by Piper Stone
I wiped dirt from my face, realizing my hand was shaking. As if I had any control whatsoever.
I knew the man was undressing me with his eyes and I felt more naked than I had before. A shiver slid all the way down my legs.
I gave him a nod before folding my arms, glancing around the room. He lingered, a pensive look on his face.
“Where are we?” I asked again, hopeful at least he’d respond in some manner.
He made a guttural sound, pointing toward the crude bed. Then he disappeared.
I turned in a full circle, eyeing the contents. Everything was just as rudimentary as I would have imagined, but there was a sink and what appeared to be some kind of toilet. I laughed as I walked in that direction, realizing even the area had been rigged to close it off for privacy. I turned the faucet, shocked to see running water. There were even towels folded rather neatly on a shelf. And soap. Dear God, there was soap. I was giddy once again.
Maybe they didn’t live like true barbarians.
I moved back toward the bed, pushing down on one of two pillows. It was soft, perhaps even luxurious. So many things had been destroyed or taken, finds like a soft pillow were a true treasure. One flap of the tent was raised, allowing light to come through. Very quickly it was lowered and secured. While this certainly wasn’t a typical cage, this was the single place I was allowed.
I took several breaths, continuing my exploration. A crate drew my attention, a beautiful and very ornate wooden box, much like a treasure chest. After a quick glance at the flap the blond had exited through, I crouched beside the box, using both hands to open it. The lid was heavy and as I studied the carvings, I realized that the box itself had several different kinds of exotic woods creating stunning pictures.
My father had been a woodcrafter and taught me various aspects of carving, his beloved hobby. He’d even made a few pieces of furniture prior to his... murder. He’d given up so much in order to keep his family safe, a life of true luxury. I swallowed back the bitter memory as I peered inside. While there were a few pieces of clothing on top, no doubt belonging to the leader, there was an almost shocking find. Books.
But not just any books.
Medical books with some scattered works of fiction as well. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Just like weapons, real books had been almost entirely wiped out by a government who believed education was the root of evil. I loved books, adored them, my father having saved dozens for me. Perhaps the only way I’d been able to get into college. He’d read to me for hours until I was old enough to read for myself. All against the new laws of the great new world. I’d learned so many amazing aspects about nature, animals, science, and math from books.
My fingers trembled as I pulled one into my hands. The book was heavy, the pages stained, the scent unlike any other. I sat cross-legged, flipping through one then another, stacking them up one by one. They were magnificent. Finding a novel, I leaned against the box as I started to read. It had been so long since I’d had the simple pleasure.
I lost track of time, voraciously reading page after page, devouring every word, more gleeful than I’d been in a long time. I bit my lower lip, excitement building as one chapter turned into two then three.
I should have been paying attention.
I shouldn’t have been snooping.
The book was ripped out of my hands, the man towering over me fuming. He let out a vicious growl, his entire body shaking from the anger consuming him.
I cowered at first, terrified of his reaction but as his eyes roamed over the pile and he looked at the book I was reading, a quiet calm settled over him. After tossing it onto the pile, he grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet and dragging me toward the bed. I knew exactly what to expect.
He pulled me over his lap, wasting no time smacking his hand down on my bottom, moving from side to side with precision. I could hear the dark grumbles under his breath, the frustration he felt from finding me searching through his things.
The man actually expected full obedience, as if I could read his mind. I squirmed, tossing back my arm as I hissed. This wasn’t fair in the least.
“Stop!” My exclamation was ignored.
As he’d done before, he grabbed my wrist, pinning my arm against my back as he continued with the spanking, one smack coming after the other. Even over my thick pants, the fire was reignited, pain turning into anguish. The round of discipline brought tears to my eyes.
I finally stopped kicking after what seemed like the hundredth strike, allowing my hands to rest on the dirt floor.
I didn’t even try to stop him when he wrangled with my pants, yanking them down to my knees. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe I knew better than to fight.
The alpha stroked my bottom, still taking deep breaths, still exasperated.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning, from actually freaking moaning. Oh, no. My body wasn’t going to betray me again.
The next snap of his wrist brought instant pain as well as additional tears to my eyes. He was going to make certain I didn’t forget why I was receiving a spanking in the first place.
He picked up momentum, the cracking sound after his cupped hand fit around my buttocks as if molded in place ringing in my ears. I allowed myself to concentrate on the sound, controlling my breathing.
One.
Two.
Three.
I tried to keep count, to measure the amount of punishment but he never slowed down, never wavered in his pattern, smacking one side then the other. Start again. When he huffed, ceasing all activity, only then did I twist my head. I heard the heavy sigh, could almost feel the tension easing from his body. He needed this to control his own raging emotions.
He caressed my bottom, his fingers lightly dancing over my heated skin. I was mortified at my condition, the scent of sex floating all around us.
He issued a series of scattered breaths, as if determining what to do. Then the barbarian eased me up to a standing position, his huge hands wrapped around my arms. He brushed his thumbs up and down my skin, as if this were some effort to comfort me. He inhaled and held his breath as he tugged on my pants.
“I can do it.”
