Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kragorn
My Kteer howled with pride as I felt Lillian come undone on my hand. The scent of her arousal and release filled the air of the little clearing, and I wished the weather was warmer so I could lay her on the ground and lift her skirts and taste such a sweet flavor.
As she rode my palm, I murmured praise and promises I half-hoped she couldn’t hear. How could I have lost my head so completely over a female in such a short amount of time?
All I knew was that Lillian was mine, and I would never let her go.
Mate.
The word slammed into me so hard that I jerked, pulling her closer to me, causing her to gasp.
There is a kenning.
Nan had told us that our entire lives; we would each know our Mate when we met her, that certainty settling into our souls.
And I felt that now.
In shock, I stared down at the little human in my arms, the one who gripped my cloak and shook with the aftereffects of her orgasm flowing through her.
Mine.
I’d been saying it—thinking it—for days now.
But I hadn’t realized what it meant.
Mate.
I would be bound to this tiny, perfect human for the rest of my life.
“Mine,” I growled.
“Aye,” she murmured, her forehead pressed to my chest again, and I allowed myself a proud grin as my Kteer rumbled approval. ‘Twas good she saw the truth of our future. She would not fight me on this. Lillian knew she was mine, and I was hers.
Mate.
I exhaled and felt my tension leave with my breath.
Soon I would be home with my Mate at my side, and we could put this nightmare behind us.
Soon. The stones were on the other side of this wood, in a clearing in the valley.
Lillian and I would be waiting in the shadows when midnight struck and the veil parted, and we would be safe.
My nightmare was over.
Mayhap, had my Kteer not been so distracted by the feeling of my Mate coming apart in my arms, I would have had warning sooner. But as ‘twas, the first indication something was wrong came not from that primitive part of me, but the sound of boots crunching in the snow at my rear.
I forced my attention away from Lillian, from what my cock so desperately urged, and spun about.
“Kragorn?” she whimpered.
My fingers curled into fists as I lifted my arms, danger dashing my desire like a handful of snow down my kilt.
“Climb, Lillian. Up on top of the boulder.”
“What?”
I could hear the confusion in her tone as she gripped the back of my cloak. “Why?”
“So ye’ll be out of danger.” With a grunt, I wrenched my arms wide, the weakened muscles of my arms fighting against the strength of the steel links of the chain.
“Go now!”
My focus was on the chain, seeking a weakness. I ignored the burn in my muscles and the way the manacles bit into my wrists, fresh blood joining the dried blood on my skin. I pulled, I strained, and with a mighty roar, the chain finally snapped.
I heard Lillian’s gasp behind me, but I shifted my focus to the snowy shadows ahead.
“Get up there, Lillian,” I growled, then raised my voice and my fists. “Human steel is pitiful. My brother could forge something twice this strong in his sleep. Come on then!”
As Lillian scrambled up the boulder behind me, men slipped from the shadows. I glanced over them, assessing dangers and strengths, not entirely surprised Lord Tarbert wasn’t among them.
“He sent ye to do his dirty work, eh?”
The brute in the front, almost as large as an orc, hefted his cudgel. “You’re coming back with us, beast.”
And leave my Mate undefended?
“I think no’,” I growled, lowering my shoulder to meet his attack. We slammed into one another with a grunt, and I quit thinking altogether.
My Kteer took over, howling with glee at the blood and breaking and battle.
I was weak, aye, but not defenseless. The chains which had so recently bound me now became weapons; I wrapped them around my fists to break faces and whipped them about my head to keep attackers back.
But despite this, there were many of them, and I had Lillian to defend, which meant I couldn’t go on the offensive. I kept my back to the boulder, feeling her behind me, tasting her terror. Roaring in outrage, I swung at my attackers, livid that they would threaten my Mate.
The first time a blade slid along my ribs, I bellowed in pain, then cracked the skull of the bastard who did it. Another dead, then another, until a sword pierced my thigh, and my legs buckled beneath me.
The move saved my life as an ax swung over my head, and I used the position to pull my attacker to me, to wrench the blade from my own leg and sink it into his chest. Now I was armed, but there were still so many of them.
Too many.
As blood flowed from my side, I found myself frightened for the first time. Not for me, but for Lillian. Unable to help myself, I glanced up at the boulders, needing to see that she was well.
