A Prisoner's Desire

by Shelby Morgan

  Sandish blinked once, then again. "Aye. I'll not leave you a cripple, to wait for the Priestesses to have their fun with you before they kill you."

  He turned, squatting next to the anvil, pressing his neck hard against its cold iron breadth. Sandish pulled on the collar until it nearly cut off his air supply, but he didn't pull back.

  Promising not to flinch and actually keeping perfectly still while a huge hammer came crashing down at the back of his neck were different things altogether. It was all too easy to visualize the hammer as, tapping first as if to be sure of the location, sending small vibrations pinging through the iron that held his windpipe half shut. Once, twice, surely he would break the rivet on three. But no. More tapping.

  "I have to dimple the rivet first so the punch will not slip," Sandish explained.

  He didn't argue. He wouldn't risk breaking the man's concentration. Another tap. Conflicting emotions poured off the big man. He concentrated on trying to read those emotions, trying to translate the feelings into terms he could express. Sandish concentrated heavily on his work, but, while he was not precisely afraid, he was concerned that if his hammer stroke was off, his motives would be questioned. He'd been angry and jealous that Braunnan had taken another man to her bed. Now he feared those emotions might get in his way.

  "Just do your job. I trust you."

  Surprise. A hint of grudging respect. The first real blow of the hammer vibrated the collar with a jolt that sent power coursing through the iron. A second blow and the rivet let go, the collar falling away. And with it, the memories came flooding back.

  Chapter Five

  A cabin, not unlike the one Braunnan occupied. Men he worked with every shift who respected him and called him friend. A lake he swam in at the end of his shift in the mines. A pickaxe he swung during the work-shift. Then the dreams had started…dreams of sunlight and freedom. He rubbed the raw skin where the collar had sat all his adult life. Freedom. This was the first step. He turned to face the woman who'd made it possible, and the man who'd swung the hammer.

  "Thank you." He extended his had toward the muscled giant. "I am called Cullaelon. I list myself in your debt. I hope somehow I may be able to repay you."

  Sandish slowly extended his huge hand to wrap around Cullaelon's smaller one. "Just keep Mistress Braunnan happy. That is all that I ask."

  "I shall do my best," Cullaelon promised. Truly, it was a promise he meant to keep. He turned to Braunnan and took her hand in his. He could feel the doubt radiate off of her. He remembered what she'd said. That as soon as he regained his memories he'd return to his former life. "M'Lady, we have production to make up."

  "Aye," she agreed. "Thank you, Sandish."

  Cullaelon.

  He had a name. He had a past. He had a life, people he would return to, a job he was expected to do in another quadrant.

  Braunnan moved toward the tunnel, placing her feet one in front of the other, moving forward, forcing herself to go through the motions. She had healed the man, given him his sanity back, along with his name and his past. It was all she'd set out to do.

  Now she had to let him go.

  This was as it should be. As it had always been. A woman chose a man but for the duration of a mating cycle. After that he returned to his home. She was a fool to want more. To believe the dreams, to think there had once been more.

  This was all there was. All there would ever be.

  The sadness threatened to overwhelm her.

  She gasped in surprise as her feet left the ground, too stunned to cry out. Soft lips covered hers as strong hands pushed her into a dimly lit side tunnel and up against the stone wall. A hard, lean body pressed against hers, pinning her flat and helpless as he kissed her. "Braunnan," he hissed against her cheek, "Do you think me a fool as well as a madman?"

  She didn't think. Not at all. Couldn't, not with his hands, hot and angry, doing outrageous things to her only a few feet from where the changing shifts filed past. Her own hands were free, now, and she used them to answer him the best way she could, pulling his hips tightly against her while she wrapped her leg around his waist. His body was all that shielded her from the passing crews.

