Taken by the Enemy

by Jennifer Bene

  Emmie sniffled. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, all the newbies break down at some point.”

  “I’m not breaking down,” Emmie grumbled defensively.

  “Okay, well, here are your clothes, and you’re welcome to stay in here as long as you need to finish not breaking down.” Lucian’s cocky voice was back, and she grabbed her shoe from the pile and threw it at him. He caught it in one hand with infuriating ease and held it at his side. “Is this a tantrum?”

  “Fuck off.” Emmie rolled her eyes and dug her panties from the pile of clothes. Standing, she turned around to pull them on, well aware of his gaze on her backside. It wasn’t until she was drawing her panties up that she remembered the welts he’d given her from the switch. The fabric grazed them, and she hissed between her teeth as Lucian groaned behind her. When she turned, he slowly brought his hands in front of his crotch, her shoe dangling from one of his fingers.

  “Really?” she asked, exasperated.

  “What can I say? It’s a spectacular view.” Lucian grinned, and it was the kind of wild grin that made his youth apparent. Twenty-three. She’d done the math in her head after his story, and although he was normally commanding, and serious, and sort of an asshole – when he grinned like that, he looked exactly his age.

  “Pandering doesn’t suit you,” she retorted, beginning to wrap the cloth around her breasts.

  “You’re gorgeous, Em —” he stopped himself from using her name and laughed before he continued, “- little bird. Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”

  “Whatever you say.” Emmie pulled her shirts on, layering them again and tugging at the fabric until they were comfortable. She thought of grabbing the fresh clothes from her bag, but didn’t want the argument. Just as she was pulling her pants over her hips, she felt his presence behind her, and she turned to find him so close that they were almost touching.

  “Are you always this mouthy, or am I special?” His grin was still there, and as he tilted his head to look down at her, his hair fell across his forehead.

  “You’re definitely not special.”

  “Good to know,” Lucian muttered, and then he kissed her. The shock of it froze her, but then his hand gently moved into her loose, brown waves and she found herself opening her mouth to his. He nibbled her lip, leaning her back a little until she had to grip his shirt to stay steady. That drew a growl from him, and the kiss intensified, his tongue delving into her mouth to meet her own for a moment before drawing back so he could nip her lip again. Emmie mimicked him, dragging her teeth carefully over his bottom lip the next time he pulled back to change the angle of the kiss. His grip tightened in her hair, and a moan slid from her before he silenced it with his mouth against hers. Suddenly, he tore himself back with a low growl, breaking her grip on his shirt. “Fuck.”

  “I —” Emmie raised her hand to her swollen lips, unsure of what to say as Lucian stepped back to drop into his chair.

  “I didn’t mean to – I just…” Lucian cursed and looked at the roof as he ran his hands over his face. “You’re irresistible.”

  A blush crept into her cheeks as Emmie turned away from him, buttoning her pants before sitting on the bed to pull her socks on.

  “I’m losing my mind,” Lucian muttered to himself, the words half-muffled against his hands.

  “If it helps, I already thought you were insane.” Emmie smirked when he dropped his hands and stared at her, open-mouthed.

  “Thanks.” His sarcasm was obvious, but it just made her grin behind the curtain of her hair as she leaned down to tug on her shoe. “Here,” he called over to her and she looked up just in time to catch her other shoe as he tossed it.

  Soon she was fully dressed, and an awkward silence descended between them. She needed space. Space to process everything that had happened, everything he had told her, everything she had told him. “Okay, so what happens now?”

  “You can go, I won’t stop you.” Lucian gestured to the door, leaning on his table.

  “And what about who I am, you know —”

  “Oh.” He straightened up, the leader of the village taking over as the real Lucian, the young, grinning man who had kissed her, seemed to fade away again. “I don’t think anyone needs to know about you. Right now, anyway. There are some people in the village that would not be open to the idea of you being here, and they have their reasons. Good reasons, but until we figure out what this means for us, for the village I mean, I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “What about Mathias?” she asked.

