Taken by the Enemy

by Jennifer Bene

  So he’s good with kids, who cares?

  You do, her mind answered unbidden, and she scowled.

  Don’t be stupid.

  Her mind was blissful silence for a moment, until she turned and saw him dancing away from the trio of children, no older than four or five, his voice carrying easily on the wind as he laughed. Carefree and bright.

  Hero or villain, Lucian, which are you?

  Looking down at her half-empty bowl Emmie couldn’t stomach the idea of more food. She needed to talk. About the village, about what she had learned the day before – and about Lucian. And the only person she could have that conversation with was Alice. Lifting her eyes, she scanned the area the girl had walked to a moment before, and she caught sight of her just as she and Quentin disappeared down another path. Emmie rushed to catch up, abandoning her bowl on the prep table as she dashed to the spot she last saw them, but they were gone.

  Dammit.

  Emmie was about to turn around when Alice’s giggle rose up ahead and she hurried to follow before she lost them again, listening for the girl’s quiet, sweet voice amidst the rabble of others talking and moving. It became easier to hear them as they walked further from the village center.

  “Go in here.” A male’s voice rose up, intense and strong.

  Emmie peeked around the shelter she stood by just in time to see them duck down to move into a small home nearby. She jerked herself back, worried she’d been seen, but then she heard a soft yelp and found her feet carrying her closer.

  “Please…” Alice’s sweet voice was a whimper.

  “Off with it,” Quentin commanded and Emmie leaned against a tree next to the structure, unsure if Alice would want her to interrupt or not. Tension made her muscles shiver as she debated, and then there was a soft gasp from the interior and the sharp smack of a hand striking skin. “What are you supposed to do when I tell you something?”

  “Obey.”

  “And did you?” he asked, and Emmie heard Alice’s whimper. “That’s right, so you’ll hold position for your punishment.”

  The next smack was louder, and Emmie looked around to see if anyone else had heard it, but the paths near her were empty. The small house they were in had gaps in the wood forming it, and the animal skins on the outside that served as windbreaks weren’t a solid layer. “Quentin!” Alice cried as the man’s sharp spanks continued.

  Emmie shifted forward, concerned for her friend, remembering the spike of pain that came from each strike of a palm. The way the skin warmed and grew more sensitive until each new smack was worse than the last. Her mouth opened to interrupt them, but as she leaned forward, she caught sight of them through a gap in the shelter. Alice’s ass was bare and bright pink as she lay over Quentin’s lap. He had an arm around her waist, tightly holding her in place while she squirmed. “What did I tell you?” he asked.

  “That I had to listen to you!” Alice whimpered, burying her face in her arms atop the pile of furs and skins. She swallowed a cry as his hand landed again, and again, and Emmie couldn’t tear her eyes away. The outline of Quentin’s hand was clear for a moment against the bright red of the girl’s skin, fading to pink, and then it faded completely into the fiery heat of her ass.

  “And did you?” he asked, bringing his hand down again, only this time Alice moaned quietly because his hand dipped between her thighs.

  “No.” The word came out on another moan, followed by a gasp as the girl lifted her ass, spreading her thighs to allow his fingers easier access.

  “That’s right.” Quentin removed his fingers and delivered another series of sharp, punishing spanks, but Alice didn’t cry out – she moaned. “You said you wanted to be a good girl, didn’t you?” His voice was sinful, and Emmie felt the heat flushing up her chest as she watched him begin to pleasure her again.

  “Yes, yes…” Alice was nodding against her arms, her hips shifting back and forth, her breath growing shorter, and Emmie couldn’t escape the physical memory of Lucian’s hand between her thighs. Wickedly tempting her with pleasure that made her an active participant in his plans for her – and Alice seemed to be caught in the same web with Quentin.

  “Are you going to be slow to take off your clothes next time? Are you going to play shy when I know each and every inch of you?”