“Umpf.” The sound was merely a growl, a flash of admonishment in his eyes. He was going to do this.
I held my arms as he fastened the button, trying to keep from shivering.
“I know you can talk. I also know you understand everything I’m saying.” My gaze dropped to his tattoos, able to study them more clearly. One in particular caught my attention, a beautiful albeit very crude scorpion. I was drawn to the work of art, unable to take my eyes off the intense colorations, the almost 3D-like appearance. Tentatively I reached out, the tip of my index finger just tracing the lines. I was mesmerized, as if this was a telling piece of the puzzle. For some reason, I knew the ink meant honor. Honor for his place as alpha, his country, or of something else? He allowed the gentle touch for a solid minute then pulled his arm away.
“It’s beautiful,” I dared whisper, not expecting a reply.
There was none.
He eyed me warily, taking several deep breaths. There was such pain in his eyes, a deepness to them that almost allowed me a glimpse into his soul.
Almost.
Whatever had occurred during his life, he’d seen too many horrors, the events ripping away at his mind and his heart. That is if he had a heart. There was nothing certain about him other than his need for privacy.
And domination.
He finally let me go, jerking to a standing position before moving toward the box. He hunkered down, fingering two of the gilded covers, a longing look crossing his face.
I had no idea how to react or if I should say anything. I’d invaded his privacy but watching him as he carefully placed each book just so in the massive box gave me a great deal of information. They were indeed his books, his prized possessions in a world where caring about anything or anyone had no real purpose. They could be stripped at any moment, destroyed for the simple
pleasure of doing so.
There wouldn’t be a moment that anyone couldn’t look over their shoulder, awaiting a storm of officers to burst in or worse, the scavengers ready to sell you off to the highest bidder. This was his haven, no doubt reinforced by some security detail, but I would certainly never feel safe.
Not around him.
Not away from my people.
Not in his arms.
“Those books belong to you. Medical books.”
He seemed surprised that I’d realized my find, his gaze sweeping over me as his breathing became more ragged. A curl on his lip was followed by a deep sigh. Another moment of frustration.
“Yes, I can read. What are you anyway? Do you have a name?”
The glare became more intense.
“Fine. I’m Alex. Alex Walters. I was attempting to find food and medical supplies.” I didn’t add anything further. He certainly didn’t deserve to know about my village. I had no idea if he’d pillage then take the few other fertile females. My suspicion was he would. Lie. Just lie. “I was traveling with a couple other people, trying to find a safe place to stay for a little while.” The falsehood seemed plausible enough.
His eyes opened wide, a smirk crossing his face. He was either delighted from my predicament or curious as to who my people were.
Or he already knew I was flat out lying.
“If you think you’re going to hunt them down, you’re wrong. I will kill you first.”
My statement brought another round of amusement, his eyes dancing. He rose to his feet and I instantly took two steps backward, falling onto the bed. An actual laugh slipped from his mouth as he shut the lid on the box.
“I’m so glad you find my horror and discomfort amusing.”
He took deliberate steps closer, lifting a single eyebrow and glaring at me. His actions tentative, he eased his hand toward my face, hesitating then giving me a commanding look.
Yield...
I bristled the second he brushed two fingers across my face, biting back an instant and involuntary moan. I jerked back, my breath scattered. “Don’t hurt me. I did nothing to you.”
The barbarian stopped and shook his head. I noticed how his features softened, yet the same dominant expression remained.
His unspoken words whispered of a gentle action, nothing like what I’d experienced before. There was no way I would ever trust this monster, but I would comply with his basic requests.
For now.
Until I figured out how to get the fuck out of this hell hole.
Until I found a way to slice his throat.
Leaning closer, I clenched my jaw, digging my nails into the furry pelt covering the bed. Another moment of absolute disgust kicked in when I could no longer prevent the tears from forming, two distinct salty beads slipping past my lashes. I’d prided myself that I never showed fear to any enemy but this time, I’d been thrown into a lion’s pit, barely able to contain my emotions.
He cocked his head then rubbed his fingers across my face, gently at first then with purpose. Crouching down, he studied me, still the silent brute. When he curled his fist, I reacted once again, a whimper slipping past my lips. I was certain he was going to punch me, lock me in chains then use me to his will. He furrowed his brow then using just his knuckles, he rubbed them across the tender area of skin under my eyes.
Wiping the tears away.
With his eyes locked onto mine, he eased his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue across the salty beads. For a few precious seconds, I was allowed another glimpse into his broken soul. He languished over the taste, the slight sound erupting from his throat sensual, the act so very intimate.
I was able to study his long ebony eyelashes highlighting his chiseled face, the cleft in his chin that was more apparent since nicked by my knife. He had an aristocratic quality about him, even covered in the scruffy beard and mustache. He was dirty all over but rugged in an extreme fashion. My pussy clenched again from the closeness, the scent of him. I hung my head, refusing to watch the ridiculous act. Hell, I was terrified of my body’s continued reaction.
