Chapter 7
brYN
‘You shouldn’t be here, Dark Realmer.’
I whirl to face the voice and find a large man I haven’t seen before. My eyes dart around for Morgan, but he’s not here. I thought he was right behind me when I turned down the alley just now.
There’s no one here though. I’m alone with this man. He’s heavyset, tall, and bearded with dark hair and a long, weathered coat.
‘Tavish told me about you,’ he says grimly. ‘The slave whore who needs to learn that she isn’t wanted here.’
I say nothing, but I change my stance, widening it subtly for balance while making sure my eyes look fearful.
I hope it will make him underestimate me.
He takes a step closer, eyes roving over me boldly. ‘I’ll teach you.’
He lunges and I dance out of his way, putting out my leg and tripping him, but the cunt doesn’t go all the way down.
He rights himself and moves fast, faster than I thought he would and I realize too late that I have underestimated him when he grabs me and turns my back to him, throwing me into the nearest solid wall.
He holds me there, letting out a yelp when Fate stings him somehow while I wriggle and fight. He grunts in pain when I kick his leg trying to save myself because Fate hasn’t done enough.
I need more!
I feel a rush of something inside me, so quick and so sudden that I’m not sure if it’s real.
A grating sound comes from the roof above us and a large piece of clay tile plummets from it. But he chooses that moment to sandwich me hard against the stone just as it would have hit him, and it misses, embedding itself in the dirt beside him.
He doesn’t even notice.
I don’t have time to think, or to act as he changes his grip, his great hand comes around my neck, crushing it against the wall as he kicks my legs wider and pulls my dress up.
I struggle to breathe. His laugh is chilling.
‘You’ve been a disobedient slave girl,’ he mutters low.
‘I’ll have to discipline you, tan your little arse red, but don’t worry,’ he whispers like a lover in my ear that makes me snarl, ‘I learned what else girls like you need in the Dark after you’ve learned your lessons.
I’ll release you afterward, have you mewling for pleasure on my fingers like the Dark Realm whore you are before I mount you! Would you like that?’
I renew my struggle against him and let out a scream of anger and of fear.
And then the weight of his body on mine disappears. I turn quickly, pressing my back flat to the wall and breathing hard.
Morgan is there, I realize in abject relief. He has the man by the throat. He’s lifting him off the ground.
His fury makes him look more orc than fae as he shakes my attacker like he weighs nothing.
The man is gurgling, turning red, but Morgan doesn’t let him go. He slams him into the wall next to me with enough force to make no small amount of dust puff out from the roof’s eaves.
‘I heard what you said, you depraved fuck,’ Morgan snarls in a tone I’ve never heard from him before. ‘You know who I am?’
The man nods jerkily.
‘You know the stories they tell about me, then.’
Another nod.
‘So, you want to mount my female, is that right? Is that what I heard from your foul lips?’
The man shakes his head, eyes wide in terror.
‘No, no,’ he chokes. ‘Mistake.’
‘A mistake?’ Morgan spits. ‘It sounded like you were aiming to defile a woman out here in the street.’
The man who seemed so dangerous and large shakes his head again in the face of Morgan’s anger.
‘No, no,’ he whispers. ‘Mis-misunderstand.’
I see a bloom of wet appearing on the front of the man’s trousers.
‘Perhaps I’ll turn you around and mount you instead,’ Morgan says quietly, making the man shake his head vigorously, mumbling out a garbled no and please.
Morgan leans in closer to the man. ‘If my human wasn’t watching, the things I would do to you would ensure you’d never sleep properly again for fear.’
With that, the half org lets him go, and the man scrambles away.
‘You orc cunt,’ he rasps, clutching his throat. ‘I’ll tell the Council of this! Pack your bags, Dark Realmer! I’ll see you and your whore cast into the Breach before midday!’
I watch in horror as he turns and staggers away.
‘Stop him,’ I whisper.
Morgan just stares after the man as if in a daze.
And then I see Locke running up from the other end of the alley toward us.
‘What happened?’ He takes me by the shoulders and turns me to face him gently. ‘Are you all right, Bryn?’
‘Stop him, Locke!’ I say, pointing after the man. ‘He’s going to say that Morgan attacked him. But he did it to save me! You have to stop him!’
Locke stares after the fleeing man who’s slipped in the mud just steps from the main thoroughfare where I know people are going about their daily business.
‘Quickly! He’ll tell them all!’
The man gets to his feet and keeps going.
‘Take his memory!’ I say desperately. ‘Work that conjure on him like you did on us! Make him forget!’
Why is no one doing anything?
