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The Bridal Hunt (Brides of the Hunt Book 1)

Page 7

by Jeanette Lynn


  Well, boo-hoo to him. “Let... Me... Go!” Hips free, I rolled, legs kicking wildly. It worked and I slid free, crawling away, a set of giant, hairy hands slapping at loose dirt and empty air.

  No one was waiting outside my little cave hideaway, no guard on duty in sight. With the exception of all the growling inside my closet cave, the area appeared abandoned.

  It bought me a few seconds, but not much. It was something and, not one for wasting an opportunity, I used it.

  Taking off, I hoped like hell the momentary wash of relief sweeping through me wasn't premature. They’d probably figured they'd get to me first, before I could try to leave again, no guard beasts ready to catch me needed.

  Glad of my earlier trek through the massive cave tunnel system, I ran for the human-sized entrance by the rock groupings, tracing back the same exact way I'd originally arrived in the first place.

  Growls echoed not too far off behind me and my stomach dipped. Have to keep going or they’ll get me.

  Desperate and determined not to get caught, I pressed on, pushing myself to my breaking point, not once slowing, despite the fact that I still hadn't run into any of them yet.

  I’d almost thought I’d lost them, but swiftly realized I’d spoken too soon.

  A large shape suddenly came charging right for me, bursting out from one of the wide-mouthed side caves. His footsteps thudded heavily, pounding loudly on the cave floor.

  Giving up all thought of being quiet then, I squealed when the blue-eyed beastie suddenly came running from one of the other cave entrances in the opposite direction, rushing towards me. He almost succeeded in cutting me off, the blue-eyed bather-beast, but I twisted and leapt, veering off past them both at the same time, all the while screaming my little heart out.

  Jerking to the right, I zigged and zagged, narrowly avoiding the blue-eyed beast and the other white giant snarling and chasing after me. Squeaking and squawking in protest, I clumsily ducked, jumped, dipped, dived and dodged, narrowly missing wide, long-armed lunges and grabby hands. I could feel them at my back, thick fingers grazing it every so often. My heart crawled up my throat and I shrieked, as if to jump out of my skin, at every slight slip or touch along the back of my thick coat.

  The crudely shaped exit soon came within sight and I pushed that much harder, reminding myself I still had a chance. I could still make it. My thighs burned, chest heaving as my lungs ached, but this was it.

  Somehow I reached the cave opening, miraculously, tempted to dive right through the blasted thing, head first. Slamming into the side wall butting up against the entrance/exit space in my haste, to slip along the side, feeling my way closer, I wasted no time wedging my butt up in there tight and squeezing my way in.

  Right as I began to slip past the tightest part, a tempting peek of sunlight and the smell of cool air teasing my senses, I felt a hand grasp my jacket, turning it in a fat fist, preparing to wrench me back.

  “No. Not gonna happen. Not to... day. Argh.” My fingers gripped the cold stone and I dug in, clawing at it, my legs tensing as they helped to hold me in place, to pull myself through.

  Kicking off, ignoring the way the rock walls scraped against me, tearing at my clothes, scratching up my hands and the side of my cheek, I jerked and yanked, screaming with the effort, then promptly flew forward. Skidding forward and out, tumbling along the ground, I plopped free to the other side.

  Groaning, belly-flopped on the ground, my lips parted as my head lifted, dirt and other various muck spewing out of my mouth. Pushing up a little on my elbows, I hauled myself up, a little worse for wear but still hearty and whole, to come eye to eye with someone's naked, furry groin.

  "Ahhh!" At the sight of, well, all of that, I shrieked, rearing back. Blanching, gaping, kind of freaking the hell out, I fell back on my butt, crab-walking backwards towards the cave as I looked up, up, and up, into the very pissed off face of a hulking beastie.

  Uh-oh... And I’d thought Kirch was big and scary.

  This behemoth was much bigger than all the others, a veritable giant among giants. We’re talking massive.

  Narrowed, icy white-blue eyes shone down on me like hard chips of glass as the beast man gave a vicious scowl.

  Mouth working wordlessly, I gulped and tittered a little nervously, jumping when my back bumped into a second set of thick, furry legs. Two arms came up under my armpits to haul me up, plopping me on my feet, a group of scowling Abominables moving in to surround me.