He growled then lifted my chin, using his other hand to drag strands of hair from my face. He offered a nod of approval or maybe respect. I couldn’t be certain. Fight him. Fight! I wanted to scratch out his eyes, carve his skin into shreds.
My natural reaction? I snarled.
He pounded the same fist on the bed, his comforting expression changing into one of disdain, a hiss turning into a growl.
“Glare at me all you want, you pig. You’ll never break me. You may have taken my body, but I’ll never care about you. You might as well kill me or whatever you’re planning on doing. You’re just a monster.”
Jerking up, he wiped his hand on his pants, taking a decided step away from me. He seemed surprised at my outburst. Another deep breath was followed by a glance around the room. He was obviously checking to see what other items I could interfere with. He pointed at me then at the bed before walking directly toward the flap, hesitating long enough to close his eyes and lift his head toward the tented ceiling.
I was getting to him.
Then again, what did it actually matter?
After he left, I forced myself to stand, wavering on my feet. I stood in the same position for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the camp. Everything I’d been taught about the huntsmen had been just as jaded as I’m certain the details they’d learned about the laborers were. There were some reports that the majority of us were spies, locating various horsemen and reporting, given special treatment for a job well done. I knew better but communicating this to a group of primitive people would take special skills.
Brutal, harsh reality.
An overwhelming sadness swept into my mind and heart. I was angry and bitter, exhausted and drained from fighting a war that had no end in sight. Escape was the one thing I should be concentrating on. Instead, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball, allowing the wretched despair to take over.
His scent covered me, woodsy and all male, disgusting in every manner. I stormed into the small bathroom, turning on the water full blast and grabbing a towel. The material was surprisingly soft, a reminder of better times. How the hell did he get something so luxurious? I wiped my face, rubbing with enough vigor my skin tingled then burned from the chafing. I wiped my arms and neck, trying to rid myself of his stink. My head ached, my muscles tense, and I was nauseous from the entire experience. Hate continued to furrow, deep and dark, overpowering in the need to exact revenge.
Why was my entire body still tingling from his touch, electrified as if he were my lover? My protector. I moved back to the center of the room, glancing toward the refrigerator, my throat parched, but the exhaustion was far too significant. I needed sleep in order to regroup, develop a plan.
I yanked at the covers, staring at the pillow for a few seconds before crawling under the pelt, drawing the soft fur over my shoulders. After a short nap, I was going to get the hell out of here and I didn’t care what damage or injury I caused in an effort to do so.
No one was going to imprison me against my will.
No beast was ever going to... touch... me...
Chapter Four
Alex
“You belong to me.” The statement was followed by an intense howl, the roar more beast than man. He lifted his sword toward the sky, bellowing to the very heavens.
Instead of being terrified, I was in awe.
We raced through the forest together, two mated beasts ready to claim their prey. I was thrilled to be by his side, basking in the glory of the warm afternoon. As we neared the stream, the ripples dancing over the polished rocks, I’d never felt so strong or alive. I stood on the banks, throwing my arms into the air and basking in the rays of sunshine.
He moved behind me, his powerful hands sliding down my sides, inching the dress up then over my shoulders. Cupping my breasts, he nuzzled against me, the warmth of his body invigorating, driving my already heightened desire into a
n almost frantic state. “You belong to me. You always have. Now, I’ve come to bring you home.”
My nipples were rock hard, aching with an almost desperate need. He seemed to sense my condition, kicking my legs apart as he ground his magnificent cock against my naked ass.
“Fuck me. Please, just fuck me,” I whispered in return.
The roar came out of nowhere, a snarling, screeching sound, the crackling of limbs permeating my eardrums. We had no time to react, no time to fend for ourselves.
A net was tossed over us, yanking us to the ground. I screamed as I heard the bellowing sounds.
The scavengers had found us...
“No. No!” I was shaking, trying to claw my way out. I had to get away from the creatures. My entire body was on fire as I attempted to move, to pitch forward. What was keeping me down? I moaned, fighting and whimpering as the thing held me down. I had to save us. I had to fight. I... Then my eyes flew open, my heart racing. Blinking, I tried to curtail my heavy breathing, listening to every sound.
The huntsmen.
The camp.
The capture.
I jerked up, frozen with fear, taking gasping breaths. The attack had seemed so real. I searched the darkness, struggling to focus. The word home lingered into my mind, almost obliterating any rational thought. The dream had been so real.
I was still in the tent, but the light level had changed. But I could see him. The brute was watching me, sitting in the shadows, only his long legs visible in the darkness. A distinct odor wafted in my direction.
Meat.
I could smell grilled meat. My mouth watered instantly, my stomach churning from the raging hunger. I could just see steam rising from something placed in the middle of the table. I stole quick glances around the tent, certain the others would be lurking, waiting.
Hungering.
There was no one inside but the leader, the massive alpha male. What was he waiting for?
Darkness had fallen, giving an eerie feel to the enclosure. I had no idea how long I’d been sleeping but the ache in my head was now pounding. I heard a slight creaking sound seconds before he leaned forward, his face appearing out of the shadows. His elbows were placed on his knees, his hands clasped together, the same burning intensity of his eyes searing through mine.