  “I may tell him the truth, I may not. I have to figure out why he wanted the information so badly first. Either way, he’s going to want your skills to read and write, and I think I can use that if he’s against the idea of you staying here.” Lucian was deep in thought, but the words sent a shiver down her back.

  There is no gray area outside the walls.

  “What happens if he is against the idea of me staying here?”

  His eyes met hers and they were a beautiful gray, somehow warm and serious at the same time. “Let’s not talk about that. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Ridiculously, those words made Emmie feel safe, and she almost wanted to slap herself. Wasn’t this the same man who had just whipped her with a switch and fucked her while he held her down? Wasn’t this the same man who had knocked her out of a tree and chased her through the woods?

  Isn’t he the same one who saved you from the boar? Who helped to build this sanctuary for all those exiled by your father? Who kept the others away from you over the last few days?

  “The feast should start in a couple of hours, make sure you get to eat. You’re looking a little thin.” His words were stilted, uncomfortable, but she took it as an invitation to leave.

  “Sure. I will.” Emmie grabbed the photo from the bed and folded it again to slip it into her back pocket. Then she moved towards the door. “Um, thank you, for – for keeping my secret. At least for a little longer.”

  Lucian lifted his eyes to her, still sitting heavy in his chair, his elbows braced on his knees again, which only served to remind her of how she’d earned her way free of the rope. She swallowed, hesitating beside the door. “I won’t chase you, go on.”

  Emmie nodded and then tugged the door free of the frame, stepping out into the sunlight before she pulled it shut so that it wedged against the structure again. A deep breath of fresh air filled her lungs, and she forced one foot in front of the other, farther and farther away from Lucian.

  A tiny voice inside her urged her to go back, but she shoved it away.

  That was insane. No matter what she’d learned about him, Lucian wasn’t safe to be around. In fact, after whatever command he had issued, he was the most dangerous person she could possibly be near in the village.

  So, why do you want to go back so badly? And why are you thinking of that kiss?

  “Shut up,” she hissed to herself and stomped off towards the crowd near the village center, her fingers tracing her swollen lips.

  She just needed space.

  Space, and some time to think, and food.

  Chapter Eight

  Emmie had another fitful night of sleep, tossing and turning inside a hall of mirrors that reflected her back in a hundred different ways. In some of them, she was alone in the darkness, naked, fearful, and crying. In others, she could see Gabrielle behind her, stoic and sad, but when she turned there was nothing. She tried to run from the reflections, but the hall was endless. Then she stumbled and fell before a large mirror, bruising her knees. When she raised her eyes to her reflection, Lucian was standing behind her. She reared her arm back to punch the glass, to shatter the taunting images once and for all, but his firm hand caught her arm before she could strike – and she awoke.

  Her heart was racing, pounding at her ribs like a captive bird trying to escape, and the quiet darkness around her did little to calm her mind. Being awake was no less confusing than her dream had been; it just had t
he infuriating consequence of being real.

  She sat up, mostly immune to the dull ache of her joints from sleeping on the hard earth, and moved quietly to the doorway. Shifting the cover aside, she peeked out and Ben turned to look over at her. “Don’t even think about it, little bird. No flying away. I am not in the mood to chase you.”

  “I’m not planning on running, I just —” She sighed and sat down on the inside of the stable, holding the animal skin aside so she could see him.

  “What?” Ben stared at her, doubt shadowing his expression.

  “I just wanted to sit outside. Listen to the morning.” Emmie tilted her head up, looking up through the trees as the deep gray of early dawn started to blot out all but the brightest stars.

  “Fine, come out and take a seat, but if you run I swear —”

  “I won’t!” Emmie slipped out and leaned against the outside of the shelter. It was somehow easier to breathe even though there was little difference between being inside the stable and out, but she still took a long breath of the fresh air and let it out slowly. The soft trills of bird song were beginning to move through the trees, the morning creeping on slowly in no hurry to rush the day. “Thank you.” She smiled over at him.

