by Linda Mooney
Sliding across the cold stone, she dragged the tray with her until she met the end of her chain. But it was enough to where she could reach over to roll the creature onto his back. Taking care not to injure his shoulder any more than she needed to, Tora started to draw him toward her when the beast reached up to brush her hand away. He followed the action with a growl. Another burst of fear streaked through her at the sight of the huge hand with its five fingers and wicked-looking claws. The hand was caked in dried blood, and she didn’t need to be told the blood was not his.
“No, Tora.”
Her mouth gaped open as she tried to speak. It took another moment for her to regain her voice. â��I don’t have any water, but there’s soup. Drink some of the soup. It will help your thirst.”
“No, Tora,â�� the beast gasped again. It was then she realized the creature was trying to keep its face averted from her, to keep his features hidden. Once she understood his actions, she was stunned. Tora pressed her lips together.
“You need to drink something or else you’ll never get well.”
Her comment earned her another short growl. â��Get well? Do you know who, I mean what I am?”
“Yes. You’re a Lupan. Aren’t you?”
“If you know that,â�� he gasped, â��then why aren’t you in mortal fear for your life instead of trying to save mine?â�� He coughed. â��I’m fading between my humanity and bestial side. Stay away from me, or I will hurt you without conscious thought.”
“I can’t, and I won’t. You’re not a mindless beast. You’re a reasoning being,â�� Tora argued. â��I thought Lupans were more like monsters. No one ever told me beasts like you could talk. Have your kind always been able to talk?”
“Always.”
“If I offer to help you, will you promise not to hurt me?”
“I told youâ��”
“Oh…just shut up and drink some of this soup. It’ll help you regain your strength.â�� She tried again to turn the beast over, but he continued to resist.
“No. Let me…help me…â�� He struggled to turn onto his stomach. Realizing what he intended to do, Tora aided him in propping himself up on his good arm and elbow. From this angle she could finally see she had been right. The creature had a snout and a muzzle. Silently she slipped the bowl directly underneath him, and held onto his good shoulder as he lapped the soup.
He drank half of it before laying back on the stone with a gasp of exhaustion. â��I needed that. Thank you.”
“I have some bread and meat,â�� she informed him.
“I need to rest.”
“Very well.â�� Moving back to her side of the cell, Tora finished the rest of the soup as well as the remaining rations. When she was done she resumed her vigil, watching him as his breathing gradually slowed. Outside the tiny window, somewhere in the far distance, she could hear a cry much like the man-creature’s howl.
She was also on the verge of nodding off when the creature’s deep voice broke the silence. â��Tora?”
“What?”
“My name is Croat.”
Croat. Lupans had names? Opening her mouth to say more, Tora realized the beast had succumbed to sleep.
And then it struck her. Croat. In the old tongue of her people, the word meant â��prince”.
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Chapter 4
Bond
It was shortly after sundown when Croat awoke. When he did, he tried to move on his own, but his body was still too damaged to attempt even the smallest movement.
Prior to his waking, Tora had gone back over to get a better look at those places on his body where the skin had been torn or punctured to see if he was still bleeding. Fortunately they were all scabbing over, which gave her a small sense of relief.
After ripping lengths of material from her underskirt, she had tried to bind his useless arm to his side, to protect and aid the healing of the bones in his arm, shoulder, and ribs. Croat moaned once in his sleep, but didn’t awaken. She would have given anything to have some water so she could wash the grime away. The man didn’t need to be lying in filth.
As Tora tenderly wrapped the material around him, she was able to examine him more closely. His skin was dark, almost a charcoal gray color. The muscles on his arms and chest were rock hard. Ebony nipples like flat stones marred the perfect symmetry. There was not an inch of flabbiness anywhere on him.
Her eyes glanced down at where his member lay across his inner thigh. It was long and limp. His testicles bulged from underneath it. The creature was undoubtedly more human than animal. And definitely male, in spite of the rest of his features.
What kind of person are you, Croat? Does it prove that you are more man than beast?
Because the same could not be said for his face. That part of him was wholly bestial. At her first complete look at it, Tora had felt a scream build up inside her. Fortunately she had managed to swallow it, keeping it silent and contained.
There was nothing about the man-beast’s face that could be called humanistic. From the creature’s crown to his swept-back ears, from the pores in his nose at the end of his muzzle, to the enormous, pointed teeth jutting out from under his lips and gumsâ��if a person was to see only the head, they would never guess there was a man’s body attached to it.
When she was done, Tora grabbed some of the dirty straw and placed it underneath him. At the least, the stuff would keep him from having direct contact with the frozen rocks in the uneven floor. The last thing Croat needed was to have his skin adhere to them. When she was done, she retreated to her side of the room.
Croat.
It was easier to think of him as a man instead of a beast. Having spoken to him, and having him answer back had done much to change her perspective. Even as his empathic connection to her continued to astound her.
She sensed his slow ascent into consciousness before he grew aware of his surroundings. His despondent sigh touched her.
