by Denali Day
Sven watched her with a hawk’s intensity. Impressive considering how very swollen his eyes were. As she peeled back the layers of her clothes, Colette dimly heard her mother’s voice screeching at her to stop and consider what she was doing. Uncertainty made her hesitate just as the first chill of cool air licked her bared skin. Her gaze floated downward.
The expression on Sven’s face immediately banished any and all shame. He looked like a prince on coronation day. Colette’s body began burning from the inside out. With a smirk on her face, she pressed her shoulders back and reveled when his eyes widened. He muttered something in his language that she had a distinct impression was wildly complimentary.
“Like what you see, savage?”
Were those her words? Bold as she was, Colette had never considered herself a trollop. When Sven nodded frantically, she decided she could get used to this hat. His hands were twitching at his sides, but he either couldn’t or wouldn’t bring them up where she knew they itched to be. Licking her lips, she took him by the wrist and drew his hand up to the center of her stomach.
As she expected, his fingertips continued crawling an upward path. Her body shivered, though she couldn’t be certain if it was from his touch or the toxin coursing through her. She sighed all the same, basking in the sensation. Instead of stopping to graze the swell of a breast, Sven went on between them and fingered the spot just above her heart.
“Oh, mu hamma.” His voice was deep and husky. “If I had my knife, I’d mark you right now.”
Colette choked on a breath, her face went slack. “What?”
Sven closed his eyes on a contented smile, seemingly oblivious to her sudden alarm. “You’re mine. I’ll make sure everyone can see. Soon enough.”
Colette shoved his hand away and tossed herself off his body, landing hard on her rear. “What in the swiving hells are you talking about?”
His eyes still closed, Sven’s smile remained. He shifted on the ground as though getting comfortable for sleep.
Colette reared a leg back and kicked him in the side. “Sven!”
He didn’t even twitch. Instead, he mumbled in his language, adding at the end, “You’ll forgive me…eventually.” Then, he began to snore.
Colette stared at him in a lucid daze, sobriety descending upon her like the claws of his cursed wyvern. Mark her? With his knife? Gods, was he being serious? Colette thought of the dozens of scars he wore across his own body, and her stomach dropped like a stone. As she snapped the front of her dress closed, one thought screamed above the rest.
Oh hells, no!
Va kreesha.
Sven groaned against the throbbing ache in his head. His eyes cracked open, breaking a seal of sleep. For once, he was grateful for his shadowy surroundings, and, at least, the trees had stopped spinning. He flexed his fingers then hissed. He’d been lying on his axe arm, and the limb was alight with the burn of pins and needles. Glanshi.
The smell of damp earth filled his nose and the sound of water running nearby brought Sven’s senses to full awareness. Clarity struck him, making him forget his aches and pains. Where was Colette? He threw himself upward, nearly striking the ground between his legs with his head. He pressed a palm to his skull and whipped a glance all around him.
She was there, sitting on the ground across from him. She looked very much as she had the first time he’d woken in her presence, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her elbows propped against them. Just like that first day, her eyes flashed at him with ominous intent. Despite that look, his shoulders eased.
Safe.
A muscle tightened in his jaw. Was this woman incapable of following even the simplest of instructions? Would it cause her heart to stop cold in her chest? They could have both died while lying here and who knew how many hours they’d lost in the meantime. He swallowed, trying to tamp down his rising anger. They’d survived. That was the important thing.
Colette arched a brow at him. “What did you dream about?”
“Witless women.”
“Is that all? Are you sure?”
He scowled, rubbing the blood back into his dormant arm. “Isn’t that enough?”
Colette tilted her head with an odd emotion riddled on her face that Sven struggled to name. Mischief? Temper? Embarrassment? Memories began leaking through the rubble of his still-dizzy mind. A pulse of heat warmed his blood. Surely that had been a dream.
“Did you…” His gaze fell to her chest.
“Yes?” Her voice was all innocence.
He leaned back on his palms and allowed a knowing smile to slither across his face.
Colette blushed, confirming his sweet recollection. His little storen had flashed her very impressive feathers for him. That explained her dour attitude. Now the danger had passed, Sven could almost be glad for the little delay. He’d never let her live this down.
Serves the she-devil right.
He cocked his head. “Well, I did try to warn you.”
“Mmm.” She nodded. Though her cheeks were red, her eyes remained icy cold. “And here I’ve been thinking you should have warned me about you.”
