by Vonna Harper
Instead of measuring the distance between him and the lakeshore, he recalled Tau’s and Sukimo’s reaction to what he’d told them about seeing a bird that flew so fast it was nothing but a blur—and an expert killer. They’d been both excited and nervous but had refused to explain why his description mattered so much to them.
What hadn’t they shared with the others? Maybe a warning from the spirits about small predatory birds capable of killing humans?
This was insanity! He wasn’t afraid of a bird. And he certainly had nothing to fear from a naked woman with long, black hair, a straight back, and womanly hips.
After mentally shaking his head, he studied the distance between them. They were too far apart for a dart to reach her, but among his arrows were two with tips he’d soaked in paralyzing brine. If she was on land, he’d have no hesitancy about using one, but if he fired it now, he’d have to hurry to make sure she didn’t drown before he reached her.
Of course, he could wait until she was done with whatever task or whim had taken her into the water, but what if others of her kind arrived? He’d be compelled to fight them, which meant she’d escape. Another possibility struck him. Even if no one came upon them, she might spot him. If she was as strong a swimmer as she appeared, what was to stop her from setting off for a distant shoreline?
He was still debating that possibility when she lifted her arms over her head and leaned forward. Her lean form sliced into the water and she disappeared. Cursing, he took off at a hard run, reaching behind him for one of the treated arrows as he did.
After too long a period of time, she appeared again, arms moving smoothly and legs beating against the water’s surface. He nearly made the mistake of firing and probably wasting his weapon when inspiration struck. Still running, he yelled.
As he hoped, she stopped swimming and turned toward him with just her face and arms showing. Pulling back on the bow and sighting down his arrow, he held his breath and fired. At first the arrow sped just above the surface at a slight downward angle. Then, as he’d planned, it struck the water. That caused it to change direction slightly but it would still reach its target.
Not waiting to see her reaction, he dropped his weapons and plunged into the lake. Water closed around his legs, slowing him. From this angle, he could no longer see her arms. However, her head remained above water, letting him know that the poison hadn’t yet entered her system. He didn’t for a moment doubt that his arrow had struck her; he didn’t miss.
As soon as he was deep enough, he started swimming. His powerful arms cut through the water, and his legs propelled him forward. Still, he wondered if he’d reach her in time. And if he didn’t…
Refusing to give freedom to thoughts of having to repeatedly dive in an attempt to retrieve her, he acknowledged how cold the water was. The unexpected chill left no doubt how deep the lake was here or how quickly the bottom dropped away.
Damnation. She might drown.
Strength surged through him. He now likened himself to a fish cutting effortlessly through the water, but he wasn’t one. Instead, he was a man suddenly afraid that a valuable life might be lost. Even as he ordered his body into rhythm, he once more questioned why both his shaman and lord had been so determined to get their hands on a Wilding. Untamed the way she was now, she had almost no value.
Beyond her sleek limbs and glossy hair, he corrected. Beyond her unabashed nudity. Beyond her breasts and hips and that sweet, dark space he knew existed between her legs.
He wasn’t sure he’d reached the exact spot where he’d last seen her, but he had to be close. Stopping, he treaded water as he looked around. It was impossible to determine whether the small waves and bubbles were caused by his movement or whether she was responsible for any of them. What most concerned him was that he saw no dark hair, no thrashing or even floating arms.
Needing to do something, he swam in a circle while reaching out as best he could with both arms and legs. By the time he’d completed the circuit, he was cursing himself for his rash action. Why hadn’t he waited for her to come to shore before immobilizing her? It couldn’t be because he half believed she’d set her sights on the shore far from where she’d gone in. No mortal could swim that far, could they?
Mortal?
He’d just begun another circle, wider this time, when something above him caught his attention. Looking up, he spotted a bird hovering some thirty feet over the lake and slightly to his right. Even as he told himself the small, gray bird’s actions didn’t concern him, he changed course. He stopped when he was directly beneath the bird, then curled his body into as tight a ball as possible and pushed down into darkness. His fingers reached out, fighting the water’s resistance. Before long, the effort used up the air in his lungs. Still, he delayed heading for the surface.
His lungs screamed, and strength seeped from his muscles. Then, just as he acknowledged he’d gone as far as he could, his fingertips brushed something. He closed a thumb and forefinger over whatever it was.
Hair.
Pushing down yet again, he ignored his burning muscles. More strands glided over the backs of his hands, prompting him to grab them. Hair filled the palm of his right hand. Holding on with his dying strength, he executed a far from graceful turn, hauling his burden with him. His left arm clawed at the water that was killing him. Every time he kicked, his feet brushed something warm and soft. Dark pain filled his head, and fear took bites out of what remained of his sanity.
Let her go. Save yourself.
But because his actions had sent her on death’s journey, he couldn’t.
By the time he broke the surface, every inch of his body was on fire. Drinking in all the air his lungs could hold, he treaded water. Only when he trusted his body to obey his commands did he pull the woman’s lean and limp body up next to his, careful to keep her head above water.
Turning her toward him, he shifted his hold so a hand was under her armpit. He brushed her hair out of her face and then placed the back of his hand against her nose.
