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

by Denali Day

  Bit by bit, Joselyn tugged the bow down, not daring to breathe. Her hand crept up to her neck, stretching backward to finger the fletching of an arrow. Hollen called to her in the background with a question in his voice. She didn’t answer. The creature was moving again.

  It turned, presenting her with a stunted profile. Its bent spine sported a column of sharp spikes that seemed integrated into its skeletal structure. It stood at least as tall as she, the apex of its hunched shoulders the highest point on its jagged body. Joselyn willed her hands to be steady as she notched the arrow against her bow string, her gaze never leaving the mysterious beast.

  A guttural snarl carried through the trees. The creature flashed razor-sharp teeth that seemed altogether too large for its mouth. Joselyn brought the bow up to bear and the creature quieted. Its body went stone still. Icy adrenaline shot through Joselyn’s body. The monster wasn’t attacking. Would that change if she fired at it? What if she missed? Where should she even aim?

  Suddenly, the creature leapt forward in a full charge, its blade-like claws pounding into the frozen ground beneath it. Joselyn’s heart seized in her chest.

  She let the arrow fly.

  14

  Veligiri

  Hollen called out to his bride. What had drawn her attention into the tree line? His gaze flitted to the trees, peering into the shaded darkness. Regna, father of the sky, had endowed the Dokiri with a keen sense of eyesight, a necessary trait for those who hunted from the backs of the gegatu. When down on the ground, Hollen couldn’t help but wish it were his ears that had received the supernatural blessing. What good were the eyes of a hawk when the walls of a cave or a forest of trees blocked his sight?

  A stiff wind kicked up the branches of the pines. Miles of green swayed in a wave that spanned across the mountain’s face. The breeze sent a whiff of the storen’s dripping carcass spinning into Hollen’s face.

  A sense of malevolence slithered its way up his spine, and his hand went instinctively to his axe. He scooted off Jagomri, and the gegatu growled in impatience. Hollen ignored his beast, standing to study his bride. Her back was still to him. He called out to her again, but she didn’t turn. Instead, her hand crept upward as she rolled her shoulder, edging off her bow.

  Panic lit his insides. She could have spotted some additional game in the woods. But, no. That wasn’t right. Her posture was too stiff. Too tall. His hamma was afraid, and he was too far away.

  He burst into a full sprint. In seconds he was halfway there. In that time, she’d drawn an arrow and taken aim into the tree line. Hollen heard the telltale snarl of one of his most common enemies.

  “Joselyn! Run!” he cried, nearly upon her.

  His hamma let an arrow fly into the trees, and he followed its path. A great, white mass bounded from the shadows. The arrow plunged into its muscle-strapped chest. The blood-seeker released another eerie howl. Hollen charged forward. He wasn’t going to make it in time.

  The blood-seeker, fangs glinting in the sunlight, leapt upon his bride. She hit the stony ground hard. Cold fury tore through Hollen’s chest and rose out of his throat in a savage roar. The blood-seeker glanced up. Hollen swung his axe, missing the creature’s snubbed face and slicing into its shoulder instead. The crunching of bone vibrated up Hollen’s arm.

  The blood-seeker screamed as it darted off Joselyn’s chest. The monster locked its black gaze on Hollen. Its pointed ears pressed backward as it bellowed, murky gray blood spilling out onto the ground. It squinted in the bright sun and arched its spined back toward the sky. Its claws gave it extra height. Even crawling on its hands and feet, the seeker was taller than Hollen.

  Hollen gripped his axe, prepared. Behind him, Jagomri hissed and backed farther away from the foul monster that even gegatu took care to avoid.

  Hollen stepped over his bride, who was still lying on the ground. He wanted to look at her, to assure himself that she was well. It would have to wait. He stepped around the creature, blocking its access to the trees. If the blood-seeker could draw the fight into the shadows, it would. Its whiteless eyes were half-blind in the sun.

  Hollen leaned in and thrust his axe forward, daring the creature to charge. When it shrunk back, Hollen leapt forward. As expected, the vermin pulled in its head and lashed out with its front claws. Hollen tore his axe across the row of extended talons. Ashen gray blood ripped from the seeker’s hands. It screamed, rearing back on its feet.