Sven shrugged and cast around for his axe. “I do believe that little show was your idea. All the more gratifying for me.”
“Oh, Sven, I can’t imagine you were truly satisfied.”
“I assure you, I was.”
“Really? Even without a dagger to cut me up?”
Sven’s neck stiffened then swung round to where she sat crouching. Her face was plain as a blanket of freshly fallen snow.
Dread crawled up his stiffening spine. “What did I tell you?”
She raised her chin. “Guess.”
Kreesha.
He wasn’t ready to deal with this. Not right now. He threw his gaze to the side. “Where’s my axe?”
She tossed a nonchalant look around the clearing. “I’m not sure I remember.”
“Colette, tell me where it is. Now.”
Her impassivity slid away like molted scales. “If you think I’m about to lend you steel anywhere but your throat after what you said to me today, you’re as crazy as you look.”
“Damn it, woman! Haven’t you done enough? You’re going to get us both killed.”
This was not the time or place for this conversation. There was a reason why this subject was addressed early and as quickly as possible between a Dokiri and his bride. Like setting a bone, the worst could be dealt with from the onset, the relationship only improving from there.
Colette jumped to her feet and charged across the clearing to where he was sitting. Arms on her hips, she glared down at him. “Explain yourself, savage.”
His instincts told him to stand. The wiser part of his mind told him now was not the time to challenge his little firebrand. Mouth flattening, he stared up at her. “When a Na Dokiri claims a bride, he must make her acceptable to our gods before presenting her to our people. When I claimed you, I’d been prepared to take you to Amo Tanshi, the bonding place.”
“What exactly does bonding entail?”
“I carve a mark into my chest, over my heart.”
She stood perfectly still, her posture tight. “And?”
Time to set the bone.
“And also one over yours.”
He could see the wheels of her mind turning, her temper building with each furious spin.
“And if a woman were to refuse?”
He shook his head. “There is no refusing a Na Dokiri his bride.”
“Of course, because it’s your right.”
He could imagine how that sounded to a lowlander, but she didn’t know what he knew. Hadn’t seen what he’d seen. He grimaced, trying to think of how to explain. She didn’t give him the chance.
“So your people steal innocent women into the mountains, rip off their clothes, and force a knife into their breasts? Is that about right?”
“It’s not like that.” Not exactly like that.
“Then what is it like? Because that’s the image you�
�ve painted.”
He climbed to his feet, relieved she didn’t step away. “You’re not supposed to hear about it like this.”
She dropped her head back, looking him fully in the eye. She was so brave. “You mean not until you’ve got me at your mercy? Skies, Sven, why should I ever trust you?”
“Colette, whatever I said before—”
“What? That you’ll carve me up nice and good to make sure everyone knows you own me?”
Sven flinched, his jaw going slack. No. He couldn’t truly have said that. It wasn’t possible. Even so, doubt flickered within him, igniting a firestorm of indignation. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had just obeyed me.”
“Right. Of course, because gods forbid your woman think for herself. Or should I say your chattel?”
Sven raked a hand through his hair. “I’d be happy if you’d think at all. Good gods, Colette, you’re as reckless as a child! You don’t need a master—you need a keeper.”
Hurt flashed across her grey-blue eyes. “Lucky me, if we wed, I could get both, and a husband for good measure. I’m only sorry you’ll be stuck with an ignorant child for a bride.”
A pang of regret twisted in his gut. This disaster was fast hitting legendary proportions. Could he have handled things any worse? Maybe, if he threw his entire soul into it. Idiot. He sighed, hanging his head as he tried to rally his thoughts. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Never again. You’re right, after all. I think this has been good for both of us. Now you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“And what’s that?”
“There are plenty of other women out there for you to claim. I suggest you alter your plans regarding me. You’re not up to the task.”
“The hell I’m not.”
Before she could blink, Sven closed the distance between them.
8
Sven caught her by the waist and jerked her body against his. Colette’s mouth fell open on a gasp of outrage. Was he mad? She started to ask him only to have her words swallowed up by the press of his lips on hers.
Colette’s body went totally still, shock stalling all rational thought from her mind. Her savage had her in his arms. A sudden flood of sensation overwhelmed her.