  She didn't care. He knew who he was, and he still wanted her, even if he was angry with her for doubting him. She pulled up his tunic—her tunic—to push her hands between them, pulling his cock towards where she wanted it. There. Hot, hard, already dripping with the first releases of cum at her touch. She rolled the foreskin back, exposing as much of the sensitive head as she could, letting him feel her clit jump in response as she rubbed his cock over her. He drew in his breath with a sharp hiss as she slid his cock back and forth over her clit, shuddering against him, almost ready to come at just the touch of his sizzling heat against her sensitized skin.

  "Do you think to mark your territory, she-bear?" he whispered as he drove into her. "This territory is mine, and I will not let you go. Let them see us. Every man here will understand who I am and that you are my mate. Mine."

  He thrust into her in rhythm to his words, hard and fast and already taking her towards a desperate, clawing climax. "My mate," she hissed in return, raking her nails across that magnificent backside. "Mine!"

  "I am Cullaelon." He pistoned into her with the fierce, driving need of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. "I want to hear my name on your lips as you come for me."

  "Cullaelon," she whispered. That wasn't enough. "Cullaelon!" she screamed as her horizon lit with a field of bright stars. "Mine," she commanded as he broke within her, shuddering helplessly.

  "Yours." He dropped his forehead against hers. "Yours and yours alone."

  "Yours and yours alone," she agreed.

  * * * * *

  Alone. She was so alone. Even the guards feared to speak to her now. There was only one who shared her world, what little of it she could share. Tâkuri wrapped herself in the little warmth she could draw from the tattered skins, calming herself, letting herself drift off to find him.

  Always she had had the gift of the dreaming. There were some she could brush, some she could share with, a very few she could gift with the memories she held, and one, only one, she could touch. She had found him years ago. Almost two decades, now. He'd been but a boy, a child fighting for his existence on the streets, but still one of her people, one of those whose charge she was given. She'd sought only to guide him at first, to comfort the lost soul within, but he was strong. Stronger than the rest. He saw her for the voice behind the dreams, and he actually spoke to her within the dreaming.

  She could not find him tonight. Perhaps it was not night where he was. It was so hard to tell in this place of shadows. Their captors manipulated the artificial lighting to their own benefit. For each shift morning, or first light, came at a different time. Three shifts worked the mines in constant rotation, cycling so that the giant steam hammers were never stilled. She had long ago lost track of the measure of the days above ground.

  No matter. She needed to touch. Someone. Anyone. Whoever she could reach. She could not let them grow complacent. They had to know. They had to remember. They needed to believe…

  * * * * *

  Braunnan could see her reflection in the water, framed by the mountains, the sun making a fuzzy halo around her head. The warmth on her back made her smile. She stood slowly, holding out her hand to him, and his fingers closed over hers, pulling her into his arms. His skin was hot with the glow of the sun. The sun had darkened him, melted him to a golden bronze. Her skin glowed a dark tan, the color of the woven linen tunic she wore.

  He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that promised more. Together they turned and headed home.

  Home.

  She knew this place, though she saw it now with new wonder, as if for the first time. There at the base of the mountains sat the Fifth House of Clan Bear. 'Twas not really a house. 'Twas many houses, gathered together to form a village, with one more predominant, in that its walls joined the porticuses that protected the others, providing
the shield for the village within. The ornate battlements rose high and imposing, defense against all who would dare to challenge them, yet the gates were open. The children played in the grass. The herds moved freely about in the pastures beyond the gates.

  A sudden sense of impending doom shook her. She squeezed his hand, knowing suddenly that he felt it too. They ran toward the gates, shouting their warning as they came, but no one was listening. The day was too glorious, the sun too warm, the city too invincible.

  The cubs were their quarry, caught up by the dark furies that swept down on them, the parents who ran to their aid slaughtered as they came. "Mommy! Mommy!" The screams reached her ears like distant sounds muffled by the waves, and then they were fighting, she and her mate, back to back, swords in their hands, fighting their way back to the gates, gathering survivors as they went, even though it was already too late, too late, too late…they could not save the cubs…

  * * * * *

  Warm hands chafed her, trying to chase the chill from her frigid body. She clutched convulsively at the body beside her, burying herself in his warmth. Cold. So cold. So cold. Like her clansmen cut down in the sun.