  “You can thank me by behaving. My shift is almost over and I’m tired.” Ben shifted and rubbed his hands together.

  “You seem to be on guard here pretty often,” Emmie spoke softly, but he just gave her a long look.

  “I thought you wanted to listen to the morning.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled and turned her eyes back to the forest around them. Nature usually brought her so much peace. Just staring at the sky used to create a quiet space inside her that she could curl up inside and keep out her thoughts. When she looked up at the sky, the first colors starting to paint the clouds as sunrise rolled on, there was no peace, there was just one name.

  Lucian.

  Who was he, and why was she finding it so difficult to hate him? How could he be a hero one moment and a villain the next? How could he treat her so badly one minute, and then reassure her and tell her she wasn’t terrible for running?

  The bastard was invading her waking thoughts as well as her dreams.

  “I have a mate.” Ben’s gruff voice cut off her internal debate, and she turned towards him to find him staring in the opposite direction. His long, reddish brown hair was bunched at his shoulders as he shrugged. “It’s why I’m here a lot. Have to have a mate to guard the stable, and I do, and then there’s this.” He reached down and pulled the leg of his pants up over the top of his boots. A nasty scar puckered the skin in a line that dipped down into his shoe and seemed to reach up towards his knee as well.

  “What happened?” Emmie asked, and he glanced over at her.

  “Remember what I told you about fresh water and cougars?” He raised his eyebrows, and released the leg of his pants. “I wasn’t kidding.”

  “A cougar did that?” She knew she was gawking, her mouth open as she stared at the place on his pants where she knew the scar to be. “How did you survive?”

  “A lucky kick to its face with my other leg, and then Victor heard me screaming and he scared it off.” Ben dropped his head back. “It means I’m not as quick as I used to be, and so being in a hunting party isn’t exactly an option – but I’m still plenty fast enough to catch runaways.” He looked over at her. “So no ideas.”

  “Really think you could catch me?” Emmie couldn’t fight the tug of a grin at her lips, and she saw Ben struggling not to smile.

  “Let’s not find out. Lucian’s my friend, and I’d like to keep him that way.”

  And we’re back to Lucian.

  Emmie groaned and turned away from him for a moment, but then a memory nudged her. “Wait, when I first got here you told Lucian that you wanted to feast on me! That you wanted to teach me the rules… and you have a mate? I thought you couldn’t —”

  Ben’s low laugh rumbled in his chest, and Emmie felt her cheeks turning as pink as the sky. “Listen, you’re pretty, and you’re young. That makes you quite a catch for the village. I never said I wanted to feast on you, I’m quite happy with my Justine, but while I won’t use you – it doesn’t mean you’re not a feast for the free men here.”

  She wanted to scream at him, or throw something at him, but she was so furious at his casual comments that all she could manage was crossing her arms and cursing to herself.

  “Not like it matters,” Ben muttered, and she glared at him.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing, little bird, absolutely nothing.” He laughed as he shook his head. “Just listen to the morning, and remember that if you do decide to do anything stupid, I can absolutely punish you.” His eyes found hers, “And that’s my favorite perk to guarding the stable.”

  “Actually, I think I’ll go back inside.” Emmie was disgusted. By his flippant threats, and by his clear excitement at the idea of getting to punish her.

  Like when Lucian spanked me, whipped me.

  The thought sent a hot flush up her front and Ben laughed quietly. “Sure, go back in, little bird.”

  “Don’t worry, I am.” She rolled her eyes and tugged aside the makeshift door, halfway inside before he spoke up again.

  “Hey, one thing… have you figured out what you can do here? I know it’s been a week, and Evan told me you were trying baskets with Lucie.”

  “No. I was terrible at baskets.”

  “Ah, well, you’ll find something. Everyone always does.” Ben gave her an encouraging smile, and she chastised herself for smiling back. He had just told her how happy he’d be if he got to punish her, and there she was smiling.

