BOUND (#1 in The Crystor Series)

by C.K. Bryant

Chapter Four

  “Lydia!”

  “Kira, get out of here! Go back!” Lydia’s voice cried out, and relief flooded Kira’s heart. She ignored the warning, crossed the bridge and wound through the overgrown bushes crowding the narrow path.

  “Lydia, where are you?” A long moment passed before Kira caught a glimpse of Lydia’s beige sweater. She pushed a few branches aside to let her through, only to be horrified by the sight. Lydia held her left arm pressed against her blood-soaked side—a bloody knife trembling in her hand.

  “You can’t be here. You have to go back,” Lydia said with a shaky voice. “Take my car to your house and I’ll get it later.”

  “Don’t be stupid—I’m not leaving you. You’re hurt.”

  “I never should’ve brought you here,” she continued as if Kira hadn’t spoken. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t know what I was thinking. You have to go.” She looked into Kira’s eyes. “You can’t help me. Please, go home.”

  When Kira still refused to leave, Lydia finally gave in. She leaned heavily on Kira’s arm for support as they made their way back across the bridge and found a tree stump for Lydia to rest on. Lydia peeled her hand away enough to expose her blood-soaked sweater.

  “Oh, Lydia. We need to get you to the hospital. Do you think you can make it to the car?” Kira stepped closer to help her stand, but Lydia refused.

  “No, I can’t go to the hospital.” Tears filled Lydia’s eyes. “You’re gonna be so . . . mad at me. I wanted to tell you. I swear I did.”

  “Mad at you? What are you talking about? This wasn’t your fault.” Kira leaned over and tried to pull Lydia’s arm away to get a better look. “Let go so I can see.”

  Lydia shoved Kira back so hard she almost lost her footing. Lydia’s eyes surged from green to icy-blue and back again.

  “Do not touch me,” Lydia said with that voice that was far from her own. Still holding the knife in her hand, she threw it so the blade stuck in the dirt next to Kira’s foot. The handle wobbled back and forth, vibrating against the rubber sole of her shoe.

  Kira stepped back and sat on a small boulder across from Lydia. Her stomach twisted into knots. Nothing made sense. “What just happened? You’re eyes . . . and back by the car you looked . . . different.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

  “See what?”

  Lydia took in a quivering breath before sliding off the stump and onto the ground, resting her back against the weathered bark. She rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I don’t have time to explain.”

  Kira’s stomach crept into her throat and the spine chilling sensation she’d felt before returned. “What the hell’s going on, Lydia?”

  Lydia reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out her ruby pendant—a family heirloom Kira knew she cherished more than anything else. Lydia closed her eyes and rubbed the stone with her thumb.

  The air around them grew heavy and breathing it in felt like sucking mud through a straw. The skin on Kira’s arms tingled, and thick silence settled around them. Nothing moved, not even the leaves that only seconds before seemed alive in the slight breeze. It was as if she’d been frozen in time—feeling nothing—except for the foreboding sensation that an unfamiliar force had completely consumed her.

  Lydia’s pain-filled expression melted away, leaving relief in its place. She reached out with her free hand and sighed. “Octavion, I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry.”

  A large figure brushed past Kira creating a blast of warm air that knocked her off her rock and onto the ground. The sudden movement lifted the heaviness that surrounded her and returned her senses, but it didn’t erase her fears. She pulled herself up to sit on the rock, cringing when the muscles in her side tensed.

  Next to Lydia, a young man knelt on one knee, examining her wound. From the back, he was a vast expanse of lean muscle. He wore dark brown leather pants tucked into a brown pair of boots that went almost to his knees. Thin strips of leather wound around them, cinching them to his calves. His shirt was . . . well, he really wasn’t wearing a shirt, but rather a leather vest that fit snug against his bronzed skin. He didn’t look much older than her, maybe nineteen or twenty.

  Kira froze when he rounded on her, the rage in his eyes frightening. She glanced down at the knife sticking out of the ground at her feet and without thinking, plucked it from the dirt, and thrust the trembling blade in his direction. No way was she cowering this time, not with Lydia injured. It was up to her to protect them now.

  “Stop!” Lydia screamed.

  Her plea went unanswered as his focus shifted to the bloody weapon, then back to Kira. “You did this?” With one fluid motion, he turned, picked her up by the front of her jacket and slammed her back against a tree, knocking the breath out of her. He took her knife by the blade and pitched it into a nearby stump. With one hand knotted in the folds of her jacket, holding her up, he tightened the other around her throat.

  “Why?” he roared as a rumbling growl escaped his chest. “She trusted you!” The pupils of his deep blue eyes widened to large, round orbs of black surrounded by tiny threads of yellow—like a wild cat.

  Kira opened her mouth to speak, but only a strained gasp came out. Lowering his chin, Octavion brought his cat-like eyes even closer. His warm breath washed over her as she tried to inhale, but the only air she drew in was his scent—a woodsy musk that seemed strangely familiar.