  Pain bloomed in Hollen’s right arm. He ignored it, tipping his head back to watch the monster’s face. It slammed its spiked elbows down, pounding rock again and again in furious agony.

  Hollen darted across the puddle of gore, nearly slipping. He bellowed to cow his opponent. The beast withdrew, and once again threw out its arms in defense. With its claws removed, Hollen got even closer. He swung his axe back and heaved it over his head.

  Steel split into the seeker’s spike-rimmed head. This time, there was no scream. The monster’s body fanned out in a spasm before crumpling to the ground.

  Hollen jerked his weapon out from the fractured shards of the monster’s skull. There was a pop, and fresh blood exploded from the crushed mound like bubbling spring water. He whirled, and his eyes fell upon Joselyn.

  She sat up on the ground, supported by her trembling arms. Hollen scanned the area in a rapid sweep. He could spot no further threat, but then, the forest was too close to be certain. He sprinted forward, all but landing upon his pale-faced bride. Still clutching his axe in one hand, Hollen planted the other against Joselyn’s narrow shoulder.

  “Are you all right?”

  Joselyn’s wide eyes blinked once. Her gaze was locked on the fallen blood-seeker. Was she even breathing?

  “Joselyn!” He gave her a shake. “Are you hurt?”

  His bride flinched, gasping. She blinked up at him. Her breath suddenly came in half-finished gulps. She nodded once, and then she kept nodding. Her head pitched forward and back like a newborn babe’s. She was in shock. Hollen scanned her body, taking his own account.

  Sure enough, the furs of her thigh were torn open. His hands shot to her leg to stretch the leather open. Faint trails of blood welled into the soft fibers of wolf hair lining her trousers. Hollen sent a prayer of thanksgiving to Helig that the talons of blood-seekers were not venomous. Still, the disgusting creatures were known for hoarding heaps of decaying carcasses within their reeking caves. The wound needed to be cleaned. Quickly.

  Joselyn leaned into Hollen’s chest. Her little hands clung to his coat, and her chest expanded into his as she continued struggling for air. His instincts flared. He dropped his axe and scooped Joselyn up in his arms.

  “Come, mu hamma!”

  It felt so good to hold her. If only the circumstances had been different. He clambered to his feet and snapped the axe back up. Hollen ran forward. Jagomri stood a good distance away, his great obsidian wings open. He hissed in distaste at the fallen blood-seeker. Hollen sneered in his mount’s direction.

  No damn help at all.

  Joselyn trembled, and her blue eyes darted backward to the corpse of the monstrous creature.

  “Don’t look at it, mu hamma.” No Dokiri hamma should have to look upon a veligiri. Especially not Hollen’s hamma. She buried her face in his throat, so close he could feel her breath.

  Hollen bounded up Jagomri’s side, all but dropping Joselyn into the saddle. He secured his axe to the saddle and thrust his legs into the leather trappings as quickly as he could. His mind reeled. What in all Helig’s green earth had a blood-seeker been doing in broad daylight? He should inspect the body, investigate what would cause it to act against its nature. But, no. His only concern was protecting his bride. He couldn’t do that out here.

  Hollen considered his bride's jibe in the forest, that a ‘savage’ like him couldn’t understand the significance of duty. She was ignorant. He didn’t fault her for it. She’d only been with him for a handful of days. In truth, there was nothing more sacred to the Dokiri. Duty to his cla
n, the gods, his brothers, and above all else, duty to his bride. It was the greatest of all charges.

  And he had failed.

  15

  Duty First

  I should be dead. I should be dead.

  Had it not been for Hollen, she would be dead. She groaned against the saddle as they landed outside Bedmeg. Her every muscle weighed heavy and cold. She was vaguely aware of her captor tearing at the buckles of his saddle. His movements were jerky and frantic. Was he afraid? What could a man like him possibly fear?

  His legs free, Hollen leapt from Jagomri’s back. Joselyn tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Hollen caught her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. It was probably for the best.