“Yes. You’re still here in this cell. It wasn’t a dream,â�� she told him, answering his unspoken question.
“As are you. Tora, right?”
“Yes.”
He shifted. The room was rapidly getting darker and colder.
“Thank you for binding my arm. It helps.”
“You’re welcome. You’re…more human right now, aren’t you?”
He chose to ignore her question. â��Why do you stay over there?â�� Or maybe he hadn’t ignored it. His question made sense. He knew she had seen the whole of him. There was no way she couldn’t have when she was wrapping him up.
“I will not harm you,â�� he whispered. â��Not right now, anyway. The soup helped me keep a grasp on my humanity.”
Tora could sense the tightness in his throat. The caved-in feeling. The dryness. He desperately needed something more to drink, but there was nothing she could offer him. Nothing she could do to ease his pain or discomfort. At least, nothing other than what she had already done.
Nothing short of bleeding herself.
Slowly, she crawled on hands and knees over to him, dragging her length of chain along with her. Parking herself against his back, she let him brace himself along her hip and thigh. It would take some of the pressure off of his injured left side.
“You’re a Sensitive,â�� he suddenly stated flatly.
In that instant his entire demeanor changed. He now knew the whole truth and he was challenging her to deny it. She could feel the beginning tendrils of fear and loathing uncurling inside him.
Tora bit her lips. Too many times she had seen a Sensitive trapped into a confession by such a statement. Silence sometimes worked better than denial.
“You can’t hide it from me, Tora,â�� Croat whispered. â��You gave yourself away when you bandaged my bad arm and side. It was more telling when you never asked me how I was. But when you sat beside me…”
“Think what you will,â�� she finally replied. Still e
vasive. Still cautious. Forever cautious.
Croat sniffed. He sighed, as if in defeat. His tone of voice shifted. â��You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. Don’t you think I already know the penalty for being…different?”
With a start, Tora immediately understood what he meant. Even so, it was extremely hard for her to confess, although she already knew she could trust him. How much and how long she could accept him into her confidence remained to be seen. She had never bonded with another the way she was bonding with him, and he was not fully human. But in the meantime, there was a strange sense of comradery forming between them. She couldn’t explain it, nor could she have anticipated it.
Yet, if truth be told, she hated being alone. Although Croat was actual proof that the Lupan monsters of legend actually existed, she was quickly learning he was more human than beast. He was intelligent, and he had emotions. If either of them managed to survive, it would take both of them struggling together, working together, to get there.
“I…I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything more to drink,â�� she confessed, knowing that this little revelation would suffice as an admission. Since he hadn’t asked for anything, he would know she had sensed his thirst.
He moved his legs slightly, and groaned. â��I’ll be all right if they leave me alone. How often are you fed?”
“Once a day, about midday, although I have no way of telling time down here. This last time they only brought one tray. It’s not much. Always a bowl of soup, some bread, and a little meat. I guess we’re supposed to share.”
Croat chuckled softly, but not with amusement. â��Go ahead and have all of the food, Tora. The tray is not meant for me.”
“Then what are you supposed to eat? Please tell me they didn’t put you down here to die. If that’s what they intended, why did they beat you to the edge of death then let up?â�� She realized she had been stroking his fur along his back. The sense of soothing she felt in return was warm. He was relishing her touch and her comforting. She continued petting him as she put a voice to her thoughts.
“Maybe they do want you to die. Maybe they want you to die in a horrible manner. Maybe…oh, gods, Croat. What if those men plan to come back when you’re better and beat you again?”
His right hand reached up. Huge claws snagged the sleeve of her blouse when his fingers closed over it. â��Would it bother you if they did? No. Don’t answer that. Yes, it would bother you. That is…that is if the stories I’ve heard about Sensitives are true.”
Tora snorted softly. â��It would appear that we’ve both been fed a pack of untruths since we were young. What stories were you told about Sensitives?”
“If I tell you, will you let me know which ones are true, and which are false?”
“Only if you allow me to do the same about Lupans.”
“Lupan. We’re Lupan. Singular and plural. Fair enough.â�� His head made a slight movement. She could hear him try to swallow, and fail.
“Hold on,â�� she said, and moved away on her hands and knees. Immediately she could tell he detested her leaving. Strangely, she had the same reaction.
Quickly, Tora fetched the small wooden bowl where she was hoarding the last small bit of soup. Taking it back to him, she started to turn his face toward her when Croat shook off her hand.
“No, Tora.”
“Shh. I already know what you look like. It’s all right. Look, I have some soup left that I was saving. It’s just a swallow’s worth, and cold, but at least it’s wet.”
“Let me lap it up like the last time.”
She paused. â��Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather I poured it down your throat?”
He took a moment to think about it. She could almost read his thoughts. She knew it had taken a lot out of him that last time to hold himself over the bowl to drink. Plus, despite what he had taken earlier, he was weaker now. Reluctantly, he agreed to let her minister to him, as she knew he would.