  "They slaughtered our people," she sobbed. "And they took the cubs. So helpless. Why did they take our cubs?"

  "Shhh." He held her now, clasped tightly against his chest, rocking her slightly in his arms. "I'd tell you it was just a dream, but we know better, don't we? But it was long ago. It was all over long before we were born. Our cubs will not face such a fate."

  "Didn't feel like a dream." Her breathing slowly quieted from the hard gasps of running and fighting. "I was there. I feel as if I was there. I fought them. We fought them. So many dead. So many bodies. They took our cubs."

  "I know, my love. I have seen the slaughter. But I was not really there, and neither were you. I believe the dreams are racial memories. These things actually happened, but not to us. You were born here, as I was, as all of us that remain were. The cubs we saw were not ours. The cubs taken that shift grew up here in this world. Those cubs were our mothers and fathers. None of us have ever seen sunlight. But we remember, through them. We keep the dreams alive for them."

  "Sometimes I think about my mother. All I really remember is that she told me never to forget who I was. Braunnan. Mistress of the Fifth House...."

  "I don't remember my mother at all. We were separated from our parents when we were very young. The old ones died long ago. They were not suited to life underground. We were born here. We are different. Yet we are still Clan Bear, and you are Mistress of the Fifth House."

  Braunnan gathered her scattered thoughts, pulling herself together as she focused on his words. He was trying to tell her something. He was asking her something. Not directly. He was never direct. But if he was saying what she thought he was saying…"There is no Clan Bear. No Houses. No Houses, no Mistresses. I am Third Shift Supervisor."

  Cullaelon held her tightly against his chest. "You know that's not true. In your heart you know. Clan Bear meant something, once. We were a proud people with a rich heritage. You understand, don't you? You've seen the slaughter."

  "I…yes. The dreams become more real every time. The details become sharper. The truth harder to ignore. But I…when I try to tell people they laugh at me, or they call me—"

  "Crazy. Yes. I know."

  "They call me a heretic," she confessed. "They say I would destroy all that we have, all that we have built, and lead them back into chaos and poverty. They think as the Élandra have taught us, that we have always lived so, since the cataclysm, born to be subjugated, born to be part of this world. They think the world underground is our home, and that if anyone at all still survives above ground, they are enemies who would revile us and destroy us."

  "But you remember," he prodded. "You know what we were."

  "Yes," she agreed slowly, still not sure where he was leading her.

  "You know what we were. You have seen the sunlight."

  "I have seen it as if I had lived there."

  His hands gripped her shoulders now, almost painfully, as he stared hard into her eyes. "It's all real, Braunnan. Our people were not meant to live underground. We were not meant to be slaves. The sunlight is real."

  Was he asking her to believe in the message of the dreams? Or was he telling her…"You have seen it? You have seen the sunlight? With your own eyes?"

  He nodded his head just once. "I had to know. I went to see for myself. Through the mines. The drainage tunnels. I have seen the sunlight."

  "And you came back," she whispered, understanding at last. "But when you tried to tell people, they called you crazy."

  He laughed at that, the sound an admission of his own foolishness. "No. When I tried to kill the guards they called me crazy. And I confirmed that notion when I started talking about the Daemoness."

  Braunnan chuckled against his chest. "I suppose that might make some think you crazy."

  "Braunnan?"

  Her lips were much too close to his nipple. She already knew how he would taste. The sight made her hungry all over again. "Mmm?"

  "I might really be crazy."

  "You might."

  "The time I've spent here with you…Braunnan, I…"

  She gave in to her desires and ran her tongue around the base of his nipple, smiling when he gasped, pushing against her lips. "Mmm. The time we've spent together has been perfect." Unless he was trying to tell her…"You don't regret what we've done? Is there someone else waiting for you? Were you already mated?"

