by Seth Eden
After a few seconds of silence, she chanced a look at his face. Exactly the same. Empty. Devoid of emotion. His dark hair had come undone and was now plastered to his forehead and cheeks. His skin glistened with perspiration and was marred with several bruises and wounds.
Good, she told herself. It was what he deserved for everything he’d done. Ruining her life, taking her love...
Her chest cramped again with a new ache. She knew she didn’t have the tears left to satisfy it.
“Nothing. I only needed you to keep me alive so that False King and his bitch wouldn’t kill me right then and there.”
Her hands clenched around her knees, nails digging into the skin. Oh, how she wished she had a weapon to drive into his heart. She didn’t care if he stopped her with his magic or shifted so quickly that the weapon would be nothing more than a toothpick in his hide.
“Don’t talk about her like that!” she screamed. Why was this man so eager to push all of her buttons? Why was he trying to piss her off so much?
He said nothing as to her outburst, merely shook his head and pulled her up to her feet. He didn’t have time for this, nor did he have the patience to deal with her emotional outbursts. He had a brother to find, and she was going to be the quickest way to get to him... if he really gave a damn about her.
Samantha, in all her ire and panic, struggled as much and as hard as she could. Kicking, biting, screaming... none of it worked. His grip was rock hard and he was too stocky for her to affect his weight.
“Let go of me!”
“No. I still need you.” He grunted as he continued to drag her behind him.
Samantha gathered and spat at his back, digging her nails into his skin out of revenge. He didn’t react, of course. His words had placed a savage, nauseating knot in her stomach. She didn’t want to consider that Ethan had given up on her and that their entire relationship had been a sham... to what end? What possible reason could Ethan have had to use her like that? She wasn’t powerful, had no meaningful connections here... then why would he want a relationship with her of all people?
She needed to get away. Not like last time. Last time, they’d rendered her unconscious and shoved her onto a ship against her will. They’d taken her from the only place she’d ever known as home and dumped her onto an alien planet where she was supposed to try and make do.
And now this strange man was forcing her to do the same all over again. The fear that enveloped her was thick and hazy, and she couldn’t unsee the shifter as the snarling, drooling face of Torfan, the wolf-alien who’d seen to her city being reduced to rubble. The way he’d smile always sent chills down her spine, made her feel ill, just as she did now.
Samantha shrank within herself once she had no more energy to give. Retreated into her own mind to find somewhere that felt safe. Behind her eyes, however, she could find no such place. Misfortune clung to her like a stubborn tick on a dog, sucking her dry until she would have nothing left to give.
He could smell her disappointment and fear, and that twisted something inside him. It shouldn’t have; he’d been hardening himself for years out here in the wilderness, looking for the best opportunity to strike to get back at his brother for everything he’d done. And now this woman was going to have to suffer for it.
“I wouldn’t feel too bad if I were you,” he said quietly as he clawed his way through a tangle of vines before him. “He deceives people who care about him. It’s how I ended up like this.” He turned to draw his fingers over the scars on his face.
“We were best friends at one point. Inseparable. We would have done anything for the other. Until the promise of power was all he could focus on. He’d smile face-to-face and sharpen his dagger behind his back. And when he got what he wanted, the False King went along with him, spinning some story to keep the people happy, made me out to be the villain in all of this as long as Ethan kept their secret.”
Why he was telling her any of this, Samantha didn’t care. There was no reason for her to put an ounce of faith into any of it. For one, none of it made any sense at all. A huge conspiracy like that would have taken a lot of money under the table to keep everyone involved quiet. Secondly, there was no reason to believe this guy was speaking the truth. He was likely spinning a tale to get her on his side so that when - or if - Ethan ever showed up, she would have no reason to stand up for him. Painted as the antagonist in all of this, it would be easier for this man to tear him down from the inside out.
Finally, through all his efforts, the vines fell away to reveal a structure beneath it all. A rocky cave carved out of the cliffside, covered with greenery and the like to keep it hidden. With the way clear, he grabbed her wrist and led her inside.
Samantha was done fighting. There was nothing she could really do against his strength.
Once inside, the man stepped away from her, shuffling through the dark until a mote of orange cast a small glow on the interior. It flickered, grew steady, and then flared a little with life. A candle stood beneath it, tall and dark. The man continued on to another, repeating the same ritual.
The more the light grew, the more Samantha came to appreciate the interior. The inside of the hovel was actually much bigger than it appeared from the outside. The air was warm and a little humid, but the place definitely looked lived in. A couch to one side, a bed in the far corner, and there were several passageways off the main room that led to who knew where. She would have been a little more impressed if the circumstances were different.
A pained grunt stole her attention away and she saw her captor stumble through one of the doorways into an unknown room. The sound of running water surprised her, but she stilled her curiosity. She wasn’t here to discover the marvels of this place. She wanted out and as soon as possible.
