Hunted!

by Terri Pray

  “Raven?”

  Nothing. Just the sounds of the hounds coming ever closer.

  “Raven, please. You can't just leave me here.”

  A crack of a twig, footsteps through the undergrowth. Good, it had to be him. She frowned, focusing on the shape, taking in the tri-corn hat and the full great coat that was so easily mistaken for a cloak at times.

  “Oh thank god. I thought I was alone.”

  Eyes of ice pierced her soul.

  “Ah my pet, did you think I would ever leave you alone?” Davien's face, those eyes, his voice. He grasped her by the arms pulling her close. “You're mine, little slave. Mine until the day you die. I'll never let you go, even your Raven knows that.”

  "No!"

  * * * *

  Cold sweat coated her flesh, the dream still lingering at the back of her mind as she sat bolt upright on the straw. Was she never to know safety? A time away from him? Why, when she hated him so much, did he invade her dreams?

  Not him, she didn't want him, yet he stalked her through every moment of her life.

  The hunt.

  Her only chance of escape was the hunt.

  If she ran long enough, hard enough and kept her focus on where she was going, what she was doing, then she stood a chance, a real chance of finally breaking free. Yet he knew the land, the area, she didn't. She'd be naked, without funds, what hope did she have of anyone taking pity on a naked woman.

  Just another target to the locals, or worse they would turn her back over to him.

  And what of Kenneth? If he killed Davien and then caught her, which he had made clear he planned on doing, then he'd own her. That cherub faced youth with a hatred that burned in his gaze.

  Would he take pity on her, for what she had been through at the hands of one he classed as an enemy? Somehow she doubted it.

  Celeste frowned and brushed a little of the straw away from her body. There had to be another way?

  The woods that surrounded the outskirts of the estate offered an option. With the right branch in her hand she'd have a decent enough club and might be able to hold them off long enough to get a real weapon from one of the men.

  No one had said she couldn't fight back.

  “Come on slut, on your feet. They'll be up and ready to hunt you down soon enough. If you want to wash off, and get a little food in you before we set you free then now's the time to do it.” One of the stable hands slipped into the stall she had been settled down in, unlocking the chain from about her ankle. His gaze lingered on her nude form, the outline of his hardening cock easily seen despite the covering of his heavy work pants.

  “I'm a little thirsty,” she admitted.

  “Well then up you get and follow me, you've got about half an hour to grab something then run before they come after you. Now listen up, the beaters will be around the edge of the estate and they'll be watching in case you try anything foolish so you just be a good girl and give the gentlemen the sport they want.” He reached for one breast, squeezing it.

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmured, lowering her gaze, her nipple hardening under his touch. Sport. That's what she was, a source of entertainment. Well she had other ideas in mind.

  He looked slowly over her nude body, a smile forming. “Of course, since the others are busy there's no reason I shouldn't have a little fun first, is there?”

  “But the hunt?”

  “They're going to catch you regardless, ten minutes more or less isn't going to do you any good.” He grinned shoving her back down onto the straw with a harsh push. “Spread them girl. Best make this good and fast if you want any head start time.”

  She whimpered as he lowered down between her parted thighs, one hand loosening his pants as he pulled his cock out without any hesitation, or preparation for her body. All he was interested in was taking what he wanted and sending her on her way.

  Yet her body throbbed at the thought of him hurrying to use her and then toss her out for the hunt. She arched to him, reaching out to hold him as the head of his cock pressed between her slick, swollen labia. She groaned, pressing up to him as he thrust into her depths with a low snarl of delight.

  “Slick little cunt, aren't you. The Masters pet, all wet and willing.” He hadn't even bothered to strip, just lowered his pants enough to enter her. His coarse clothing brushed over her flesh. “Wriggle for me, come on, writhe, I want to know you're trying to please me, like you would the Master, or one of his fancy friends.”

  A slut, a whore, the pet, a slave in training. Yes, all of that and far more. She pressed to him, lifting her thighs, closing them on either side of his hips as she locked her ankles behind his ass.

  “Sweet little slut.” His teeth grazed over her throat. “You need a good man, a decent man, not a stuck up gent like his lordship.” He thrust into her body, his cock pressing against her inner walls. “Tight, so hot and tight.”

  She tried to rock to meet each of his thrusts into her body, seeking to bring a moment of pleasure for herself, yet there was no time, no moment where her body was able to find the right pace. Nor did the stable hand give her even a brief caress that might have granted her a small measure of delight.

  “Move, that's it, move for me. Fuck, tight little chit. Never would have guessed it from the way you're used up in the house. Fuck back against me, that's it.” Sweat beaded across his brow, even from the few moments of effort, he grabbed her wrists, yanking them over her head, crossing them at the wrist. “My slave, for the moment... mine, not his. Gods yes.”

  His cock throbbed against her heated inner walls, forcing them apart as he drove into her pinned body. Her breasts crushed against her chest, trapped by his body. Each rock driving him deeper into his own rush of desire. His free hand tangled in her hair, a swift yank enough to tip her head upwards as he claimed her lips in a harsh, near brutal kiss that left her lips coated with blood.

