Hollen the Soulless: A Fantasy Romance (Dokiri Brides Book 1)

by Denali Day

  Had there been anywhere for her to run, Joselyn would be gone already. She was a caged animal, her nails scraping the wall behind her as she flexed her fingers to strike.

  “What is your name?” the man asked. He lowered his arms and leaned backward, as though trying to lend her space without giving up ground.

  Joselyn frowned, still panting. The man sighed and licked his lips. He spoke again. “I am Hollen the Soulless. Salig of Bedmeg of the Dokiri people. I—”

  Joselyn lunged to the side, trying to dart around him. When he stuck his arms out to catch her, she ducked low and slipped past.

  “Va kreesha!” The man swore when he grasped at empty air.

  Just like that, he resumed the chase. Joselyn ran back the way she’d come, searching for an alternate route. She didn’t make it far. An arm swept around her and pulled her off the ground. She screamed, and the sound echoed off the craggy walls. She thrashed and kicked, but her blows didn’t phase him as he wrapped both arms about her waist and held her to him.

  “Peace, woman!” he pleaded. He turned his face away from her flailing hands.

  “Let me go!” she screamed, as he brought them both to the ground. He settled her on his lap, her back to his front. He caught her wrists and held them out. Joselyn bucked, trying to get back to her feet. It was no use. The man was too strong. She let out a pitiful cry.

  “Shh! Easy! Easy!”

  Eventually Joselyn stilled. She could not free herself. No man had ever laid his hands upon her. No man would have dared. Her father would have ordered him imprisoned or worse. Her virtue was a commodity worth far more than any one man’s life. Sitting here now, pressed against his knees, Joselyn was utterly helpless. She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting her fate.

  Nothing happened. A long moment passed, her breaths gradually slowing as the adrenaline subsided. What was happening? Who was this man? Why had the dragon carried her here? Fear twisted inside her as she remembered what she’d tried to recall in the sky. An old legend, one of great dragon-riding demons who stole unsuspecting maidens from the lands below their mountains, raped them, then fed them to their winged steeds.

  “What do you want?” Joselyn whimpered. She strained away from the close contact.

  The man’s grip around her wrists relaxed, though he didn’t release her. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Please, let me go!”

  “If you keep running this direction, my mount will see you alone and devour you.” It might have been a threat except for his coaxing tone.

  “I’ll not run—I swear it. Please release me.” She fixed her eyes down the shadowy tunnel ahead.

  After a moment, his massive hands eased their grip. Joselyn snapped her arms forward and jumped from his lap. She landed on the ground in front of him, turned, and scrambled backward until she reached the edge of the tunnel. Walking her hands up the wall, Joselyn got to her feet and stared her attacker down.

  He remained on his knees, staring back just as intently. He was so large, even on his knees. What could she do? Would he rise? Lunge at her? Command her to approach?

  He said nothing. Did nothing.

  “What do you want with me?” Joselyn asked.

  “What’s your name?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “I’m Hollen the Soulless,” he said again.

  “Why didn’t that beast attack?” she demanded. She itched to confirm her suspicion.

  “He’s already eaten today.” A corner of his mouth twitched. “He’s broken to my will, and I didn’t want him to attack you.”

  Joselyn’s mouth fell open. “A dragon cannot be tamed.”

  “He doesn’t bear me upon his back out of good nature, I assure you.”

  Joselyn blinked. So the legend was true? How much of it? “You ordered that thing to steal me away?”

  He nodded.

  “Why? What do you want from me?” Her body stiffened as she prepared to bolt again. As if sensing this, he shifted forward on his knees.

  “Yourself.”

  “You have me! What are you waiting for?”

  How could her life have come down to this? When she still had a duty, a purpose to fulfill? Fear turned to rage in her veins. She wouldn’t die without a fight. Joselyn searched for a vulnerable spot to sink her claws.

  The man’s mouth fell open and he shook his head. He extended his palms to her again in that pleading gesture. “Easy, woman. I’ll not harm you. I brought you here to be my bride.”

