by K. A Knight
Looking over my shoulder, I see the eaters still giving chase, but as I watch, we start to lose them, the truck too fast, and eventually I can’t see them anymore. Blowing out a breath, I concentrate on driving, following the dirt path through the mountains.
I finally see why we had to wait for daylight. There, up ahead, is a tiny corner that I would have never noticed, but I do now. Swinging the truck right, I almost slam into the rockface I jumped down last night, and instead we head through a tiny passage, the sides of the truck scraping along the walls until we break free on the other end and into what looks like a slowly inclining hill leading to the mountain.
“Sure as fuck hope the truck makes it,” I mutter as I change gears, and slam my foot back down on the pedal.
“It will,” he states calmly, as the head rolls around the dash, leaving a trail of blood.
We drive steadily up the rockface, my heart hammering in my chest and my hands gripping the wheel. At any moment, I expect the vehicle to give out and go rolling back, but we keep going, and only when I see a darkness ahead, do I squint and steer towards it.
It turns out to be a hole into a cave, a big cave, and when I see the trucks waiting inside, I know we are almost there, so I stamp on the accelerator and we shoot forward, heading right for the gap.
We skid into what appears to be a transportation hangar, and I pull on the handbrake, breathing heavily as I look around. “We made it,” I whisper, and then whoop, staring at Clay. “We made it!” I shout louder, and a clapping comes from the right-hand side.
“That you did,” the pascha says as he steps forward. “Clay?”
Clay nods. “Was waiting at the bottom of the mountain to alert when she was back,” he replies, and then winks down at me as he climbs from the car and offers me his hand. I accept, wincing at my back as I hop down. When my feet hit the sand-covered floor, I look at the pascha.
“I did it, I passed your test…now will you keep your end of the deal?” I inquire, feeling nerves starting to build in my stomach as he stares at me.
“Come with me,” is all he says, and then he turns and starts to walk away, so of course I run after him.
He takes me to a chamber where a deep blue pool with smoke rising from it awaits. He looks to me then. “Bathe and then dress,” he commands, before leaving me with Clay.
I turn to him with a frown. “Is this normal?”
He nods, returning to his silent ways.
“When will I see my men?”
“Soon,” is all he says, and then he crosses his arms, his legs braced apart, and watches me without any hint of humility or shyness as he waits. He doesn’t plan to turn away, and asking him to would show weakness. He is, after all, a warrior. A mountain man, rough and untamed. He waits, his mismatched eyes observing, anticipating…assessing.
“Do not keep the pascha waiting, little warrior, he is not a patient man,” he rumbles.
Nodding, I keep my eyes on his, wanting to see a reaction as I slip off my top and bra, and then kick off my boots and trousers until I stand bare before him. His eyes do not drop, they are still locked on mine.
Turning my back on him, I step into the pool, the warm water making me sigh as I sink in deeper until I am submerged, washing away the blood, sweat, and battle.
When I break the surface again, I turn my head to see my mountain man sitting on a rock, sharpening his swords with a whetstone as he watches me, not the least bit ashamed for me to see him staring, but now, in those eyes, I see something…something no doubt reflected back in mine.
Hunger.
Why does this man call to me? I have three, yet I find myself drawn to him…I do not know. A problem for another day, one where I don’t have three worried lovers waiting and a pascha of a mountain to submit to.
I wash quickly, the pool rinsing away my pain and the exhaustion in my muscles. I can actually feel my back mending and the pain…the pain is disappearing. “How?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“Minerals and salts from deep in the earth, they gather in this natural pool. Good for healing and rejuvenating, nature’s medicine,” he reasons and I smile.
“Bloody hell, you have magic water,” I tease, and he laughs, throwing back his head and letting it boom around the cavern.
“Magic water, as you wish, little warrior. Now come, I have your clothes.” He puts away his weapons and stands, pulling a parcel wrapped in brown material and twine from behind him. There is no towel, so I step towards the edge and he extends a hand, helping me over the pool’s lip and back onto the cold cave floor.
