by Danube Adele
The encounter at the restaurant had affected him. And he was going to go along with this horrific episode anyway. A desperate anger kept my fuse lit. “Silly Viking, keep up, would you? I said pretend.”
I don’t want to see this happen, but if it must, I want to get it over with. His caged impatience got free and his tone went sharp. “Pretend games are for children, and I have no time for this ridiculousness. Let’s get on with it.”
That one stung, but I kept on, letting my fake smile speak for me. “Who would you pick for me? Don’t be shy. Who will have the rights to me tonight? Who is going to rip off this dress and have at me all night? I get to have a stranger rutting between my legs. By the way, what will happen to me if I should fight it? Does the man get to punish me? Force me? What rights do women have here?”
Reluctantly, he admitted, “Women please their mates.”
“Nice. So I have no rights, and this is going to be a long, painful night. You do understand this is going to hurt, right? Can’t wait to start. Who should I pick? The mean guy, Draxton?”
An image of Draxton running his hand over my breast came to Tabron’s mind, followed by a wave of his violent anger. I’ve brought her to this by my own actions. If I hadn’t shown an interest... Blast the gods for this. She wasn’t deserving of it. Who could I see treating her well? But the thought was distasteful, and it was immediately dismissed.
His words nearly disarmed me, his softer, rumbling tone was more damaging than his angry one. “Look, Ceci. I’m sorry that you’re here. If I could have it any other way, I would make the change, but there’s nothing to be done now. This is it. There is no escape.”
The burn came back. I saw him through a film of tears. “You got me into this mess, but you’re too chicken to help me get through it? I’m not surprised. I guess I keep looking for a man of character when I look at you, but I’ll never see one.”
That barb stuck him good. His hard, aloof expression slid back into place. His tone rough, he offered, “The world will disappoint you over and over again. Get used to it. If you’ve experienced any joy in your life, count yourself lucky.” As an afterthought, he added, “Any of the men would appreciate having a woman.”
I shook my head. He was going to be no help.
“Morten and Draxton are not viable choices, but there are kinder men here. You’ll see.”
“But not you. Right?” I chuckled at the absurdity of the conversation we were having. Like that show where couples meet and marry in a day.
“I have never wanted a mate.” No explanation.
“Way to make a girl feel good.” It was said more as an exhalation of breath. He didn’t care that I was going to be hurt, that I was scared, that the future was so uncertain. He wanted me to sacrifice for the nation, but what was he willing to give up?
“Let’s go. There’s much to do.” And I want to get this done and move on.
So sorry to inconvenience you with my horrific personal dilemma brought on by you.
There’s no going back. It can’t be helped.
Purposeful telepathic communication. My anger faded. With a look of wonder, I asked, “How did we just do that? And how come it isn’t happening all the time?”
Tabron shook his head. “I don’t know, Ceci.”
“Have you always been able to do this?” My curiosity seemed to briefly override the moment of fear.
“No. Only for a few weeks now.”
“And you can hear my thoughts?”
“Sometimes. Occasionally others’, as well, when I’m near them.”
Why here? Why now? What was here that wasn’t on Earth? Though, hadn’t I thought I heard his thoughts at the hospital? It was happening much more frequently now. It was something worth observing. Testing. Experimenting with.
Taking a deep breath, I asked the question that was plaguing me.
“What happened to the women who were kidnapped from Earth and brought here? Where are they?” That might give me a better sense of my future. Maybe they were happy. Maybe they’d found that being here was absolutely wonderful. Maybe they, too, had chosen mates and were living it up. I would love the chance to talk with them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. No other women have been brought.” The absolute certainty in his words was aggravating, particularly when it was so easy to verify.
“You don’t need to lie to me. Two people have already verified this for me. Especially when I know kidnapping isn’t something you’re shy about.” I set my phone back in my bag and started to sweep past him huffily, but he hooked my arm and trapped me against the door jam.
“I’m not a liar.” His teeth clenched as he said this. “I know of no other women who were brought here.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Then you heard wrong.”
“What if I heard right, Viking?”
He looked down at my lips, and I saw the flash of heat. His proximity, his thoughts all brought back the memory of the restaurant, the sense of excitement and danger, the innocent, sexy flirtation, which caused my heart to ache. The forest scent curled around me, invading my body as I took a deep breath in. His lips were just a few inches away from mine, a small white scar over the corner of the top right side that was barely visible. We never had kissed last night. My heart, the traitor, was skipping beats with excitement, demanding action, and I remembered when we were this close at the restaurant. I’d practically been on the verge of inviting him home. Then he’d taken me away from everything that was my life.
He was right. Life was full of disappointment.
“And just think, if you’d played your cards right, we would probably have eventually made it to my apartment where we could have been fucking each other’s brains out.”
In a quick maneuver, I shoved my arms up to the sky between our bodies, automatically dislodging his hands from my arms, though I knew it wasn’t for long. On my own, I started down the hallway toward the stairs, trying to scrub the stray tear or two that managed to sneak past my lids. Sure enough, he caught up with me immediately and grabbed my arm. I refused to look at him and nothing more was said. I was tired of taking a beating.
