The SAVAGE Series, Books 1-3: The Pearl Savage, The Savage Blood and The Savage Principle

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  Randall felt terrible, she had nary the strength to empty her stomach. He had hurt her terribly and did not know how to fix it. He brought her to a glade underneath a stand of trees, towing his horse behind him. Gently, he laid her down upon the grass. He brought a flask with water out of his rucksack and cleaned her mouth. He held her head gently as she took small sips of water from him.

  She began to shake and he got the only blanket he had and covered her with it.

  Clara looked up at the giant who fed her water and could not believe she was held by the male who had tried to rape Anna. Her despair knew no boundaries. She knew that Matthew and Edwin would find her. She but needed to stall him here as long as possible. Moment by moment she felt slightly better.

  Randall looked down at her curiously and said, “Your wound heals.”

  Clara did not feel healed. She felt that her head had been crushed in a vise. However, she felt better than she had but moments before.

  “What do they call you?” Randall asked.

  “I am Clara,” she whispered out of a throat raw from vomiting. He moved to put the small pillow he had beneath her head and she flinched. He sighed. “I have told you that I will not abuse you further.”

  “I know who you are. You are the male of Anna's Band that she ran from. The one that nearly had his way with her,” she said, her voice raspy.

  He looked at her with disdain. “She is one of the females which tease the Band, they do not deserve our mercy.”

  Clara stared at him. It was then she realized he was quite mad.

  He reached out and touched the pulse which hammered in her throat. “So brave,” he crooned. “But your body betrays you.” His finger slid down between her breasts and she gasped, the heat from his touch licking along her breastbone. It should not have filled her with desire. It was an intimate betrayal that her body would not understand what her intellect shouted to her in fear.

  His eyes flicked to hers and he smiled, thinking she would see that they should be together. He gathered her to him and placed her on his lap and began stroking her hair. Eventually, when she offered no resistance, he pushed her down against the moss and covered her with his body, clasping her wrists in one of his large hands he put them above her head.

  Clara had never been so frightened in her whole life. He planned to rape her but not in the way of Prince Frederic. No, he planned to claim her so she could never be with another of her choosing. If he penetrated her then her ability to choose a proper spouse would be stolen forever.

  He kissed her, beginning at her injured temple and moving down her face. He buried his face in her neck and as he passed to place his face between her breasts she whimpered and he brought her in tighter against him. She shuddered within his grasp, feeling his knee part her legs. She tried to squirm but with her weakened condition she was horribly vulnerable.

  Dear Guardian, Clara thought, was this what her life was reduced to? All the struggles and hard-won triumphs for naught before the result of this crazed Band by happenstance stumbling upon her?

  Clara did not see the longsword as it whistled through the air but heard its descent and the widening of the male's eyes before his head was taken off his shoulders, the blade's deliberate arc missing her face by inches.

  Clara instinctively closed her eyes and in not so much as a week's time she was sprayed by yet another male's warm lifeblood.

  When she began to cough and choke it was Matthew that soaked the gills that sprung from her flesh in response to her adrenaline. The salted water allowed her breath to return to her in a gasping fit.

  He looked at her face then gathered her into his arms and stood, kicking the male's body away. Clara was dizzy as he walked and heard the voices of her brother and Edwin.

  “How does she fare?” Maddoc asked, jogging alongside him.

  “Whose blood?” Edwin asked as he thundered beside Matthew.

  But Matthew continued walking, never taking pause in his stride. As he neared his horse, Edwin restrained him with a hand on his arm. “Let me look upon her. Let us evaluate her condition.”

  Clara rolled her eyes to Edwin and he took in a swift breath. “That is a fearsome wound.”

  Matthew nodded tersely. “It is his blood which coats her. If you are done gawking, I would ready her for travel back to the clan.”

  Edwin's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening on Mathew's arm and Clara thought she would be torn apart again and said in a whisper, “Please, just take me from this place.”

