by Owner
The men closed in shoving her from one to the other. Her empath senses lit up. Their vile emotions and lust were so overwhelming that Bess had to shield against them.
One of them grabbed her hair.
Another slapped her across the face again. Her world went dark. She could not faint. Not now.
“She looks pretty good,” one said.
“Strange hair color. What is that?”
“Probably worth some danon with that hair.”
“A runaway.” That one had a low voice.
“Who is your master?”
“A slave who runs has to be punished.” One of the men grabbed her hair, held her still and put his face close to hers. “You’ve been a bad slave.” His smile showed rotted teeth. “We will do your master a favor and teach you a lesson.”
The man’s thoughts made bile rise in her throat. She bit his hand.
Panic drove Bess to fight them with her fists.
Another laughed. “Get a switch. We’ll take the fight out of her.”
Bess was barely aware that two more came in close to the fire. They must have been guarding the ones who slept.
It was the one who didn’t laugh who worried her the most. What she felt from him made her doubt she would survive this night. Evil thoughts and emotions flooded her. She must block them.
“Now we will have some fun,” the quiet one said.
There was a flash of light. Firelight glinted off a sword. Hot liquid hit Bess’s naked breasts. Blood. She heard the grunt of a man dying, felt his terror as the darkness claimed him.
Var was here.
The big warlord barely spared her a glance as he turn and drove his sword through the middle of the one who was now behind him. She felt sick at the sound of the sword when Var jerked it out of the man’s body. He stood tall. Fates! He was big. She was in awe of his graceful body as he twirled the sword from side to side in front of him. He was so fast. Even while he was fighting, the way he moved amazed her.
Bess watched as the dying man swayed on his feet, his life blood pumping out. He blinked at her and his mouth moved as he tried to speak.
The man holding her hair shoved her to the ground.
Var’s sword glinted in the firelight. “Close your eyes,” he grated out.
All of them had their swords out now. They formed a circle around Var.
The warlord backhanded a man with his left hand while he used his sword to defend himself from another. After a slash from his sword wounded the man in the face, Var went to one knee and drove his sword backward and up into the body of the one behind him as that man came up, knife in hand. Var didn’t even look behind him, just pulled his sword forward and out of the man.
Var blocked the sword of the one on his left with his forearm band, and the sword of another with his own sword. Sparks flew in the night when the metal clashed. The expression on his face never changed. Two more moved to corner him. He spun around between them. Bess’s mouth opened in a silent scream as their heads fell to the ground, followed by their bodies dropping in slow motion.
Var was deadly efficient. The men lay dead on the ground which rapidly soaked up their blood.
Bess covered herself with her arms and retched. When she finished, she dared to look at Var.
His chest heaved and she knew it was more a result of his anger than from the battle. The ferocity in his eyes pierced her as surely as his sword had pierced the men who now lay dead.
Her anger evaporated under the onslaught of Var’s rage. The scar on his face was white with his fury and he looked more frightening than any nightmare she’d ever seen.
She tried to crawl away when he moved toward her.
He was on her before she could get to her feet. His hand in her hair, he turned her face up to him. He pulled her to her feet and bent her backwards, towering over her.
She held onto him, the heat from his body warmed her naked skin. His blue eyes were crystal in the firelight. Fear gripped her heart. She could not help but admire his beauty, the planes of his face and his high cheekbones. Why was she so irrational?
She jerked herself back to reality. He was going to kill her. Maybe he would kill her swiftly and she would not even know when it happened. She closed her eyes, waiting.
“Look. At. Me.” He ground the words out.
Bess opened her eyes.
“What. Did. I. Tell. You.” His breath was hot on her face, his voice grated, barely above a whisper.
It was not a question. His rage, barely leashed, overpowered her. It was as if his anger invaded her, filled her up. She couldn’t speak. Again, she felt that hard coil within him.
“Answer me.” Even though he whispered, his voice was abrasive whipping her soul and shredding it.
She shook her head.
“There is danger in defying me.”
She felt his disgust. For her?
Bess gazed at him, detached. His beautiful warrior’s face appeared surreal in the firelight, his full lips pressed together in a thin line, his eyes blazed. His jaw must have been chiseled from granite. Flickering light and shadows made the planes of his face appear as sharp as cut glass.
Wait. What had he said?
Var was looking at her blood-covered breasts. He had a metal cuff on her wrist and before she could protest he did the same with the other wrist.
Without another word, he turned and dragged her by the chain between the cuffs. He waded into the stream that ran close to the camp and forced her into the freezing water.
“Wash off the blood.” By the time he pulled her out, she was aching from the icy water. He inspected her carefully while she shivered under his glare.
“None of the blood is yours.” He tilted his head and considered her. “Except the split lip, skinned knees and palms. Running in the dark. You little fool.” Var used her torn clothing to wipe the blood off his sword. He turned on his heel and pulled her along by the chain between the cuffs.
She staggered after him.
