by Denali Day
So the stories must be true. She picked up her pace. Sven continued to whistle, the tension in his shoulders building with every unanswered call. Finally, he tossed her hand away.
“Damn you, woman. Thanks to you and that asinine oath, my mount’s gone too far away to hear us.”
Colette’s lips thinned, but she kept moving. “It’s not as if you hold your oaths sacred. Obviously.”
“Do you want to be eaten?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Neither do I. But that’s what’s going to happen if we don’t find a way out of this damn forest soon.”
Eaten. He said it so matter-of-factly. Colette’s blood turned cold at the image. She didn’t acknowledge his words. Couldn’t.
“And if your mount had shown up? What would you have done then, hmm?”
“I would have taken us back to my home in Bedmeg.”
She scoffed, putting on a burst of speed so she could throw a scowl at him over her shoulder. “Oh, so you wouldn’t even have tried to honor your oath? Not even the spirit of it?”
He glared back at her, and she could see his fist clenching around the handle of his macabre axe. Was she getting to him?
“I don’t know why I’m even the slightest bit surprised. You kidnapped me once already. Apparently, honor isn’t high on your list of priorities.”
“It’s my right to claim you, and I don’t have time to go looking for another bride.”
Heat rose up in Colette’s face as well as something else. Hurt. That was his opinion of her? Was she interchangeable with any other woman? Yesterday, she could have sworn she’d made an impression on him. Hadn’t she earned a modicum of his respect? Not that it should matter. But, by the gods, it had pleased her to think that a man, especially one as handsome as Sven, might be impressed, even attracted to her wildness. How refreshing and…intriguing. Now that satisfaction wilted like a blossom held up to the flame.
She swallowed hard and gritted her teeth. “And here I thought I’d been making it clear as glass that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“You’re troublesome, alright. But I’ve invested too much time in you at this point. You’ll suit my purposes well enough.”
Humiliation welled in a knot at her throat. Had she really been charmed by this heathen just last night? Maybe mother was right. Perhaps she did lack judgment. “Oh, savage, if you think I’ve been difficult thus far, you haven’t seen anything yet! I swear I’ll make you regret the day you ever laid eyes on me.”
“Too late.” He nudged her forward. “Hurry up.”
She wanted to dig her heels in the ground just to gainsay him, but she remembered that otherworldly howling and kept moving. There would be time to make him suffer, after they were out of danger. And she would make him suffer.
Some of the pressure in Sven’s chest eased as the cobalt light filtering through the trees brightened to a dull grey. He was unusually irritable and unsure why. Probably because he was being hunted like a rabbit with this spitfire of a woman in tow. What had started as a dangerous trek had morphed into an all-out race for survival. What had he been thinking, agreeing not to call his mount?
You weren’t thinking. Not with your head, at least.
It was true. Sure, the little firebrand had forced an oath on him, but he had no great qualms in breaking such a pointless promise. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d planned to set her free once they’d escaped the forest. So what had been the point of all this? Hiking on, he rolled his eyes at himself.
He’d wanted to impress her. And what man wouldn’t? He’d been tricked and effectively dominated by a tiny temptress who’d had the nerve to make demands of him. Of him. Sven had never met anyone like her and was certain he never would again.
Shame and irritation had nettled him since the moment he’d woken in her clutches. What must she think of him? She’d had so little trouble managing what was supposed to be her own claiming. Yesterday, it had seemed worth the risk to show her exactly what he was capable of and, if he was being honest, to reclaim some of his injured pride. But now? His foolishness might have cost them their very lives. Utterly idiotic.
Now that he could see clearly through the shadows, Sven began to slow, diverting his path toward the sound of the nearby stream. He peered over the edge of the embankment at the moving water. The surface reflected the minimal light with an inky sheen that marbled as it ran. The bed was perhaps twenty feet across. Hopefully not too deep. He tossed down his axe and began to undo the fastenings of his coat.
Colette came up behind him, her arms bound across her chest. “What are you doing?”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?”
Sven inhaled sharply, trying to ignore the obstinate clip in her tone. “Or don’t. I don’t care.”
Not entirely honest.
“But we’re going to be walking through the stream, so it’d be better if you did. Else you’ll be sleeping in a wet coat tonight. Assuming we survive that long.”
“I’m not getting in the water.”
Sven paused, jaw clicking. “The brujit is intelligent. It will follow our tracks. The water will hide them. Our scent, too. We’ll walk a few hours then get out when we find a rock bank.”
“I can’t swim.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“Go splash about if it pleases you. I’ll walk along the edge.”
Sven was fast losing hold on what little patience he had left. He turned fully toward her, his stance wide. “Take off your coat, Colette.”
She looked him in the eye. “No.”
“We don’t have time for your antics.”
“And I didn’t have time to be kidnapped. But here I am.”
His voice dropped low in warning, “Don’t test me, woman.”
She jutted her chin.
The little vixen was asking for it, and right then, he was all too willing to give it to her. “Fine.”