  Matthew looked down at her, his face moving from anger to tenderness, Edwin glowering in the background.

  It was Maddoc that pressed them forward. “Do as she asks. My mother will know how to tend her. She is not as the rest of the Band. She has but a fraction of our strengths, she is fragile.”

  Edwin looked at her thoughtfully. “Mayhap not. As it seems to me that the wound mends as we watch.”

  They looked upon her and she closed her eyes. Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, she felt Matthew mount his horse.

  He whispered in her ear, “Can you stand a gallop?”

  She nodded against his chest. “Please, do not let me go,” she said as hot tears scalded her face and soaked his chest. He gripped her in his mighty arm, swinging the horse with one hand.

  “Never,” he said.

  They rode, her face pressed against his heartbeat.

  CHAPTER 24

  Many arms and hands carried Clara to a bed that welcomed her like a feathered nest. She was beyond tired. Her bones ached. She had been beaten, ridden a horse at a gallop with a head that felt like it was not her own, and was now back at the clan of her mother.

  When she opened her eyes, the comforting presence of Evelyn was the first that greeted her. Her lower lip trembled. “Oh Clara!” she cried, jarring Clara with her hug, a flare of pain in her head letting Clara know that she was not completely well.

  But it was Clara that comforted Evelyn, now an orphan, without family, save Clara and the members of the Band. And Maddoc, Clara noted, her eyes meeting his above the weeping girl. His gaze was latched to Evelyn's bent form. His eyes begged that she would not give him away. Clara would not. Nor did she want Evelyn played with. She had been through far too much to be trifled with.

  Evelyn finally pulled away and smiled through her tears. “We thought... We did not know...” and when Clara saw she may go into a fit of crying again, she grasped her hands and said, “I am fine. Do not fret.”

  “You do not look fine, Clara.”

  Clara knew this. With the blood of the rogue male covering her and the wound his fist had created, she was sure she was a sight. A blush of heat came over her when she realized she was in nothing but underwear. Her arms, bosom and half her legs were on display for everyone to see.

  Matthew came into the room and smiled when he saw that she was better. His expression changed when he noted her discomfort. “What troubles you?” Then he laughed realizing the ridiculousness of the question. “I meant, what troubles you at this moment?”

  “I realize I am wearing very little,” Clara answered, a new flush of heat creeping up her neck.

  “Aye. Yet, you live, sweet Clara. That is all that matters. Your state of clothing is of little importance.”

  “What is this obsession the sphere-dwellers have with being covered? It is confounding, given the season,” Maddoc said.

  Evelyn shrugged. “It is their way. But I did see Clara in bare feet a few days past,” she said, winking at Clara.

  It was true, Clara was losing her civility inch by insidious inch. But somehow, it did not feel wrong to her.

  Clara was saved by answering when Sarah rushed in. She threw her arms around Clara's neck and she cringed as fresh pain settled into her head again. “I do apologize! I should have been at the spring today! I was otherwise engaged and now you are here, abused again,” Sarah said as she slapped her own forehead.

  Clara immediately wondered if she had been with Clarence, who she
deemed a proper suitor or capturing a moment of stolen passion with Philip.

  Clara released her from her guilt handily. “He would have had more females to take or abuse. It is good that you were not.”

  Sarah looked at her thoughtfully, touching her head gently. “I am not so sure.”

  Clara held out her hand and Matthew came to her bedside, taking it. “You very nearly nicked me with your sword.”

  He gave a great smile and said, “Nay, I swung true.”

  “Very,” Clara said, nuzzling his hand with her cheek. It was at that moment that Rowenna, Bracus and Edwin entered.

  Matthew let his hand fall with a frown while the three of them crowded around her bedside and Evelyn and Sarah made room for them.

  Matthew stayed where he was.

  “Daughter,” Rowenna said, leaning down and kissing the least abused side of her face. “It is very good to see you again.” Her eyes held a sheen, Clara noticed.

  “It is very good to be here,” Clara responded sincerely.

