Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
LASH
Fuck!
Dull pain radiated through my groin as the woman’s foot connected with my crotch. The kirre might not have been fast or particularly strong, but her timing was impeccable. And her aim? Perfect.
That was twice now that I’d paid the price for underestimating her abilities. But how was I to know that I’d captured one of the few kirre with a fighting spirit? Her kind were supposed to be docile.
Kirre. Domesticated. Tame. Like cattle. It was right there in their name.
But not this one.
At least this time, I hadn’t been completely caught off guard by the woman’s desperate violence. I managed to keep my grip on her clothes even as the force of her kick caused me to double over. I had no intention of letting her slip away again.
But the woman wasn’t making it easy.
The second her feet hit the ground, she started twisting and twirling in my grasp. When that didn’t work, she changed tactics, throwing her arms up and collapsing her knees, so that she slipped out of her shirt.
Suddenly, I found myself alone, bent over, and trying to catch my breath while the half-dressed kirre took off through the forest...again.
Fates deliver me.
I drew in a couple more steadying breaths as I watched her disappear through the trees. I wasn’t worried about her getting away. Even with a generous head start, I knew it would only take me a matter of seconds to catch up with her…unless she threw herself off another cliff.
I swallowed a frustrated growl at the thought.
It had been a miracle the kirre hadn’t broken her neck rolling down the last rocky slope. No doubt, the next time she wouldn’t be so lucky.
Normally, I wouldn’t care.
What was the life of one kirre, after all? Especially one reckless enough to come so close to the Wall?
Supposedly, there were billions of their kind filling up the world. If anything, I’d be doing them a favor by culling the herd.
But my orders had been clear. If any kirre woman came too close to the Wall, Nelissa wanted them brought to her alive.
So, with a groan, I straightened up and took off after her.
Running blindly at full speed, the kirre left behind a trail of broken branches and footprints that were easy to follow. Not that I needed them. The sound of her heavy breath was like a siren blaring through the trees, giving her away.
And then there was her scent—a mixture of sweet honey and bitter desperation. No matter how fast or far she ran, the scent of her lingered behind like a physical thread for me to follow. With a scent that distinct, there was no way she could slip away.
I caught up to her before she had a chance to tumble down another hillside. Closing in from behind, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pinned her tight against my chest. Heat from her small, fragile body radiated through the thin material of my shirt. How could someone so weak fight so hard?
This close, I could feel every wiggle and slip of her body against mine…and strangely, the sensation wasn’t completely unpleasant. Truthfully, it only made me want to pull her closer.
Ignoring that traitorous urge, I instead pressed her face first against the nearest laurel tree and forced her arms around the slender trunk. Then, securing her wrists together with one hand, I slipped the belt from around my waist with the other.
The kirre’s frame was so slight that, even after wrapping the leather strap around her hands and forearms several times, there was still plenty of length left dangling like a leash. I gave the belt a couple more tugs, just to make sure it was secure, before stepping back.
She wasn’t going anywhere this time.
Snarling and spitting like a captured animal, she fought against her bindings, but it was no use. She wouldn’t be able to squirm her way out of this trap.
Resting my back against a large fallen redwood covered in moss, I looked down at my hand. Two perfect semi-circles of blunt teeth marks pierced the surface, just deep enough to let out a small trickle of blood. Though surprising, it was hardly a serious wound. By sunrise, it would be fully healed.
“You’ve got strong teeth for a kirre.” At the sound of my voice, the kirre stilled. I held up my palm for her to see the damage she’d done. “You managed to break the skin. I’m impressed.”
Her bright eyes lit up with equal parts dread and defiance.
“Come near me again, and I’ll bite more than your hand,” she warned with a trembling voice.
“Is that right?” I arched a brow. Now that she was tied up tight, it was easier to be amused by her empty threats.
“I’ll bite the nose right off your face,” she snarled, showing off a row of square teeth, no more threatening than a rabbit’s.
“You sure?” There was no holding back the amused smile that lifted my lips. “Because to do that, you’ll need to get close to these.”
Opening my mouth, I extended my fangs—long, sharp, and deadly.
Instinctually, the kirre flinched, hissing in a sharp breath at the sight. All the false confidence drained from her eyes, replaced by pure horror.
“Oh, my God. You’re really going to kill me,” she said, her body shaking right along with her voice now. “Aren’t you?”
“Probably.” I shrugged. “Eventually.”
Her eyes flicked back and forth across the forest floor as she weighed my words. “But not now?”
Lazily, I shook my head and wiped my bloody palm clean against the side of my thigh.
“That’s the plan. Unless, of course, you try something stupid, like trying to bite parts of my face off.
Though I should warn you—that kind of threat works best on those who care about keeping their good looks.
” Leaning forward into a beam of silvery moonlight, I let the kirre get a good look at who she was up against. “And as you can see, I’m not one of those. ”
I tilted my face so the glow would fall across the several small scars that already cut across my face.
Biting into her trembling lip, the kirre was quiet for a few long seconds before finally asking, “What are you going to do with me?”
“Now?” Sliding my back down the crumbling log, I lowered myself to the ground.
I didn’t see any point in hiding the truth from her.
