Lila's Wolf (Out of Time Book 1)

by Sofia Grey

  The claws dug in farther. “I would remind you that you’re mine, and your first loyalty is to me. If not for me, you’d have been executed.” Her eyes bored into him. “I can see why you may be tempted by Rowena, but she is the wife of my son. Even I would not be able to protect you from his wrath.”

  He blinked. Not the answer he’d expected. Her grip loosened, she patted the back of his hand and released him. “There is a leftover honey cake on the platter, if you would like it. Go now, Wolf. I will expect you in the morning.”

  He slipped quietly from her room, the sweet smelling honey cake encased safely in his hand, but stopped dead just before tripping over one of the children. The young girl, Kai, was crouched beside the door and sprang to her feet when he appeared. She was no more than twelve years old. It killed him the way they treated the children. It was bad enough for the adult slaves, but to use little ones in the same way…it was a harsh world. “I have a message for you, Wolf.” She rubbed her grimy face with a dusty hand. She looked tired enough to fall asleep where she stood, and Jared felt a wave of protectiveness toward the mite. He nodded for her to continue.

  “You must go down to the stable block, now. A lady waits to see you.”

  His mouth fell open, before he remembered to clamp it shut again. Lila. It had to be Lila. Excitement surged, and he sucked in a joyful breath. “The stable block?” Kai nodded. This was it, his ticket out of here. He couldn’t hold back his grin, probably the first real smile since he’d ended up there, and Kai stared at him, a wary expression on her face. He remembered the honey cake and presented it to her. “Go on. You can have it.”

  Her eyes widened. Slowly, as though expecting it to be lifted away, she extended one grubby finger to stroke the top of the sweetmeat, and then stared at him again. He nodded. It was the least he could do, to repay her for bringing this message. “Thank you, Wolf.” She snatched it, devouring it in seconds before turning to run away down the corridor.

  He knew how to dodge the guards on the doors and which exit to use, and a few minutes later he crept across the dark yard, circling round the moonlit patch to avoid detection. He peered through the open doorway. Horses surrounded him, most of them sleeping, while he picked his way through the stalls, heading for the central area. He’d sat here a few hours earlier, to polish the harness, and re-polish it after it’d been dirtied again. Pausing, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He could make out a figure in the far doorway: petite, long robe, hood. Female.

  His heart pounded against his ribs as though he’d run across the fields, and he wanted to shout and punch the air in delight. This was the moment he’d dreamed of. He took a second to savor the anticipation. He stepped into the shaft of moonlight and paused as she turned to him, the hood rustling over her hair.

  “Lila.” His voice croaked on her name. His chest felt warm and, Jesus, he had tears in his eyes. “You came back for me.” He moved forward another pace and another, and then ran the final steps to halt just inches from her. “Lila,” he breathed, raising a hand to push back her hood. A fraction of a second too late, he realized his mistake.

  “Lila?” Rowena’s voice snapped like a whip. Oh no. Dear God, no. “Tell me, Wolf. Who is Lila, and why would you be meeting her here?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lila

  Marc considered my suggestion and nodded. “It should be easy enough to find out. I’ll ask one of the house slaves.” He stood and stretched, rolling his head from one side to the other as he yawned. “Will you stay here?”

  He had to be joking. “I’ll come with you. We can pretend to be looking for the kitchen.”

  The night was still young, and the house bustled with people: servants and residents, slaves and guards. With my arm tucked through Marc’s, we strolled along as though we had a destination in mind, chatting quietly while we walked through the maze of corridors. I recognised a face. “Marc,” I whispered, “that’s one of the slaves that served us at dinner.”

  The young man wore a coarse, stained tunic and the iron collar that all the slaves were forced into. He ignored us as we approached, intent on his task, stacking wooden platters together to carry in a teetering pile, presumably back to the kitchen. He jumped when Marc spoke to him and trembled when he turned to face us.

  Younger than I expected, barely out of childhood, he was painfully thin. His pale eyes flashed left and right before dropping to stare at the floor. “Master,” he whispered, his voice unsteady, “how may I serve you?”