A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the entryway right there. Even if he was only gone for a few seconds, she could sprint as far as her feet could take her... and then what? Wander around in a confusing forest for the rest of her life? There was no doubt that he would find her sooner than that anyway and return her here, where she would remain to serve as the carrot to dangle in front of Ethan’s nose.
Being free was better than waiting here.
She propelled herself towards the door, grabbed the edges of the entrance, and pulled herself through. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she ran, knowing that one misstep, one glance over her shoulder, could spell her end. Where she was going, she didn’t care. She just picked a direction and ran, hoping that if she went fast enough, she would lose herself in the thick undergrowth and out of his line-of-sight.
Faster, faster, faster, she told herself, willing her already-aching legs to keep going. Just when she felt her lungs about ready to burst, she continued even further. She wasn’t going to stop for anything, not even the small creatures that yelped and scurried from beneath her feet. The cool dirt between her toes offered a little padding to her steps, saving her feet from the aches that came with a harsher terrain.
She ran for what felt like forever until her body couldn’t take anymore. Her lungs burned for oxygen and her legs felt like jelly, to the point that they gave out under her once she stopped running. On her hands and knees, she could feel her pulse pounding in her head at a pace that was quite troubling. She needed to calm down before she passed out, needed to get her breathing regularly once more so that she could-
No, she had to keep going. That man was likely hot on her trail already and if she stopped any longer, it would be easier for him to catch up with her. Despite her body’s needs, she had to keep going. A slow jog would have to do, but that was better than nothing.
The sun’s dip behind the horizon drew her into darker and darker territories until she was forced to slow her pace. Running was no longer an option, with the large unseen roots in her path threatening to trip her over. She continued to stumble blindly forward, her hands searching for any surface to help guide her in the right direction.
Until they touched something warm. She
recoiled quickly with a gasp and didn’t dare to move. The surface was hard, almost rock-like, but any sized boulder would be cold to the touch. No, this was something else.
Just into view above her, she spotted something quite large and orange rolling through the blackness towards her. It was only when it was almost on top of her that she realized it was a large eyeball drawing closer to get a good look at her. Larger and larger it grew until orange was all she could see.
Samantha, appropriately, screamed.
A force sent her sprawling to the ground, knocking more wind out of her. She was about to roll over and take a swing at whatever it was that had tackled her when a feral, high-pitched scream filled the air above her. She could see nothing of the orange eye but she could hear the sound of something wet falling to the ground. It didn’t sound much different than a waterfall splashing against rocks... until the wetness of the substance sounded... thicker.
“Get down!”
That voice. It was unmistakable.
A hand pressed her head back to the dirt seconds before she heard something heavy collide with her kidnapper. His grip was gone with the sound of a quiet grunt, and then the much-louder sound of him colliding with something else. It came from far behind her and she wondered just how far he’d been thrown. In the pitch blackness, however, she couldn’t chance to take a look. Nor could she risk making another move. She didn’t know where or what this thing was, or how big it stood. The last thing she wanted to do was run into it again and have it throw her across the forest. No, she was better off remaining stock still, even if that meant lying her for hours.
At least this gave her the chance to catch her breath.
There was only soft whimpering above her now and the wet splashing sound had stopped. The keen grew quieter and quieter, but she couldn’t be sure if the things had actually left or if its pain was subsiding.
She didn’t get to ponder for very long on that thought when a hand touched her shoulder. She flailed and fought, afraid that this was some other creature trying to make a meal out of her when she saw the unnatural “glow” of his dark eyes.
“It’s me.”
And yet, that wasn’t any more comforting. From the frying pan and into the fire.
“That was pretty dumb of you to run out here like that.” His grip recaptured her arm once more and forced her forward.
“I’m so sorry for inconveniencing you in your continued conquest to ruin my entire life.”
He jerked her by the arm and whispered harshly in her ear as they continued forward.
“Believe me, you’re not that special. And I promised that False King that I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. I intend to keep my word, despite... everything.”
“How about you explain what your beef is with Dominic? He’s been nothing but generous and kind since I’ve been here. There isn’t even a monarchy anymore, in case you haven’t noticed. Why do you keep calling him the False King?”
Dominic? That name didn’t seem right. That wasn’t who held the throne the last time he’d...
He cleared his throat.
“Before this Dominic, who sat on the throne?”
“His father?” Samantha thought that was a weird question to ask since it seemed pretty commonplace how monarchies worked.
“His father was... Neiman?”
“I think so?” She’d never really paid much attention to names. Ethan had spoken about so many when he came home from work that it was hard to keep track of it all.
To Zen, however, the name Neiman sounded familiar. That changed everything. He’d been out here so long, remaining off the radar that he’d missed the news of the king’s death. That mistaken identity meant he’d made things worse for himself.
What he couldn’t do was let her in on his mistake. That would make him appear to be even more of a fool.