  “Octavion!” Lydia cried. “Put Kira down—it wasn’t her.”

  He growled again, only this time it seemed more out of frustration than anger. A lock of chestnut hair fell over his face as he loosened his grip and lowered Kira to the ground. “Do not move.” His voice held the same accent Lydia’s had when she changed.

  Kira held her hand to her throat as she tried to catch her breath and make sense of what she’d seen. Too terrified to decipher the confusing thoughts that were bouncing around in her head, the change in his eyes flashed in her mind and she couldn’t shake it. Who was this guy and why wasn’t Lydia afraid of him? She pulled the sides of her jacket together with trembling hands.

  “Who did this to you?” he asked, crouching before Lydia.

  “I didn’t recognize them, but they were Shandira’s men—scouts, I think. They came out of nowhere.” Tears trickled down her face. “I lost it. I couldn’t control myself and now she knows where we are.” Her fragile voice changed to a whisper. “Kira saw me . . . transform.”

  “If Shandira had our location, she wouldn’t be dispatching scouts—you know this. Which way did they go?” The muscles in his back seemed to swell as he waited for her answer.

  “They didn’t go anywhere.” Lydia motioned to the area on the other side of the creek. “But you might want to tie them up.”

  He shook his head, his long hair barely brushing the tops of his shoulders. “You are not making my life any easier by fighting them. I am your guardian, remember?” Then he grabbed the huge knife strapped to his side, bolted across the bridge, and behind a thick stand of trees.

  Kira had never seen anyone move so quickly. Before she turned her head to follow his movement, he’d gone. “Lydia. What’s going on, and . . . who was that?”

  “Octavion’s my brother.”

  “Brother? But you told me you’re an only child. And who’s Shandira?”

  Lydia hesitated for a moment before answering. “My sister.”

  “Great.” Psycho siblings. Kira’s stomach twisted into a knot. And Kira thought her family life sucked.

  Lydia’s hands no longer pressed against the wound in her side, but lay at rest in her lap. The bloodstain had spread to her jeans and there was no sign of it stopping. If Kira couldn’t take her to the hospital, she’d have to do the next best thing.

  Kira walked to where Octavion threw the knife, and wiggled the blade from the bark. Her fingers slipped around the bloody handle until they found a firm grip. She fought back the bile
that rose in her throat and went to Lydia’s side.

  “We need to stop the bleeding,” Kira said. “Get mad if you want, but I’m doing this.”

  Lydia nodded.

  Kira cut the clean sleeve from Lydia’s sweater, turned it inside out to reveal the smoother fibers, and lifted the shirt just enough to expose the gash in her side. It wasn’t just a small puncture like she’d hoped, but a jagged four-inch gouge that ran just under Lydia’s rib cage. Kira swallowed hard. She wadded the piece of sweater and pressed it firmly against the wound. Lydia cried out, pushing Kira’s arm away.

  “I’m sorry, but we have to stop the bleeding,” Kira said.

  Lydia’s fingers dug into Kira’s skin as she tried to apply more pressure to the makeshift bandage. “Kira, stop,” Lydia begged, just as Octavion came back into view.

  “Do not touch her,” he yelled as he swung his arm in Kira’s direction, brushing her aside.

  The force behind his blow wasn’t heavy, but it caught Kira off guard and she stumbled back, tripped over a tree root and landed against the rock she’d been sitting on. As if stuck in the metal jaws of a vise, her arm caught between it and the forward momentum of her body. She slumped to the ground. The last time she’d been hurt like that was when Paul came home drunk after losing big in a poker game. She couldn’t imagine Lydia being mixed up with a guy like that—brother or not.

  She clenched her fist and bent her arm at the elbow. She didn’t think it was broken, though the pain was almost unbearable. Her instincts told her to run, but how could she leave Lydia? Instead, she scooted closer to the tree to stay out of the way, and cradled her arm against her tender ribs.

  “Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Octavion showed no sign that he’d heard her. He was too busy examining Lydia’s wound again. This time Kira had a better view of his face. His strong chiseled jaw tightened as the crease between his eyes furrowed. “This is deep.” He ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “How am I to protect you if you do such foolish things?”

  Lydia’s bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry. You know how she gets. I . . . I’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She gave him a half smile.

  Their eyes locked for a long moment before he slipped one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, lifting her from the ground. Lydia relaxed against his chest, then turned her head to look at Kira.

  “He won’t hurt you. Trust him—it’ll be okay.”

  Kira nodded, but inside she questioned everything, especially whether or not Octavion would hurt her. Her throbbing arm already testified to his inability to control his temper.

  Octavion adjusted his hold on Lydia, making her cringe and moan in pain. “Forgive me,” he said. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. You’re coming back for her, right?” It was more a request than a question.

  “Yes, I am.” His next words were directed to Kira. “You will not move. Do you understand?”

  Kira was too afraid to speak, so she just nodded, again.