  The Dokiri chieftain shouted in his language, barking out orders to the men standing nearby who watched with wary interest. Whatever Hollen said sprung them into action. They began whistling, calling their own wyverns from the jagged cliffs above. Joselyn jumped at the sound of a blowing horn which sent even more riders pouring from outside the cave and into the open valley. Women scurried out as well, throwing their curious gazes at their Salig and Saliga.

  Hollen sprinted past, darting beneath the cave’s ceiling. Was the entire clan watching? Joselyn squirmed in his arms. “Put me down.”

  He ignored her. Erik ran to meet them as they approached the path leading to Hollen’s bok. Hollen bit out what Joselyn assumed was another command in Dokiri. Erik's blue eyes widened. He nodded and ran outside with several other men.

  Hollen wasn’t going to put her down. Joselyn pressed her face into his shoulder, avoiding the eyes of those around them until they were out of sight.

  It was totally dark inside the bok. She shivered. Hollen deposited her onto the furs of his bed, and the room spun around her. Light flooded the bok. Joselyn's gaze floated over to where Hollen sat, hunched over the ring, feeding twigs into the kindling flame.

  She glanced down at herself, only just taking stock of her condition for the first time. She appeared fine, save for her right leg. The leather of her pants had been torn open. Joselyn grimaced. It hurt.

  Her eyes shot up as Hollen crossed the room in wide strides. He dropped to his knees on the ground before her. His hands darted to the top of her pants. All at once, he began tugging them downward. Joselyn gasped, barely managing to catch his wrists. She squeezed them, and his dark gaze snapped to hers.

  “No!” She dug her nails into his hands.

  He paused, though the restraint appeared to require more than a little effort. “You’re bleeding.”

  “No, I’m not.” Was she bleeding? She didn’t know. All she knew for certain was that she couldn’t allow him to strip her. Her grip tightened and she gritted her teeth. “I’m fine.”

  A solid beat passed, and Hollen released her pants. His hands dropped to rest upon her upper thighs. The weight of them sent a glow of heat up her legs where it promptly ignited like a furnace within the cradle of her hips. She shuddered at the shocking sensation. Her lips parted on a gasp.

  Skies! What is happening to me?

  “Let me tend to you,” he said, his voice a command, his expression pleading.

  The pain in her leg flared, making her wince. Hollen noticed and leaned forward.

  “Please, mu hamma,” he whispered. He reached one hand up her arm, stroking her like a startled horse. “Let me see.”

  He was afraid. This hardened warrior, capable of taming wyverns and slaying demons, was afraid for her. Her lips parted in stunned realization.

  Hollen’s hands went back to her pants. Joselyn sucked in a breath as she snapped out of her thoughts. She kept her voice steady, but gentled it.

  “No. Get me some water. I’ll clean it myself.”

  Hollen stared. Indecision warred in his gaze. She met his eyes with steely daggers of her own, daring him to overstep. His intentions might be innocent, but she wouldn’t budge on this. No man looked at her there, touched her there.

  Hollen huffed, but backed away. She thought she heard a frustrated growl rumble in his throat. He flew to the other end of the bok and threw up the lid of the chest. His big hands rummaged through the contents.

  He’d actually honored her request. He might easily reason to himself that cleaning her wound was paramount to her safety. What an easy justification. Yet, he’d honored her wishes. The barbarian was full of surprises.

  Hollen returned and pressed a rag into her outstretched hand. He set a wooden bowl filled with water next to her, and also the pitcher he’d filled it with. Joselyn dipped the rag into the water. She glanced up at Hollen. Did he intend to watch her every move? She cleared her throat.

  “I would appreciate some privacy.”

  He frowned, his brows knitting together. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. A moment passed, and his lips snapped shut. Hollen turned and exited the bok.

  Silence filled the room, making Joselyn shiver. He’d actually listened. And she was . . .disappointed. How ridiculous. As she wiped at the blood, some of her anxiety returned. For the first time since being brought to Bedmeg, Joselyn’s source of fear shifted away from inside this bok, this bed. She took a deep breath. Nothing could get to her here. There was only one way in and out. Still, her eyes drifted to the exit, waiting for an intruding demon to appear.

