Given to the Savage

by Natasha Knight

“I’d be happy to. Would it be all right if I took some of the plants to replant at Silas’ home? You can cook with many of them as well.”

  “Yes, help yourself. In fact, shall I get you something to collect them in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She spent the next few hours plucking leaves from plants to dry for the clinic as well as making a list of concoctions she would teach them how to make. Then she chose her own plants, making sure to take enough of the selenium along with the simpler herbs. By the time her bucket was full, it was late afternoon and the sun was high and hot. She went into the clinic to find either Kara or the doctor. Kara had taken Charlie home and the doctor was in with a patient. She turned to the only nurse there.

  “Do you know when Silas will be back for me?” she asked, feeling strange but knowing she was to stay here and wait for him.

  The nurse glanced at her but Rowan could see it took some effort to hold her gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “Can I talk to Dr. Stone?”

  “No. He’s in with a patient and he’s expecting me. Excuse me.” By the time she said that, she had all but left the room already and Rowan looked down at her bucket of plants. They would die if she didn’t get them planted soon. She made one more attempt but the other nurse simply rushed by her. She glared at the back of the woman’s head. What was she supposed to do, stand here all day waiting? She was hungry and hot and all her effort would be wasted if she didn’t plant the herbs soon. She looked down at the selenium plant that was at the top and decided she would have to deal with Silas’ anger when the time came. This was too important.

  She walked quickly through the village, grateful to have remembered the path, and not ten minutes later, she was standing outside in the little garden behind Silas’ house. She found some garden tools and, after choosing a spot for her herb garden, began to dig up the earth. Taking her time, she planted everything, taking special care with the selenium. After that, she chose another corner farther off, dug a hole and dropped some of the pomegranate seeds into it, hoping for a tree, realizing she might not be here to see it if it did take root and grow but wanting to do it just the same. It was a lonely thought but it was the reality of things at the moment.

  But today was a good day, so far at least. She had been able to help Charlie and in doing so, had gained the trust of the doctor and Kara. And perhaps Silas. She had also found the selenium. That could make all the difference. But if what Kara said was true about the tattoos, she wondered if the ink could overwrite whatever code was embedded into the implant at her wrist and make it possible for her to disappear. But Silas would never allow it. He would be punished, perhaps the entire settlement would be, if she were to run away.

  She put the garden tools back where she had found them, watered the plants, and went inside to have a bath. Once she was scrubbed clean, she looked through the two cabinets in the kitchen but found them empty. She would have made dinner but Silas had nothing to cook. She glanced back at the closet she had looked at yesterday and her curiosity got the better of her. Before she knew it, she was back inside it peeking through the furnishings, looking for clues into Silas’ past.

  * * *

  Silas arrived at the clinic just as dark was falling. He hadn’t meant to be gone so long but quite a few of the villagers had come to the hall that day to talk about ‘the breeder,’ about why she was in their village. They were afraid, understandably. What had happened six years ago hadn’t been forgotten and seeing him bring Rowan into the village had only awakened old fears, reminding them of what had happened the last time a breeder had been in their midst.

  He had told them, however, that she was here to be bred on the colony’s orders. That this time was different than the last. This coupling would ensure that their supplies would not be cut off, that electricity and running water would be provided. Those few days when they had essentially gone dark, as he called it, had been a harsh awakening for the people of the village. It made very real the power the colony held over them and their livelihood.

  He sighed. It had been a long day. Now he looked forward to a shower and some food. And, although he felt ashamed to say it, he also looked forward to having Rowan in his bed.

  He pulled open the front door and walked into the clinic to find one of the nurses sitting at the desk.

  “Hello, Silas,” she said.

  “Hello, Ellen. I’m here to pick up Rowan.”

  “Rowan?” she asked.

  “The breeder,” he said, not liking the sound of himself saying it.

  Dr. Stone came around the corner to walk a patient out. He looked at Silas and Silas knew in that instant that she wasn’t there.

  “Where is Rowan?” he asked after the patient had left.

  “I thought you had picked her up.”

  The nurse watched them. “She went home a while ago.”

  “Alone?” Silas and the doctor both asked.

  “She asked for you but…” she stammered.

  “Oh, hell,” Silas muttered and stormed out the door. He got home a few minutes later and when he walked in to find Rowan coming out of the room he had expressly told her to leave alone, after the relief of seeing her safe, his face grew hot with anger.

  Rowan’s mouth fell open. She looked shocked to see him. “I…” she began, but in the next instant, Silas had covered the space between them and when she put up her hands to ward him off, he took her arms and shook her once.

  “What in hell were you thinking leaving the clinic on your own? Wandering around the village?”

  “I wasn’t wandering! I had to come home and everyone was gone…”

  “You were told to wait for a reason! Do you realize I’ve spent the entire day defending your presence here, trying to explain it in a way that makes sense to my people?”

  “This isn’t my fault! You think I want to be here? You think it’s up to me?”

  “It’s not exactly up to me either but as long as it pleases the fucking commander, here is where you are, and while you’re under my protection, you will do exactly as I say, exactly as you’re told—word for fucking word! You’re on loan, remember, and while you’re here, my first priority is keeping the colony’s precious property safe!”