  Octavion carried Lydia a few feet into the forest then disappeared, leaving a thin white mist in their place. It hung in the air for a few seconds before melting into the cold forest floor. Kira blinked hard, thinking she’d imagined it, but when she heard no footsteps leading away, she pulled herself up from the ground and ordered her legs to move. Regardless of his warning, there was no way she was waiting around for another dose of his temper.

  She turned down the narrow path that led to the car and quickened her step, taking Lydia’s keys from her pocket. The car was in sight. A few more steps and Kira would be on her way home. With the door handle mere inches from her fingers, she heard Octavion swear and the heavy weight of his hand clamped over her shoulder, pulling her back. He spun her around, grabbed her arms, and lifted her to sit on the hood.

  “I told you not to move,” he scolded.

  “Let go of me.” Kira tightened her fingers around the keys and took a swing at him. He caught her fist before it made contact with his face. The keys pinched her hand as his strong grip pressed them into her palm.

  “Stop! You’re hurting me.”

  He loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “Calm down and I will release you.”

  But Kira wasn’t about to give in. Instead, she started kicking her feet until one connected with his knee. He simply pushed her legs to one side, shoved them against his solid thigh, and held them with the spread of his fingers across her knees. Both of his hands were occupied, but she still had one loose—she doubled her fist and swung at his face again. He ducked and twisted his body just before she hit, sending her knuckles into his rock-hard shoulder.

  “Ouch!” Kira pulled her hand back and tried to shake away the pain. “Why did you do that?”

  He raised one brow and grinned. Two deep impressions appeared—one on each cheek—dimples. “You hit me,” he said. “Are you finished?”

  “No!” Kira tried to squirm loose.

  He let go and took a step back, folding his arms in front of his chest. “When you stop acting like a child, I will take you to Lydia.”

  “Just leave me alone.” Kira pushed herself half way across the hood of the car, only to have his strong hand wrap around her arm from behind, pulling her back across the hood and onto the ground. Her feet slid on the gravel and she almost lost her footing, but his hold kept her upright. He leaned forward, pressed her body between his and the side of the car, then brought both her hands in front and held them with one of his.

  “Let go. You’re hurting me.” The strength of his grip made her fingers ache. She tried to wiggle free from between the cold metal and glass of the car, and the heat of Octavion’s body, but he just leaned more of his weight on her, making it harder for her to take in air. “Stop!”

  “Kira, I am not trying to hurt you. Be still.” He took the keys out of her hand, slid them into his vest pocket, and readjusted his grip.

  With his free hand, he reached into a pouch that hung from his belt and retrieved a small, brown bottle no bigger than his thumb. He bit down on the cork, pulled it out, and spat it onto the ground, then took in a deep breath. As he brought the bottle up between them, a fine white powder spilled out, distorting her view. He blew the substance into her face, then stepped back.

  Free from the pressure of his body pushing against hers, Kira drew the white powder into her lungs with her first breath. The trees began to sway and her focus blurred right before her knees collapsed out from under her.

  Octavion scooped her into his arms. “Close your eyes.”

  “Why? What are you . . . doing?” Kira’s eyes drooped to thin slits as every muscle in her body went limp. She was paralyzed. She felt the warmth of his touch and his strong arms around her, but she couldn’t move. How can that be? She tried to speak again, but now her lips wouldn’t move either. She groaned.

  “You are safe with me. Do not fight it, Kira. Close your eyes.” His smooth, deep voice hung in the air like a thick fog as the other sounds around her faded away. She wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of his breath rushing over her or the effects of the powder that made her melt into his arms, but his embrace felt . . . comforting. His natural musk mixed perfectly with the earth and pine of the mountain. The combination engulfed her senses. She closed her eyes and took it in.

  Octavion’s arms stiffened and a horrible roaring sound filled her ears. It felt as though they were sucked through a tunnel, racing between its cold stone wall and a speeding train. It only lasted a few seconds, but the effect left her gasping and fighting for her next breath. A strange, floating feeling came over her as the stale air she tried to bring into her lungs turned fresh and clean. She inhaled deeply.

  “You can open your eyes now,” Octavion said.

  Kira forced her eyelids to part, blinking several times until her eyes focused. He stood in the center of a thick grove of trees, their branches so dense the area was almost completely enclosed. In the middle, a fire crackled, surrounded by se
veral large rocks. The tiny flames licked at the night air, sending sparks into the sky.

  Octavion lowered her to rest on something soft. “You must stay here.”

  Kira still felt a little dizzy—her eyes moving in and out of focus—but the movement in her fingers and hands had returned, so she tried her voice. “What did you . . . do to me?”

  “The effects of the V’Larian will wear off soon. Can I trust you to stay here or shall I bind you to that rotten log?” He motioned behind her, but she didn’t look. She couldn’t have moved anyway.

  “I’ll stay, but . . . you said I could see Lydia.”

  “It will be easier on both of you if you stay here for now. You are safe here. I will come for you soon.” Then he walked across the clearing and into the shadows of the forest.