She wasn’t breathing, wasn’t even trying to.
As a warrior-in-training he’d been taught how to place his mouth against a drowning victim’s and push air into the victim’s lungs, but if he tried that now, they’d both sink beneath the surface.
Time. Time was seeping away from them.
Turning her so her back was against his chest, he looped his arm over her breasts, his fingers gripping her armpit again. As soon as he was certain his hold was secure, he started for shore. She rested against his side, the back of her head on his chest and her face out of the water. Even with the passing seconds striking him like drumbeats, he forced himself to concentrate on making smooth strokes. Speed was vital but so was endurance.
Although the lake was trying to suck the warmth out of him, he felt hot. In contrast, her body was now too cool. But her skin against his was soft and smooth, and he nearly convinced himself he could feel her heart beating and her lungs filling and emptying, but maybe he was only deluding himself.
Again he looked upward. There was no bird.
Whether a bird or his imagination had led him to her became the most important thing he’d ever asked himself. At the same time, he repeatedly told himself it didn’t matter. Only keeping her from dying did.
Despite his protesting muscles, he refused to slow, let alone pause and rest. When, finally, his toes touched the muddy bottom, he nearly called out in relief. Half walking, half swimming, he brought her to shore and dragged her out of the water. Lying her on her back, he sank onto his knees next to her. There was no arrow, only a barely bleeding hole in her side. Obviously she’d pulled it out.
Mud coated her legs, and her hair flowed over her shoulders to cover the top of her breasts. Other than that, he had an unobstructed view of every bit of her youthful body. Because he’d yet to be beaten in battle and so had had his efforts rewarded, he’d seen more naked females than he could remember, but there was something different about her.
Not th
at it mattered. Pressing his hands against her cheeks, he turned her head to the side. Next he lifted her shoulders and angled her upper body in the same direction, thinking that might help get water out of her lungs. Everything seemed unreal to him. Surely he hadn’t just risked his own life trying to save a barely human creature.
Then she coughed, and relief rushed through him. After a moment, she coughed again, her slim form shaking with the effort. Water dribbled from the corner of her mouth. When her coughing became ragged, he turned her fully onto her side, holding on to her shoulder and hip to keep her in position. She spluttered and gasped, her breasts jiggling. Watching them, he tried to think of something comforting to tell her only to swallow the unspoken words. Just because he felt sorry for her and more than a little responsible, nothing had changed between his people and the Wildings. She was still his captive, potentially valuable merchandise.
When she stopped coughing, he rolled her onto her back again and released her. His arms and legs burned. His heart continued to pound against his chest wall, and his breathing hadn’t returned to normal. From the way she lay with her arms sprawled and legs limp, he had no doubt that the paralyzing poison was still in her system. Maybe, he pondered, that’s why she’d survived instead of drowning. Her body hadn’t had much need for oxygen.
Experience told him it would be a while before she could begin to move on her own, and now that her chest rose and fell, something shifted inside him. No longer being concerned for her life allowed him to thoroughly evaluate the creature he’d taken possession of.
Her breasts were remarkable. Instead of flattening completely against her chest wall, they remained firm and rounded. Her nipples were hard, dark nubs, undoubtedly because the cold water had made them that way. Seeing no reason not to, he caught one between thumb and forefinger. Until now, her eyes had been closed. As they slowly opened, he acknowledged how much effort she had to put into what should have been a simple act.
Curiosity tightened his hold on her nipple. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in air through flared nostrils. Her lips parted, but she made no sound. Strange. He hadn’t expected her to begin recovering so soon.
“I have you, Wilding,” he said. “You might not yet understand what’s happened, but you soon will. And when you do, you’ll do everything you can to get away from me. But you’re too valuable. My lord and shaman have need of you.”
She still wasn’t focusing on him so he pulled on her breast, drawing it away from her body. Her eyes widened even more. She went from staring at nothing to glaring at him. A chill settled against his back, nearly causing him to release her. But if she thought her dark, hate-filled gaze would frighten him, she was badly mistaken. Angry at her—and maybe a bit at himself for his reaction—he took hold of her other nipple and pinched it.
“You should have worn clothes,” he taunted.
Being able to control her this way restored him. Having control also reminded him of how long it had been since he’d fucked. He could take her now while she was helpless, spread her legs and bury his cock in her soft flesh, although maybe he’d first flip her onto her belly so he could take her from behind.
From out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fingers start to curl inward. It should be too soon for her to be able to move on her own, but maybe there was more to the Wildings than he and his companions had thought. After all, she’d survived what would have killed many women.
“Your nudity was your undoing,” he informed her, although he wasn’t sure she could understand him. “If you’d been dressed, I might not have decided to claim you.”
Her lips thinned, and her nostrils flared even more. Seeing how much she hated him was like standing in the sun on a summer day, revitalizing, invigorating. His flesh warmed. His muscles felt restored. Most of all, his cock awoke.