  Joselyn gaped at him. She waited for him to laugh, to grin, even to attack her. Anything to indicate his obvious insanity. Instead he watched her, waiting, she realized, for a response.

  “Why me?” she blurted.

  “I’ve been watching you for days, waiting for the right opportunity to bring you to the mountain. Today I got my chance.”

  “You saw a strange woman from the sky and just”—she shrugged—“decided to make her your wife?”

  The man, Hollen, was silent.

  “You’re mad,” Joselyn said, more to herself than to him.

  He straightened, his expression darkening. “I am Na Dokiri. It is my right to claim you.”

  “Dokiri.” Joselyn tested the new word on her own tongue.

  “It means ‘He Who Conquers,’ ” the man explained, an edge of pride in his voice. “My people are the Dokiri of the Bedmeg clan. I’m the eldest son of Sven the Collector and I have claimed you as my bride. So you shall be.”

  Joselyn strained for words. Be it owed to madness or pride, he was so brazen that she was almost impressed. But it wasn’t to be borne. Indignation roiled up. “How dare you?”

  “It is already done. I have chosen you by right.”

  “By what right?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am?”

  The man rose to his feet, taking a step backward. Joselyn stiffened against the wall. Some of her nerve wilted.

  “This mountain is stained with the blood of my people. The Dokiri guard all the earth below from the many evils which lurk within. My own blood mingles with those who have fallen protecting you and the other lowlanders.”

  Joselyn listened, her trepidation remounting. This man was deluded. Likely unstable. He continued his speech.

  “By the right of Earth and Sky I claim you as my reward. You will be the mother of my sons and Saliga of my people. I would know your name.”

  She stared at him, stunned. “Joselyn. My name . . .is Joselyn.”

  He smiled. Creases lit the sides of his cheeks, and a tingle of awareness crept down her spine. He was beautiful. Strikingly so. She'd been so overwrought she'd failed to notice. A wild, beautiful, madman. And his smile was for her.

  Focus, Joselyn. Command this situation.

  She forced herself to step away from the wall. “I am Joselyn Fury, Lady of House Fury,” she said, her voice much clearer than before.

  Get his attention. Introduce the stick.

  “My father is an heir to the throne of Morhagen. He will have you killed when he learns what you’ve done. For a crime such as this? A swift public beheading will be in order.”

  The barbarian listened, his attention rapt as though she were the most fascinating thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Joselyn swallowed.

  Now for the carrot.

  “But,” Joselyn said, recalling her father’s many passive lessons in leveraging, “if you return me to my men, I’ll see that you are paid your weight in gold as your reward and a symbol of goodwill toward your people. I can guarantee the payment out of my own dowry settlement.”

  Hollen tilted his head. “I’m not surprised you’re a woman of esteem. But your title, and that of your father, mean nothing to me or my people.”

  He was dismissing her? Just like that? Joselyn gritted her teeth. This never happened. Joselyn wasn’t one to hold her nobility over others, but she’d always been treated with the utmost respect by default. Now she realized just how great her privilege was. How vital. Joselyn snapped to gain the advan
tage.

  “I’m to be lady of two great houses in less than a fortnight.” Joselyn stretched the truth of House Viridian, trying to inspire fear in this wild man who seemed so unruffled by her threats. “My husband would have you bled in the square for all to see! You would be wise to—”

  “—You’re married?” he asked, his voice dark and tense.

  “I . . .not yet,” she said, faltering at the hint of temper in his voice. “Soon. Very soon.”

  His face softened. “Yes. Soon. Today I will join you to myself, and you shall be mine.”

  Joselyn shook her head. Her breath ratcheted. “Impossible. I’m to be married in eight days to Lord Viridian. That cannot be undone.”

  “That life is passed for you.” A hint of remorse rang in his deep voice.

  “You don’t understand!” she cried. “I have to go back. You must take me!”

  Was this really happening? Was she truly pleading with a barbarian not to carry her off and make her his concubine, bride, whatever? How could she stop this?

  Calm yourself, Joselyn. Reason with him.