This time, I see his eyes drop to my body, it’s not a quick, sneaky look either. He takes his time, running his gaze across every inch of skin until I know he could point out every scar or birthmark. I stand taller, his eyes giving me confidence, his hunger calling to mine. Licking at my lips, I reach for the parcel in his hands. He holds it for me as I undo it to reveal a small leather binding of sorts and some black trousers.
I pick up the brown leather, noticing it’s a top, one which will show off my stomach, arms, and cleavage.
“It is tradition, and necessary,” is all he says.
Well, okay then. I hold up my arms, knowing I can’t get into it alone, and he places the rest on the rock before stepping forward and helping me pull the top over my head. His knuckles graze the sides of my breasts, and I inhale sharply as his eyes flicker to mine, watching me as he does it again on purpose as he tugs it down and settles it into place. It feels like a second skin, hugging my breasts and protecting my ribs, ending just before my navel. It’s not restricting, and I thought I would feel naked, but if anything, I feel…feel like a warrior.
He grabs my trousers and kneels before me, holding them out. Resting my hand on his shoulder, I lift one leg and then the other as he slips the fabric over my feet and up my ankles, his pinky finger tracing along my bare leg as he draws them up and settles them low on my hips. They are tight fitting as well, but with enough give to move. Only then do I realize I am still touching him and his head is level with my pussy.
His eyes slide up to mine as he sits at my feet. “Are you ready, little warrior?”
“For what?” I ask, my voice slightly breathless.
“Your future,” is all he says.
How fucking ominous.
We leave the cave, and I follow him through the winding passages until we somehow end up back in the throne room where I see my men, The Lost, and the pascha all waiting for me. Lanterns and fires line the way, an entry made between the droves of people. Clay storms down the middle with me behind him. My men wait near the pascha, their eyes running over me in relief. All I can do is smile at them. I have a feeling that if I break whatever tradition this is and race to their side, it would be bad.
When we reach the front, Clay drops to his knees before the pascha and then gets back to his feet to stand at my side. A stomping starts, the crowd chanting until the pascha rises, then it goes silent. He waits for a moment before addressing the throng.
“Warriors, you are gathered here for a proclamation for one outside of our ranks and mountains, one who sought to prove herself and has done so a thousand-fold. A true warrior, Piper of The Forgotten, do you accept our title?” he calls.
“I do,” I reply, not really sure what I’m accepting…like, do we have a contract? Is there a reunion? A dress code? Who knows, but it sounds fun and it’s not really the time to ask, so for once I remain quiet.
“Clay, do the honours,” Pascha orders, and then looks at me. “Kneel, warrior.”
I do so, but tilt my head back and meet his eyes, making him smile as Clay kneels before me, a bowl of black ink in his grasp. He dips his fingers into it, swirling them around before lifting them. “A warrior’s mark is to be worn with pride,” the pascha booms.
Clay meets my eyes with a smile, and I reach up and grasp his beard, tugging on it to gain his attention. “Don’t draw a dick,” I joke quietly, before letting go.
I can see him fighting back a
smile as he ducks his head and his cold fingers touch my bare stomach. I jump at the first touch, but steel myself as I feel him painting an intricate pattern. I don’t look, not wanting to see it until it’s done. It’s strange, but I trust this man implicitly.
When he pulls his fingers away, he looks up at me with a frown before turning to his pascha. “Red,” he calls, and I watch the curious smile that crosses the one-eyed leader’s face. No one moves until that man nods, and then suddenly there is a bowl of red paste before Clay. He turns back to me and carries on painting before sitting back. He observes his artwork with a smile and then stands, offering me his hand. The pascha steps forward and gives me his as well. I accept them both and they hoist me to my feet.
“You are lost no longer,” he calls, and it echoes around the cavern, a cry of my new people. I raise my head from the bowed position as he beckons me to stand, my marks standing out proudly on my stomach and chest. “For when we are lost, we are waiting to be found…Piper, you have been found. You are worthy, you are one of us. For you, we will fight!”