Gently, Tora turned him toward her, lifting his muzzle until she could look full into his face. Her breath caught in her throat when they finally gazed at each other.
“You have orange eyes!”
“Not always,â�� he admitted, and opened his mouth, revealing sharp canines. Tora slowly poured the precious liquid over his tongue then watched him hold the soup for a moment before swallowing it. Croat closed his eyes as his parched throat bathed in the slight moisture. Tora took the opportunity to return the bowl to the tray that sat near the door.
“Why aren’t you frightened of me?”
Crawling back to him, Tora resumed her place propped behind his back, allowing him to rest along her thigh. She sensed how he welcomed the return of her warmth as much as she did his. â��Because I touched you that night the baron’s men dragged you in here.”
“Why didn’t the sight of me stop you?”
“I didn’t see what you really were until after I’d touched you. But I still had nightmares about you. About your kind.â�� She crossed her legs and pulled what was left of her torn skirt over her feet. â��Are you the last one? The last Lupan?”
“No. There are others. Not many, though.â�� Croat opened his eyes and turned his head to look up at her. â��How is it I know I can trust you?â�� It was not a rhetorical question. She understood he had let her in on that very secretive bit of knowledge because he knew she could be trusted. What he didn’t understand yet was why he was so certain he could trust her. â��Is it because of what you are?â�� he asked before she could answer. Tora nodded. â��Because you touched me?â�� he added.
“Touching you did not automatically bind us.”
He blinked, confusion clouding his coppery-colored eyes. Without thinking, Tora reached over and smoothed away the thick, black hair that had fallen over his forehead. His ears twitched in response.
“Sometimes the connection is made. Sometimes not. I have no control over it. I have no way of knowing when I touch someone if the connection will go both ways. At least, it hasn’t yet for me…until now.”
“Until now? You’ve never connected with someone who could sense you in return?”
Tora shook her head. â��It’s happened before to others. Mummy was a Sensitive. She said I would find those who would bind back to me. She said there were other things I would discover about myself, but she never elaborated. Before she was killed, she told me she could already tell I was going to have a stronger ability than most.”
Croat frowned, if the lowered brows meant the same thing as they did on a human face. â��She was killed? For being a Sensitive?”
“Yes.”
“Then how did you manage…”
“I was out in the meadow picking berries when the villagers were attacked. I went home and found her dead. The day before, we knew we had been found out. Mummy had been making plans for us to move again.â�� Tora squeezed her eyes shut as ghosts of her memories made her relive that day. A calloused hand closed over hers. Despite its terrifying appearance, his touch was gentler than she could imagine. Immediately his sorrow for her loss was there, offering itself as a small measure of comfort.
“You ran,â�� he surmised. Tora answered with a quick nod. â��That’s how you ended up here?”
“Not exactly. I have an older brother, Basil. He’s…he’s a bit simple in the head. He’s very much like a child but he can do manual labor. He had wandered away from the fields like he tends to do, so he wasn’t where they expected him to be when the villagers arrived, thank goodness. Mummy and I are very careful about who knows about Basil. He’s so sweet, he wouldn’t hurt anyone, but you know how cruel people can be.”
“How long have you been running?â�� He gave her hand another squeeze. Tora stared at the difference between her hand and his. Human and inhumanâ��the contrast, the disparity. Yet, his compassion was like a warm sun glowing inside her chest.
“Six years. I know there are some people who are not afraid of Sensi
tives. I know how to find them and approach them. More often than not they give me work to do so I can keep food on the table for me and Basil. Recently I’ve been working for Vester Meesom and his wife. She’s expecting a child, and because all her other pregnancies had failed they had asked me if there was some way I could help. Vester came to tell me she was bleeding, so I had gone over to check on Alissta and the baby. We were able to stop the bleeding, and hopefully prevent another miscarriage. But by the time I was ready to go home it was already dark.â�� Tora wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
“It was stupid of me to refuse their offer to spend the night there at their place, but I was concerned for Basil. So, like a fool, I tried to make it home in the dark. The baron’s men caught sight of me and gave chase.â�� She made a half-hearted gesture with her hand. â��And that’s why I’m here.”
“Then the baron doesn’t know what you are?”
“No. At least, I don’t think he does.”
“No, I can almost guarantee he doesn’t,â�� Croat stated. â��If he did, you wouldn’t be here now.”
“Why do you say that?”
Pumpkin eyes bore straight into hers. â��Baron Agrino is known to delve in dark magicks. He cherishes all things considered abhorrent to man and nature. If he knew you were a Sensitive, he would have you put up in his castle to work your arts for him and his close associates. Not here in his dungeon.”
“I don’t understand,â�� she confessed.
“The baron wants me to pledge my allegiance to him. To be part of his army and draw fear from his enemies. He’s hoping he can find more of my kind, and use us as part of his first line of attack. If villagers know we still exist, he knows he can use that fear to conquer more lands, and overrun more villages. He wants to break me so I’ll agree to be part of his plan, so I’ll tell him where there’s more of us. And he’s using you to torture me into joining him.”