“I saved your life,” he said, forcing his voice to be calm. “Among my people, when one saves another, the one whose life has been spared owes a great debt to the other. As for what I want from you…”
Having his throat shut down surprised him. He’d been about to lay her future out before her, but he didn’t know what use Tau and Sakima might put her to, what they needed her for.
She twitched, pulling his thoughts onto what he was doing to her. Because the poison numbed as well as paralyzed, holding her nipples this tightly might not cause her much discomfort, but he had no doubt she resented what he was doing.
He’d still been an untested warrior when Lord Sakima had told him that the time would come when he’d be rewarded with a sex slave. He might not spend much time with any of the slaves, but that experience would be more satisfying for him if he first reminded her that her body belonged to him, not her. Experience had taught him that the man who’d become his father in many ways was right so why did what he was doing to his captive make him feel slightly ashamed of himself?
And why was he releasing her breasts?
At first she stared at him as if she didn’t comprehend what he’d just done. Then her eyes closed. He assumed that her brief unconsciousness was her way of regathering herself, probably in preparation for resistance. Judging by her reactions so far, he suspected it wouldn’t be long before he was dealing with a wide-awake and determined prisoner. The last thing he needed was for her to injure herself trying to get free.
Placing a hand on her flat belly so he could judge her responses, he looked around for the pack he’d shrugged out of just before diving into the lake. He spotted it among some rocks a short distance away. After pressing his hand against her stomach again, he scrambled to his feet and hurried over to the pack. Snagging it, he retraced his steps and again dropped to his knees.
Good. She hadn’t moved, and her eyes remained closed.
Digging into his belongings for what he needed, he studied the creature who’d come into his world. There was a warrior quality to her well-muscled arms and legs. Although her physique paled in comparison to his, he’d never seen a female in such well-honed physical shape. There was something about her long neck and broad shoulders that had him looking forward to caressing them at his leisure. Strange. Always before his interest in a female captive had begun and ended with sex.
Ah yes, sex. Her legs were modestly together, but with her left knee slightly bent, it wouldn’t take much to spread her. That done, he’d take his time studying her pussy.
Her fingers twitched again, and her lids fluttered. Brought back to reality, he checked to see that he’d pulled out the leather and rope he needed to properly restrain her. When he’d first added the restraints to his pack, he’d shaken his head at what he was doing because for the first time as a warrior, his task was to capture, not vanquish. But if this was what his leaders wanted, he’d do everything he could to comply.
The rope, even darker than her tanned flesh, would contrast with it, which was why he picked up a limp arm and wrapped the strands around the wrist closest to him. Then, despite his desire to do nothing more than study her, he rolled her onto her stomach and pulled her arms behind her. Within a few seconds, he’d secured her wrists so only a finger’s width remained between them.
Now what?
4
Knowing she couldn’t fight him released some of his tension, but before turning her so she looked at him, he twice fed rope around her waist and then tied her wrists to the makeshift belt. Double-restraining her probably wasn’t necessary, but acknowledging what he’d done might go a long way toward convincing her who was in charge. Besides, he liked the way her arms looked with her elbows bent.
After positioning her on her back once more, he scooted away a little so he could study what he’d done. Having her arms behind her had forced her to arch her back, which prominently displayed her remarkable breasts.
The last time he’d touched them, he’d been rough and masterful as befitted his stature. Now, despite the demands his cock was making on his ability to concentrate, he lightly ran his fingers over the smooth flesh. Women were remarkable creatures, soft where men w
ere hard, filled with moist, sleek passages a man could die in.
He didn’t like that that made him feel weak, damn it! She was a Wilding, a lesser being equipped with a primitive mind in sharp contrast to her magnificent body. It wasn’t fair! An animal-like creature should be ponderous and slow or so fragile he could easily snap her bones.
Still gliding his fingers over her breasts, he glanced around, half believing he’d spot Wilding men sneaking up on him. Surely the men wouldn’t allow her to walk about naked and alone.
Alone?
Maybe they’d deliberately sent this female out to seduce him.
Pondering the possibility, he again stared down at her. Her black eyes were open, but unlike the first time, they weren’t filmed in incomprehension. Judging by the way she studied him, she understood exactly what had happened to her.
It shouldn’t be like this! The poison wore off slowly. It didn’t suddenly melt away.
Warned by the hatred she made no attempt to hide, he expected her to start fighting. Fortunately, he was out of reach of flailing legs—legs he should have already restrained.
Not taking his eyes off her, he picked up a short length of rope. She strained upward, lifting her back off the ground. Impressed by the way the tendons stood out at the sides of her neck, he thanked the spirits for the hand they had in his saving her life. Even with her body full of fight, he felt close to her. There were just the two of them on this deserted stretch of land in a country he might never understand or feel comfortable in. He had no doubt that this resolutely silent woman had no intention of giving up. In addition, she didn’t appear to be at all ashamed of her nudity. Quite the opposite: unless he was mistaken, she was proud of her body.
“You can try fighting,” he said, wondering if she understood a word he said. “But it won’t do you any good.”
Her cheeks and throat glistening from the strain of keeping her shoulders off the ground, she continued to glare at him. She was a wild animal, and more. Savage and sensual at the same time. What would his shaman and lord do with her?