I found my composure by the time we reached the dining room.
“Here she is! I hope you’re feeling more refreshed?” The king smiled from his place at the head of the dining table as we walked in, his voice large, commanding the attention of the entire room. The bottle of wine was in front of him. It was nearly a third gone, and his face was flushed.
Nearly a dozen large warriors, all with long hair, leather breeches and tunics, were lounging about the large dining area, some sitting with the king at the long trestle table while others sat on different pieces of furniture around the room, talking. They all went silent and faced me. The king’s voice sounded darn near jolly as he asked, “Is your room comfortable?” Drunk. It didn’t seem like a good start to the meal.
I had to breathe through the sharp retort that was dying to come out and go for something more diplomatic, something that wouldn’t damage my cause. “This has been a...trying experience. I’m glad to have such a comfortable room under the circumstances.” It was the best I could do. Truly. It seemed to be enough.
Now that I was faced with this roomful of men, fear tickled my stomach unrelentingly, nauseating me. I scanned the room again and saw that all eyes were on me appraisingly, some with obvious sexual interest. The amount of testosterone here was making me anxious.
“Allow me to introduce you to everyone. Dr. Cecilia Bradford has just been brought to the great nation of the Brausa. She will be of great value in helping us maintain our health and well-being. After all, if we haven’t got our health, we haven’t got anything. Isn’t that right, dear?”
My smile barely crept out to show agreement before diving behind lock and key once again.
“I want Cecilia to feel welcome, and to help her feel like one of us as quickly as possible. For that reason, I have promised that she can choose one of you to be joined with.”
A variety of expressions covered the men’s faces, ranging from outright surprise to salacious appraisal. Oh, God. This was worse than I thought it would be. They didn’t even know. And he’d made it sound like I was looking to get hitched, like it was some promise he’d had to make to get me to agree to be here. Dull heat pulsed my cheeks.
“Perhaps the men can introduce themselves before the meal is served.”
And that’s all it took.
“She’s a beauty, Ral’e,” one of the men called out to the king as he approached me, bringing an extra cup of some beverage. He had dark blond hair, a few strands of gray woven in, a small paunch and light brown eyes. He was average height and had a friendly enough smile, and still, my heart kicked extra the closer he got, and I had to fight the urge to back away.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, taking the cup he offered.
“I just wanted to put your mind at ease and let you know that we are not animals.” He took my hand and pulled it up to kiss the top of it, at which point Tabron let go of my arm and stalked away. He took a seat beside another dark-haired warrior at the table. I shouldn’t have felt abandoned. “My name is Lanir.”
“Please, call me Ceci.” I shook his hand and tried to refocus. “Can you tell me what’s in the cup?”
“We call it durma. It’s strong, so be sure to sip slowly or it may go to your head.”
“Thank you.” I sipped it, expecting it to put some hair on my chest, and wasn’t wrong. It cleared my sinuses up nicely. What it was made from, I didn’t want to know, but it created a nice burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach.
“Would you like to sit?”
“I’d prefer to stand right now, thanks.” A few more sips, and I was feeling relaxed enough to have a civilized conversation. Lanir’s wife was one who had died in the attack. He had a son who was now in his teen years and was training to be a soldier. He was a nice man and likely lonely for his wife. At the very least, he seemed like a possibility. Non-threatening.
“Out of the way, old man,” one of the other warriors said good-naturedly. “Let the rest of us have a moment of her time.” A younger man with brown hair and gray eyes took my hand and introduced himself as Caern, but he was jostled by someone who was obviously his friend. They jokingly competed for my attention with gentle roughhousing that was made all the funnier because I’d taken a few sips of the durma.
A quick glance at the table, and I saw that Tabron’s eyes looked stormy as they watched me across the room. He appeared to be composed, sitting back in his seat, but his hands gripped the arms of the chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and he was glowering at the men. What did he have to be mad about? He wasn’t the one getting auctioned off. I was. If anyone had a right to be upset, it was me.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Another warrior stepped ahead of Caern and his friend Jenys. It was Draxton, the mean warrior. Tabron had obviously disliked him. It might have been my imagination, but there was a cruel tilt to his lips, and his eyes were looking me over in a way that I could only describe as disrespectful.
He took my hand roughly. I wanted to pull away, but he squeezed harder, nearly crushing my fingers.
“That’s not very nice now, is it?” He tried to smile, smooth over his small bit of aggression, but it was there, hanging in the air between us, like our little secret. There was a soulless quality to his eyes that made me afraid.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Just introducing myself. I’m Draxton.”
“Cecilia,” I replied and managed to get my hand back as another man approached, this one with pale hair and eyes.
“Morten.” Draxton greeted him with a smirk. “When did you return from your trip?”
“Yesterday. And who do we have here?” He looked me over in the same manner. I took another sip of the drink I was holding and wondered if I could walk to the table and join the king. There were only a few more men I hadn’t met, but they didn’t seem eager to meet me. Probably a sign they didn’t want to be joined.
“She’s the doctor from Earth. Your father is allowing her to choose someone to join with.”
