The first two hours of the horseback ride, Myka had sobbed. Her tears had rolled down her cheeks, wetting her neck, dampening her shirt. Then there was the moisture coming from her nose. Everyone always acted like the puffy eyes and the red face were the worst side effects of ugly crying, but those people were idiots. The worst side effect by far was the never-ending snot that accompanied a heavy cry. Myka seriously considered turning around and wiping her nose on Drake’s bare arm, but she decided an action like that would probably get her slapped across the face or something worse. Not that Drake had been mean to her, because he hadn’t. During the worst part of her sobs, he had urged her to lean back against him, but she would never do that. Myka had done everything she could to keep from touching him. She wanted nothing to do with the despicable man. She didn’t even want her clothes to brush up against him. He’d been following her for the last month, targeting her. He’d used his charms to make her trust him. And she hated him for it. So instead, she had to settle for wiping the excessive snot moisture on the sleeves of her gray jacket. Eventually, her cries subsided, and her tears crusted on the sides of her cheeks, dried by the wind hitting her face.
She had sat rigid for as long as she could, her shoulders drooping forward, but eventually, her head had nodded forward and her heavy eyelids had closed. She must have relaxed against Drake’s body for support. Her cheek had leaned against his chest, and her head had rested under his chin. That’s where she’d found herself when her eyes opened. For a moment before that, she’d felt safe. But it became clear that she wasn’t safe. She had straightened as soon as she’d woken up, hating the fact that she was pressed up against the enemy.
The other four men on horses surrounded them as they rode. The sixth man was back at the Denton Inn waiting for her father’s reply. The pace was fast, and her mind went through the geography of Tolsten. They headed northwest, and in a day or two, Myka guessed they would reach one of the Tolsten lakes. Maybe they would even take a boat across the lake. It seemed unlikely. There was a Tolsten army base in Camgrove, and it didn’t make sense for the kidnappers to camp next to the army they were trying to hide from.
Every once in a while, Myka would glance behind her, hoping to see dust flying in the air from the tires of transporters chasing after them. Only people in government positions or soldiers had access to transporters and personal transporters, so the fact that these men were riding on horses must have meant they were working-class rebels. Transporters and PTs were patterned after pre-Desolation cars and motorcycles and were much faster than horses. But no one at Tolsten House would know she was gone until dinner time when she didn’t show up to eat with her father. If her father was still hallucinating, like he had been when she’d left him that morning, he might not even notice when she didn’t show up for their nightly meal together. But if he did notice, he would send his entire army after her.
Despair struck her in the chest.
Her father.
Had his fever worsened? Was he dying? Myka wouldn’t even be there to hold his hand, to see him take his last breath, to reassure him. If he died, she’d have nobody left. Everyone she loved would have left her...alone.
Loneliness—it was something she’d felt quite a lot in her eighteen years. If her father died, she’d really be all alone. She’d thought she had Rommel and Joett, but she didn’t even have them. At least, she didn’t think she had them. She didn’t know why Drake had been at their house, but it felt significant, more than a coincidence.
Her mind circled through other scenarios. If her father died, who would come to find her? It seemed like a selfish thing to think about. She should be praying that her father would live, even if it meant she would die or never be found. But she wanted to be found. She wanted to matter so much to someone that they would do anything to find her. She had to believe that her father would live and that he would risk everything to save her, but if that didn’t happen, she needed to save herself.
Myka didn’t even know how to save herself. She’d lived a sheltered life. She didn’t know how to fight. She’d never win in a footrace against these men or in a boxing match. She had no weapons. Her gun was still safely packed in her bag that had been tied to Bronze’s saddle. At this point, there was nothing she could do.
She glanced over her shoulder at Drake. Her captor. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d have a captor. She had flirted with him, liked him. Now, she questioned her ability to judge character. Everyone who meant something to her had turned on her. Clearly, Myka’s judgment couldn’t be trusted.
She looked around at the rest of the men. She was scared of them—of what they could do to her—scared of the way they had so easily taken her. The man with the long face and goatee was already staring at her all the time, giving her the creeps. She didn’t think these men would kill her. Most likely, they wanted something in exchange for her—something like money.
Unless they were the same men who had killed Princess Seran, and this was all part of a bigger plan, a princess assassination plan. She swallowed back the rising dread inside of her. Myka needed to find out what she was dealing with. She needed to know the terms they had written in their letter. Knowledge was her only source of strength right now. She lifted her chin, vowing that there would be no more tears. From that moment on, she would be strong. Drake would see a different side to Myka, a side that wouldn’t be easy to deal with.
“Where are we going?” she asked. It was her first question. The first thing she had said to Drake since he’d kidnapped her.
“That’s not for you to know.” His words came out clipped. A big change from the way he had spoken to her earlier that day.
She raised her chin higher, refusing to be intimidated. She needed to appear tough, like they couldn’t walk all over her. “What? Like if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me or something?”
“Something like that,” he said, but there was no joking in his voice. She brushed off his threat, focusing on the land in front of them. Right now wasn’t a good time to ask the million questions she had in her mind. The pounding hooves and the jostling horse made it difficult to hear and carry on a conversation. Myka would try again as soon as they stopped.