  “My father would find a dozen willing women to service you. I am for the Lord Viridian. Please, find another woman to be your bride.”

  The man frowned down at her. In her earnestness she’d taken several steps toward him. They were but a foot apart now, close enough to notice his fingers fidgeting at his sides.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I will not.”

  “I will not marry you,” she said. She drew upon every thread of courage to face him as she spoke.

  “You will,” he said with equal resolve. There was no malice in his voice, just a statement of fact. “I have conquered wyverns, I have conquered all manner of demons beneath the earth, and I shall conquer you.”

  Joselyn’s stomach lurched at his determined words. The savage meant them. Every one. What to do? She knew what she couldn’t do. She couldn’t give in to fear. Her freedom, her life depended upon her wits. She glared at him.

  The man reached for her bruised hand, the one she’d used to strike him. Joselyn snapped it away.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.

  Joselyn’s lips parted as she studied him. “No.”

  “Think it over. You’re not likely to notice until you’ve calmed.”

  Joselyn obeyed, despite herself, and shivered. She was cold. Freezing. The clouds had left her cloak drenched and her gown heavy with moisture. Her damp hair clung to the sides of her face.

  “Come,” he said, holding a hand out to her. “I have dry clothes for you.”

  Joselyn stepped back and scowled at the hand he offered. He lowered it before turning away toward the cave entrance.

  “Come,” he said again. He started down the tunnel.

  Would he just leave her here? Then why had he chased her in the first place?

  He wasn’t trying to catch you.

  A sinking suspicion settled low in her gut. Was she already trapped? Beyond hope of escape, of rescue? She could keep delving deeper, find out for sure. She considered it. Another round of chills had her clutching at her arms. She had no idea where she was, except on a mountain said to be home to unimaginable demon terrors. For now, she’d follow the one she’d already met. At a distance.

  The tunnel air was dank and musty. She had to squint to see clearly in some spots. All the while she searched for some alcove to slip into. There were none. When they made it back to the wider entrance of the cave, Joselyn was surprised to see the dragon lounging upon its belly, planted in the spot most exposed to sunshine. Somehow it looked almost serene.

  Hollen casually approached the beast. It ignored him as he climbed onto its back and began unlashing a pack from its saddle. So it was a saddle. The man hadn’t lied. He really had mastered the dragon. Joselyn fingered her pendant as she watched him work.

  Maybe he’s not a man at all. Though he does look like one. A very large, fierce man.

  He leapt to the ground and unwrapped a magnificent gray fur cloak from the pack. He shook it out as he approached her.

  “What sort of creature produced this garment?” she asked. She leaned away as though it held some foul magic.

  “Dire wolf.”

  Joselyn eyed it, barely able to keep her mouth from falling open. Dire wolves were ferocious creatures, and only the greatest of hunters could boast of killing one. But then, such a feat probably meant little to a man who could command a dragon.

  “Your cloak is wet. Take it off.”

  Joselyn wanted nothing from this man. When she didn’t move, he reached for her broach as though he meant to remove her clothes himself. She jerked away and hastily unclasped the drenched garment. He swung the dry pelt over her narrow shoulders. It swallowed her up, instantly warming her.

  “Come, I’ll make us a fire.” He hoisted a large pack which he’d removed from his mount and started back down the tunnel. Joselyn stayed where she was. Should she keep following?

  Hollen glanced back. “Unless you’d rather spend the evening with Jagomri.”

  At the mention of its name, the great serpent cracked a single yellow eye. Joselyn shivered when its gaze rested on her. Without a word, she skittered after her captor. Her eyes bored into his back. Was he truly mad? He didn’t seem so, but then, she barely knew him. They were silent as they moved, and Joselyn considered repleading her case.

  No. Not yet. “The man who understands his opponent best, wins.” Her father’s words played in her mind. She needed answers.

  They reached the place where he’d cornered her, and Hollen led her along the wall until they reached an inlet. A crude natural staircase had been cut by ancient ice and they followed it to the plateau above. Up and over they trekked until they were hiking downward again. As the minutes passed, the air grew warmer and the moss upon the walls thicker.