“I’m going to let you wear yourself out, struggling against those knots.
Then once you’re exhausted, I’m going to toss your sleeping body over my shoulder and haul you off to Nelissa. ”
Her brows pulled together, creating a sea of crinkly waves across her forehead.
Were all kirre as expressive as this one? Every emotion that swept through her seemed to show on her face.
“Who the hell is Nelissa?” she asked.
That was a harder question to answer, and one that I doubted any kirre could possibly understand. Not quite a pack leader and definitely not a warrior, Nelissa was the widow of the martyred alpha who’d lost his life taking a stand against the mixed breeding of ferus and kirre.
Now she continued his fight, heading the small band of militant alphas who had joined together to stop the dilution of ferus blood.
But this woman would figure all that out on her own soon enough. Right now, there was only one thing she needed to know.
“She’s the one who’s going to find out who you came here for,” I said.
The kirre looked more baffled than ever. “What are you talking about?”
She was either a damn good liar or denser than I thought.
“We want to know which alpha you dream about,” I said, spelling it out for her.
But the woman just shook her head. “Who the hell dreams about alphas?”
“Women like you,” I answered, refusing to accept her lies. She knew damn well what was going on. She had to. “Kirre women who are driven to the Wilds by their erotic dreams, searching for their mate.”
“Erotic dreams about the ferus?” A bubble of laughter burst from the woman’s throat. “You have to be kidding me. Nobody lusts after alphas.”
“Of course you do,” I countered. “Why else would a kirre woman like you risk coming so close to the Wall?”
“I’m not here because of dirty dreams. I can promise you that,” she said. “My friend and I came to the Wall to record material for our podcast.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “What is a podcast?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she answered dismissively. “The point is you’ve made a huge mistake. I’m not looking to jump into bed with one of you. I swear.”
Of course, she’d say that. Tauren’s kirre had lied about her dreams as well, insisting they were violent instead of sexual. Apparently, her kind had a strong aversion to talking about sex.
“I don’t believe you,” I told her.
With a frustrated cry, she slapped the leather band around her wrists against the tree, desperately trying to pull her hands free. But it was no use. “I swear to God, I’m not horny for you!”
“I know you’re not.”
And thank the goddesses for that.
But there was someone out in these woods she wanted. Someone she woke up sweating over after dreaming about them all night.
But these dreams weren’t a one-sided thing. Mates shared bonding dreams. It was how the Fates guided them to each other.
Which meant every time this kirre dreamed of her lover, there was some poor alpha in the Wilds dreaming of her. Some pathetic soul who’d angered the Fates and was now facing the worst punishment possible—an entire lifetime bound to a kirre.
And once we’d pulled the name of the poor bastard from this woman’s lips, we’d save the alpha from a lifetime of shame and sorrow by permanently cutting the bond between them.
“But you can save yourself a lot of pain by telling me the name of the alpha you dream about.”
“Pain?” The color drained from her face. “You’re going to t-torture me?”
“Nelissa. Not me,” I clarified. “I’m too impatient for torture. The second I get bored, I start snapping necks.”
The tendons lining the kirre’s slender neck tightened as she tried to swallow down her fear. “I guess I’ll have to do my best to keep you entertained then.”
A joke?
I’d expected tears and pleading at the threat of death. Not humor.
Maybe there was something wrong with this kirre’s head. That would explain her erratic behavior—passing out from fear one second, fighting like a rabid weasel the next.
“The only thing I’m interested in hearing from you is the name of the one who drew you here,” I said, closing my eyes and tucking my chin down against my chest to steal a few moments of rest.
“Well, why the hell didn’t you just ask that from the start? What was with all the rambling about alphas and dirty dreams?” She let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not like it’s a secret. My friend and I came here to find out all we can about the disappearance of Hannah Carter.”
My head snapped right back up again.
“Hannah?” I echoed.
In a flash, the color rushed back into the woman’s face. “You know her?”
“The kirre woman who became Tauren’s mate.”
“I’m guessing that’s the one,” she said, hope brightening her eyes. Even in the faint moonlight, they sparkled like jewels. “There’s probably not a lot of us from the civilized world running around the Wilds.”
Not yet…and if Nelissa and those of us who followed her had our way, there never would be.
“You came here to find Hannah?” Skepticism dripped from my words. “Only Hannah?”
“That’s right.” She nodded frantically, golden hair flying wildly around her face. “I’d love to talk to her if I could. I have so many questions to ask her. Do you know where I can find her?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
For the first time, a smile curled the kirre’s lips. Her whole face brightened. There was something undeniably magnetic about the sight.
Too bad it was all a lie, I reminded myself.
Everything about the kirre was drenched in deception. It was in their blood. To them, bending the truth was as instinctive as breathing.
And now this one dared to think she could lie to me.
But I wasn’t about to let her shield the name of her dream lover behind Tauren’s freak mate. I might not be as skilled as she was at warping the truth, but the tool wasn’t completely foreign to me.
“Great!” the woman cried. “Can you take me to her?”
“I can take you to her grave.”
Immediately, her smile fell. “Hannah Carter is dead?”
“She is,” I lied. “I’m the one who killed her.”