  Powerful arms tightened around her convulsively. "No! No one…you gave me…you touched me in places I thought no one would ever care enough to touch, Braunnan. You healed me in ways I cannot name. It has been so long since I could trust anyone…"

  He still sounded worried. "You can trust me," she assured him.

  "Would you…would you tell me if you thought I was crazy?"

  Would she? Could she? "I don't know that I can judge your sanity. What a man does is not what he is. You can do things that seem crazy to me without being crazy."

  He snorted softly against her hair. "I didn't go charging off into the dungeons armed with a pickaxe to kill a madman."

  "I would not have killed you!" Braunnan protested. "Never. I could not harm one of my own."

  "Couldn't you?"

  He had an odd way of redirecting a conversation without seeming to. "I don't know what I would have done, what I meant to do. I wanted only quiet. I don't know why I grabbed the pick. But a miner never goes about empty handed."

  "So you reacted instinctively to a perceived threat."

  Had she said that? "Yes. I guess so."

  "And if you had seen glowing green eyes and razor sharp fangs when you entered that cell?"

  Glowing green eyes?

  Are you…Are you the Daemoness?

  A smile quirked her lips. "I might have found it hard to trust you."

  "I don't know anymore. I don't know what is real. I want to believe you are real. I want to trust you. I need to trust you. I can't go on alone own anymore, just praying for what I fear most."

  "And what is it you fear?"

  "Death. But more than that, I fear wasting my life. Wasting the gifts the gods have given me. I have been given a gift so precious, so important to our people, and yet I know not how to use it. I know not how to let others see. I ask them to believe in what they cannot see, and they call me a madman."

  She thought she understood, but she had to make certain, had to be absolutely sure. "What exactly do you believe to be your gift? Your ability to read others' emotions?"

  "No! That is a curse. I mean the dreams. The memories. Mountains. Sunlight. Things that are so real to me now that this, all this below, this no longer seems real at all. I believe in the dreams. I believe in freedom."

  Braunnan cradled his head in her arms, her hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him tightly against her, kissing his damp eyelashes as if she could heal the hurt in his soul. "I do not think you are c
razy. A man who has seen what you have seen, who has tasted freedom, only to have all he knows stripped from him for believing in his visions, might well begin to doubt himself. That does not make you crazy. A man in the depths of privation might even begin to hallucinate, to see the daemons of his soul as they attempt to escape. But if that makes you crazy, then every Warrior who has ever gone into battle is crazy. And make no mistake, we are Warriors, and there is a battle ahead of us we may not win. Will you stand at my side, Warrior? Will you cover my back?"

  Dark green eyes searched hers, as if reading her soul. "What are you asking of me, M'Lady?"

  And to gain trust, one had to offer trust. Braunnan let down her guard, let him feel the hunger, the need, the determination that flooded her. "We are kindred souls, the Knights of The Dreaming. I am asking you to be my mate. Not just for one season. The way our elders did in the legends. For ever and always."

  He held her at arms' length, searching her face, conflicting emotions lending a troubled, haunted look to his features. "It is forbidden, M'Lady. A man may not take a mate. Not in the old way."

  Braunnan placed her hand flat over his breastbone, needing to touch, wanting to connect, asking him to believe. "The Knights of The Dreaming will change the rules, Cullaelon. We will change the rules. We will fight with words, we will share the dream, we will risk all that we are to show the others that there is a better way. Not because we want to, or because it is the right thing to do, but because we have to. Because we have seen. Because all that we were must not be lost. Because we are Clan Bear."

  His heart slammed against her hand, beating so hard that she could feel it struggle to make the next shuddering pump. "You know what you are saying? They will kill you if we are caught."

  "They will kill us anyway. They are doing it now. One dream at a time. We must make the others believe, Cullaelon. We must lead our people to the surface. Help me free our people."

  He placed two fingers over her lips, as if to stop her heresy. "You are the Daemoness, come to rip the world to shreds."