Sven lunged for her, and she threw herself backward, trying to escape his outstretched arms. As they fell, Sven caught her by the hem of her riding dress. He could hear the air leaving her lungs as she collided with the ground. Clamping his fist around her ankle, he dragged her forward across the dirt-packed ground. He looked up just in time to see the bottom of her other boot careening into his face.
“Va kreesha!” Sven released her, his hands flying to cover his broken nose. He roared as the little shrew turned over and scrambled away. A rush of fury made him forget his blood-smattered face. He lifted himself to his hands and knees and launched himself forward, just missing her.
Now she was on her feet and running like the mountain wind. She would regret that.
He was up in a second and closing in on her after a few more. Sven could tell she knew what was about to happen. Her hand went to her knife belt. He charged, catching that hand in one of his own and using his other arm to snatch her about the waist. Spinning them both, he caught the impact of their fall. The knife went flying out of her fist. Colette screamed, and Sven loosened his grip, only for her to flip in his arms and start scratching at him like the hell-cat she was.
“Colette, stop!”
She didn’t.
He tried to grab her wrists, but she was swinging them madly. Right about the time he caught a fist in the throat, Sven decided to roll her. He took an inordinate amount of satisfaction in hearing her grunt as his weight settled over her. It was short-lived. She threw a knee into his groin.
Sven groaned, his entire body seizing in pain.
Colette threw herself to the side, trying to scoot out from beneath him. Pointless. He weighed too much. She screamed her frustration, and Sven clapped a palm over her mouth.
“Quiet! Are you insane?”
She bit him.
Damn her. Enough was enough. Keeping a hold on her, he climbed to his feet and snapped her over his shoulder. Her red-blonde hair went flying as she folded against his body and immediately began thrashing. Somehow, he managed to belt his axe with one hand whil
e keeping ahold of his bride with the other.
“Put me down! Put me down, you—”
Sven didn’t recognize the next several words that came pouring from her pretty little mouth, but he comprehended their meaning just fine. She started to yank on his hair. With his free hand, he gave her rump a slap and grinned wickedly at her shriek of rage. He started off toward the creek. Hiking through the forest in wet clothes wasn’t ideal, but knowing the little she-demon on his back would be suffering the same made his fate acceptable.
As Sven climbed down the slope, Colette fought him like a woman possessed. He ignored her. The chill of the water was far too icy for summer. When her feet touched the surface, he nearly lost his grip.
“Sven! Stop!” She twisted and struck. She was aiming for his groin again.
“Damn it, woman! Must everything be war with you?”
Sven leapt into the center of the creek, knowing the chest-deep water would rob her momentum for such a vicious attack. Colette gasped, her entire body going still. Stunned by the cold, no doubt. At least her legs were all that was in it. Sven huffed in victory and started walking with the current.
Out of nowhere, Colette began weeping. Her whole body shook with it. “Sven, please! Stop. Take me back!”
Her hands, which had been slapping and scratching at him only moments before, were now gripping his shoulders with white-knuckled intensity. Her arms went straight, elbows locking as she pressed herself away from his back. She turned her tear-streaked face up to the stunted canopy, away from the water’s dark surface.
Sven’s stride slowed. What was this? Another trick? Did the woman have no shame? His aching balls reminded him she did not. He gave her a shake.
“Quiet! You’re going to draw every damn creature in this forest.”
“Sven.” She choked on a sob. “I’m begging you, please take me back! I’ll do anything you ask. Anything.”
He frowned. That didn’t sound right. Suddenly, he remembered the odd look she had yesterday when she’d been about to get a drink and told him not to pull her in. Something in her eyes had struck him as more than mild concern that he’d try to get revenge on her for childish shenanigans. She’d said she couldn’t swim. Was she afraid of water?
He tugged on her thighs, pulling her waist down into the current, so he could better see her face. She shoved her fingers into his scalp and squeezed his head to her chest, effectively smothering him with her breasts. He strained for air as she snaked her legs around his body, crushing his ribs. He struggled to get his hands between their bodies.
“Colette, relax!”
She didn’t. In fact, she somehow tensed further. Her limbs shook, though he couldn’t tell if it was from strain or fear. Her body heaved on gaping pants as though she expected to lose the power of breath at any moment. He stopped trying to peel her away.
“Easy, woman. Easy.”
Her cries picked up again. “Please, Sven. Please.”
The woman was terrorized. No wonder she’d fought him. He’d thought she was simply being contrary. He swallowed the guilt stinging the back of his throat. If he’d known, he would have gone about this differently. Should he take her back to the bank?
He started to turn then stopped himself. Nothing had changed. They were still being hunted, and they were still in mortal danger. He had to get her to safety. For now, that meant sticking to his plan. But how was he going to get her through this?
Sven slid his arms around her back and tucked her more securely over his hips. The movement drew her closer to the waterline and a strangled moan rose up out of her throat.
He murmured into her ear, “Shh. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
She whimpered and continued attempting to scurry up his body. Sven held her in place with a lock-arm grip, careful not to hurt her. He was going to be carrying her for a while, and he needed her low in the water where he wouldn’t fatigue and, more importantly, where he could watch where he was going.