A cheer goes up, and I wink at my men as the pascha addresses me. “They are yours, but they must come willingly. Call your warriors,” he instructs, and turns back and sits on his throne.
Okay, er…here goes nothing.
I turn to face the crowd, scanning the hundreds of faces all staring back at me. Each and every one a warrior.
“Who will stand and fight with me?” I call, legs braced, my warrior’s mark on display.
A chant goes up, but men hesitate, though, until Clay drops to his knees before me, two blades held in a cross above his chest. “I, Clay of The Lost, stand with you, little warrior. I will fight, and I will stand and die at your side if the gods will it.”
With his declaration comes a ripple, and voices call out as men and women step forward until I have more warriors than I know what to do with. Clay joins me at my side.
“You’re their pascha now. They will follow you to this war and the gates of hell. Do not lead us wrong.” He stares down at me as the weight of the responsibly hits me.
A pascha. A leader.
But to me, I still feel like Piper, I hope that is enough.
Twenty-Four
Pascha
After my proclamation, I am allowed to rest, and we retreat to Clay’s house. My body is exhausted, but as soon as we get into the privacy of the dwelling, I am embraced by my men. I know the warriors, my warriors now, are preparing to leave. Tomorrow, I lead them from their mountain and to war, but tonight, tonight I get to enjoy my men.
A burden of command.
They check me over, their words mixing together as they talk rapidly until Evan shouts at the other two to back off, taking charge as he examines my back. He declares that I don’t need stitches, but cleans it and wraps it, and with a narrow-eyed look at me warns me to rest.
“Yes, Evvie.” I grin and he sighs, leaning closer and kissing me.
“Fucking worst twenty-four hours of my life. Thought I was done being without you. Never again,” he snaps.
“Never again,” I agree, and kiss him back before Archel tosses him to the bed effortlessly and takes his place.
“Never doubted you, Princess.” He smirks before dipping me for a kiss, making Evan shout about being careful even as I laugh. He spins me into Jago’s awaiting arms, who wraps me up, making me sigh at the warmth and feeling of family. “Missed you, Brawler,” he murmurs.
“Missed you too, big guy,” I reply, and cuddle into his embrace.
“She needs to rest,” Evan snaps, and I sigh, kissing him before heading over to the bed and jumping on it.
“Resting, see?” I snark, noticing Clay sitting by the fire, watching us. They follow my gaze and watch him before looking back at me.
“Oh God,” Evan groans knowingly.
I regard my guys with a smile. “Can we keep him?” I ask.
“He’s not a fucking pet, Brawler, he’s a crazy madman who likes to blow people up and kill them!” Jago protests.
Archel snickers. “We keep you and you kill people.”
“And don’t forget we have an assassin and not to mention Piper’s propensity for blowing things up,” Evan interjects.
“One time!” I yell, and turn to him. “You blow people up one time and they never let you forget it!”
“Do I get a say in this?” Clay calls from the fire, and we all look at him.
“No,” we say in unison, which makes me smile.
A yawn splits my lips and I fall back onto the surprisingly comfortable large bed. “We’ll talk about you keeping a pet mountain man tomorrow,” Archel teases. “Tonight, rest, Princess.”
They climb on around me then and pull me into their arms and heat. With them I’m not a leader. Not a pascha or a commander. I am simply Piper.
My eyes find Clay’s in the light of the fire, and I watch it dance in his mismatched gaze before I sleep.
I wake up warm, the snoring of my men surrounding me. I’m on my back, their arms and legs thrown across me in slumber. Blinking away the sleep, I look down at the drawing Clay did yesterday for the first time.
It consists of lines and marks, black outlined in red. One looks like a sword, the other is like the zigzagging of the mountain. It is beautiful, and when I touch it, I realise it is dried and not the least bit uncomfortable.