She clutched her shawl about her, her skin pale with fear, her lips parted and eyes wide as she watched the battle. So much death and destruction for such a gentle soul to watch.
And I was the one dealing it.
My Mate watched me maim and kill. To protect her, aye, but would this change her opinion of me?
A cudgel slammed into my blind side, reminding me of the folly of distraction during a battle, and I went down into the snow, rolling to try to escape the attack. It didn’t work, and when the cudgel—swung by that brute of a human—slammed into my arm, I heard the bones crack.
My roar of pain was matched by Lillian’s scream of terror.
That, more than anything, gave me the strength to push myself to my feet and face my attacker. Breathing heavily and favoring one leg, I lifted my fist, the chain dangling. When had I lost the sword? I couldn’t remember, could only focus on blocking the male’s swings.
I was bleeding from a dozen places, and my ribs ached.
I kept my broken arm pressed against my stomach—partly to immobilize it, partly to stem the bleeding—and blinked away the blood which dripped into my good eye from an injury on my forehead.
My head swam with dizziness, and I felt something leaking from my eye socket.
But despite this, there was something else I realized.
My attacker, the brute with the cudgel, was the only human left standing against me. I was wounded, aye, but so was he. The other males lay in the snow around me, some bleeding, some groaning, as I panted through my pain.
The brute raised his weapon to attack again, and my Kteer—suddenly weary of all this violence—kept me alive once more.
As if in a daze, I lifted my arm to block his punch, but at the last moment twisted so the chain wrapped around his forearm.
I yanked, pulling him toward me, then spun so that my forearm pulled against his throat.
The cudgel dropped from his fingers as he scrabbled ineffectively at my arm as I slowly choked the breath from him.
“Kragorn.”
I heard the whisper over the pounding of the blood in my ears, over my Kteer’s howling for blood. When I glanced up, ‘twas to see Lillian, lips set in determination, reaching for me from atop that boulder.
And I knew.
Tonight, she’d seen me kill to protect myself. Kill humans, mayhap men she knew, although I didn’t recognize any of them from Tarbert. Tonight, I’d killed, but not in cold blood.
And I wouldn’t start now.
The human slumped into unconsciousness, his body finally succumbing to the lack of oxygen. I took a deep breath and loosened my hold, allowing him to slide into the snow beside the rest of his men.
I had eyes only for Lillian.
I limped toward the stones, and she, with a little whimper, fell into my arms.
“Are you…?”
What did she mean to ask?
Are you well?
Are you badly hurt?
Are you going to allow me to go, to return with my father’s men who still live?
And I wasn’t sure how to answer any of those questions.
So I pressed a hard kiss to her temple, inhaling her scent, reminding myself that we were still alive… And I said the only thing I could say.
“Let’s go home.”
Lillian
It was alarming how much of Kragorn’s weight rested on my shoulders as we slogged through the snow toward the circle of stones he’d pointed out in the valley.
I’m not sure at what point I managed to get under his arm, but the fact he hadn’t fought me, and in fact didn’t seem to notice how much of his weight I carried should have been terrifying.
Especially after that battle. After I’d seen him turn into the beast my father had called him.
But mayhap I wasn’t scared because he was relying on me, because he was hurt. He’d been through so much pain, all because of my father, and I owed it to him to make sure he reached his home safely. That was my duty as his hostage after all.
“Lillian,” he murmured.
I glanced up to see his chin dropped to his chest. Blood oozed from his forehead, and I imagined he was dazed as well as in pain.
“I am here.” I tugged us closer to the stones, my legs weak from the burden. “We are close, and I will get you home.”
“Thank ye, Lillian.” His voice was a mere rasp now, and I remembered his roar of pain during the battle. “I’m sorry.”
I forced my legs to carry us further as he stumbled beside me. “There is no reason to apologize—”
“Sorry ye had to see that,” he said hoarsely. “Gentle ladies shouldnae…blood…pain.”
Oh Lord, help him.
“I told you I am no lady.” Here and now, I was his prisoner, aye? His captive. “And I am not scared of blood,” I lied. “I healed you, did I not?”
A snort of breath fogged the air in front of Kragorn’s face. Was that a laugh? “Ye did. Almost home…now.”
