Fuck this. Sorry, spider, but you aren’t getting this fly.
I turn on my heel and race back down the path the way I came. Soft laughter fills the path behind me and I can hear it chasing after me, the thump of feet on the ground. My heart hammers in my chest as I look around for any kind of vantage point. Anything. A place I can ambush from would be preferable.
My eyes widen as the hedge in front of me at the bend in the path opens up like a zipper peeling down, the branches untangling as the hulking body of what can only be a living, breathing ogre steps through. His one eye glows balefully at me as he lets out a low grunt, his massive hands curling into fists. I backpedal, skidding on the cobbled stones beneath my feet.
I throw up my hand, sketching the sigil for the lightning, calling it forth in my incantation as I drag my hand toward him. Lightning flares... and bounces off of him. My jaw drops. This is exactly what Jinx had spoken of. Fuck me!
I raise my hand to repeat the strike, preparing to infuse more of my power into it, when I feel magic wrap around me like a gauze, making it impossible to move. My fingers twitch, desperate to etch the sigil, and my lips move wordlessly until they too stiffen. I can hear the footsteps approaching me at a steady, casual pace. I can’t turn my eyes to see who is approaching and am forced instead to look at the brute standing in front of me until an elegant male steps into view. At first, all I see is the silver embroidered vest of his black velvet over-coat peeking out from between the edges of a lush cape. He bends down and I recognize the pale blue eyes peering at me from the elf’s face, but there’s something different about him—something wrong.
I gurgle helplessly as a cruel smile curls his lips.
“We finally meet again.” He regards me coolly as the ogre pants behind him. “I didn’t think I would after the werewolf staked his territory..... and claimed you, I see.” He chuckles. “How delightful. I am going to enjoy getting to know you and broadening your experiences. Once I take care of your mate, that is, and break your bond. It takes time, so I am afraid we will have to wait until this unpleasantness is over before we can really get on to the fun stuff. I really must thank you for bringing the other female with you. It was difficult separating her from her mates, but a worthy prize. She will be quite useful.”
The ogre rumbles from behind him and he looks up at it, gesturing sharply. “Bring them both back to the tower. I want this one, however, brought directly to my workroom.”
The elf smiles at me once more, his fingers trailing down my cheek.
“Soon,” he whispers and turns away, disappearing from my sight.
The ogre lumbers forward and picks up something, slinging it over his shoulder. It is tightly bound with rope and my breath hisses out of me as he nears and the glow of my blade on the ground illuminates the unconscious gray werewolf.
Fahuri!
Her head rolls with his movement as he leans down to pick me up.
I barely feel the grip of his fingers through the magic cocooning me, though the world moves dizzyingly as he throws me over his other shoulder. My stomach protests with a surge of nausea, which only gets worse with each rocking step that he takes, sending the ground below swinging sharply from side-to-side. I can’t even close my eyes against it. It is only by some miracle that I don’t barf, and my stomach eventually settles down into a persistent, unhappy churning. I watch my glowing dagger get further away until the spell finally unravels, and my blade’s comforting light snuffs out.
I can’t see the path to the tower. They obviously use some kind of shortcut because it isn’t long before we pass through an obsidian stone entrance. I’m struck by the amount of obsidian used but then I am plunged into darkness, lit only sporadically by torches ensconced on the walls every few feet.
My breath stills as we pass a familiar swirling green light. The ogre shifts just enough as he turns to into a stairwell that I am given a brief view of a large portal.
Fuck me! That’s how they did it! The alpha can use the portal without Jinx and the portal transports them to the tower!
The ogre heads down the stairs into a grim space that can only be described as a dungeon or a holding cell of some type. In some of the pens, when the ogre moves just right, I can catch glimpses of females of various races and children, boys and girls both, clinging to each other. The ogre dumps me on the floor so he can retrieve a key from his belt. I hear the loud creak of the cell door opening and the shuffling of his footsteps as he enters and deposits Fahuri within. When he emerges again, I’m not sure if I should be concerned for her or myself at this moment.