“I can’t swim,” she cried, the hitch in her voice making her sound far younger than she was.
“I’ve got you.”
“Please take me back. Please.”
“I will, mu hamma. As soon as we’re safe, I will.”
She buried her face into his neck. Sven could feel the heat of her tears on his skin. He started to stroke at her water-corded hair but stopped when she gave another whimper. From that point on, he kept his hands planted firmly around her body and stuck to nuzzling her with the bearded side of his face. They waded on through the water and all the while he whispered soft encouragements against the shell of her ear.
At some point, he remembered that she’d broken his nose and that even now he might still have blood on his chin. Shouldn’t he be a little angry? He wasn’t. He was aroused. That was hardly surprising considering the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. But it was more than that. Colette holding on to him like this, as if he were all that was keeping her well and sane, was oddly satisfying.
Eventually, her breathing began to even out. The water was cold, but the warmth shared between them kept things bearable. Colette relaxed in his arms, her temple sagging against his shoulder.
“That’s it. I have you. Try to rest.”
She sighed. “You’re such a bastard.”
There was no sting in her words, and Sven had to smile. “I’m still not putting you down.”
She scoffed but said nothing.
The better part of another hour went by and, finally, she succumbed to sleep. Her slender muscles eased around him. The half-night’s rest had done little for her, and fighting him had surely sapped what energy she’d gained. It was just as well. He’d carry her like this for hours, and not only because he had to.
Suddenly, he realized exactly what had been eating at him. It wasn’t that Colette was unsuitable for him, it was because he’d been unconvinced he was suitable for her. Did a woman like her need anyone? Need him?
Apparently, she did. At least, sometimes.
Excitement fluttered in his stomach, and he tightened his hold on her.
That’s enough for me.
6
Colette watched as Sven tossed a few more sticks onto the tiny fire they’d built. The heat of the flames licked at her damp under-shift, raising goosebumps on her legs. The serendipitous cave they’d found was narrow but deep enough they didn’t fear drawing predators with the flicker of the light.
Most of their clothes lay out on the ground as close to the fire as possible. Hopefully, they’d be drier by morning. With Sven’s torso bare, Colette didn’t even try to conceal her fascination as she gaped at those intricate scars. She could see Sven watching her from the corner of his eye and didn’t miss the subtle flexing of his muscles as he moved about their tiny shelter.
“What are they?” she asked.
“My idadi. My people mark ourselves for every kill we make.”
The man had dozens and dozens of marks. Glancing away, Colette sucked the last of the coyote fat from her fingers, surprised at how good it tasted. Room and board—all in the same tiny den. It was the only thing to have gone right today. Well, not so much for the former residents. She’d have to wash her bloodied arrows in the morning. Without looking up, she feigned casualty. “What kind of kills?”
“Yeti, imps, blood-seekers.” He shrugged. “A variety of things.”
Was he being serious? Those were not common prey. Most who’d seen the likes of them didn’t live to tell the tale. Suddenly, the idea of victory scars didn’t seem so extreme. Still. “Doesn’t it hurt like hell?”
Sven snatched up a rock and began digging a hole for the coyote carcass. “We grow accustomed to it.”
He was a hard man. That much was obvious. Had so much bloodshed darkened his soul? He was an ass to be sure, but was he also cruel? Colette wrapped an arm around her knees.
“Which marks are for the men you’ve killed?”
He paused, glancing at her fr
om across the fire. “I haven’t killed any men.”
“Would you?”
Sven resumed digging. “If I had cause.”
“Such as?”
“If I feared death. Mine or that of someone I loved.”
Fair enough.
Colette considered everything she’d learned about him today. Before, she’d thought him a domineering brute. Now she knew he was a domineering brute who also possessed a gentle side. He’d recognized the danger they were in, acted quickly and decisively. He could have left her behind the moment she’d begun to slow him down. It would have been wiser. Instead, he’d fought her tooth-and-nail, enduring a broken nose and bloodied hand, just to keep her safe. How wholly impressive.
Damn him.
His task complete, Sven scooted around the fire to where she was sitting.
Colette released her legs and stretched her toes toward the flame.
When he was seated right beside her, Sven turned and raised himself onto his knees. Without a word, he swung an arm and a leg over hers and paused so he was crouching directly in her face.
Colette began to stiffen, but the devilish glint twinkling in his gaze compelled her not to give him a reaction. She forced herself not to lean away, and instead stared right back into those dark eyes, arching a brow for good measure. A moment passed, and the crackling of the fire behind him was all she could hear.
He huffed, a rueful grin playing at his lips as he settled himself on her other side, between her and the cave’s entrance. “Time for sleep. Do you want to go first again?”
Colette glanced toward the narrow opening. “Do you think we lost the brujit?”
“We can hope.”
“I’ll stay awake.” She paused, thinking of his words to her yesterday. “Since I already had such a refreshing nap today.”
Colette caught a flash of something that looked like shame cross his expression as he lay flat next to her. Maybe the barbarian had a conscience after all. Colette wedged a hand on the ground and stared down at him. “Your people, the Dokiri, they don’t go to war?”