“I would know why you are so anxious to end your life.”
Her brain refused to work. When she tried to speak, her teeth were chattering so hard, she could not form words.
“Answer me.” He turned and gripping her upper arms, gave her a shake.
“N-No.” Bess managed to whisper.
“If you do anything else to bring about your end while you are in my charge, I will turn you over my knee and you will not be able to sit down for days. I told you I would have your obedience. I explained that I am here to deliver you to sanctuary. Yet you run away at the first opportunity. If you had survived these men raping and beating you...”
Bess was forced to stumble after him. She had to almost run to keep up. When she fell, he pulled her to her feet and threw her over his shoulder. When Bess protested his rough handling, she heard a smack and felt a sharp sting on her rear end. With a jolt, she realized he had spanked her bare bottom. The sting turned into a burn the size of his huge hand. He was silent, but she could feel his rage. It chilled her soul as thoroughly as the cold water had chilled her skin.
They reached the cave in much less time than it had taken her to get away from it. She did her best to stop her teeth from chattering when he set her on her feet and tossed her a blanket.
He grabbed her pallet and put it against the back wall of the cave, then tossed his pallet down beside hers.
Unable to stop shivering, she held the blanket in front of her and watched him.
“Lie down.”
Bess took a step back shaking her head.
Var caught the chain, stepped toward her and pushed with his foot locked behind hers. Off balance, Bess was forced down onto the pallet. He moved away.
She scrambled to sit with with her back to the wall, her knees up and the blanket held tightly in front of her. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm. Bess felt too vulnerable to lie down. He had not hurt her even though rage flowed from him in waves.
He squatted and fed wood into the fire. She watched the smoke
drift up to a small hole in the ceiling as the wood crackled and the fire grew.
Var sat on a large stone and took up a cloth to clean his sword more thoroughly.
She heard a whimper and realized it had come from her.
Var tossed her an apple.
Her cold fingers fumbled the catch, but she picked it up while keeping the blanket in front of her.
“Eat,” he said.
He was formidable. Bess ate and looked anywhere but in his direction. The fire and warmth made the enclosure intimate. Shadows danced on the walls.
He finished cleaning his sword and put it away.
“Lie down.” Var grabbed the blanket and jerked it away from her.
Bess twisted to turn her back to him.
He was behind her, covering her with the blanket before she could crawl away. Trapped between the wall and his body, she tried to sit up but he held her down and threw his leg over hers.
Surely he was not going to sleep. Not after killing those men. Bess let his warmth seep into her, but she did not relax.
“Breathe with me,” he ordered.
She tried, but her senses would not slow down. Afraid to anger him more, she breathed at the same time he did. It was an effort at first. Eventually his body heat and the blanket warmed her. A long time later, she felt warm and stopped shaking. Much later, she relaxed.
Var stroked her hair and pulled her closer. Bess felt it then. From the mercenary barbarian, she felt compassion. His warmth surrounded her when he pulled her closer to the comfort of his body. Even if the compassion was caused from pity, she wanted it. Needed it.
In a haze of what felt like exhaustion, she marveled that she could feel so drowsy. Her limbs were heavy. As she calmed, she let the caress of his warm hands soothe her. With her arms across her breasts and her body pulled close to him, she slowly drifted to sleep.
Chapter 19
Var kept a close eye on Bess. She was subdued today. He had provided the last of the clean clothes he had brought for her and ignored her while she dressed this morning. Why had she run from him? Surely she knew she could not manage by herself. Half the bounty hunters in the known societies were hunting empaths. She was especially vulnerable, here, in the society of slavers. There was no safe place she could go except with him.
He hated seeing the bruises on her slender wrists. The milk white of her skin darkened to blue where the skas had touched her. A darkening bruise on her cheek made him wish he could kill those skas again.
Var smelled her fear, but that might be a good thing. Maybe she would think before she acted so foolishly again. He put her on the horse and mounted behind her.
As they rode, he was all too aware of her scent. Last night he had a good look at her beautiful, pink-tipped breasts. How would it feel to hold those soft mounds in his hands, to nuzzle and suckle them? Her skin was smooth and soft and creamy and he wanted her.
Fury rushed through him. He had no right to think about her that way.
It had shaken him, seeing her covered with blood. That none of it was hers he owed only to luck. If he had not arrived when he did...
Var’s past failures proved he did not deserve a mate. He had not even saved his own mother.
The painful memories burned him. He and his mother had been stolen and brought to this land. His mother had been auctioned to an evil man while he had been sold as a laborer. Though only a boy, he already had the build that indicated he would be strong and muscular. He had brought a good price.
When they were being marched out to the mines, he had seen his mother. She had been beaten to death. Later someone told him that her new master was disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm at being forced to serve him. Marching past her body, something died inside him. They had thrown her away like so much trash.
No, he did not deserve a mate. He lived by the rules and ensured that others followed them as well. That and protecting the innocent were his purpose in life.