  Marc drew him into a doorway, out of sight of the guards. “I’m looking for someone and I think he may be a slave here. His name is Jared.”

  The boy shook his head, still averting his eyes. His hands twisted together, fidgeting constantly.

  “He would be older than you, with dark hair and odd colored eyes, one green and one blue.”

  The boy tensed. His hands stilled, and he peeked up at Marc for a second, interest flashing across his face, before bending his head again. “Wolf. He’s called Wolf. He serves the lady Hilde.”

  It felt as though I’d been hit on the head. Jared was a slave. I couldn’t think straight. All this time I’d imagined him free and happy, living a wild life as a rebel. Dear Lord, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’d been there at dinner, and I hadn’t known. My lungs tightened, and I forced myself to take a deep gulp of air. I had to say something. “Thank you,” I blurted, reaching out to touch his arm. “What is your name?” He flinched and stiffened when my fingers brushed across his skin.

  “My name is Connad. Please, master, may I go now?” He scurried away as soon as Marc said yes.

  We made our way outside, walking slowly as I tried to adjust to this new reality. My plans were useless. Yes, he’d abandoned me—sacrificed me—but as for the price he’d paid in return? It made me sick to think of it. We had to take him from here, no question about it. But I’d no longer argue for him to be punished as a common runaway. The usual sentence was ten years in the penal colony, but even at its harshest, it was a holiday compared with life as a slave.

  “I’ll send a message back to the ghardians.” Marc’s composure settled my nerves a fraction. “We need a squadron to come and assist with the retrieval. I’ll find a quiet spot and transmit tonight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jared

  In a split second, Jared considered and discarded several alternatives: restrain and subdue Rowena while he searched for Lila…kill Rowena and search for Lila…pretend ignorance…or tell her the truth. He could do none of those and yet he had to protect Lila somehow.

  He feigned disappointment. “Mistress, I must apologise for my familiarity.” He dropped his eyes and made sure his hands were loose at his sides. Submissive. “Lila is a term of endearment in my native language. I was happy that you wanted to see me again so soon.” Thank God for the low light in the stables. One close look and she’d see the naked terror crawling across his face. It was a miracle his voice didn’t shake more. His palms were so moist and clammy, he expected them to drip.

  She paused, her arms crossed and foot tapping the dusty floor as she made him wait. He’d kick himself for this later, but right now he had to stay calm.

  “On the ground,” she snapped, and he scrambled to obey, his body frozen, tension rippling through every muscle. Kneeling before her, he waited for the next command. The foot on the back of his collar took him by surprise, but he didn’t resist and pressed his face onto the floor. Hayseeds clustered in his nose and eyes, and he concentrated on not sneezing, on holding the position for Rowena.

  “Lick my feet, slave.”

  The pressure on his neck released, and he contemplated again if he could knock her out and keep her hidden while he found Lila and escaped. Even as he thought it, he knew it was futile. Rowena would have her personal guard nearby. Slowly, he lifted his head and extended his neck, his mouth an inch away from her jeweled slipper. One long lick up the center of her foot, almost to the ankle. Her giggle reassured him. This s
ituation could be retrieved.

  “Do it properly. Take off my slipper and try again.”

  O-kay. Using one hand around her ankle and one on the slipper, he wriggled her foot free, and then guided it to his mouth. A moment of distaste. Realisation that he’d done far worse already. He closed his mouth around her big toe. Think about eating grapes, instead. Firm but tender, sweet and succulent on the tongue. He lapped and licked his way along her toes, tickled the underside of her arch, and gave a playful nip to her heel before starting on the other foot.

  Grapes, black skinned and dusty, ripened in the sun, still with the bloom upon the flesh. A ripple of triumph uncurled in his chest when he replaced her feet inside the slippers and resumed the submissive position. Surely that would be enough? She’d be missed if she stayed here too long.