  Bracus leaned over her and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It is well that the blood that you wear is his and not yours.”

  He turned to Matthew. “My brother,” and Clara saw him fight his emotions. “You did well this day. Edwin has told me he lives no more.”

  Matthew nodded.

  “He lost his head,” Maddoc said and laughed.

  Everyone looked at Maddoc who shrugged. Edwin began to laugh and then they were all hysterical, Rowenna having tears running down her face.

  “It is not funny in the least!” Evelyn said as she continued laughing, arms wrapping her ribs.

  It had the desired effect of relieving tension. The grave affair one for which the silliness of their laughter was the only cure.

  They all left save Rowenna. “What did he do to you, Clara?”

  Clara sucked in her lip, the images rifling through her head as playing cards. But she began simply, “He tried to rape Anna again,” she paused, looking at Rowenna who encouraged her with a nod. “When he was hurting her, I intervened by,” and Clara showed her with her hand what she had done and Rowenna winced, envisioning the scene. “He turned on me and used his fist to do this,” Clara pointed to her head. “It is a bit foggy after that but when I next had my wits about me I was lying in a glade with the wood all around,” Clara said, remembering. “Then he was kissing me and trying to...”

  “Did he?” Rowenna asked. “It is important.”

  Clara shook her head, then stopped at the pain that ensued with her movement.

  “Because...”

  “I understand, Rowenna. They finally told me about consummating with the Band.”

  Rowenna nodded. “If Rolland still lived, there would be no other. That he is gone frees me to be with another. The call of a male of the Band is fearsome.”

  “Why are we so few?” Clara asked fiercely, fresh resentment boiling inside her for this blood that governed her.

  She shrugged. “I know not.” She did not look away. “I am glad that Matthew reached you in time. We would not want you bound to another.”

  “He would have killed him regardless,” Clara said, knowing Matthew.

  “True. It is terrible to kill one of the Band. But his mind was gone, yes?”

  Clara thought of his strange words and soft actions, such a digression from the initial beating and shuddered. She nodded. “He was very strange. He beat me, then he was tender toward me. It was a confusing event.”

  Rowenna laughed. “I think frightening is more the way of it.”

  “Oh, it was that,” Clara shivered.

  They heard arguing outside her room and Rowenna held her finger up to Clara. Clara shrunk underneath the thin sheet which covered her.

  It was Charles, trying to barrel his way inside. Finally, after much discussion he burst inside. “Clara!” he cried. “Clarence and I were just told of your abduction by that heathen.”

  Clara winced at the name, knowing how rude it sounded to the people of the clan. He was obviously beyond caring as he began anew, “What has he done to your face?”

  Clara looked down at her hands which twisted about, the sheet held taut underneath her armpits. “He struck me whilst I tried to assist Anna.”

  “That loathsome brute! What has the Band done about it?” he seethed.

  “They have not told you?”

  “No. What measure have they taken?”

  Clara began to laugh, which grew into great gasping fits of laughter.

  “What could you possibly have to laugh about?” he asked, exasperated.

  “He will not be thinking about another attack again,” she choked out between fits of giggles.

  “This grows tiresome, Clara. Just tell me.”

  “He has lost all thought processes along with his head!” Clara whooped and continued laughing.

  Charles looked at her dumbfounded, his mouth hanging agape. Finally, when it was obvious she would not settle down, he began to laugh himself until Clara's laughter turned to tears and he came beside her and wrapped his arms around her, smoothing his hands up and down her bare arms.

  “I am here, Clara, do not cry. I am here,” he said.

  Clara sobbed like her heart was breaking, the last year's blur of activity culminating into terror. She had had enough of that in her young life.

  She clung to Charles and wished for normalcy, as her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

  A normalcy that escaped her.