Drake tugged at the reins of his speckled horse, pulling the animal to the right. Myka glanced at the other riders. They veered right as well. The land around them was empty, nothing but trees and scattered ruins from Desolation—decaying cement roads, large pipes that stuck out of the ground with weeds growing inside of them, and twisted metal choked by tree branches. The horses slowed as they entered a thick mass of oak, and there were several times Myka had to duck or lean to avoid hitting a branch with her head. These men were too smart to travel near cities and houses. A group this size would draw too much attention. Especially with ropes tied around her waist and hands. Nothing screamed suspicious like a hostage. Myka guessed they would stick to the wooded areas for the majority of their ride.
The air dampened around them, and the trickling sound of water mixed in with the stomping hoofbeats.
“We’ll rest the horses here,” the old man in front of them called out to the group.
Drake slowed his horse to a stop near the river, and Myka straightened as she watched him dismount. He winced slightly as his feet hit the ground. Then he stretched and twisted his back, causing the rope at her waist tighten. His hands went to her hips, and before she knew what was happening, he lifted her off the horse. Her tied-up hands grabbed his shoulder for support as her numb legs tried to regain their strength. She made the mistake of looking up, and her gaze met his. Drake’s cryptic eyes watched her. Myka pulled her hands back, not caring if her wobbly legs wouldn’t hold her up. She’d rather fall than touch him.
“Follow me,” he said.
He walked away from the group, and the rope between them went taut until the force was enough to pull her after him. Myka stumbled, tripping over her own feet and the uneven ground below, but she managed to stay upright as she followed after him.
&nb
sp; “Where are we going?” she asked.
Drake kept walking, ignoring her question, then he stopped abruptly and pointed at a large tree ahead of them. “You can go to the bathroom behind there.”
Myka spun around, sizing up the tree. Her dark brows drew together. “I’m not going to the bathroom right there.”
“Would you prefer to relieve yourself in front of the other men?”
She raised her tied hands up, gesturing to the area around them. “There's no privacy here.”
“I apologize about that, my lady—”
“My lady?” Myka reared back. “Lady? Do I look like I’m forty years old?”
His eyes glanced over her. “No, you look like you should have a nursemaid with you. My mistake.”
A puff of air escaped her lips. She wanted to say something sassy back to him, but he cut her off.
“You don’t need privacy to go to the bathroom, Your Highness.”
“Myka,” she said. It bugged her that he acted like he didn’t know her name.
“Not Mya-Mildred?” He raised his eyebrows.
She gave him a tight smile, adding a hard glare. “No.”
“The lack of privacy should be the least of your concerns, Myka. You’re a prisoner.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Can you at least remove the rope?”
“And have you run away?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.”
“How am I supposed to pull my pants down when you’ve got the rope so tight over them?”
His brows bent. “Why are you even wearing pants? I thought you were a princess.”
“I am a princess, but I happen to like pants,” she said but instantly regretted it. Myka didn’t have to explain herself to him.
“I bet your father loves that,” Drake muttered under his breath.
“Don’t talk about my father,” she snapped, feeling her anger build. “He’s twice the man you are!”
“Right,” Drake scoffed.
His mockery annoyed her, and she raised her chin. “The rope?”
He reached for the knot at her waist and began loosening it enough so she could get her pants to slide down. His face was so close, and instantly, Myka’s pulse was in her throat. Not for the same reasons it had been at the market. Now, her heart raced with venom. His eyes flicked to hers as he worked the knot, but he quickly looked away, like he didn’t want to stare at her either.
“There,” he said flatly as he turned around, walking as far away as the rope would take him.
“What about my hands?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” he said over his shoulder.
Myka looked back in the direction of the other men. She supposed she should be grateful that she at least had the thick tree trunk to hide her. It was going to be bad enough going to the bathroom by Drake.
She shook her head.
Let’s get this over with.
She shimmied her pants down, hoping she could get in and out, but things were never that easy. A bad case of stage fright took over, which was ironic because ever since they had kidnapped her a few hours ago, she hadn't been able to get her eyes to stop leaking.
“Are you almost done? I don’t want to have to turn around and check on you,” he said.
“I’m sure a creep like you would like that.”
“No.” He strung the short word out, filling it with annoyance. “Despite what you may think, I’m a gentleman and have no desire to disrespect you.”
“Yes, because only the finest of gentlemen kidnap unsuspecting women.” The talking was a nice distraction from the stage fright. Myka needed to keep it up. “You know, I do wish I had shot you in the chest a month ago.”
“You practically did.”
“You’re such a baby.” The pitch of her voice went higher, making fun of him. “Did you go tell all your kidnapping friends that the princess shot you?”
“No, none of them know about our prior conversations, and if you want to stay by my side, then you better keep it that way.”
“Maybe I don’t want to stay by your side.” Myka pulled up her pants and yanked on the rope hard, causing Drake to turn around.
He walked toward her, stopping close. “Trust me, I’m better than the alternative.”