  With a feral cry of need he shuddered, releasing his pleasure into her shuddering body. She whimpered, her thighs tight on either side of his hips, her body closed on his cock even as he pulled free of her slick walls then slid out from between her thighs.

  “Up you get then, you've still got a little time before they start after you.” He tucked his now flaccid penis back into his pants.

  She opened her mouth to protest, to speak of the need that had been left unanswered in her body, then closed it quickly. What did they care about her desires? After all, she was there to serve them, not the other way around. Saying something would have only eaten further into her already limited head start.

  “Off you go lass, and give them a good run out there.” He patted her ass as she slipped past him.

  She wanted to turn around and slap him from one side of the barn to the other for the lack of care he had shown towards her needs. Instead she smiled sweetly, offered a quick bob as she spoke. “Yes, Sir. I plan on doing just that.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cold, she'd forgotten how cold it could be out away from a house, and with no clothes to offer some level of protection she was left shivering even as she ran into the safety of the trees. Her feet had been cut before she'd even left the edge of the path, small stones had torn into her soles, leaving her limping even as she fled in search of what limited shelter the wooded stretch might provide.

  Bastard. He could have given her at least a pair of basic shoes or boots for this.

  The long, low noise of the horn was the only warning she had that the hunt had begun. Not even a full thirty minutes head start if she had judged the time correctly, nearer fifteen, or close to that.

  Panic threatened to take control of her form, urging her to turn around and look for the men that hunted her.

  Mistake. She'd waste time and increase the chances of being caught if she hesitated like that. Better to use her ears and keep running. Find a good place to hole up, then wait it out. Hope that they didn't use the hounds she had heard in her dream.

  A low rumble? A storm or something else?

  Keep
moving, don't think about the noise, or where the men might be that now attempted to hunt her down. Keep running, keep from thinking about the men, their purpose, and what might happen if she was caught.

  Thick brush, branches that swept out down towards her, reaching for her nude form. Fingers of wood that dug into her body, scraping her skin as she ran. More marks, more blood spilt in her desire to be free of that man. A price worth paying if it meant being free.

  Horses?

  She glanced back over her shoulder, peering through the trees. Gods, they were on horseback, that was what she had felt. The hooves against the ground. Not that it would do them much good amongst the trees. Too close together, or so she hoped.

  She darted further into the woods, her breath catching in the back of her throat, the small shards of pain lanced through the soles of her feet, a bitter reminder of the lack of boots.

  How much time would she have before the first of them reached the edge of the overgrowth? A minute, less than? Not something she needed to contemplate.

  How long she moved through the trees she had no way of knowing, enough to leave her tired, sore and coated with sweat. The sun had rose high into the sky, and had begun to sink already, the shadows lengthening with each beat of her trembling heart.

  Her stomach growled with the need for food, her thighs and feet hurt from the constant movement. She had to find a place to recover, to get some rest, but there had already been so many close calls. There had been several times when she had been forced to crawl for cover, hiding from one of the men when they had come too close to finding her.

  There, what was that? A gap in the trees, a clearing, little more than a few feet wide. Leading where?

  She peered through it, searching for some sign of a trap. He knew the area, must have known about this and if she took the option of the easier path then she'd be caught. Celeste took a nervous step towards the gap, searching for some sign of the trap she suspected it would be. A thread, little more than a piece of yarn, set low across the opening. Ankle level. Leading to what? Her gaze carried upwards, a net? Clever. Banking on her being panic ridden no doubt.

  Alright, so he'd been out here at some point preparing his lands. If there was one trap, then there would be others. So if she kept to the harder routes then there was less chance of stumbling into one of the nets, or whatever else he had set up out here.

  Even as she turned and moved through the thick brush something didn't sit right with her. Why would a man so confident as Davien Blood stoop to putting out traps.

  He hadn't.

  Another who had snuck out during the night must have set them.

  Kenneth?

  Perhaps. She had no way of knowing right now, and if that was the case the men chasing here were at just as much risk of stumbling into the traps as she had been. And Davien, would he see them in time, or be caught by them.

  Kenneth. That damn man. What if the traps hadn't been set for her, but for her Master?

  Cold sweat coated her form in tiny beads that left her shivering in a mix of fear and cold combined. She had to find a way out of this, some place to hide whilst she came up with a way of escaping, or at least a decent place to shelter for the next few hours. Maybe they would give up by noon?

  Not likely but she could still hope.

  She faltered, looking back at the trap. If so then she had a choice to make. A dangerous choice. Go on and focus on her escape, or warn the man that owned her. It should have been a simple decision...

  So why did her throat almost close at the thought of leaving him to be caught in that net, or any others like it?

  He'd raped her, beaten her, turned her world upside down and reduced her to a target in a game. Yet she hated the thought of him being captured then killed by Kenneth, there was something about the innocent and handsome young man that set her teeth on edge. Something almost rotten that shone from his eyes, lingered on his skin like a foul smell.

  Sick. To the very core. The man was evil. No, that was too strong a term, but just thinking about him left her uneasy.