He scoops me back up, upending me over his shoulder once more as we go back up the staircase. His footsteps are loud as we ascend. I watch the main floor pass by as we continue going up beyond the main level. It seems that we spend some time going up the twisting staircase. Every now and then there’s a bridge that empties onto a level, but the ogre keeps ascending. I have no doubt that the workroom is at the top of the tower.
The room we enter is spacious with four open spaces carved out of the wall, each with its own balcony set in cardinal directions. At each is an altar with a bowl bearing an element over which a glowing elemental hovers. I’m dropped in the center of the room near an altar made of the same dark stone, and the ogre lumbers out of the room without a backward glance.
I sit for an undeterminable amount of time. I am left facing the southern elemental, so I lie there watching the salamander spin over a polished and precisely cut piece of volcanic glass until I hear someone enter the room. Before long, a pair of black boots and snugly fit black pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination appear directly in front of me.
“Now, that doesn’t look very comfortable,” the elf murmured with faux sympathy. “Let’s remedy that.” He utters a sharp command in what I can only presume to be Elvish and the constraints on my body immediately vanish, allowing me to topple forward onto the floor. I groan when my nose hits the hard stone and he tsks as he reaches down to haul me to my feet.
“I suppose I should have warned you about that,” he says cheerfully. “And I am sorry to defang you like this, my dear, but I don’t want you attacking me with your impressive skills.” I feel his finger trace a pattern on my forearm as he breathes words over my skin. I feel a sharp pinch as he leans forward to bite me, his tongue tracing the drops of blood.
As I regain control of my muscles, I yank my arm back the moment he loosens his grip. He smiles.
“As I expected, a quick recovery following the enchantment. You are a treasure,” he sighs. “I knew you were perfect, the very one I wanted when I first saw you in that human establishment.”
“What did you do to me?” I rasp, my voice notably affected by the paralysis. I can feel a burning in my blood that makes me want to claw the spot where he bit me.
“Just a little spell to keep your magic from harming me,” he says cheerfully as he steps back, giving me room to stand. He offers a hand, but I move away from it, pushing myself to my feet on my own power. I’ll be damned if I touch him willingly. He chuckles, obviously finding my little rebellion entertaining.
Swaying on my feet, I stumble across the room, pain flooding my limbs that had gone numb. I turn and glare at him through the drapery of my hair, my lips parted as I breathe heavily. It alarms me how groggy I still am. Apparently, his spell did a lot more to me than I had suspected.
My captor just smiles at me coolly from where he stands on the other side of the altar.
“You are the one responsible for the missing werewolves.”
He inclines his head in shameless agreement. “I am. I can see why ogres covet the females, although my use for them is quite different. I occasionally give one to my servants to play with for a time before the sacrifice. After all, my mistress isn’t picky about the condition of her meals when they finally come to her. They do make a very satisfying meal, and the rare orc or minotaur female are equally delicious, but the only thing that really surpasses a female werewolf is a f
emale possessing high volumes of magic in her blood. I started sacrificing elf females to her appetite, but I came too near getting caught. The trolls are harder to catch since they keep to their hidden kingdoms. But witches I have found to be a potently pleasing offering. I feed her and she gives me everything.”
“So you’re going to feed me to the monster in your basement?”
He laughs—the eerie sound sending a crawling sensation skittering up my back—and claps his hands in delight. “That would defeat the purpose of me going through all the trouble that I did to capture you. It was a long wait, and I was growing impatient. I nearly took you from the satyr inn, but the wards over the rooms were too strong and I couldn’t figure out where to teleport you from.”
I frown, puzzled. “You’ve been watching us the entire time? But how...?”
“By having one of my own among. He has kept in touch with me by message orb ever since Eral recruited his betas to assist you. When he told me that you were in the tribal lands, I told him to do anything he could to get you here to me. While Baru is a useful tool, I have found it is also wise to keep my other weapons concealed, so even he doesn’t know that they are there. I have found many beings to be easily swayed by the lust for power. Wouldn’t you agree,” he murmurs.