  The blue-eyed bather from earlier came through the rocks, squeezing his larger frame through the hole I’d thought too small for any of them to fit with freakish ease. Smirking over at the behemoth beast on steroids, smug as can be, he boasted, "Told ya I could get her to come out."

  My jaw dropped as he spoke to the bigger male, self-assured cockiness dripping from every word, and in perfect English, too!

  "You... asshole!" I screeched indignantly.

  Our audience momentarily forgotten, I launched myself at the filthy cur, furious, slapping at him frantically. Falling forward, we tumbled, my legs splayed on either side of him, his hands shooting up defensively. I straddled his chest then, pummeling him, turning my slaps into hard punches, the sound of his shocked grunt more satisfying than I could have imagined.

  "You stupid! Arrogant... cocky..." I yelled and screamed, between slaps and punches. I have to go back, and it’s all his fault. He’s just made everything that much harder for me—how could I ever attempt another escape now? I wanted to claw his face off.

  Unperturbed by my assault, the blue-eyed beast made a half-assed effort at defending himself without fighting back, shielding his body with his arms, his hands out in front of him, palms out, fingers splayed and wiggling in my direction as he chuckled, like this was all some big joke.

  Joke? A joke?! I’ll show him a joke!

  "Whu- Hey! Release me, you lummox!" I hollered as someone jumped in and picked me up by my waist, effectively separating me from my target, right as I was going for that stupid beastie’s pretty blue eyes.

  Spitting and snarling angrily, I flailed, shooting forward to claw at the blue-eyed asshole. “Lemme at him! Lemme at him!”

  The blue-eyed beast leaned back the tiniest bit at the look on my face, all that pent up anger spilling out from me, directed towards him, a snarl on my lips, earning himself a round of laughter from the other males when he flinched.

  "I hate you!" Finger thrusting out, I pointed accusingly at the instigator in my return to snow beast, bridal camp hell.

  The male looked truly taken aback by the venom in my voice, his expression morphing into one of honest to god surprise as I lambasted him. Why is this surprising? I mean, really? I'd like to fuckin' know!

  One of the other males said something to the blue-eyed jerk that had his face turning sour, flushing as he got up. Grunting and growling in their beastie language, the other males around him slapped him on the back good-naturedly, laughing uproariously.

  Looks like someone's getting teased and doesn't like it very much, I thought, snorting. Good. He deserves it.

  The massive giant who held me turned me around in his arms so I faced him, studying me curiously as I matched him stare for stare. Legs swinging uselessly as he held me aloft, holding me up and out like I weighed nothing, I felt like a doll—a freaking rag doll.

  Judging by the breadth and width of him, all the muscles stacked upon muscles he was packing, I'd say I probably didn't weigh anything to him. At all. This dude was huge.

  Despite his size, demeanor, and permanent scowl, there was no menace rolling off of him, no crazy beast anger, just an intense sense of curiosity—nothing to truly give me real pause or scare the ever loving out of me. It emboldened me.

  "What are you lookin' at?!" I sniped waspishly, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He just stood there staring at me, studying me, like some kind of freak in a sideshow, dutifully holding me up and away like a bag of bad smell.

  "Not... afraid?" His eyes roamed ov
er me as he waited for a response, sizing me up. “Afraid?” he asked again, voice more insistent than before.

  "I'm too stupid, tired, stubborn, and pissed off at the moment to be afraid," I muttered, coughing into my hand to cover it up.

  The blue-eyed beastie chortled behind me, getting a death glare when my gaze whipped around to meet his. "Oh, shut up!" I snapped.

  "Mmmm..." The big beastie with the crazy white eyes rumbled, a garbled, lawn mower sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

  Gaze darting back to him, scouring over his expression and then his chest, I frowned, disconcerted by the noise. The sound kicked up a notch.

  What was, or is, that? It was like his whole body was vibrating, it was so loud and rumbly. Some insane part of me—that I don't understand and probably never will—wanted to reach out and touch his chest, see what it felt like, see what would happen—what would he do?

  Mina! What the hell are you doing? Don't be curious about them! Get the fuck gone, woman!