  “No, no, Quentin, I promise —” Alice sounded like she was begging, but then he cut her short by flipping her to her back on the floor. He grabbed the insides of her thighs, spreading her wide, and Emmie’s eyes widened when he lowered his head between her legs, bracing his shoulders under her thighs. “Fuck!” Alice cursed, gasping loudly, and Quentin laughed between her legs.

  “Say my name again, sweetheart.” He had lifted his head for a moment, but he quickly returned to tasting her and she shuddered and moaned under him.

  “Quentin.” Alice arched her back, her hands knotted in the tattered remnants of her braid, and then she let out a yelp of pain, and then another, followed by a low groan. Emmie couldn’t quite see what he was doing, until he lifted his head enough for her to see the imprints of bite marks on Alice’s inner thighs, near other pale bruises.

  He bit her?

  Quentin repeated it, and Alice squirmed and yelped, but then – She’s moaning? She likes this?

  Emmie felt her blush darken, scalding her cheeks as she watched them. Alice’s moans and squeaks, accompanied by Quentin’s low groans between her thighs. Then she gasped and moaned loudly, shivering, and Emmie recognized the sudden languor in the girl’s body.

  She’d come even with him hurting her?

  Quentin climbed on top of her, his knees firmly planted inside Alice’s to keep her legs open to him, but she wasn’t struggling at all – she was reaching for him. They kissed, both of their moans lost in each other’s lips.

  “Say my name again, Alice.”

  “Quentin.”

  He growled, kissing her again before grabbing her wrists to pin them over her head. “I love the way it sounds in your mouth.” He pressed his hips between her thighs as he looked down at her. “I need you, but I can be gentle if you —”

  “No!” Alice’s sharp answer made Quentin freeze, but then her voice grew meek again. “I want – I want you to…”

  “Tell me.” He released her wrists to grab her chin so she had to look at him.

  “I want you to take me… like before.”

  Quentin growled low, and Emmie felt a shiver rush over her skin at the sound of it. With a single movement, he reached forward and jerked Alice up by her hair. Emmie pulled back from the shelter, her heart racing in her chest as she heard the quiet sounds of a struggle inside. High above the sky was gray with clouds and it reminded her of Lucian’s eyes.

  Heather gray and tumultuous. He was as fickle as the clouds themselves. Able to be peaceful one moment, and a violent storm the next.

  A low, feminine moan rose up from inside the shelter and although guilt tugged at her Emmie couldn’t resist leaning forward to look. As soon as she saw Alice on all fours, her head drawn back by Quentin’s fist in her hair as he thrust hard – she couldn’t look away. He was brutal, each punishing thrust hard enough to push Alice forward and make her whimper as the grip on her unraveling braid tugged her back.

  But she was moaning, mumbling yes and Quentin between harried breaths, and the heat that burned Emmie’s cheeks suddenly moved much lower.

  “This is where you belong…” Quentin growled, and Alice moaned quietly in response. Emmie felt her own breaths increasing, and she wished she could slip her hand between her thighs to reach the wetness she knew was waiting for her.

  “Quentin!” Alice cried, and it was clear the girl had found a second orgasm, but Emmie wasn’t going to find completion spying on the two of them. She forced herself to step back, moving around the tree to sit down on the other side, feverishly hoping that the cool air would drain the pounding heat from her skin.

  From the other side of the tree she heard Quentin’s stifled shout and Alice’s soft moa
ns, and she envied their completion. She was tense with frustration, her skin dotted with sweat as she sat against the tree and let shame wash over her.

  Why had she done that? Why had she stayed?

  Emmie dropped her face into her hands, scrubbing at her skin as if she could wipe away the vivid images playing in her head. The pale imprint of a hand on bright red skin, the sight of Alice arching off the ground as Quentin devoured her.

  Pain. Pleasure. Pain. Pleasure.

  Alice had seemed to take them both with equal enjoyment, but that didn’t make sense. Couldn’t make sense.

  You were wet for Lucian, her mind – ever helpful – reminded her.