  She slipped further into the brush and crouched down, hiding within the depths of the shrubs. Running further would have been pointless right now. They were close. Better to play the silent watcher.

  A snap, twigs, under growth broken under the passage of booted feet.

  Who?

  She tensed, keeping close to the ground, hoping the cover would be enough to hide her from a casual glance. Anything more and she would have to run, that much she accepted.

  Boots, not one set but two. Coming in at slightly different directions. Both about the same weight if she was guessing correctly, she pressed further down against the ground, taking care not to disturb her scant protective cover.

  “Come on, Davien. I know you're there.”

  Kenneth. Damnit. Please, don't let Davien be out there, let him be mistaken. Let Davien be safe.

  “Of course you do, I never intended to sneak up on you. Just as I have no desire to walk into your little traps. Did you really think I wouldn't be aware of what you were up to last night? Or first thing this morning?” Davien moved quietly into sight, a confident smile touching his full lips. “It's my home, dear boy. I know everything that happens here, right down to your petty little attempts to bribe certain members of my staff.”

  Her hands clenched into fists against the cool earth. Kenneth had stooped that low? Whatever hopes she had held out that some shred of honor remained amongst the ruling class vanished with the new knowledge.

  “It was worth a try, father had mentioned that you kept your household on a tight reign, but he never guessed how far that went.” Kenneth gave a slight bow towards his enemy. “Well then, what shall we do? Obviously, one of us needs to die today and I really have no wish to volunteer for the position.”

  “And as I have no intention of dying, you might just find that what you want and what will happen are seldom quite the same thing.” Davien rested his hand on the hilt of his flintlock. “Strange, it looks as though you ventured here almost unarmed. Yet, I'd be a fool to believe that to be the truth. So, what little extra did you bring with you, Kenneth. What weapons have you at the ready to face me with?”

  “Enough to deal with you,” Kenneth shrugged.

  “You were hoping I'd stumble into your little traps, no doubt. Then you could finish me off with a dagger, proving you bested me in single combat. How droll.” He leaned back against the nearest tree.

  “I had some minor hopes of that nature.”

  “Hope can be very dangerous, or so I am told?” Davien shrugged, brushing his fingertip over the grip of the flintlock. “So do we stand here and discuss matters as if we were both gentlemen? Or get down to the fight.”

  “Eager to die?” Kenneth pressed.

  “No, but a good fight heats the blood, and there's nothing quite like taking a woman moment's after your life has been threatened. Quite a rush there, which I'm sure your father would have told you at some point.” Davien spoke calmly. “I'm sure he told you quite a bit about how things work. From the basics of controlling a woman to the way taking a life or having your life threatened heats the blood.”

  Heated the blood? The man that had ice water in his veins admitted to enjoying passion? If causing the death of another could be classed as a passion. Celeste bit into her bottom lip as she listened. Men were odd, but she'd listened to the talk of the soldiers and the gossip of the local whores. They'd spoken of something similar. How men would pile into their places of work after a good brawl, eager to lay their hands on any willing woman in the drive to satisfy their needs.

  “He mentioned something about that, and about the slut your mother was.”

  “She was Irish,” he shrugged. “And a slave. She obeyed as she was meant to. So say what you will about her, she means nothing to me. No woman means more to me than a pretty piece of property.”

  Irish. His mother? Celeste blinked and stared at the calm figure. How could it be possible? He couldn't trea
t one of his mothers own people like this. One of his kin like this?

  “Ah, that's why you picked up the little white haired slut,” Kenneth smiled. “She reminds you of your past. Interesting. All the more reason to claim her instead of letting her remain in your hands, don't you think?”

  “Revenge, it rules your life. I'm well aware of that, but the endless questions are without point. Unless... ” Davien frowned and looked around. “Ah of course. You're waiting for your friends to stop by and help you. Interesting. How many did you sign up to help you this time?”

  “Four,” Kenneth admitted.

  The coward. How could he think of doing that?

  “Not enough, but then again you weren't to know that.” Davien smiled, a cool calm look claiming his gaze. “They won't make it here of course. You don't have enough to pay for my guards to let them into the grounds. Oh, they will try, then attempt to gain access over the walls. Between the dogs and the grounds keepers, I believe I'm quite safe from your little friends.”

  The color drained from Kenneth's face.

  “So, shall we begin, or do you want to linger in hope that one of your hired hands will make it through the gauntlet?

  “One will make it, maybe two, then you'll face us all.”

  “Are you sure. My grounds keepers are very well trained. They will have no doubt caught them and sounded the alarm. And by now they will be searching for any signs of successful intrusion into my lands.”

  Kenneth hesitated a moment before speaking. “You could just be trying to make me move before I am ready.”

  “Is that a chance you are willing to take? It could have all been all so very different between us. All you had to do was bury the past, now you'll be buried because of it.”

  The younger man moved without another word, sliding a dagger from beneath his coat, a low snarl forced between his clenched teeth.

  She tensed, a cry of warning swallowed... she wanted him dead, just not like this. Not at the hands of a man who didn't know how to play fair.