What kind of male would leave bruises on a helpless female? They were weaker. They were meant to be cherished. He would protect Bess, even from himself.
Last night Var had been attracted to her. He should not have been. Whether it was her beauty or her vulnerability, the little MX made him feel things he preferred not to deal with — things he did not want to admit, even to himself. Always, his deep shame, the shadow of his failure to save his mother, hung over him.
Lying beside the MX all night had been exquisite torture. Here he was, Warlord Var, Second of the Warlords of Kryst, Koda’s Enforcer, acting like an awkward youngster because of a small female. He never spent the night with the pleasure females. After the sex, he left them. Var was sure they preferred it that way. Getting paid for sex was fine, but surely they didn’t want to look at his scarred body any longer than necessary.
But this one, he had to hold down, to make sure she did not run again. Knowing she was naked under that blanket made for a long night.
She thought he was going to turn her over for the bounty. He had no idea how to convince her he was helping her. It was just bad luck that the STS had caught them at the river. Why they attacked in the river and not on dry ground he could not say. They certainly were desperate to have this MX. Knowing she could know their thoughts stunned him. Var understood why the empaths were considered so dangerous. Whatever the STS leader thought, she had known it. Read it, she said. As a result, the tenuous trust building between them had been shattered.
He could think of nothing that would make her trust him again and it rankled. Even after he had saved her, she still saw him as the enemy.
The mocking disbelief in her eyes stirred feelings in him that were foreign. Var would not beg her to believe him. Warlords of Kryst did not beg. Ever. He would take her to the other empaths. She would believe him once she was safe. In the meantime, he would get her to safety by force if he had to.
When they stopped at mid-day, Var sat across from her and watched as she bit her lip, and winced in pain. It was split and swollen.
Var moved to straddle the log she was sitting on, his knees almost touching her. He put his fingers under her chin to lift her face.
She tossed her head and turned away.
“Stubborn one.” He caged her chin and turned her face to him. His grip was firm, but he was careful not to hurt her. Var took his time inspecting the bruise on her cheek and her damaged lip.
She sat still, barely breathing. Her heart was pounding.
Good. He wanted her to understand that he controlled her. It would be easier to keep up this stern distance if she did not smell so good.
“I have no desire to harm you,” he told her, “but I will punish you if you leave me no alternative. I am taking you to safety, whether you like it or not. You will do my will. It will be easier if you decide that for yourself and obey me.”
She was breathing hard. The first layer of her clothing was a thin wrap-around top and a matching skirt. He had no breast binding to give her. Var watched her chest move and wished he had not. The image of her naked body from the night before was burned into his brain.
After they ate, Var pulled out a pouch. He leaned forward and pulled one of her slender wrists to him.
She fought him when she saw the pen. This empath had a lot of pride and a wild, independent streak. He admired her spirit, but he could not have her trying escape at every opportunity. Eventually, they would run out of luck.
“I can tie you so that you cannot move a muscle. Unless you want that, sit still.”
The look on her face made him feel like a monster. Perhaps she saw a monster when she looked at him. Many did. The scars on his face did not help people feel comfortable around him. That had not bothered him in many years and he was irritated that he thought of it today.
Var took the cuffs off her and dipped the pen in a container. He began drawing marks on her wrists. When he finished, he gave her a head covering to bind up her hair and a black veil that would hang past her chin. “Put this on and make sure your hair
and face are covered. Hair this color is rare. I would know what you call it.”
Her green eyes flashed fire at him. “Some call it red. More accurately, it is titian.”
“It is — brighter than any I have seen. I would know why it has all those — spirals.”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “I told you. It’s curly.”
“I would know how… “
She interrupted him. “Naturally curly,” she let her exasperation with him show. Gutsy female.
Maybe she did not like talking about her hair, but he could not have that long red mane hanging free for all to see. It was beautiful hair and a shame she had to hide it. What he really wanted was to run his fingers through it, feel it on his bare skin when she rode him. Guide her with it. Var shook his head and she jerked as if afraid. Had she read something from him?
Bess moved to stand silently by the horse. The set of her jaw made him think she barely concealed her anger. Or was she projecting that to him? Var did not want to break her spirit, but delivering her safely required more precautions and less freedom for her.
When he approached her, she flinched. Something inside him raged. Although he kept telling himself her fear of him was a good thing, he did not want it.
Var ground his teeth before he set her on the horse and mounted behind her. “I would know if you are disappointed that your attempt to escape met with such disaster last night.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I would have you answer me when I ask a question.”
“Yes.” Her eyes flashed green fire at him. “Yes, I am disappointed.”
“My people are accepting of those who are different. They will welcome you. The MX who are already there are anxious to have you join them.”
They rode in silence for a while. He heard nothing but the wind in the trees and the sounds of the forest creatures. The trees offered good shade on the mostly bare forest floor.
“I would know why you are not eager to be with others of your kind, in a place that offers safety.”
