11. Lily
I wake slowly, my body aching in places I didn”t know could ache, my mind fuzzy and disoriented. For a moment, I simply lie there, blinking up at the stone ceiling, trying to gather my scattered thoughts.
And then memory comes crashing back, and I bolt upright with a gasp.
The feast. The dance. Grok”s declaration, his fierce, passionate claiming of me before the entire clan. And after, in the privacy of his chambers...
I feel my face flush, my pulse kick into a gallop as the images flood my mind. His hands on my body, rough and reverent. His mouth on my skin, hot and hungry. The overwhelming, exquisite stretch of him inside me, filling me, completing me in a way I”d never known was possible.
It was everything. He was everything, in that moment. My king, my mate, my world.
But now, in the cold light of morning, with the haze of lust and firelight stripped away...doubt comes creeping in, insidious and chilling.
What have I done? What have I allowed to happen, swept away on a tide of passion and savage, forbidden need? I”ve given myself to the enemy, the warlord of the very horde that seeks to conquer and enslave my people.
I”ve betrayed everything I am, everything I”ve sworn to protect. And for what? A moment of fleeting pleasure, a whispered promise of love and devotion from a beast who knows nothing of either?
Slowly, carefully, I ease out from under his arm, holding my breath as I slip from the furs. He grumbles something in his sleep, his brow furrowing...but he doesn”t wake, doesn”t stir, as I pad silently across the chamber and slip out into the hall.
I dart through the corridors on shaking legs, my heart in my throat and my eyes darting feverishly for any sign of guards. But the way is clear, the stronghold still and silent in the grey pre-dawn light.
I make it to my own chamber without getting caught, slipping inside and leaning back against the door with a shuddering exhale. For a moment, I simply stand there, trying to catch my breath, to center myself in the wake of last night”s madness, last night”s surrender.
I spot my sword propped against the far wall, a mocking reminder of how easily I allowed myself to be disarmed, seduced into letting down my guard. I stride over to it, snatching it up and buckling it around my waist with sharp, angry movements.
The weight of it at my hip is a comfort. A reminder of who and what I am, beneath the sweat and sex and savage, aching want.
I”m just turning towards the door, my mind already racing ahead to plot my escape, when I hear it. Voices, low and urgent, drifting through the heavy oak from the corridor beyond.
I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. Grok? Has he returned, sensing my intention to flee? Or worse, has he sent guards, warriors to drag me back to his bed, to remind me of my place, my duty to submit and obey?
But no...as I strain my ears, I realize the voices are unfamiliar. Not Grok”s deep, rumbling baritone, but the guttural snarls and snaps of ogre soldiers, their tones clipped and terse with urgency.
”...don”t like it,” one is saying, his words muffled but intelligible through the thick wood. ”Attacking a human settlement, now, with the warlord so distracted by his new pet? It”s asking for trouble.”
My breath catches, my blood turning to ice in my veins. An attack? On a human village? When? And why hasn”t Grok told me, warned me, if he truly means for me to take my place at his side?
”You”d do well to keep those doubts to yourself,” another voice hisses, hard and warning. ”The warlord”s orders were clear. We strike at dawn, hard and fast, before they have a chance to rally their defenses. And if you know what”s good for you, you”ll be on the front lines when we do, proving your loyalty...and your respect for our king”s mate.”
There”s a tense, charged pause, heavy with unspoken threat. Then the first voice mumbles a reluctant agreement, their footsteps fading away down the hall.
I stand frozen, my mind reeling, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged bird. An attack. At dawn. On an unsuspecting village, my people, while they sleep and dream.
And Grok...Grok knows. He ordered it, despite his pretty words, his heated promises of devotion and alliance. He means to slaughter my kin, to baptize our newfound bond in human blood...and he didn”t even have the decency to tell me to my face.
Betrayal burns through me, hot and breathtaking. Betrayal...and a rage so fierce, so savage, it steals the very breath from my lungs.
How could he? How could he do this, now, after everything we shared, everything he swore to me in the heat and darkness of his furs? Was it all a lie, a trick to lower my guard, to make me weak and pliable and blind to his true intentions?
I feel sick, violated, used in a way that makes last night”s savage passion seem almost tame by comparison. I gave him everything, offered up my body and my trust and the battered, aching shards of my heart...and this is how he repays me?
No. No. I won”t allow it. I won”t let him do this, won”t let him make me complicit in the slaughter of innocents, the destruction of everything I hold dear.
I can”t.
My hand falls to the hilt of my sword, gripping tight, the cool hardness of the pommel a steadying anchor against the maelstrom raging inside me. I have to get out of here. Have to warn them, my family, my people, before it”s too late.
Have to...have to leave him, no matter how it tears and claws at something deep in my chest, something that wails and rages and bleeds at the very thought.
Not your mate, I remind myself savagely, blinking back the hot sting of tears. Not your king, or your lover, or anything but your enemy. Your captor.
Remember that, Lily. Remember who you are, and what you stand for.
Remember...and fight.
Gritting my teeth, I turn towards the door, my steps slow and measured, my senses straining for any hint of movement or sound beyond. The way seems clear, the corridor empty...but I can”t take any chances.
Easing the door open a crack, I peer out into the gloom, scanning for guards, for any sign of watching eyes or alert ears. Nothing. Just the gutter and hiss of the torches, the distant murmur of reveling warriors in the great hall.
Slowly, carefully, I slip out into the hall, easing the door shut behind me with a soft snick. My heart is pounding, my palms slick with sweat as I grip the hilt of my sword, ready to draw at the first hint of discovery.