  Despite the belief of the raiders, being raised in high society had its drawbacks as well. Involuntary politeness. At least inside, she could listen to Clara breathe in her sleep, in peace and quiet.

  “Alice!” Emmie waved at the girl from near one of the morning fires. The watery version of oatmeal that the raider cooks made was tasteless, but still felt good sitting warm in her belly. Alice was blushing as she brought her own bowl over.

  “Hey, Emmie.”

  “Where were you the last two nights? I saw you with the sewing ladies yesterday, but you never came back to the stable. I didn’t even see you at dinner.”

  “Ah, I was with… Quentin.” It seemed like she had to force his name out, but instead of showing displeasure her lips spread into a small smile.

  “And?” Emmie asked, but Alice fiddled with the shallow spoon in her bowl instead of meeting her eyes. “Alice?” she prodded again.

  “I don’t know what’s happening, and I’m not going to assume anything, but —”

  “You’re happy.” Emmie could see it written all over the girl’s face. She had color in her cheeks, and as she looked over her shoulder, there was a secretive joy on her face.

  “He’s nice.” Alice smiled, and just as she spoke, a man called her name from across the village center. He had wild, blond hair, almost brushing his shoulders. Even from far away he looked attractive, and Emmie just raised her eyebrows as Alice blushed brightly. “I should go back, you know, have breakfast with him.”

  “I think that’s traditional.” Emmie grinned and Alice’s cheeks darkened.

  “Yeah, I think it is. We’ll catch up, I promise. I want to hear what’s going on between you and Lucian.” Alice glanced to their left and squeezed Emmie’s hand before she wandered back over to Quentin.

  Emmie followed Alice’s gaze and saw Lucian with a long stick in his hand, surrounded by three young kids. The kids each had a stick too, and she moved closer so she could hear him.

  “ – follow through, because if you don’t, you may not even pierce the skin.” Lucian mimed another thrust with the stick in front of him, and the kids mimicked him. He grinned and stepped behind the girl, his voice kind. “Here, hold it like this. That’s right, now when you thrust, it’s harder to have it ripped from your hand. But what do we do if we can’t pull the spear
easily?”

  “Let it go!” the three young ones answered almost in unison.

  “That’s why we hunt in groups!” one of the boys piped up, excitement in his voice.

  “That’s right! We hunt in a group so that if one of our spears gets stuck, we can just fall back.” Lucian smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair before lifting his fake spear once more. “And how hard do we strike?”

  “As hard as we can!” the three echoed in unison again and he cheered at them.

  “Good, now let’s practice.” He faced away from her, his strong body thrusting the thin branch into empty air, and the kids repeated it. Lucian watched the young ones carefully, correcting finger placement, and then having them repeat. His patience was infinite as they asked questions, and he answered, mimicking different styles of spear thrusts until the kids were laughing with each other.

  “Like this!” one of the boys shouted and thrust his stick towards Lucian’s side. He side-stepped easily, but let out a cry of pain as if the boy had hit him.

  “Oh no! I’ve been struck!” Lucian cried out, collapsing to one knee and holding his side tightly. Giggles erupted from the other boy and girl as they moved in, thrusting their false spears towards him as well. “Ah! Oh! The pain!”

  Lucian fell to the ground, groaning loudly, and then he reached out dramatically for a passing man as the children cheered and stabbed their spears into the earth by him.

  “Nicholas! Help me, I’m dying!”

  The man laughed, holding his hands up. “Oh no, you’re on your own with those vicious hunters. I’m no match for skills like that!”

  “So much for having my back!” Lucian laughed and then rolled over, gasping and choking dramatically as the kids collapsed into giggles around him. He stilled, and from her distance, Emmie couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. One of the boys crawled forward, leaning over him, but then Lucian roared and jumped up and the kids scattered. Instantly, he was up and chasing them down the main path of the village and their excited screams echoed back until most of the adults around her were smiling and laughing too. Emmie realized she was smiling too, but she wiped her face blank before someone noticed her staring.