  “I’m not property. I have feelings too, just like your women here,” she spat back. “We’re breeders, we’re not animals! I realize I’m only here because Commander Norrin has something he’s holding over your head but that’s not my fault either. Don’t take it out on me!”

  Silas was shocked by her outburst and by the time she had finished, she looked just as surprised as he felt. He stepped closer to her so that his chest now touched hers, and she had to crook her neck to look up at him. She attempted to take one step back but found herself trapped between him and the wall.

  “You’re hurting me, let go of me!” she yelled, trying to free herself.

  Silas looked to where his hands gripped her arms too hard. He had to remember how much bigger than her he was, how much stronger. He exhaled and released her, but didn’t step back.

  “Watch your tone, Hellcat…” Why had he called her the colony’s property? He didn’t feel that way about her. He had just spent the entire day explaining her presence, fighting for her. He opened his mouth to apologize but she shoved hard at his chest.

  “Leave me alone and stop calling me that. My name is Rowan!”

  “Your name is what I want it to be and you’ll do as you’re told.”

  Rowan raised her arm to slap him, but he caught her wrist and held it tight. “I am your master for as long as you’re here. Remember that.”

  “You don’t have to be so mean to me,” she said.

  Silas looked at her face, her eyes, and exhaled, then took a step back. “I was worried when I didn’t find you at the clinic,” he said more quietly.

  She studied him and exhaled herself. “I’m sorry I worried you. I came straight back.”

  He nodded, then looked at the open door behind her. “Was I unclear
last night about not going into that particular room?” he asked, pointing to the door she’d just come out from.

  She looked frightened for a moment but then folded her arms across her chest and her stance showed only defiance. “I don’t know why it matters, it’s just some dusty old furniture in there.”

  If she had been sorry, he would have punished her anyway if only to teach her to obey him. But now, with this attitude, she would endure more than a hand spanking. Taking her by the arm, he dragged her toward the front door where a strap hung from a nail on the wall.

  “You want me to strap you so you listen?” he began, taking the strap in his hand. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll strap you.”

  “No! Let me go!” she screamed, fighting and scratching at him, trying to get free.

  “Bend over the bed and raise your skirt!” he commanded, pushing her to it. But as soon as she was free, she scrambled to her feet and ran toward the back door. Silas made a sound and went after her, catching her easily, and in no time at all, he had her bent over the low bed, the thin cover of her dress the last thing standing between her vulnerable bottom and the leather.

  “Let me up!” she yelled, fighting against him, as pointless as she must have known it was. “Let me up! You’re no better than them!”

  The bed was low enough that Silas put his knee on her back, trapping her there. “You’ll get double if I have to hold you down to take it. Choose!” he ordered.

  Her struggle was his answer and he raised the strap and brought it down hard across her bottom. She screamed but he drew his arm back again and struck a second time, directly beneath the first lash. Rowan clawed at the bed and tried to gain purchase with her feet but her efforts were futile. He struck a third and fourth time, at which point he paused to raise the skirt of her dress and bare her now welted bottom.

  “Please!” she called out when he struck again, angry at her defiance, angry that she might have been hurt if one of the villagers who did not want her here harmed her out of fear, angry that she had gone into that room where the remnants of the life that had been torn from him lay collecting dust layered as thick as it had collected over his heart, his entire world.

  With the next strokes, he found himself breathing hard, punishing her for her sins but also for those that did not belong to her. It was unfair, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. When he moved his knee, she scrambled up onto the bed, trying to get away from him. She turned onto her side, her eyes wide on the thick strap, but when he took hold of one ankle and dragged her backward, she squeezed her eyes shut and tucked her fisted hands beneath her chest, knowing she could not escape him.

  Without speaking, he punished her. He struck hard, every inch of her bottom and then the tops of her thighs marked with the vicious bite of the unforgiving strap and when she finally lay still and he felt the wet heat of tears collecting in his own eyes, he threw the strap aside.

  Rowan whimpered and inched farther up toward the headboard, but Silas climbed onto the bed behind her, lifting her by her hips so that she lay with her face in the mattress, her bare, striped bottom lifted high as he settled between her widespread knees. Without any gentleness, he pressed his thick cock into her pussy.

  He wanted to drive into her, to take from her without giving anything back. God knew after whipping her, that that was how he should take her, how he needed to take her. But as he looked down at her still, waiting form, no longer struggling, just waiting, knowing what would now come, he could not. Instead, he reached one hand around and with his cock deep inside her, he found her swollen clit and his fingers grew as wet as his cock in her drenched pussy.

  “Come,” he said, his voice hoarse, his fingers working her clit while he fucked her, his cock thrusting in and out of her, stretching her tight pussy to accommodate his thick length. “Come, Rowan.”

  * * *

  Rowan’s mouth went slack as his fingers worked her clit. Her ass felt as though it were aflame while his cock stretched and filled her pussy, burning her from the inside with its merciless assault. She shouldn’t want to come. She shouldn’t want to give herself like this. He could take her, he would take her, whether she wanted it or not, but she shouldn’t want it. He had just punished her without pity. He had whipped her harder than she had ever been whipped in her life. And here she was, moments away from an ecstasy she did not understand.