I kept my gaze locked firmly on the circle of stones as we approached. The snow in the center was tamped down, or mayhap there was just less snow there than outside the circle? Above us, the full moon hung heavy and round, its light illuminating the valley bright as day.
I wondered if it shone on the battlefield we’d left behind. I wonder if any of the men still lived to report to my father. I wondered if my father had returned safely home, mourning the loss of his favorite horse and favorite cloak.
But not me.
“Almost there,” I vowed, and, as if my words had conjured magic, the middle of the stone circle slowly began to fill with a silvery mist. I pulled us to a stop and Kragorn swayed against me.
“The…veil,” he murmured. “Only open for…hour.”
I twisted my head to look behind us. The blood trail—Kragorn’s thigh and chest were bleeding profusely—was clear against the snow. If any of my father’s men were still alive, they’d be able to follow us.
I took a deep breath, tightened my hold on Kragorn’s belt, and plunged us into the mist.
Despite not being able to see—or feel, or hear—anything through the silvery fog, we stumbled onward. I prayed to see the light from the moon again, and then—
We all but tumbled from the mist, and when I looked up, ‘twas to see I’d fallen into a different world.
The circle of stones still stood in the center of a valley, but whereas before the woods had been a long way off, here they grew closer. The moon shone brightly on a small, cozy-looking cottage, which hadn’t been there before, and the trio of people who watched us.
“Our chief has returned!” I heard the bellow from one of them, and I winced as I turned us in that direction. “Kragorn! Kragorn!”
Then the male was upon us, a fierce-looking orc who threw himself from his saddle to reach for Kragorn.
“He’s hurt,” I managed, glad to shift his weight to the newcomer. “Please help him?”
“Forget me,” Kragorn groaned as the new male took his weight. “Lillian…”
“Where in the hells have ye been, cousin?” the male asked, and as I watched, Kragorn slumped in his arms.
“Hells,” he murmured as his eye closed. “All of them.”
I clutched my shawl around myself and trembled—either from relief or fear or exhaustion—as the newcomer half-carried Kragorn toward the cottage. When another orc suddenly appeared at my side, I gasped and jerked away, but his expression was neutral as he nodded toward the house in invitation.
“Please join us, lass. My Mate will have something warm to drink, and ye can tell us how ye came to save our chief.”
Me? Save Kragorn? I was shaking my head when the male wrapped his arm—and his cloak—around me and turned me toward the cottage. When he noticed my limp, he slowed his own steps, and I realized he only had the one arm. I wanted to ask him where we were, what had happened, what would happen…
But ‘twas not my place. Not anymore.
So, I ducked my head and followed meekly.
The cottage was a hubbub of sound and motion as Kragorn was laid into the bed.
To my surprise, there were two human women there as well, fussing over everyone.
I found myself wrapped in a blanket and sat in front of the fire, my hands curled around a cup of warm tea as one of the women spooned pottage into a bowl.
I wondered if they were honored Mates, as Kragorn had once described, or if they were captives like me. I kept my attention on him in the bed, worrying that his injuries would be too much.
Please live, I found myself praying, although I wasn’t sure if my God could hear me in this world.
“He will be safe,” the blonde woman promised me with a comforting smile as she passed me the bowl of pottage. “We will get him to the village, and his grandmother will be able to cure him.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the food gratefully, keeping my head and gaze down. I wasn’t sure who this woman was, or what my relationship would be to her now that their chief had returned. “You are very kind.”
“My name is Isadora.” Her hand rested briefly on my shoulder. “You clearly care about Kragorn as much as my Mate does. You will be his guest in the village. This is the least we can—”
Unable to have her assume things about me, I forced myself to face her.
“You misunderstand, milady. I am not his guest.”
Isadora’s brows rose in surprise. “Of course you are.”
“Nay,” I whispered, dropping my gaze back to the pottage, swallowing my humiliation. “I am naught. I am his prisoner.”
The other woman jerked her hand away from my shoulder in surprise, and I told myself ‘twas for the best. Here in the orcs’ world I could not have friends, I could not find a place.
I was here for one purpose: as revenge for Kragorn’s treatment at my father’s hands. I didn’t think he would make me suffer the same as he had suffered, but I could not deny why I was here:
I was Kragorn’s captive.