  “Hmm. You are a silver-tongued beast, my dear Wolf.” He felt her hands running through his short hair, petting him like a dog. “But I’m still curious why you thought I was Lila, and why you would be meeting her.” Her fingers tightened, nails scraping his scalp as she pulled his hair, hard. He froze. A solid ball of fear bounced around his stomach, and he concentrated on pushing it down. He almost missed her next words.

  “So let’s pay the Mistress Lila a visit. I, for one, should like to know what she plans to do with my slave.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lila

  A heavy bang at the door jolted me awake, and I scrambled to my feet automatically. Where was Marc? Not back yet. My stomach clenched. I swallowed hard, and I ran a nervous hand across my hair. Had they caught him breaking curfew? I licked my lips as I strode to the door; the confident Lila had to appear.

  I drew back the bolt and pulled open the door to see one of the massive Saxon guards. Before I could speak, he took a step to the side, one hand securely on his sword. Beside him stood Mistress Rowena. Her lips curled up in an approximation of a smile, but her eyes were like chips of ice.

  “Mistress Lila.” Polite, but with a sneering note. “Your name is unusual in these parts. Does it mean anything?”

  I blinked, completely thrown by the random question. Every grain of common sense warned me to tread carefully, and I produced a cool smile of my own.

  “It’s just a name. I’m not aware of any meaning associated with it.”

  “Really.”

  What was I supposed to say? And what had happened to Marc? I was at a loss for how to reply. Rowena nodded to someone in the corridor, and a slave was tossed on the floor in front of me. He hit the ground with a soft grunt, landing on his side, facing me. I couldn’t hold back a gasp of horror, and I clapped a hand over my mouth before any words could tumble out. Jared. My God, Jared, what have they done to you?

  Unbearably thin, his naked torso bore scars and scrapes, with bruises and welts jostling side by side. The hideous slave collar. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. A bright smear of fresh blood oozed along the edge of the metal ring, and there were earlier sores where the rough iron must have chafed. His eyes regarded me steadily, the green and the blue so painfully familiar, even while the short, rough beard and cropped hair changed the appearance of his face. As if from a long distance, I heard Rowena speaking to me and I dragged my attention back to her.

  She poked him in the back of the neck with her toe. “Have you seen this slave before? He claims to know you.”

  Rowena couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see his mouth silently forming the word, no.

  I wanted to drop to my knees and cradle his head in my lap, soothing his pain. Instead I dug deep and managed to sound puzzled. “Me? How could that be?”

  Cocking her head to one side, Rowena regarded me with a quizzical frown. “And you are quite sure about that?”

  “I’ve never seen him before.” I tried to sound puzzled.

  Her brows dipped into a frown, but I kept my gaze steady. I couldn’t allow her to intimidate me. She nodded to the guard. “Cellar,” she snapped, and then as the guard hauled Jared to his feet by yanking on the collar, she smiled. Years of hiding my emotions meant that I didn’t wince at his indrawn breath and hiss of pain, but it was hard. I dug my fingernails into my palm as I struggled to remain impassive.

  Rowena’s voice was silky. “I would speak with your husband while I am here.”

  Shit. “He went down to the kitchens just a few minutes ago. I will tell him you wish to see him, but now, my lady, I wish to return to my bed.”

  Minutes later, I bolted the door again and sank against the wood, one fist stuffed into my mouth. Dear God. Such an evil bitch. My mind bounced from one fear to another: what they would do to Jared? If they caught Marc…if the rescue plan failed?

  Marc returned an hour later, tapping quietly on the door in the signal we’d established. Two swift knocks. Pause. One more. Pause. Then another two. I threw back the bolt and practically fell upon him, needing the comfort of another person. Needing his touch. He gave a short, pleased laugh and pulled me firmly into his arms, while sliding the bolt back into place.

  “It’s okay. They didn’t see me.” He draped one arm around my waist, the other across my shoulders. I felt his fingers stroking my neck and I buried my face against his throat. The intimate embrace felt strangely comfortable and it was a long moment before I realized Marc seemed equally happy with this. He dropped a soft kiss on my hair. “Lila, we need to talk.”