“Why? Am I supposed to trust you because you flirted with me?”
“If I had known you were Adler’s daughter, then…” His words trailed off, leaving her curious.
“You knew exactly who I was. You’ve probably been following me for months. Then you had the audacity to flirt with me to get me to trust you.”
His eyebrows raised. “I did not flirt with you to gain your trust.”
“Oh, yes, you did.”
Drake threw his arms out. “I didn’t even know you were the princess.”
“So, you flirted with me because you found me so irresistible?”
“No. If I recall, the first time we met, I spent the entire time telling you that I’m not looking for a relationship.” He towered over her, his feet spread wide like he loved to play the intimidation game, but Myka wouldn’t let him intimidate her. She needed to keep some shred of control, even if it was small.
“You were flirting with me,” he continued. “You were dying to get your hands on me under the guise of nursing my wounds. You probably shot me just so you could patch me up.”
Myka threw back her shoulders. “Oh, please!”
“I’ve never seen a woman so impressed with me.”
She took a step toward him. “I was impressed with my aim.”
“Your aim was terrible.”
“And what about today at the market?”
“What about it?” he asked.
“Did you flirt with me today?”
Drake shook his head. “No. I was merely buying salt.”
Myka changed the pitch of her voice again. “You can have the scarf if you can reach it,” she mocked. “If that isn’t the oldest flirting trick in the book, then I don’t know what is.”
“I was trying to get the price of your salt down,” he explained.
“Yeah, right. You’re such a typical bad guy.” Actually, Myka had never met a bad guy. All this time, she’d pictured a bad guy to be dirty and ugly with yellowed teeth and ogre-like eyes, not covered in muscles with a smooth face and striking jawline. Was every bad guy this handsome? Probably. It didn’t seem likely that ugly villains would gain much of a following.
“Except for the fact that I’m not a bad guy. Your father is.”
“My father is the kindest man and the most amazing leader I’ve ever seen.”
Drake’s jaw set. “Sounds like your father has been feeding you lies.”
Myka laughed. “Where I come from, kidnapping another human being is considered wrong, making you and your little band of brothers the bad guys.”
“Yeah, well, where I come from, building and hiding wea—”
“And where exactly do you come from?” she interrupted. “What rock did you slither out from under? You’re like a snake.”
He shook his head. “Why am I arguing with you? I don’t need to stand here and listen to this. Let’s go back.”
“No,” she folded her arms across her chest. “I demand answers.”
“Just because you demand something doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. We’re going back to the other guys even if I have to drag you over there.”
Myka sucked in a deep breath. She couldn’t get any information, and it frustrated her. Drake treated her like a child, so that was how she would act. Her body went limp, and she dropped to the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll have to drag me,” she said.
“Get up,” Drake hissed.
Not a chance.
Her behavior was completely immature. Myka knew that, but this situation compelled her do things she wasn’t proud of, like squatting in the trees and acting like a child. When she didn’t move, D
rake grabbed her under her arm and tried pulling her up, but her deadweight made it almost impossible for him to move her.
“Stand up.” He tried pulling her up again, but in her current position, Myka was too heavy.
Drake sighed. “Grady!” he called. “Come help me with the princess.”
“What?” Grady called back.
“The princess. I need help.” Frustration filled every corner of his words.
Suddenly Grady appeared next to them—Myka could see his worn black shoes. Grady was the Shaggy Hair man.
“What did you do to her? Is she hurt?” he asked.
“No,” Drake muttered. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
“If she’s not hurt, then why can’t she walk on her own?”
Great question, Grady.
Myka couldn’t walk on her own because she was trying to be as difficult as possible for Drake and her kidnappers. Which was infuriating Drake more than she had anticipated.
Drake huffed. “She’s faking it.”
“Why would she fake like she can’t walk?”
“Does it really matter? Just take the other side and help me.”
Grady moved to her other side, lifting under her armpit. Myka lay limp between them. Her head drooped down, and her long brown hair covered her face. The two men dragged her seemingly lifeless body through the dirt to where the other men rested. Her shoes skidded over roots and twigs, leaving two lines from her feet behind them.
“Stand up,” Drake said when they got to where the other men were.
She shook her head side to side, making her hair swing back and forth.
“Don’t be annoying,” he said. “Stand up.”
“Say please,” she said, still slumped over.
Drake’s grasp on her arm tightened. “Please stop acting like a child and stand up,” he said through gritted teeth.
She liked how mad she’d made him. It gave her a tiny bit of control. Myka would have kept this ruse going, but she felt like her shoulders were about to be ripped out of their sockets, and she was getting a little light-headed from all the blood that had rushed to her drooping head. It was time for the gig to be up.
She placed one foot in front of her, then the other, until her weight shifted from the men to her own two legs. Drake and Grady didn’t let go of her, as if she might do something unexpected. Her body rolled up slowly, inch by inch like she was a wave rippling back from the beach. She could feel Drake and Grady watching her, holding their breath until the last moment when her head rolled up, and she stood upright before them.
The Stolen Princess: A YA Dystopian Romance (Desolation Book 3) Page 9