  “Ridiculous,” Emmie mumbled under her breath and pushed away from the tree, walking blindly in the direction of the village center. She was too hot, her skin itchy with arousal, and for the first time since she’d fallen into the path of the raiders she wanted a moment alone to touch herself. It was tempting to walk back to the stable, to see if it was empty, but then she heard a rough voice.

  “Girl!” Mathias stomped towards her, and Emmie realized she was almost back at the main path. “Where the hell have you been? I was sure you’d decided to run off.”

  “Good morning, Mathias,” Emmie grumbled and he sneered at her.

  “Remember what happened the last time you had an attitude with me?” He reached for her arm but she jerked back out of his reach.

  “I do remember.”

  “Well then, little bird, I would think you’d show more restraint.”

  “It goes to show how well you know me.” She crossed her arms, keeping space between them. “Why exactly are you looking for me anyway? I haven’t done anything —”

  “Shut up and come with me.” He turned around with a huff, and she stood staring after him with her mouth open. Mathias paused about ten paces away and checked over his shoulder for her. He raised his voice, commanding and loud. “Girl! Now!”

  “Tell me why!” Emmie shouted and he laughed low as he stomped back towards her. The daylight revealing a shiny scar down his neck that disappeared under his shirt, and the momentary distraction was all he needed to get his vice-like grip around her upper arm.

  “You need to learn not to give orders. It’s just going to get you in trouble,” Mathias growled as he dragged her with him, back towards the area of the village with his and Lucian’s homes. She tried to yank her arm from him a few times, but quickly realized the futility of it and sullenly followed him like a toddler in trouble. Despite his age, he was deceptively strong, and Emmie had to wonder what kind of man he was to survive out here before the village existed. He was the kind of man who would kill her without flinching. Emmie knew it in her heart.

  Yet, he’s also the kind of man who rescued a seventeen-year-old Lucian from certain death.

  Emmie rolled her eyes as Mathias yanked open the door of his house and shoved her inside. Was there anyone here who wasn’t a conundrum? A complete walking contradiction?

  “Sit.” Mathias snapped his fingers and pointed at the chair she had taken before, but she just crossed her arms. “Do I need to tie you to the chair, girl?”

  “Would you just talk to me like a person?” Emmie stomped, throwing her hands out. “You obviously want something from me, and if you expect to get it, showing me the tiniest amount of civility would go a long way!”

  Mathias moved in front of her, towering over her and she felt the righteous indignation that had flooded her a moment before slowly bleed out under his glare. “Nothing is free, girl. You are under our protection. You are eating our food. Drinking the water we bring in. You will do as I say because you need to earn what you’ve already taken.”

  “I didn’t ask to be here.”

  “You’re in our forest, so here is the only option. There is no alternative.”

  “No alternative?” Emmie mocked.

  “There’s always death.” Mathias grabbed her shoulder and pushed her backwards until she fell into the chair. “Just tell me if you’d like that option. Lucian wouldn’t tell me who you were in the city, but I know him and whoever you are, it’s probably more trouble than I’m willing to deal with.”

  His threat found a place in her chest like a sharp rock, because it was true. She was more trouble than he’d want to deal with. Emeline Anne Daniau was a whole mess of trouble, and if her father, or Bastien himself, decided to look for her – they were all at risk.

  Not just Mathias and Lucian, but Alice too. Lucie, and Evan, and their unborn child. Ben and his mate. The innocent kids she’d seen that morning.

  He settled in the seat across from her, and that was when she noticed the box with the dip pen and ink was already open. “Whoever you really are, you can read and write, and better than I am able from what I can tell, which means you’re about a hundred times better than anyone else in this village.”

  “So?” she asked, but even her voice reflected the turmoil inside and Emmie flinched at the way it cracked.

  “So, that’s how you’re going to earn your keep here. This is going to be your job.” He swept a hand across the table, gesturing to the whole mess of papers.

  “I’m going to read and write for you.” Emmie said it quietly, because it seemed too easy. Too simple.

