Chapter 7 #2
Bael reaches out slowly, brushing the back of his thumb nail down my cheek.
“You would do it because some part of you recognizes the predator inside me. And it’s not fear I see in your eyes.
Some part of you wants to be hunted. Some part of you wants to run.
Pin you down? You’re the one that breathed those words into life.
Is that what you want, little firebrand?
You want me to hunt you down? You want me to pin you to the forest floor, to tear this pretty little gown from your body, to fuck my way into you as you beg and writhe beneath me? ”
The words steal my breath and send my mind reeling. They’re not true. They can’t be. Because what he’s suggesting should be anathema, and yet, for some strange reason my cunt grows wet at the thought.
I would never let a man do that to me.
Never.
Yet the picture his words paint fills my vision.
Dangerous. I knew it for truth when I saw him in those cells, but I never truly realized how dangerous he could be.
His whisper is molten as his lips brush against my ear.
“If I told you to strip right now, you would do it. And you would want to do it. And when I told you what a good girl you are for obeying me, your sleek little body would betray you, the way it’s betraying you now.
You’re wet, aren’t you? I can smell it on you. And I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“I…” Have nothing to say to that. My brain has gone missing. Instead, it’s focusing on his words, picturing those enormous battle-scarred hands fisting in the flimsy silk of my bodice and tearing it clean up the middle.
I don’t hate that thought.
Not even a little. Not at all.
His smile makes the ground drop out from under me, before it suddenly vanishes.
“Now be a good girl and strip out of that fucking dress before I stop being a gentleman. Put your new clothes on. Say thank you. And then get your fucking boots and focus. We need to get out of here before this fire draws unsavory attention.”
His words punch hard. Fuck. What am I doing? Kari is missing. Rhykus is out there somewhere. And we’re standing beside the biggest bonfire in the Labyrinth, with hundreds of bride hunters out there all searching for their one shot at a female.
And I’m still reeling from the concept of this man claiming me.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I growl, holding up a loose shirt and trying to retain some semblance of control. “You think I want you?”
The argument is weak and we both know it.
“Your eyes linger, sweetheart.”
“Fuck you. Oh, and I’m not giving your knife back.”
His eyes thin, but not malevolently. “I wouldn’t dream of taking it back. You won it from me fairly.”
Fairly. “That wasn’t what you were saying in that cell.”
“I changed my mind.”
He hasn’t changed his mind. He’s up to something.
“Have I won your name yet?” he asks.
“No. Turn around.”
Bael obeys, growling under his breath as he crosses his arms over his chest. I swiftly rifle through my new wardrobe.
The leather leggings smell new, and the thin white silk shirt is distinctly feminine.
It’s not what I’d pick for a hunt, but beggars cannot afford to say no, and at least there’s a black leather coat to go over it, a pair of socks and some kind of heeled slipper.
I unwind a thread of linen, wondering what it is, when realization clicks.
He even thought of something to bind my breasts with.
I don’t understand him at all.
“Where did you get these from?” I haul the leggings on underneath my skirt, unsure what to think of that. He’s an ass, but this is incredibly thoughtful.
“We needed supplies. Whilst you were talking to the women, I went and found them.”
“You went into a burning house to fetch me new clothes?” Because these had to have come from some of the women’s rooms, unlike my purloined boots.
He nudges a bag at his feet that I hadn’t even noticed. “New clothes for you. Food and water. And a couple of other items Rhykus left behind.”
I dress swiftly, then slip into my purloined boots. They’re a size too big for me, but better than the slippers he found. Winding my hair into a tight braid, I tie it off neatly. There’s a rumble under my feet, a sign I’ve been waiting for.
He glances to the side.
“Don’t look!” I yelp, easing his bag off the ground and sliding it over my shoulder silently.
“You’re not dressed yet? The Labyrinth is about to reset.”
“Thank you. For everything.” I take a step back into the Labyrinth as the ground begins to buck and shift.
Bael stares resolutely ahead. Then he stills, and I see his chiseled profile as he realizes what I’m doing. “You little—”
“Bye.” I give him a wave as the walls start moving.
Bael lunges toward me.
Too late.
The wall slams shut between us and I hear him slap his palms against the other side. “You’re fucking kidding me. You stole my supplies? We had a truce.”
“This is the bride hunt, Bael. You’ve been more chivalrous than anyone else, but you’re still here for one reason and one reason only. You know more than you’re saying and I don’t trust you.”
“I will find you,” he growls.
“And then you’ll spank me. I know.” I survey the passage. Fog curls along the walls to my right, cutting down visibility. Thorny vines climb the walls to my left.
Lannia said Rhykus was heading in a westerly direction.
“Good luck with your hunt,” I tell him, then bolt into the Labyrinth.
It takes me an hour to find tracks. Five men, all wearing military style boots, and a pair of soft-soled impressions that might indicate Kari’s slippers.
My hunt begins.
The moon gleams overhead as I slip along the dark paths of the Labyrinth, on edge as I listen for every sound. Screams catch my attention, some male, some female. The clash of steel drifts toward me on the wind. And then it’s gone again.
The rain eases off, thank the Gods. It makes it easier to track my prey, for the mud bears their marks clearly, but any more rain may obliterate them. They’re traveling fast. Little spots of blood here and there reveal one of them is bleeding.
A whisper of noise comes from behind. I pause, taking a moment to sip from the waterskin Bael packed as I take stock of my surroundings.
Someone is following me.
Someone preternaturally quiet.
The hairs down my spine lift as I continue, moving faster now.
In three more turns, I find an alcove covered in vines and slip inside, vanishing into the shadows. A dark form materializes in the mist, and I watch him pass, breathing slowly as his footsteps fade.
Bael.
This could become a problem.