“Who was it?”
He grins at me and turns to the side, looking at the deep shadows near the door. “Come on out. I think our guest would like to be re-acquainted.”
I watch the shadows shift and stiffen in alarm as a large werewolf steps out with a bloodied lance. I almost don’t recognize him from all the modifications that have been worked on him. I can feel the taint of the poisonous magic all over him. He is taller and his muscles larger than natural, his teeth likewise larger and more vicious in appearance. Even his body looks different where metal has been soldered onto his frame. Drool drips from his large fangs as he grins at me.
“Gorn?” I whisper in shock. “Why?”
The werewolf chuckles but comes nearer. “Why not, human? I have paid the coin necessary to get the improvements that will allow me to take over my pack. Baru, who spent years transporting females to the Warue for the ogres, and then to this tower in allegiance to the master once he arranged for the portal to be hooked up to our network, is going to get everything he’s had coming to him. I will be alpha. I will have females presenting to me in their heat.”
“Your brothers...”
“They won’t be saving you.” He chuckles. “Tas and Vrox are lost in the maze and unlikely to survive the horrors therein, and I took care of Mentep and Etier in the high plains once we were far enough away that they wouldn’t have a chance of escaping to rejoin you.”
“You killed your own brothers?” I stare at him in horror.
For his part, he looks offended. “I did not kill them. I wounded them and left it to nature to take care of the rest of it. Whether they survived or not is a matter of their will to live and if chance falls in their favor. Regardless, they won’t be rushing to your aid.”
“You’re helping to kill your own females!” I shout.
“A few females, or a small group of kits, per year will be a small sacrifice. Especially when I take control of breeding within the tribe, our numbers will increase. We can even infiltrate and raid the troll kingdom for their females to supplement our own. Our tribe that you are so worried about will be the most powerful in this part of the world, all due to our alliance with Miglinor.”
“Gorn,” Miglinor’s bored voice cuts through his diatribe.
“Master?” Gorn rumbles, turning his attention away from me to humble himself before his master. I sneer at the pathetic display. Sold out like a whiny bitch. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“You are being tiresome,” Miglinor sighs. He studies his fingernail and frowns before flicking a bit of dirt from beneath it. He looks up, his icy eyes narrowing on the werewolf. “Don’t you think your time would be better spent doing something else... like hunting down the rest of the males in my labyrinth? I want to get this whole tedious affair out of the way. Bring me their heads, and I will finish your modifications.”
Gorn drops into a deeper bow before springing up to lope out of the room at an unnaturally fast pace. I swallow as I watch him disappear.
“Those creatures in the northern wood... your creations?”
“Some of my finest work,” he agrees with an unnaturally wide smile, his fangs glinting in the low light of the room. He waves a graceful hand in the air dismissively. “Unfortunately, far too feral. I couldn’t keep them here. I had originally put them in the labyrinth but when they started killing my other pets, it seemed a good idea to put them at the outer edges of my territory to keep away those who might try to discover my secrets.”
I just stare at him. He’s absolutely insane.
“You’re nuts! The northern forest is a creepy ass dead zone.”
He shrugs and wanders over to one of the windows. He rubs his lip thoughtfully as he stares down at what I cannot guess. I shift to the side so that the window is before me, and around the edges of his body I can see the labyrinth stretched out against the mountain.
Somewhere in there is my mate. My heart constricts painfully. I am afraid and I am angry, but I’m in a position where there’s nothing I can do. I debate rushing forward and pushing Miglinor over the short balcony. Would I be able to strike before he turns and evades me? I creep up closer, stepping silently as I near his turned back.
There’s no use in not trying.
I charge the short distance that separates us. A sense of impending victory fills my gut as I come within inches of him. My triumph is stolen in the blink of an eye. Miglinor lifts a hand and sends out a blast of power that catapults me across the room, my body slamming into the opposite wall. I crumble to the floor, wheezing as he strides across the room.