  "Put me down." I spoke quietly, staring right into the depths of those stormy, milky white and blue eyes.

  The behemoth nodded and slowly let me down, surprising me as he set me so gently, carefully, to my feet. He was too careful, as if afraid he might break me. It was an odd experience, being treated as if made of glass.

  "Thank you," I mumbled, tugging my clothes back into place. "I forgot my bag back in the cave..." Clearing my throat, I peeked up at him, then sighed sadly.

  He frowned, grunting at that pathetic little sound.

  “Could someone go back and get it?" Blinking up at him innocently, fingers twisting into the palm of the opposite hand, I offered him a wan but hopeful smile. “Please?” Technically, I'm not lying—I totally considered the beastie's belt mine, for the short time it was in my possession.

  Gaze shifting over my head, the big guy barked something out, gesturing to one of the other beasties standing around. It looked like he was sending someone else off on the mission. Shoot.

  Thinking fast, I knelt down as if to adjust my boot, fiddling with the hem of my pants, reaching down to spread my fingers across the ground. Gathering enough into my fist, I grabbed up a handful of dirt.

  "I need to pee." Face pinching tight, I whined as I straightened up. Crossing my legs, I wiggled in place, holding the fistful of dirt in my clenched fist tight while pretending to cup my crotch.

  The beasts gathered all started talking at once, one voice carrying over the other when I started hopping around, dancing from foot to foot, as if everyone had to debate this.

  Gathering closer as hands waved and voices rose, a circle of beasts debating over bathroom rules, this actually ended up working out wonderfully. For me, at least.

  Throwing my arms out, fingers flying open, I flung my loose dirt confetti. It went everywhere, arching in a wide semicircle, much as I’d been hoping, the majority of it spraying out at about beast eye level. A few beasts bellowed out in pain, some flying back in surprise, others flopping forward.

  Angry roars making my ears ring as an angry man-beast stampede threatened, I ran, taking off for the woods, too afraid to look back.

  A large mitt of a hand grabbed at my jacket within moments of my attempted escape and, while I knew it was futile, I screamed bloody murder. An annoyed sound in his throat, my captor gripped my jacket in one hand, the butt of my pants in the other, lifting me straight up and out.

  Reaching back to claw at my offender, I put up as good a fight as any—while pretty much just swinging there, quite uselessly.

  Oh, yay, me. This isn't awkward. "Put! Me! Down!" I bellowed, surging higher up into the air.

  Don't look down! Eep! Do not look down!

  I looked.

  Squealing like a little piggy as I flew about, I squawked, my abrupt ride coming to a jarring, brain rattling halt. This was partly in fear—my barely human sound effects—seeing as I'm not much for heights, and partly in embarrassment—oh god, is this humiliating—an audience of white furballs watching on interestedly.

  Whoever had caught me up growled—a low, fierce, menacing grumble. Swinging about again, I was then hauled up against a large, heavily muscled chest, and promptly squashed into a bear-sized hug.

  It was the biggest bastard of the bunch who’d scooped me up—surprise, surprise—but he didn't seem all that upset, so much as thoroughly amused.

  Amused? What?! Erm... should I be worried?

  The big bad Abominable turned me around, whipping me in a circle fast enough to make my head spin.

  “Shouldn’t have eaten the dust crackers turned to paste,” I grumbled dazedly, grimacing.

  Putting us face to face, while I tried not to puke, the behemoth easily kept me firmly pinned in place with his iron-like grip. At least I wasn’t being flung about anymore.

  Tossing his head, the icy-eyed beast barked something out to the other snow beasts, grunting in approval as one by one they all started trudging off, probably back to camp. We started following after, and I wanted to howl out in protest. No! Not back there!

  "I have money!" I fairly shouted, stopping him in his tracks. Smiling hopefully, I nodded enthusiastically, willing him to give in, but after less than a second he just shrugged.

  Thinking my bargaining done, obviously unwilling to budge, he started off again, but I stopped him, placing a staying hand on his chest.

  Startled, his steps faltered and his gaze darted between us, to my hand on his chest, then my face, and back again. He looked truly surprised by the action, like he just couldn’t believe it.