  “Come,” he said again, emotion turning the word into a desperate plea, leaving her no choice but to come, and when she did, he moved faster inside her, fucking her harder, his one hand holding her hip high, digging into the flesh there as his movements grew more frantic until he made that same desperate sound again, his cock throbbing, pulsing, releasing his seed into her, until finally, he collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the bed.

  Their breathing quieted in time and Silas rolled off her and onto his side, holding her tight to him with the very hand that had dealt her cruel punishment. She looked down at it, at his fingers splayed wide over her belly, keeping her to him. She touched it lightly at first, then pressed her hand over his and sucked in a deep, ragged breath, feeling quiet and a sort of solace as silent tears slid down her face. Tears not at the pain, not at the punishment she had endured, but perhaps more tears of acceptance, of knowing her fate fully. Strangely, it was a welcome thing and something had shifted between them. Maybe he too had come to that acceptance, she wondered. Perhaps they both needed this: he to give and she to take this punishment that didn’t wholly belong to her. Whatever it was, something had shifted.

  Rowan closed her eyes while Silas held her, her back to his front. Her bottom stung, felt too hot, the skin stretched too tight, but she simply allowed him to hold her.

  “I hurt you.” Although his words were a whisper, the low rumble of his voice made her shudder and she wondered if he had meant to say them out loud at all. He turned her then so she lay on her back, all the while feeling his seed leak from inside her, sticking to her thighs, to the bed, the room smelling of sex. He remained as he was, lying flat next to her, his breath mixing with hers, his heat with hers as he wiped the hair back from her forehead.

  “I only wanted to see what was there to understand you. To know you.”

  She looked into his eyes, the layers of emotion, of tragedy and of a sadness too heavy and too dark in their depths. She listened to his soft exhale, watched his eyelids close over all of that emotion, felt his struggle and then, finally, his decision. He opened his eyes and, his tone neutral, she listened to the words that sealed her fate:

  “They have my son.”

  Chapter Nine

  If Commander Norrin held Silas’ son and ransom was the breeder children Rowan would bear him, then she was doomed. Rowan lay in his bed with her back to Silas, not sure either of them slept this night.

  As much as his confession earlier that evening made her feel for him, made her sympathize and even not blame him for the role he now played in her life, she knew her fate was sealed. He would not abandon his son to help her escape the colony. And he could not condemn the people of the village to death by doing so. If he would do such a thing, she might even hate him for it. But what about the children he would create with her? She had asked the question but his response had been silence. The children she would bear him would be different. They would be breeders—not human. At least not human enough. In a way, she understood his need to lessen their significance, knew the weight he carried, the number of lives that hung in the balance.

  Rowan felt more alone now that she knew than she had before. She closed her eyes, wiping at a tear, trying not to make any sound.

  She had no choice but to carry on with the selenium. It was the only way to ensure she would not become pregnant and that was the only way to survive this. She could no more think of his son than he could of her or her future children.

  * * *

  When she woke the next morning, it was to the smell of the coffee sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. She looked around, finding the back door open.
Silas’ tablet sat on the kitchen counter and she knew he must be outside. Climbing out of the bed, she donned her dress, flinching a little when she touched her bottom, the bruises from her strapping the night before would make sitting uncomfortable for the coming days. She wondered if he realized how hard he had struck her. He was easily twice her size and physically stronger than anyone she knew, even the guards of the colony.

  Once dressed, she picked up her coffee and joined him outside. There, she found Silas studying the herb garden and for a moment, she wondered if he would know what the selenium was for. If he would recognize the herb at all.

  “Looks good,” he said when he turned to see her standing there. “Dr. Stone was impressed with your knowledge yesterday.” He wiped the dirt from his hands on his pants. Rowan’s eyes traveled across the large expanse of his chest, hovering again over the markings on his arm, neck, and torso before returning her gaze to his. His dark hair still dripped from his bath and she noticed his face was, for the first time since she had known him, clean of hair.

  “Where is the hair from your face?” she asked, stepping closer to see, unable to resist touching the chiseled line of his jaw.

  He looked at her as if confused for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked, touching the spot her fingers had just been.

  “You had hair on your face.”

  His expression told her he understood her confusion and he smiled a little. “We shave our faces, most of us at least,” Silas said. “The hair grows back daily. Too quickly even, and it’s uncomfortable.”

  “Oh. The men of the colony don’t have hair on their faces. Some perhaps a few over their lip but it’s soft and fine, not like yours. Also this,” she said, touching his chest, her mouth watering a little when his muscle bulked up beneath her fingers as if he too were startled by her touch. His skin felt warm and soft beneath the dark hair on his chest. Without asking, she dragged her fingers through it, pausing when she reached his nipple. She felt it harden beneath her fingers and watched his throat work as he swallowed. The charge in the air between them was palpable and she had to remind herself to breathe as her body responded to his. She trailed her fingers softly toward the markings on his shoulder, tracing the pattern down over his thickly muscled bicep, his forearm that was also dusted with dark hair.