“Are you in pain?” he asks in a cold tone.
My eyes tear but I snarl at him. “Fuck you.”
He sighs in exasperation and leans down. Threading his fingers into the thick mass of my curls, he yanks me to my feet. I cry out at the pain that shoots through my scalp.
“You and I are going to have to work out a way to temper this rebellious attitude of yours,” he says pleasantly. “As much as I love your feistiness, I will not have you acting in such a way again. Shall we see how we can remedy this?”
He smirks as he drags me across the room to a wall with chains dangling from it. Though his frame is not as heavily muscled as Arawl, he lifts me easily, sliding the chained cuffs around my wrists before spinning me around to face the wall. I hear a snap of a whip behind me.
“An offering of blood to one’s master is the most potent form of libation. Let us see how much blood you shall pay me with a few strikes as a reminder to mind your manners.”
The whip hisses up and pain shoots through me as it bites my skin when it comes cracking down. The pain seems to go on forever until he finally ends. The five lashes blaze across my skin, blood seeping down my back. I collapse against the wall, shaking, hoping that he will go away now and let me suffer in peace. My hopes are dissolved when I feel his hot tongue upon my skin, lapping up the drops of blood. The sacrifice.
Chapter 27
Arawl
I am not even trying to remain silent as I run down the paths of the labyrinth. Occasionally I get frustrated when I encounter an abrupt dead end, but it never derails me for long before I am racing down another path, my breath coming out as ragged pants as I expend my energy to hunt for my mate. I don’t even let the monsters of the labyrinth slow me down. My blade, claws, and fur are wet with blood. The creatures that emerged in the labyrinth had been one horror after another.
The worst had been the pit in the center of the path that I had not seen until it was too late to keep myself from sliding into it. The four-headed serpent dwelled there in the sludgy water at the bottom. My thick fur kept me safe enough from its fangs, but every now and then a strike got through, making my skin burn. By the
time I killed it, I was soaked through, shivering, and had the distinct taste of blood and bile in my mouth.
I hold my sword off to my side, my eyes picking up nuances in the darkness. I see a vine swipe out and slash it with my blade. It doesn’t hurt it, of course. The hedge is maintained and trimmed by the centaur. But it does immediately relieve me of the problem of dealing with the shrub trying to pull me in and chew on me. A section ahead blooms thick with flowers as if to entice me with its feminine petals. I am not a fool. I bristle and growl and give the area berth as I pass by. I keep my sword drawn just in case, ready to spill more blood when I catch a familiar scent.
Ana!
I race around the bend, exhilaration filling me, but my heart plummets when I see nothing more than the open path before me. She is not there, but there is another scent that teases at my memory while I try to single out and track hers.
I sniff the air, catching the trace of her natural perfume and follow it until I see the source of her lingering scent. She’d obviously be gone for some time, but her dagger lies on the ground, the blade catching the faint light to wink it back at me.
Growling, I crouch to recover my mate’s blade. I am heartsick that she is without it in this dangerous place.
I follow my nose and a growl rises up in my throat as I recognize the familiar scent of an elf. I can’t quite place where I encountered it before, but it smells wrong, with a stench of sickness to it. I lope up and down this stretch of the path, following the scent trail until it terminates at the bend I just came from. This time, I pay attention to the scents scattered here. She’d been here, as had the elf... and... I draw in a deep breath, my body freezing in alarm... and ogre. There had been an ogre that had materialized in exactly this spot! I am confused because to my mind it seems impossible.
I didn’t scent the ogre anywhere on the trail before arriving on the bend, nor was he at the further end of this section of the maze. He just appeared here and then disappeared at some point a little over halfway down. I pace back and forth in front of the place his scent trail ends, my hackles rising as confusion races through my mind. Where could he have gone?
The Accidental Werewolf's Mate: A Monsterly Yours Romance (Monstery Yours Book 3) Page 19