  CHAPTER 25

  Maddoc worried at the handle of his dirk that hung high on his left hip, watching Evelyn. She was pacing around the outside of the room which Clara lay in, waiting until that insufferable sphere-dweller left. Why his sister was so enamored of his sentiments was beyond Maddoc. He and the other of the Band thought him a dolt. Maddoc wanted to comfort Evelyn but was unsure how. Just as he would make his way toward her Ella and Jocelyn approached him. He fumed. Mother had taught him to be kind to the females he was sworn to protect but this pair were his least favorite. They followed him around and hung about him like an ill-fitting tunic.

  He watched them fasten their eyes upon Evelyn and smirking, they came for him like twin leeches. Evelyn stopped her pacing and looked briefly at the young women as they advanced on him, then looked away. Maddoc seethed inside, he did not wish for Evelyn to presume he wanted their company. She had the blood of the Band running in her veins. Her very essence called to him. As of yet, she had not warmed to him though. He was waiting for her to notice him, show interest. After the way that fool Lee had behaved, he needed to prove all of the Band were not an insufferable lot of imbeciles.

  “Well, well, how fare you?” Jocelyn asked in her best attempt at seduction.

  Maddoc barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He was not impressed with her efforts, his eyes straying back to Evelyn.

  Ella sidled up beside him and put a warm hand upon his arm, pressing her breasts against him. It distracted him for a moment, his need to respect her warring with his desire to speak with Evelyn. A small noise made him look back at Evelyn. Lee was walking toward her and Maddoc forcibly removed Ella's hand from his arm.

  “Maddoc!” she cried, sulking.

  As he passed her Jocelyn said, “Do not go to her. She is not worth your time!”

  “I will be the judge of that, Jocelyn,” Maddoc said, never pausing as he moved toward Evelyn.

  Evelyn saw Lee walk toward her and her feet became rooted to the spot outside Clara's door. She was not some weak-kneed female but his pushy sexual advances were fresh in her mind. His hand on her breast was a charred memory seared into her brain. She hated herself for it but she looked to where Maddoc stood with the two witches of the clan. But he was moving toward her already. The relief that flooded her brought her shame. Evelyn desperately did not wish for him to know how he affected her. Nor did she want the two hussies that crawled after him to know either.

  Lee and Maddoc faced each other. “Why do you not walk away now, Lee
?” Maddoc asked in a pleasant voice that did nothing to veil the threat his voice held.

  Lee shook his head. “I come but to apologize to Evelyn.”

  Jocelyn and Ella strolled up. “She has told us what you did and we do not believe her. She thinks to gain some kind of false sympathy,” Jocelyn said, looking at Evelyn in feigned innocence.

  Lee frowned at her. “Mayhap you are right?” he said, giving Evelyn a narrow look.

  “I have told you, so, it must be true,” Jocelyn purred at him.

  Evelyn wished to vomit on the bodice of her revealing blouse.

  “Ooh, she looks so angry. See how her face puckers,” Ella said, trying to copy what she thought Evelyn's face looked like.

  Evelyn put her hands on her hips. “I have not uttered one word of untruth since my party has arrived. From whence I come the Band protects females. My Band protects females,” she gave an accusing glance at Lee.

  “You did not say 'do not'.” Lee shrugged in defense.

  “The blood from your lip was answer enough,” Maddoc said in a low voice, his hands curling into fists.

  “It is not an apology to agree with females as soft as these,” Evelyn said, raising her palm at the two women. “They believe their own deceit so it is truth to them. I know what real truth is and you offered me none of it one night past.”

  Evelyn gave a look to Maddoc and a curt nod. She turned her attention to the others and gave them a withering glance as she stalked off.

  *

  Evelyn felt hot tears burning the back of her eyelids and bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying. Those stupid females! She felt a fool. They were obviously beautiful and desired by the Band and she not yet ten and four. Why did they not treat her as a guest? Did they have no respect for Clara, the daughter of their Band leader? It made little sense.

  She walked into the woods, but not too far. She did not wish to be about without the Band. She looked around in the dim light of the wood and remembered how mindful a female needed to be of the fragment. She went deeper into the wood to a special place of respite that no one knew about.