  I snapped back to attention and wriggled free. “He was here.” My voice came out as a whisper. “Rowena brought Jared here. She wanted to know if I knew him.”

  Marc’s eyes widened. He grabbed my hand and led me to sit on the bed with him. “Tell me everything.” I recounted the tale, and he listened carefully, prompting me when I hesitated. He held my hand as I spoke, his thumb brushing gently across my fingers.

  “The way she said cellar,” I couldn’t hold back a shudder. “It sounded like some kind of punishment. How soon can we leave and get him out of here?”

  His hand stilled on mine. “That’s where we may have a problem. I can’t be sure the signal went through. The communicator failed.”

  “So that means…”

  “It means we wait for the scheduled pickup in two weeks’ time.” He hesitated, and my heart plummeted to my feet. “It means we’re on our own.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jared

  Jared had been punished in the cellar often enough to dread the prospect, but right now he didn’t care. Inside, he wanted to leap up and punch the air in delight. He’d not made a mistake. Lila was there, which meant the ghardians would soon be there too. He’d be free again. He clutched the idea tight to his chest. It helped him to ignore the jabs from the guard’s sword and to override the gnawing hunger in his stomach. He only had to endure this for a matter of days.

  He didn’t even flinch when the guard shoved him hard in the back, forcing him to his knees on the hard earth floor. Jared kept his face blank when the dirty chain was attached to his collar and the link hammered into place. The vibrations of the blows juddered through him, rattling his teeth and scraping the bare flesh on his neck, but he knelt quietly. Past experience told him that struggling made it worse.

  The door slammed into place, and Jared blinked, sucking in a deep breath and forcing himself to relax. The darkness was absolute. Even when his eyes adjusted, there would be no little chinks of light to creep in. He tested the length of the chain with his hands, walking his fingers up from his collar to the wall: long enough to stand, if he hunched over. Last time, he’d been forced to kneel for the duration of his punishment.

  The cellar smelled of rotten vegetables and fear, sweat, and other bodily functions overlaid with the coppery tang of blood. The odor crept into his nostrils. How many slaves had been beaten and whipped in the cellar? How many had died here? He shivered and breathed slowly through his mouth in an effort to minimise the stink. Think of Lila.

  He settled into the corner, tucked up his knees, and rested his chin on his hands. Lila hadn’t looked well. Her skin had been too pal
e, and she’d had shadows under her eyes as though she hadn’t slept in days. He’d swear she was thinner, too. His mind darted back to those precious seconds when he’d lain at her feet, absorbing her beauty and drawing strength, and hope, from her presence. Rowena had asked about her husband. A ghardian perhaps? Lila wouldn’t have made a commitment. It would just be part of her cover story here.

  In his society, couples were usually only paired up after an application had been accepted to raise a family group. An appropriate partner would be selected by the Council, and the two parties involved would undertake a formal commitment to each other for the duration of the child-raising period. Intimacy was unheard of, and sexual relationships were rare. Most couples managed conception through far more reliable insemination processes with children’s attributes selected by the council. Jared had heard tales of the deviants living in the remote colonies, and how they formed relationships in the old fashioned way. The way they did it in this age. He’d been tempted.

  What he felt for Lila could not be defined and constrained by the life he was expected to live. True, the rules were starting to relax a fraction and some ranks were allowed to propose their own choice of partner, still to be approved by the Council, of course. But even if he found some way to propose for Lila, he would never be selected as her partner. His odd-colored eyes made him poor genetic material. His only chance for any kind of life with her would be if they left society for a colony. Or if they ran away to another time.

  If he’d been able to persuade her, they could have joined up with the sprawling communities led by Ambrosius in the mountains. They’d have lived in a remote village, raised a family and led a simple but happy life together. He could see it in his head. Two, three, or even four little children with bright blue eyes and gleaming yellow hair. Chickens running wild, hunting dogs, and ponies gathered around the homestead. He’d be able to show Lila just how much he loved her, and living so far from habitation, it would have been almost impossible for the ghardians to find them.