  Rumbling low, his thick, furry eyebrows crinkled in confusion. Good, I have his undivided attention.

  "Take me home and I won't tell anyone," I stated calmly, crossing my arms over my chest, smiling cajolingly while I tried to wheedle him into changing his mind.

  The big brute made an odd noise in the back of his throat and clucked his tongue. That rusty rumble sounded oddly like a purr and a chuckle mixed together. He did it again, leaning in a little. Leaning away, I blinked at that, shocked.

  It's his happy noise, I realized, wondering what in this world or the next was worth getting so worked up about. He’s freaking purring, like a giant cat, for Pete’s sake.

  Following those freakishly frosty eyes, I glanced down, right where his peepers were currently trained—more like glued. My breasts were squashed up together, my jacket unzipped a bit and having ridden low, leaving the girls out on display. Crazy eyes was getting a good show.

  Pig, I thought, lowering my arms. The purring stopped, cut off as if someone had flipped a switch, and the oversized furball finally unlocked his beastly eyes from my half frozen boobies.

  Dragging his gaze away, which looked as if it took great effort on his part, he purred again. Frosty colored eyes slowly meeting mine, the beast grinned.

  I didn’t reciprocate the gesture, trying to glare a hole through his pale, blue-vein lined face, which just seemed to entertain him more.

  Hawkish nose crinkling, his whole face lit up, sharp teeth winking at me in the dim light of the forest as his eyes glinted mischievously, a rumbling chuckle bubbling out of him.

  Ugh. Males... Double pig. Give ‘em boobs and they’re happy as clams. Morons, all of them!

  Unamused, I growled. Reaching around, irritation an understatement, I yanked at the zipper on my jacket, feeling properly indignant.

  His purr growing louder, I glared harder.

  "You're a pig," I muttered, giving him the evil eye.

  His smile fell and his purr cut off, but he didn't respond. Lips pursing tight, I harrumphed.

  Peeking a glance at him, watching as the corners of his eyes crinkled, his lips twitched.

  "I'd make a terrible mate, you know," I admitted, sniffing haughtily as his eyebrows lifted inquiringly. Nodding solemnly, I continued, "I talk too much, I'm rude, I have zero table manners. Uhm... I refuse to cook, clean, sew, make babies... You name it, I won't do it!” My nodding turned vigorous, until I was forced to sto
p or knock something loose. “You should just send my ass back. Save you all the trouble."

  He snorted, a small smile playing at his lips, his long teeth peeking out a bit, the pointed tips gleaming, sharp and white. Still, he didn't say anything, just hugged me once more, threw me over his shoulder, and started walking.

  His men trailed behind him as he easily caught up, ready to lead the pack, and I jounced and bounced along from my perch over his shoulder.

  The big beastie started humming low in his throat, a strange, happy noise that had me irritated all over again. This is not fun. No happy hums!

  "No, really! You don't understand. I'm, uh... I'm lactose intolerant! Yeah!! That's right! Do you know what that even means?!" I wasn’t, not really, but he didn't need to know that. "I have leprosy, fleas, lice... I, uh… I'm spoken for!"

  The blue-eyed devil sidled up behind the male toting me around and smirked. "Really, Meanie? Then what's his name?"

  "George!" I blurted, lying my hefty rump off. "And it's Mina! Not Meanie, you imbecile!"

  Well, that wiped the smirk clean off his face. Frowning, a small scowl overtaking that smug expression, it also shut him right up.

  No one was the least bit interested in my babbling after that, deftly ignoring me while I spouted off complete and utter bologna, going on and on until my voice grew hoarse. I know they know what I'm saying, even if only some of them can speak it! They were so good at ignoring me, in fact, it could be deemed a special talent.

  So, mission unaccomplished and voice gone scratchy, for the last leg of the trip I protested my return in silence. Pouting quietly, I treated anyone who dared look at me with a dog-like snarl and a blackened stare.

  Chapter Six

  W

  hen we finally made it back to the village the muscle bound giant let me off of his shoulder, placing a restraining hand on the back of my neck, probably guessing I would have tried to take off again if he didn't keep an eye on me. Which, of course, if my legs weren’t wobbly, I would have. Smart male.

 

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