  “Yes. You’re going to be silent, and you’re going to take down letters, and you’re going to read through the things we’ve received to see if I missed anything.” He reached for a stack of papers under a rock, holding it in his hand as he pointed at her. “And you will absolutely not speak of anything in this room, to anyone, or I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

  Emmie swallowed, feeling the invisible bindings of the village wrap themselves just a little tighter around her. Mathias was serious. He would do whatever it took to keep his people safe, and his people clearly did not include her. “Understood.”

  “Good. Start with these.”

  Chapter Nine

  Emmie had been reading and taking down letters for three days, and as she walked towards Mathias’ house, she knew two things for sure – Lucian had been avoiding her, and the exiles were not planning on being exiled for long.

  They were trying to get back into the city, and they had people on the inside helping them.

  There were hundreds of letters. Describing new recruits to their cause inside the city walls, both citizens and guards, and others asking about the well-being of various exiles. Some letters referenced maps and sketches of buildings, but Mathias kept those rolled up and out of the way. She had only written a single letter for Mathias, and he had yelled at her when she’d asked how he planned to get it into the city. As much as he was an asshole, Emmie was sure that Mathias and Lucian had been planning for years, and now she was in the middle of it.

  In the middle of a fucking rebellion to overthrow her own family.

  Perfect.

  “Mathias,” she called out as she slapped her hand on the wood that formed the crude door to his house.

  “Just get in here.”

  She sighed and shoved it open, forcing it back into the frame so it stuck, and then she moved back to her seat. Well, it was hers unless Lucian showed up. If he arrived, she would be told to sit on the floor against the wall so the men could talk.

  “Did Lucian speak with you?” Mathias looked up at her as she sat down.

  “No.”

  “Damn him, that stupid boy—” he cut himself off and started muttering. “Have any of the men come to… visit you?”

  Visit. She almost laughed at his careful language when he was normally so crass.

  “You mean have any of them come to fuck me?” Emmie lifted an eyebrow as he mumbled and shook his head at her. “If that’s what you’re asking, then no. Ben and Evan talk to me sometimes if I end up by myself in the stable, even Theo will say a few words sometimes, but otherwise I only have you in my life, Mathias.” She smiled sarcastically and he scowled.

  “Just tell me what this letter says.” He held it out and she took it gingerly,
angling it to catch the light, but the script was tiny, cramped. It took her a minute or so to read it – a long missive about the state of the eastern wall guard being changed, explaining that it was too mixed now for any guarantees.

  Emmie started to read it aloud to him from the beginning, and Mathias had an intent look of focus on his face, a deep furrow appearing between his brows as he listened. She stopped reading before the last paragraph and he looked over at her.

  “Does it just cut off?”

  “Don’t you know what this says already?” She tilted her hand with the letter in it, watching him carefully.

  “Of course I do!” Mathias grumbled and stood up.

  “Then you know already.” She shrugged.

  “Shut up, girl. Is the letter done or not? I don’t want to play silly games.” He moved over to a pile of things in one corner, digging through them as she looked over the last part of the letter.

  Nothing particularly important.

  “That’s it.” Emmie set the letter back on the table and crossed her arms, ready for a standoff as he stood back up to glare across the small space at her.

  “It just ended.”

  “Yes.” She gestured at it. “See for yourself.”

  Mathias muttered as he stomped back to the table to drop heavily into his chair, reaching across to tear the letter off the table. He stared at it for a moment, and then he began to angle it with both hands to catch the light, moving the paper forward and back in front of his eyes. Finally, he slammed the letter down on the table. “I told you not to play games with me, girl!”

  He can’t see well enough to read the letter.

  She smiled at the realization and spoke sweetly, “Who’s playing games?”

  Mathias stood and kicked his chair back. “What did the damn letter say?”

  “You tell me!” Emmie shouted back at him as she stood up on her side of the table, sick and tired of listening to him lose his temper again and again.