“It is the story of your test,” comes his rumble, and I lift my head to see him standing at the edge of the bed, watching me. “Come, little warrior, you must eat. Today we leave our mountain and follow you into a strange world. You will need your strength.” He turns then and disappears, allowing me time to wake my men and get up.
“Ugh, tell your new pet it’s too early,” Evan laments and snuggles closer, dragging me away from Jago, which starts a tug-of-war between them until I grunt, slip from their grasp, and kneel on the bed, looking at my three sleepy lovers.
“Come on, wake up,” I demand, and Jago opens one eye, grins at me, and goes back to sleep. “That’s an order from your pascha.” I sniff, raising my chin in the air and crossing my arms.
Archel laughs at me—laughs! “She’s cute when she tries to get all bossy on us.”
“That’s an order,” Jago mocks, making my mouth drop open.
“It’s an order!” I huff, and Archel opens his eyes, flips onto his back, and stretches like a giant cat.
“Yeah, we hear you, Princess. Bring that adorable ass over here and order us to do something more interesting,” he teases.
“Damn it, I’m a leader now, you should listen to me,” I whine, not at all leader-like.
Jago darts up, grabs me, and pulls me back into his arms, barring me there as he locks his legs around me. “Sleep,” he commands, and then closes his eyes as I just lie there as his captive.
“I need more submissive men,” I mutter.
“Nah, you like us rough and dominant.” Archel laughs, making me blush slightly.
“My mountain man would listen.” I pout.
“Then find him and be quiet. Don’t you know we are trying to sleep?” Evan grumbles, but kisses my shoulder to lessen the blow.
“I’m hungry,” I say, and that gets them moving. They are out of bed and dressed before I can even sit up.
“Come on then, Brawler, why didn’t you say so?” Jago growls.
“Yeah, Princess,” Archel adds.
“All you had to do was ask, Pip,” Evan chimes in.
Dear God, what have I done?
By the time I’m dressed, Clay is back with enough food to feed, well, an army…or my guys. I watch them devour it with an open mouth. Even while they eat like animals, they still make sure to pass me a bit of everything until I can’t eat anymore, then they finish off what I left.
They even start talking to Clay as I watch, and I notice he fits in with us seamlessly. Joking with Archel about weapons and comparing swords with Jago, even discussing the medical properties of the water and plants they have here with Evan. It’s like he w
as made to be with us.
“So, Clay,” I start, and he turns to look at me. “When will the warriors be ready?”
I’m conscious of the time it will take us to travel home, grab our warriors, and then get to the front line. We don’t want to be late for the war. “In a few hours,” he informs me. “Not to fear, little warrior, they are all excited and nearly ready. It has been a long time since they tested themselves in battle.”
“Crazy mountain people,” Evan mumbles, making Clay laugh.
“Good, can you show me to the bathroom? I just had to pee into the rock last night, I really don’t want to repeat that.” I ask him, rising from the table. They all jump up and my eyes widen. “I meant Clay, unless anyone else knows where it is? In which case you are all assholes watching as I almost peed on the poor people down below.”
The others sit down, making me laugh, as the mountain man leads me from his home and to a cave a few feet away. He points at a hole and then turns and protects the entrance of the cave. Well, that’s one item off the bucket list.
I finish my business and wash my hands in some water coming down from the ceiling before shaking them dry and tapping his back. He grins and leads me back to his house where we spend the next few hours helping him pack and just learning how to be with each other. He will be spending a lot of time with us, after all, and he knows how to command the warriors, which I will need.
When he is ready, we head to the throne hall where the pascha is waiting. He embraces Clay before looking at me. “Good battle, Pascha Piper, may the gods smile at you.” He nods and I shake his hand and turn to face the awaiting warriors.
They are all staring at me, waiting for my command.
Gazing at the amassed warriors, I look to Clay for courage and a guiding hand. He doesn’t disappoint. Those mismatched eyes meet mine with a confidence I could never fake.