“Then the choice is made.” Morten smiled. I had a slimy, oily feel coming off of him. “I live in the palace and can provide well for you. None of these men have the means of supporting you in the way you must be accustomed to.”
“I’m accustomed to taking care of myself.” My tone was measured and quiet, like I would use with wild animals. Escape was an even better idea, but when I tried to take a step back, they both stepped forward, cornering me.
Draxton laughed. “So you see, Morten, you have nothing to offer. I, on the other hand, don’t need wealth to keep a woman satisfied. I have other gifts.” Draxton rubbed his hand over my arm, checking out my cleavage again. I tried to look for Tabron, but they were blocking my view. Alarm had my blood rushing, my mind racing. These men were dangerous. Ruthless.
“I’ve had no complaints.” Morten’s reply had a slight snarling quality. He wasn’t as large as Draxton and was being edged out. His face flushed red and there was a silent growl on his lips. He recognized he was the weaker of the two.
“Excuse me. I’d like to go sit.” I tried to pull my arm away, but Draxton suddenly gripped my arm harder, rubbing it and letting his thumb extend to graze the side of my breast. He was about to get pummeled.
“Don’t be in such a hurry to leave. We’re just getting to know you.” His hand moved up my arm to touch the bare skin of my shoulder, cornering me against the wall.
“I’m hungry. I want to sit,” I insisted, trying to push his hand off me, but he didn’t let go. What would everyone do when I knocked this guy out? Would I be forgiven or killed? What was their code? Tabron hadn’t actually answered my question about what rights women had here.
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to leave,” he stated in a low voice. Then he bent closer to my ear and murmured, “Who knows? If you’re nice to me, I might be able to help you. Choose me, and we can play so nicely together.”
“Get off me. I don’t want you.”
“You don’t know what you want. Things will go better for you if you choose me. I promise.”
There was that phrase again! Go better for me? Help me? Yeah, right. When pigs fly. Was I going to have to knee him in the balls? Elbow across the face? What could I do wearing my dress? It was hampering my options. Turned out I didn’t need them.
“She told you to fuck off, Draxton.” Tabron gave him a shove that moved him two feet back, inserting himself between Draxton and me.
Draxton only laughed, though his eyes told a different story. He lifted his hands palm out, as though it was all perfectly innocent. What a creep. He was likely an abuser of women, too.
In low tones, Tabron demanded, “Didn’t you get enough with the other women who were brought here?” He’d remembered what I’d said! Was checking it out.
“You wanted in on that? I had no idea.” Draxton laughed. “I’m sorry, brother. You’re too late for this round, but we’ll let you know next time Frank brings us a surprise or two. He’ll be sure to bring more.”
Tabron’s rage seethed, bubbling to the surface. He wanted to kill Draxton badly. Somehow, it comforted me. He wasn’t as uncaring as he would have everyone believe.
“Dinner is served!” The king called from the table in his trademark jovial voice, like he hadn’t just ruined my life but the lives of whatever girls were in absentia with all of his cruel decision making. It sounded like they were no longer living, which was probably a blessing at this point. I could imagine what would happen to girls brought to a nation where a great num
ber of the women had died.
“Sit here, Dr. Bradford, as my guest of honor.” The king motioned to his right. “And I want you to know that I did feel better after drinking water as you suggested last night. For some reason, after drinking wine with my son, my vision grew blurred, and I was feeling very dizzy.”
“Can’t hold your wine.” Morten chuckled, but it was only his lips that moved with the action. His eyes darted around to see how others were taking the conversational tidbit. The king moved on.
“Sit here, Tabron. Allow me to thank you for successfully bringing us a doctor.” The king motioned to his other side and a dark-haired warrior moved down the table a space, his dark eyes watchful of the two of us.
“Thank you, Sire.” Clearly, Tabron was reluctant to let go of my arm. I looked up into his eyes intrigued that they were blazing with some emotion as they rested on me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be left on my own, even if he was just moving across the table, but I had no choice. I wondered who was going to sit next to me. Just then, I thought I saw Morten slip something into his father’s drink while he was looking away.
Tabron released me and moved to the other side of the table.
Caern, one of the young men, stepped forward and pulled out my chair with a warm smile. “Let me help you sit down.” I nodded my thanks and gave him a smile.
Unfortunately, Morten moved in next to me, remarking, “Wasn’t that nice of you, pup?” He snagged the seat Caern was about to take. I could feel his eyes on me and wanted to grimace. Studiously, I avoided looking at him and kept my eyes focused on Tabron. It was like he’d become my new rock, which was weird because he was the reason I was here. A little Stockholm Syndrome, perhaps?
Tabron kept watch. I should have seen this problem. She’s in danger. He was angry with himself. I was no longer amazed, but hopeful. If those were truly his thoughts, maybe he’d try to help me.
The men all took a chair and Tayla appeared with two other women, one who looked equally underfed and frail, the other, young and pretty, carrying large platters of food. Tayla managed to set her platter on the table and move away. She seemed just as much a prisoner as I was. It was absolutely ridiculous that such an elderly woman was being made to do such heavy work.