The walk back to his hideaway was much shorter than Samantha had expected. She felt like she’d been running for miles, and yet it took roughly twenty minutes of walking to return. The darkness, she figured, was mostly to blame for that deception of the mind.
“If you don’t want to become food for something else, I’d highly recommend you remain in here for the night. And you’re welcome, by the way.” He shoved her inside and grabbed a handful of vines to pull over the entryway. The interior was still glowing with candlelight, which made it easier for her not to fall onto the table he’d almost pushed her into.
“If you expect me to start showing you gratitude, then you’re going to have a long wait.” She sat with her back against the nearest wall, not wanting to accommodate herself to any of the other comforts in the room. Too many movies had informed her that wasn’t something hostages got to enjoy.
“You would be dead before then, I’m sure.” Another series of groans escaped him as he lumbered into the room and fell onto the couch. In this lighting, she could see that he’d suffered even more at the hands of the creature out there. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and there was a dark stain along his lower back that looked like a horrible bruise. There were other wounds as well, likely the ones he’d suffered at the hands of Dominic and Jen, but they looked like they were already on their way to healing.
But there was no room for pity in her heart. He’d brought this upon himself as far as she was concerned.
“Now, before I was rudely interrupted with your escape, I’m going to be in the bathroom trying to clean this shit off me. If you’re hungry, the icebox has dried meat and cheese and there’s fresh water if you’re thirsty.”
He didn’t wait for a response before ducking into the same room as before.
The suggestion of food inspired Samantha’s stomach to turn painfully. She was supposed to have had lunch with Jen earlier that day, only for it to all be ruined with this nonsense. That meant she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and that meal had been quite light.
She tiptoed carefully to each doorway, looking for whatever this icebox was supposed to be. Spying a stack of plates on a table and something that looked like a sink in one of the side rooms, she was convinced this was the kitchen and intensified her search. The only “box” she could find was no more than a foot tall and half a foot wide, which left her disappointed that this small thing could contain any real kind of meal.
That didn’t stop her from grabbing whatever she could, however. Without any lit candles in the kitchen, she pulled everything she could get her hands on and gathered it into the lap of her dress. She carefully tottered back into the main room and sat with her prize. Several blocks of cold cheese and container upon container of what she thought looked like roast beef were stacked by her feet, each one examined in turn to determine which one she would start with. The smells wafted into her nostrils and made her mouth water; her stomach turned again and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer.
Zen slowly sank himself into the bath, nothing more than some hot water in a small metal tub. He hissed in pain with every inch he sank deeper until he touched bottom. The tiny tub didn’t afford him a lot of space so he had to hug his knees to his chest just to sit comfortably. Slowly, the water around him grew more and more red from his bleeding wounds, and the sting grew less and less painful as his body went to work trying to repair itself.
“Stupid woman…” He gathered water into his hands and scrubbed at his face, desperate to get the sweat and dirt of the day off his skin. His back still ached something terribly. He would be lucky if he even slept well tonight, worried that that woman would try to take off again.
He ran his wet hands over the shaved sides of his scalp and through his hair, letting the hot water remove the beginnings of a headache. What was supposed to have been a simple task had devolved into a messy pile of trouble he didn’t know how he was going to get out of. And without Ethan, everyone was already assuming the worst and painting him out to be the villain once more. He slammed a fist into the water, sending some of it splashing onto the floor. He couldn’t believe this was happening again, jus
t when he thought he could redeem himself and have a chance at a normal life again.
“I’m sorry, Senna. I’ve failed you,” he whispered to the steam rising to the ceiling, watched as it condensed against the smooth rock surface, and drip back down. He would never fulfill his obligations, it seemed.
5
Maybe it was the hardness of the ground, the strange smell of her surroundings, or the loud clanking that woke Samantha, but she found herself pleasantly warm despite the interruption of her sleep. Her hands roamed over her to find a healthy pile of several blankets on top of her. Had the events only been a dream? Was she back in her own bed, with Ethan making her a wonderful breakfast downstairs?
Bleary-eyed, she peered from beneath the covers to find only disappointment. The events of yesterday had been no dream. She was still the prisoner of some madman who wouldn’t give her a straight answer about anything.
Close your eyes, she told herself. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. Being unconscious is better than being here.
For a time, she would drift off, too. The thin fingers of sleep would drag her back into the comfortable nothingness, stealing her away from this “prison.” Here, there were no problems, no concerns. Just peace. Here, she could dwell in it and continue pretending as if nothing outside her mind was real.
But Zen was the kind to rise early and he didn’t care about being considerate of his “guest.” He had things to do, information to gather, and that was more important than her comfort.
He moved noisily around the room, willing his body through the aches and pains. Everything was still tender but still much better after his hot bath last night. Some food would definitely help...?
What the...?
When Zen looked inside, he found the icebox completely empty. That wasn’t right. He was sure he restocked the other day...
Then he remembered telling that woman last night to help herself to a meal.