But the shadows remain empty, the silence unbroken. I take a shaky breath, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening, and start down the corridor, keeping to the edges, the darkest pools of flickering light.
I”ve studied the layout of the stronghold in my time here, mapping the twists and turns, the choke points and bottlenecks. I know the guard rotations, the patterns of patrols, the places where eyes are most likely to be drowsy and inattentive.
And I mean to use every scrap of that knowledge now, to weave through this maze of stone and shadow like a ghost, a wraith, leaving no trace of my passing.
Leaving him, and everything he represents, far behind.
I slip through the halls like a shadow myself, darting from alcove to alcove, ducking into empty chambers and little-used stairwells whenever I hear the tromp of approaching feet, the guttural snarl of ogre voices.
My heart is in my throat, my blood thrumming with adrenaline and a sick, twisting dread. I can”t shake the feeling that any moment, any heartbeat, I”ll turn a corner and find him there. Grok. Waiting for me, knowing somehow, in that uncanny way of his.
And if he catches me, if he takes me...
I don”t know what I”ll do. Don”t know if I”ll have the strength to fight him, to resist the treacherous pull of my body to his, the aching need his touch ignites in my blood.
Focus, I snarl at myself, shoving the thought away with ruthless determination. Focus on what matters, on getting out, before it”s too late.
Before you betray everything you are, everything you stand for...just for the sake of a monster”s kiss, a beast”s empty promise of love.
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache, using the pain to center myself. I can”t think of him, of us, of the raw and raging hunger that even now pulses like a living thing between my thighs, in the secret, shadowed corners of my heart.
I have to be strong. Have to remember my duty, to my people and to myself.
Have to...have to let him go, no matter how it breaks me, how it carves me hollow and bleeding.
A shudder runs through me, a full-body flinch of grief and longing. But I don”t slow, don”t stop. I can”t. Too much rides on my escape, on my warning.
Lives. Innocence. The very fate of my village, my world.
And so I push on, winding through the labyrinth of the stronghold, every sense straining. The halls grow emptier, the air colder, as I near the outer edges, the places where the bones of the mountain press close and dense.
I”m close. So close now, I can practically taste the crisp, pine-scented air of the forests beyond, the sweet, bracing flavor of freedom.
Just a little further. Just a few more turns, a few more breathless, heart-stopping moments of dodging patrols and clinging to shadows.
And then...then I”ll be out. Away. Safe.
From the stronghold...and from him, the warlord who would make me his own, his captured queen, even as he destroys everything I love.
I reach a final corner, the last turn before the heavy iron gates that mark the boundary between my prison and the world beyond. My heart is a wild drum in my chest as I flatten myself against the cold, rough stone, straining my ears for any hint of movement, of watching eyes.
Nothing. Just the groan of the wind, the creak of rusting hinges. The way is clear.
It”s now or never, Lily, I tell myself grimly, my fingers white-knuckled on the hilt of my sword. Now...or he wins. The bastard wins, and your people pay the price.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I ease around the corner, every muscle tense, every nerve thrumming with the expectation of discovery. But the gates loom before me, silent and still, unguarded in the thin, grey light of pre-dawn.
Too easy, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. This is too easy, Lily. He”d never leave the way unguarded, not with you inside, not with so much at stake...
But I shove the thought down, lock it away with all the other doubts that would root me here, in this place of shadow and savage, aching want. I can”t afford to hesitate, to second-guess. Not now.
And so, with a last, shuddering breath, I break from the shadows and dart for the gates, for the narrow gap between iron and stone that spells freedom.
My boots slap against the flagstones, too loud, too reckless, but I don”t care. I”m flying now, my blood singing, my heart a wild, battering thing against my ribs as the gates loom closer, closer...
And then I”m through, bursting out into the chill, misty air of dawn, the scent of pine and loam and life filling my lungs. I want to laugh, to cry, to scream my triumph to the uncaring skies...
But I don”t. I can”t. Because even as I stumble to a halt, even as I turn to look back at the looming bulk of the stronghold, the place that has been my prison, my torment...
I feel it. A tug, a pull, like a hook sunk deep in my chest, a chain winding tight around my heart. A tether, binding me to the stone, to the shadows...
To him.
Grok. My captor, my king...my mate.
No, I think desperately, even as something in me cries out, reaches back. No, I won”t, I can”t...
But it”s too late. Too late, as I stand there torn between duty and desire, between the world I”ve always known...and the one I”ve just begun to glimpse, to crave, in the circle of a monster”s arms.
Run, my mind screams, cold and commanding. Run, you fool, before he catches you, before he takes you, and you”re lost forever...
But my heart, my treacherous, traitorous heart...
It whispers a different plea, a broken, yearning prayer that echoes in my blood, my bones, the secret, shadowed places inside me.
Stay, it murmurs, a siren”s song, a lover”s call. Stay with him, with the one, the mate, and damn the rest, damn all the rest that would keep you from his side...
I take a shuddering breath, squaring my shoulders, my spine. I look out over the misty treetops, to the horizon stained with the first blush of dawn.
I”m coming, I vow silently, to the rising sun, to the faces that fill my heart, my memory. I”m coming to warn you, to save you...
No matter the cost. To you...or to me.
And with that oath ringing in my soul, I turn my face to the east, to home...and I begin to run once more. Fleeing the stronghold, the past...
And the warlord who holds my fate, my future, in his bloodstained hands.
Grok, my heart whispers, a broken, wistful keen. My king, my captor...my mate.
Forgive me.
Forget me.
For I will never, never...forget you.