village owned a camera.

  "What is this?" I whispered.

  "Keanna Ferguson, age twenty-one, first born descendant of Kyle and Mary Breanna Ferguson," he recited, spreading the pictures further across the wooden table. His finger stayed pressed against the picture of me and River. It was an innocent enough photograph. River was leaning over me, hands resting on my shoulders and I was laughing at something he'd said. "The princess proves to be a skilled archwoman and is considered the best shot in her village. She is an expert in combat and a great tracker and huntress."

  My face heated at the praise, at the way his deep voice curled around each word. "You've stalked me," I said, my voice a husky rasp.

  He looked down at me. "You didn't think I'd marry just anyone, did you, lass? I had to see."

  My eyes caught his and held them. "See what?"

  "If you were worth it."

  I had to turn my face away from his then. It suddenly hurt to look at him. I looked over the images on the table again and picked one up. One of me and my mother. My fingers went to her face. Stern, demanding like she always was. My throat tightened.

  "Why did you take my mother, Akir?" I asked, looking back to him. Looking at her picture hurt worse.

  Akir never once tore his gaze from mine. His voice was soft and sincere when he replied, "I didn't take your mom, lass."

  Chapter Three

  "Don't lie." I tightened my fingers around the picture, grinding my teeth. The sadness, the pain inside me sunk as another emotion surfaced. Rage.

  "I'm not lying."

  "Stop. Lying."

  Akir looked at me with pity. "Why would I lie, lass? We are meant to be married. What benefit is it to me if I'd taken your mother?"

  "I don't know!" I threw my hands up in frustration. "To make sure we went along with the alliance? To ensure that we didn't back out of the marriage?"

  "The engagement had been decided nearly four months ago. If I'd wanted to kidnap your mom, I would've done so then."

  I staggered at his words. Four months. Four months it had been decided I would wed into the Murtaugh family and I'd only heard about it days before. They'd kept so much from me. But being angry with them seemed impossible now.

  "I don't know if I believe you…" I said with uncertainty.

  He sighed with exasperation. "Think, lass. If I already thought the alliance was set, why take her? Why risk it?"

  "Because you're Ruined City filth and you need no excuse to do the things you do."

  He was whipping me towards him before I even breathed the last word. There was fury in his eyes that he did not control. Fury that frightened me and made my knees tremble. He pushed me tightly against the table so I was trapped, my lower back digging painfully into the wood. He caged me in, placing his arms on either side of me.

  "Don't you ever speak ill of my kingdom again. Do so and you will not find me quite as lenient as I have been."

  I gulped, feeling the threat stab to my core. He meant every word. I didn't doubt it. "We searched for her." I felt panic in my chest. If he didn't have her, then who did? "There were motorcycle tracks…"

  "And only those in the Ruined City have motorcycles?" He scoffed and my face heated.

  "But, Lex said-"

  "Lex," he interrupted. "This is the same fool who led you straight towards my officials when you were meant to keep a low profile? How very reliable." His face bent lower until it was only inches from mine. "But I am under the belief that the bigger idiot is that who follows another idiot."

  My hand shot out so fast, he didn't see it coming. The slap resonated around the bedroom. My breathing was erratic and angry, harsh. He eyed the rise and fall of my chest before smiling. It only made my rage boil hotter.

  "Don't ever speak about me or my companions like that again. Filthy bastard."

  His own eyes flared hotly and that, not my own rage, was what melted my insides into liquid. It made me suddenly too aware of his presence, of his proximity. Of the danger he radiated and most of all, I was all too aware of how much I wanted him in that moment.

  "Get one thing straight now, wife," he said menacingly, lowering his mouth until I felt the whispering warmth of his breath against my lips. "I am not River. Or Kael. Or Lex. I will not bow to your every whim and wish. And," his lips brushed across mine and I felt the molten fire ignite within me at the contact, "I will not be gentle." And then his lips came crashing down to mine.

  The scrape of his beard against my skin was rough and welcomed. His tongue in my mouth was violently demanding. The clash of teeth, mouth and tongue was rough and angry. And I accepted every bit of it. Every bit of him.
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  I arched and writhed against him, hands going inside the lapels of his leather jacket to touch at the skin there. First with my fingers, then my nails trailed pathways down his chest, circling his nipples, going around to his back.

  Akir broke away from me, his breathing as rapid and uncontrolled as my own. His hands went to my hips, bare skin against skin that had me shuddering. Then he whipped me around so he was behind me and pressed his chest to my back.

  My gasps froze in my throat.

  His hands fisted my hair, digging into the roots. He tugged so my neck arched up and then his lips were there. Tongue trailing down my sensitive skin made me tremble despite myself. He chuckled triumphantly against me.

  "Bastard," I gasped.

  His reply was to grind his hips into my ass. I felt the hard press of his erection through my clothes and my mouth went dry while warmth pooled between my legs.

  I jerked back into him and then he was bending me over the table. I sucked in a breath of surprise, pressing my palms against the surface of it to keep me steady as one of his hands went to the front of my pants. He unbuttoned them with surprising dexterity and began pulling them past my hips.

  I cursed lowly.

  His fingers tightened in my hair. "Call me all the names you like, lass," he rasped from behind me. "It won't matter in the end." His fingers trailed lightly over my sex, brushing my clit just before he shoved his fingers inside me. I cried out, tightening my hands into fists as his fingers moved inside of me. I moved against him, riding his hand in desperate need for release and nearly wept when he removed his fingers. "Because in the end, you will always want me."

  I opened my mouth to argue. To curse. To groan. I wasn't sure because somehow, he was out of his own jeans already, hot and slick against my ass. It made my head reel.

  And when he thrust inside of me from behind, I felt my composure shatter. I gasped as he began thrusting his hips roughly against me, holding my ass steady with the calluses of his fingertips with one hand and tugging at my curls with the other.