  She swallowed. “Where are your people?”

  Hollen glanced back at her, his expression neutral. “They live on the mountain, in a cave system called Bedmeg.”

  “Are any of them here?”

  “No. Just you and I tonight.”

  Tonight. Joselyn’s step faltered. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Amo Tanshi.”

  Surely he knew those words meant nothing to her. “For what purpose?”

  “Bonding.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He slowed and Joselyn had to stop to keep from walking into him. The tunnel was so narrow now, his broad shoulders brushed the sides. A soft glow appeared ahead as he turned to her. He scratched at the back of his head, his face drawn like he was searching for the right words. Joselyn’s wariness flared.

  “I’ll give you my tanshi mark of bonding. You’ll bear it upon your flesh just as I will. Then we’ll go to my people and live as one.”

  At his words, Joselyn’s spine stiffened. Hollen grimaced, then continued down the tunnel. Joselyn stood frozen.

  Bear it on your flesh? What in the swiving hells did that mean?

  Fresh light filled the tunnel as Hollen stepped through the passage and disappeared from view.

  What grim fate awaited her? Joselyn considered scrambling back up the tunnel, away from this savage man. She couldn’t go back to the dragon. If she tried to hide, the barbarian would find her. Even if she could outrun him, which he’d already proven she couldn’t, there was nowhere else to go. She’d kept an eye open for alternate routes on their way down here. There’d been none. Heart pounding, Joselyn crept toward the light. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

  A wide, grassy cavern lay stretched out. The air smelled sweet, and a waterfall burbled as it trickled into a nearby shallow pool. Though the cave was covered, holes let in enough light to feed a verdant, twisting tree near the center of the meadow. Joselyn marveled at the dreamlike scene, the fertile beauty hidden away so far above the earth.

  Hollen must have jumped down from the little ledge at the entrance because he stood there, waiting for her. When he held up a hand to assis
t her, she pulled back and clutched the tunnel wall. Without a word, he continued to the tree and dumped his heavy pack to the ground. He busied himself with unrolling it, seeming to pay her no attention at all.

  Joselyn stood, her feet rooted to the stony ground. What a coward she must look like. If the barbarian glanced at her now, he’d see her cowering like a terrified rabbit. What would that do for her? How would she reason with him then?

  She jerked away from the wall and clenched her fists. She’d been robbed of enough this day. She’d be keeping her pride.

  4

  Joselyn Helena Elise Fury

  Hollen’s pack hit the earth with a dull thud. He removed his axe from its holster and set it gently against the tree. Across the knoll, his bride remained fixed at the entrance. Unwilling to follow. He wanted to look at her, wanted to take advantage of every opportunity to know her more deeply. He thought of her red hair, the freckles scattered across her pale flesh, the pink glow of cold upon her nose, and the pleasing dimple in her chin. She was more beautiful than he could have hoped for, but she was afraid of him. And for that reason he set about building a fire, pointedly ignoring her until she decided to approach him. After all, there was nowhere else for her to go.

  The meadow held sacred meaning for his people. Since the birth of the mountain, it played host to the joining of all Dokiri unions. Helig herself, Goddess of the Earth, had planted the joining altar beneath the tree he now sat beside. It was a shining sheet of black granite, set a few feet above the ground. His heart raced at the thought of laying his bride upon it and making her his.

  Will she fight me?

  He hoped to Regna she would not. There was no going back now. He’d chosen Joselyn from the multitude of women in the lowlands to be his wife. It was a choice he’d only make once, and now she must bear the consequences. It was his duty to carve the bonding mark into her flesh and make her acceptable to his gods. If not, he’d call a curse upon his people too terrible to imagine. She was on his mountain now. She was his responsibility. His reward.

  Though Hollen had always known this would be the way of his bonding, he realized now that he’d spent very little time over the years considering what it would actually be like. He couldn’t be different from most Dokiri riders in that he’d spent the majority of his time thinking of the many nights after he’d won her heart.