  I am safe. Hollen is outside. Nothing will get past him.

  Sighing, she wobbled to her feet. It was as though all the strength had been sapped from her body, like a day spent in full summer sun. Her knees shook under her weight as she peeled off her pants. Maybe she did need help. She was loath to ask Hollen after so stubbornly making him leave, but her pride and modesty weren’t worth a fever. She bent for a better view.

  Joselyn looked up to see Lavinia entering the bok. The older woman’s full lips parted with dismay.

  “Mu Saliga! Are you all right? What h-happened?” She hurried to Joselyn’s side and pulled her down on the furs.

  “Where’s Hollen?” Joselyn glanced toward the bok’s entrance. Was he not just outside after all?

  “He’s . . .outside. He said you wanted p-privacy.” Lavinia’s eyes dropped to Joselyn’s lap. “He asked me to check your wound.” Lavinia’s hands went to Joselyn's thigh. She paused. “May I?”

  Joselyn nodded, attempting a smile but falling short, her nerves too frayed. Lavinia squinted in the torchlight and ran a finger over the edges of the tear in her flesh. Joselyn stifled a shudder.

  “It is n-not deep. I don’t think you’ll need thread t-taken to it.”

  Joselyn nodded. “Thank you, Lavinia.”

  The dark woman glanced up at her. “You m-must be terrified.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied as she straightened. “Does this sort of thing happen often?”

  Lavinia’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. “Oh n-no, n-never!”

  Relief eased some of the tightness in Joselyn’s chest as her companion jabbered on.

  “Mu Salig said you were attacked by a . . .blood-seeker. But that should never have h-happened in the middle of the day! Blood-seekers are . . .blind in the sun. Atu hatu has already ordered warriors to investigate. He’ll join . . .them just as soon as he’s assured of your s-safety.”

  Joselyn gaped at the woman. A blood-seeker? No wonder he’d cut down the creature so quickly. It had not been his first time. Not even close. She thought of the marks across Hollen’s biceps.

  “He’s going back out there? Now? Why? He was nearly killed.” Surely he needed time to rest and collect himself. Joselyn was still shaking. Wasn’t he suffering some ill effects as well?

  Lavinia regarded her. “It’s his duty, mu . . .Saliga. All malevolent c-creatures must be exterminated, and a blood-seeker skulking about in b-broad daylight n-necessitates immediate attention.” Lavinia sighed and grabbed the rag. She wiped at the wound. “They’ll be gone for a while. The f-forest blocks our warriors’ view of the ground below. They’ll have to patrol the woods . . .on foot.”

  Joselyn thought o
f Hollen and his warriors trudging through the forest without the benefit of their mounts. She imagined Hollen being overtaken by a pack of the foul creatures, their wicked claws decapitating him. Shouldn’t the idea give her hope? Without her captor, what reason did anyone have to make her stay? Surely she would be returned to her father, her promised reward collected in earnest.

  Instead of hope, a surge of panic pounded through her chest. Did she truly wish to return home under any circumstances? Under those circumstances? If Hollen were to fall into her father’s hands, he’d be summarily executed. Of that, Joselyn had no doubt. It was a fate she’d threatened him with the day he kidnapped her. At the time she’d have felt no pity for him. But now? Did she really feel the same way?

  No. He doesn’t deserve to die for desiring me.

  One bold feat, and she was softening like a besotted little girl. Joselyn lowered her eyes to the ground, ashamed of herself.

  After bandaging Joselyn’s leg, Lavinia rose from the bed and crossed the bok toward the wooden chest. She returned with a white under-shift and helped Joselyn change.

  “Thank you, Lavinia.” Despite her frayed nerves, she forced herself to smile at her new friend.

  Until now, she’d thought of Lavinia as well-meaning, but beneath her, as though she lacked for either grit or common sense. Like the rest of the Dokiri hammas, Lavinia emanated reverent awe for her captor-husband. At first, it had seemed to Joselyn like the women here had all been brainwashed. But now? After facing down her own death at the clawed hands of an unholy monster? She’d underestimated the degree of evil that resided on this mountain. And perhaps she’d misjudged the wives of the men who kept it at bay.