Locke surveys me and then Morgan who’s just watching the man escape, waiting for his life here to be over.
Locke’s mouth sets into a thin line, and he finally nods, fingers moving subtly.
I see the man freeze at the mouth of the ally.
His body straightens and he looks around as if he isn’t sure where he is before he ambles slowly away.
‘It’s done,’ Locke says. ‘He has no recollection of what happened.’
He turns to me. ‘What did happen?’
‘He came upon me, said Tavish had told him of me. He,’ I look down at the ground. ‘He said he was going to punish me as a master would, to teach a lesson for coming here, and,’ my jaw clenches, ‘he said that I shouldn’t worry because he’d release me before he mounted me.’
My fingernails dig into my palms as I’m overcome with my own fury, and my disappointment in the people here…my disappointment in myself that I couldn’t fight him off.
‘Who is he?’ Locke snarls.
‘Don’t know his name. He isn’t from Halsford,’ Morgan says very low, seeming to come back to himself. ‘He’s one of Tavish’s drivers.’
He stares at the place where we last saw the man in silence, his expression dark.
He saved me. He called me his.
Without thinking, I rush to him and pull him into a tight hug. He stiffens for a moment in surprise before his great arms encircle me.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper against his tunic.
‘You need never thank me for such a thing, Bryn,’ he rumbles. ‘I’ll never let harm come to you again.’
‘But you won’t always be there,’ Locke says quietly. ‘Bryn needs to learn to defend herself properly.’
I draw away from Morgan and cant my head at the darkhaired fae.
‘I was trained in the pits for weeks,’ I say defeatedly. ‘I won against Maldred.’
I say it without malice, or reproach, though Locke still looks away from me for a moment.
‘I know you did. But it’s not enough.’
‘Locke’s right. It’s not enough,’ Morgan surprises me by saying.
‘I could teach you some tricks, how to wield a knife properly, more than what we began the other day. Locke is best with a conjure usually, but his footwork is actually better than mine and Jak’s.
We could begin before you train with Voss’s students... ’
I nod, cautiously excited to learn. ‘All right.’
They take me back toward the cottage without delay, keeping me between them on the street. I’m not sure what to make of them, so protective when yesterday I assumed that, Locke at least, could barely stand the sight of me.
When we get to the apothecary door, they take me inside. Morgan knocks on the healer’s room and Jak answers, his smiling countenance darkening significantly as Morgan speaks, telling him what happened, I suppose.
He comes over to me, not touching me. ‘Are you all right, Bryn?’
I nod. ‘Just my neck, but it doesn’t feel too bad.’
Probably because I took that healer’s potion not long ago.
‘It doesn’t look too bad,’ he says. ‘I’ll give you a salve for the bruising. I’ve noticed the healing potions are running a bit low and I won’t be able to make more until the flowers bloom, so we should save them for when they’re really needed.’
I nod and he goes to a basket filled with small identical pots. ‘Here. Would you like me to do it?’
I shake my head. ‘I can.’
Is that disappointment I see in his eyes? Does he want to? Why?
‘The ritual,’ Locke says from across the room where he’s leaning against the wall, looking imposing as usual. ‘We should do it today.’
My eyes find the others to see them nodding and I frown. Last night they were against it, but today is fine? My lip curls when none of them ask me what I want.
We go back to the cottage, Jak in tow as well. When we get inside, I relax minutely, sinking down in one of the chairs by the still-warm hearth.
‘What if I see that man again?’ I ask no one in particular.
‘He won’t remember you,’ Locke says from the casement as he stares out at the trees behind the cottage.
‘But I’ll remember him,’ I whisper.
The floor creaks in front of me and I look up to see Morgan standing ominously over me.
‘You will never see that cunt again, Bryn,’ he promises darkly and my eyes widen.
Morgan is going to kill him, I realize with a certainty that should frighten me.
But it doesn’t. It makes me feel better in some strange way.
‘You won’t get caught?’ I whisper.
His lips turn upward. ‘I won’t be caught, my little human. Come.’
He draws me toward the table where there’s a cup and a small knife. None of them look at me.
I’m not sure what to expect, but Morgan hands me the blade.
‘Cut your palm. Put the blood into the cup.’
I do as he directs, slicing my flesh and watching as the blood swells from it.
I drip it into the cup and see each of the males do the same.
Jak then fills it with wine, stirring it well with a spoon.
It’s handed to me first and I grimace, not because of the blood, but because I still dislike wine.
I drink it though, and then the others take their turn.
And then nothing else happens.
‘Is that all?’ I ask incredulously.
‘Aye,’ Locke answers. ‘The ritual itself is simple.’