What is his purpose? Why has he—
A hand bursts through the vines, snatching at my wrist. I stagger out, swinging a punch, but a hard forearm meets mine, blocking me.
“You son of a—”
Bael slams me against the wall, pinning my right hand high. He has something in his own hands and I fight and writhe as he forces it around my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, as I realize it’s a gold cuff.
The ends click together. The runes on the metal flare gold, then vanish, and the smooth links became one.
“Claiming you as mine,” Bael growls. “This is a silca. You can’t remove it. Only I can. And you leave me little choice, my sweet huntress. If I can’t trust you, then I won’t.”
Incredible. Rage flashes through my veins until my heart races. But I’ve long since learned not to show it.
“With barely even a hint of courtship?” I arch a brow, pressing my palm against his chest, even as the hilt of my purloined dagger slips from my sleeve into my other hand as faithfully as an old lover. “We’ll see about that.”
I spin under his grip, and drive his knife—my knife now—directly at his throat—
The hard flex of his forearm comes up, the blow jarring against my own forearm. Capturing my wrist with deft hands, he spins the strike low, brutal strength forcing me back until my spine meets the wall. Within seconds the tip of my own damn knife is at my throat, and I tilt my chin up desperately.
My chest heaves, shock searing every inch of me.
I’m good.
He’s better.
The faintest hint of a roguish smile curls the right side of his mouth as his breath comes hard. Every inch of his body is pressed against me. “I’m not interested in courtship. But if this is foreplay, then you have my attention.”
“Foreplay?” I bare my teeth at him.
“Or perhaps you’d prefer to skip straight to the spanking?” he growls, putting his face right in mine. “Since I still owe you for that bullshit you pulled in the cells.”
“That’s what this is all about?” Heat fills my cheeks. I am absolutely not going to focus in on his proffered spanking.
“You’ve proven yourself dangerous. And you’re going to get yourself killed if you wander off by yourself, setting fire to everything in this Labyrinth.”
“I set fire to one building,” I shoot back. “And its owner deserved it.”
“Not going to argue that point. But you need someone to watch your back.”
I shake my manacled fist at him. “We had a truce.”
“Is this before or after you stole my pack and ran off? We still have a truce,” he points out. “This merely prevents you from disappearing on me, and means I can track you if you’re captured.”
“And why, by all the Gods, should I go with you? Do you even want to work with me?”
He tilts his head back, arms crossed over his chest as he surveys me.
I snort. “Exactly. I think not.”
I head for one of the exits and then something wrenches me back, slamming me into the ground. I flip over onto my hands and knees, the runes on the manacle around my wrist flaring gold for a second, before fading.
Bael holds up his hand and the matching ring on his finger. The runes on it fade. “You can’t be more than fifteen feet from me while you’re wearing that manacle. We’re trapped together, little lioness, until I choose to release you.”
“Sounds conveniently like something a bride hunter might say to a woman he wanted to claim in truth.”
“I have no intention of making you my bride. You would be a bad choice.”
My eyes narrow as I stand up, brushing myself off. “I would be a deadly choice.”
Bael’s lips quirk in a half-smile. “You would try. And then I would have to thwart you. And while it might be interesting for a while, even I need a good night’s sleep at times. Stubborn, willful, headstrong, defiant… No man in this entire hunt seeks a bride like you.”
“I’m not here to find a… what is it you call a successful hunter? Husband? Master?”
“In my kingdom, we call them mates.”
Mate. I don’t know how I feel about that word. It implies a certain… foreverness that I wasn’t expecting. A… partnership even.
“My people only mate but once,” he murmurs, taking my silence as curiosity. “And once truly mated, we do not forsake each other. Our lives become twined until we share our last breaths on this mortal plane together.”
“That sounds like a lovely fairy tale.”
“And that sounds like an incredible dose of cynicism for one so young.”
“In my kingdom, women are considered possessions by those in power. Once we ruled ourselves, with a fair and just witch queen, but the Knights of Malus brought their Godly ways into our kingdom sixteen years ago, and outlawed the feminine mysteries and magic. Women became breeding stock and our laws were overturned so that women were unable to own property, or even their own children. Those women that disagreed with the knights were burned at the stake, regardless of whether they were witch kin or not. But do you know what I realized? The menfolk of my kingdom might not believe in the Knights of Malus and their religion, but they certainly didn’t speak against them.
If they had, we might have won our freedom.
And now here I am, trapped in a world where I’m literally being hunted for my cunt.
And you’re searching for a… what? Biddable bride?
Tell me what makes you any different to all the others? ”
His eyes narrow again. “I believe in a woman’s choice. That’s what makes me different.”
I hold up my wrist.
“I can’t hunt for your friend, fight off other hunters and make sure you don’t rush headlong into danger whilst my back is turned, all at once.”
Wait. “You’re hunting Kari too?”
“As mentioned, you are not the bride I’m searching for. But your friend fits my needs precisely.”
It’s like a slap to the face. Kari? “You want to claim Kari?”
It makes sense and chases away all those niggling little doubts, but it also raises the question of why he’s flirting with me.
Jealousy twists inside me, but I swallow it down, refusing to let it infect me.
“I want to offer Kari a choice,” he states clearly.
“And it is up to her whether she accepts it or not. You’re my best lead to find her.
I suspect I know where they’re going, but you can track them.
So once again, I offer you a truce. Work with me.
I protect you, and you protect me. Together we find Kari and then make for the end of the Labyrinth, where you can go home if you so desire. ”
I toy with the manacle. Relief settles over me now I know what his intentions are, though I still get the feeling he’s hiding something. “And this?”
Bael scowls. “Stays on. At least until I know I can trust you.”
I consider the proposition for a long, drawn-out moment, before slowly offering my hand again. “Truce.”
This time, I mean it.