8. Zara
Zara
My eyes stay on the group of men in front of me as I start dragging myself backwards.
What the hell is going on? I whimper. Who are these people?
All I know is this isn’t a dream. No, this fuckup is one of my own making.
I should have kept my black ass in Scotland or gone on a relaxing vacation with my friends like normal people. Now they’ll never find my body.
The group chuckles at the one rubbing his face.
They call him brother as they slag him off for being bested by a girl, but together they try to calm him down.
They’re wearing t-shirts or shirts, but not a snowsuit in sight.
Great. Only I could tumble into some sort of cult.
Wow Zara you have outdone yourself this time.
None of them seem to be in any rush to help me, or hurt me, making this my time to bolt. Unfortunately when I turn to stand, my ankle gives way and I cry out. A pain so deep shoots through my foot and I stumble, drawing all eyes back on me.
Concern finally registers on their faces as they take me in, but not from Mr. eye-poke. His face shows something else, something dangerous and somewhat predatory. Yep, he’s going to kill me.
“She’s hurt, we need to get her back to the ranch,” says a hulking guy with auburn hair. He steps towards me, but the alpha-dick douche turns and squares up to him.
“Don’t fucking touch her. She’s mine!” he roars, and maybe I'm concussed, but I swear he looks like he’s got bigger.
“Calm down.” The one who stepped forward raises his hands in surrender.
Fucking coward, I moan, slinking further away as they carry on
“I’m just saying she’s in pain. We need to get her back to Santa. Plus, if you want to keep your eyes, I'd suggest you don’t touch her again.”
Santa? Did that grown ass man just say fucking Santa?
“No one will lay a hand on my mate! If you try I will tear you to shreds”
“Calm down Xin before you trigger a shift and this whole thing becomes messy.”
Shift? Santa? Xin? Yeah I'm concussed for sure.
I reach a tree and use it to stand, hugging it for support as I get off this frozen wet ground. No one is carrying me, no one is touching me. No one is fucking mating me.
My thick, puffy gloves make gripping the bark so much harder than it needs to be, but I'll be damned if I get a skelf in my hand along with everything else.
I fumble but finally I'm vertical.
“I’ll help you.”
A voice behind me makes me stumble forward. Just as I'm about to fall, arms lock around my waist and catch me. I want to scream, but I find myself relaxing into his warmth. He’s wearing a t-shirt, how the hell is he so warm?
“Don’t fear me. You belong to me and I to you.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t bother fighting him. Why am I not trying to get away? Surely I should escape this massive lunatic that has me in his clutches? Why do I feel safe?
“You can put me down now,” is all I mutter.
“No,” he grunts, and I raise a brow.
“No? Did you tell me, no?” His grip tightens and I decide now is the time to thrash. “Put me down right this minute!”
“I will carry my mate,” he says robotically.
“Arrgghh.” my legs leave the floor and I'm completely airborne before I know it. Fight or flight kicks in and I start to struggle in his arms.
“Wow, I thought Rudy with Eve was bad to watch,” one of the others grumbles.
“At least he didn’t become so enraged he wrecked everything around him.”
“Cheap shot, brother, it was my first day.”
Conversation and laughter behind me continues as though I’m being kidnapped.
“Someone fucking help me, ya shower a bastards!”
I flail in my captor's arms as he walks on, acting like I weigh nothing. Impressive considering the junk in my trunk, but not enough to stop me from trying harder.
I throw elbows, but apart from the odd grunt they have no impact either. No matter how or where I hit, he barely budges. Soon, exhaustion seeps in. Along with the pain from my legs and other body parts I haven’t had time to register.
It hasn’t helped my head either and dizziness and nausea overwhelms me.
“Put me down. Please.” I beg, my mouth starting to water.
He stops short, and locks eyes with mine, concern showing. My hand covers my mouth and I start to retch. I hit his chest with my other hand, hoping he gets the fucking hint and quickly.
“Put her down, she’s going to blow,” an asshole shouts.
Thankfully he complies and gently lowers me down. My knees buckle the minute my feet touch the ground, and I spew uncontrollably. A hand grips my shoulder trying to give me support but I shrug it off, waving my arm.
“Don’t look - at me.” I gasp between hurling, tears freely falling.
“Why wouldn’t I look at you? You are sick. I want to take care of you.” His confused face looks even more distorted through my watery eyes. If I wasn’t feeling like absolute shite, I’d think that was kinda sweet.
Wait what? He’s trying to kidnap you ya fucking idiot. He is not sweet. Don’t let his eyes fool you. His beautiful sultry eyes.
Certain that I've brought up all I can, I shakily begin to stand but find myself airborne once more.
“Woah big guy. Do you want me to be sick again?”
“No. I want to get you help quickly, and for this I must carry you. So hold on.”
Without waiting for a reply, he takes off in a sprint. My stomach twists and I clutch his t-shirt for safety. The warmth seeping through into my hand calming me again.
What the fuck is that? Does he have some sort of pheromones that are seeping into my fingertips or something?
The trees around me fly by at an alarming speed, reminding me of how I tumbled down the side of the slopes. I close my eyes, willing these images away before the need to spew returns.
When I dare to open them, the trees have thinned and we emerge onto flat ground covered with fluffy snow.
In the distance is a massive barn style house sitting alone.
The brute carrying me—Xin, I think they called him—doesn’t break his stride, and even though it is terrifying, I hope that’s the place where someone can help me; as the pain in my leg is increasing.
Flashes of the other members run past us.
How the hell are they passing us? And in this weather? Who the fuck can run on snow? What are they? A bobsled team?
I watch as his pals zip past when I notice just how fast we are coming up on the barn. My whole body tenses, waiting for him to slow down, but he’s not.
I squeal through my teeth, “Fucking hell,” as I tuck into him, expecting to bust through the wooden panels. He ignores me and my nails digging into his chest as he transitions to a fast walk.
I peek over my shoulder as we cross the threshold, cradling me like a fucking new bride. I want to tell him to finally put me down but the warmth in the building causes my head to swoon, and I fight off the tunnel clouding my view.
The doors to the dining room are held open and I'm ushered in. A short man with a beard and children with old faces appear to be waiting for us. Gently, Xin places me on the table like I’m apart of the fucking buffet, and turns to the old man.
“Fix her!”