His fingertips drew their way up her sides, the clasp of his hands nearly encircling her entire waist. The stubble of his beard tickled her skin. His body was full of warmth and hard planes. The scent of him was all male, heady and intoxicating. Colette’s eyes slid shut. His lips were surprisingly soft yet unyielding as they moved across hers, exploring. One of his hands released her waist only to trail up her spine and press the back of her head forward, further deepening the caress. Colette sighed then shivered as he took her breath into his lungs.
Her first real kiss.
Gods, he felt good. He pulled a hair’s breadth away, sucking in air. All at once, she needed to see him, to know if he looked the way she felt. Her eyes cracked hazily open to meet his languid gaze. Colette blinked at him, her skin soaking up his heat even as realization sunk its teeth into her mind.
She jerked away and sent an open palm careening across his handsome face. The resulting slap echoed off the nearby trees. She clutched her palm to her chest, wincing at the sting.
Sven barely flinched, though he gaped at her as if stunned. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“That’s for certain.” She whirled away, determined to hide her flagellating emotions. What just happened? Why had she let him kiss her? Why had she made him stop? Her body hummed with hot energy. She tugged a hand down her braid, trying to decide what to do. She spun. “Is this it then? You would have me resign myself to your plans for me? Your wishes? To hell with what I want? Just so long as you get your prize?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“You don’t even want me, Sven. I’m simply convenient for you.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? Really? And I’m to believe that after the things you’ve said?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze snapped toward the trees, away from the creek.
Colette planted her hands on her hips. “Nothing to say?”
He didn’t move. “Be quiet.”
Was he shushing her? “Are you serious?”
No response.
Enraged, she darted beside the nearby thicket and extricated his axe. With effort, she tossed it on the ground near him. Let him have whatever he wanted then. “Here’s your pretty axe.”
“Damn it, Colette. Be silent.”
She opened her mouth to shout back. Then, she heard it.
A voice, a man’s, calling in the distance. “Colette!”
She tensed. Was that...her name? She lunged toward the trees. From the corner of her vision, she saw Sven’s arm shooting out to grab her. She sidestepped him, plunging forward.
“Colette!” His voice was thick with urgency, but it remained low, as though he was trying to keep his silence.
Colette ignored him. After a moment, she could hear the thunder of his footfalls behind her. Her back straightened just as his fingers brushed at her spine. Her burst of speed kept her just out of his reach.
He stumbled behind. “Stop!”
She blew past the same scraggly branches that had looked so ominous before. They whipped at her face, slicing her skin as she ran. Had her father come for her? Her brothers? Within minutes, she could be out of this godsforsaken forest. Safe. Sven probably knew that, and he was doing all he could to stop her. She charged through another thicket toward the voice.
Her foot caught on something, a raised tree root, and, suddenly, she was flying to the cold ground. She grunted, barely catching herself with her hands and knees. She threw a glance over her shoulder, desperate to keep out of Sven’s reach. The snapping of branches reclaimed her attention to what was right in front of her. An otherworldly noise made the hairs on her neck spike on end.
A deep trilling sent a tremor through her limbs. She raised her eyes to its source. Up. Up.
Dear gods.
Extending an impossibly long and gaunt leg, a horror from Colette’s nightmares slunk from the shadows of the trees. It was shaped like a man, but too tall, too thin. Its limbs were sharp and so emaciated, they appeared little more than blood-streaked bone. And yet, somehow, the creature vibrated a raw, primitive strength. What she’d assumed were the branches of trees were actually two sets of twisted horns connected to the skull of some beastly animal. They moved with the monster who wore the skull like a mask, shrouding its features but for the glowing hollows of two ghostly eyes. Brujit.
Colette threw herself back on her haunches and scrambled backward to rise. A row of bleach-white fangs flashed in a macabre grin from beneath the skull’s shade. They snapped at her. Like a flash of lightning, it lunged. She didn’t even have time to scream.
Something hit the back of her head, folding her forward. A shadow flew over her toward the creature’s outstretched claws. Sven roared, axe in hand and swinging upward. The monster’s gaze jumped to Sven just as shining steel tore through the fingers of one hand. An unearthly howl exploded from the creature’s throat. Colette’s hands shot to cover her ears just as the monster’s other hand slashed from the opposite side.
“Sven!” Colette’s cry was mute in her ears as she watched her savage try and fail to dodge the oncoming swipe. Blood misted the air as Sven’s entire body spiraled, sending him to his knees. Before Colette could react, the brujit sprinted away with a shriek, clutching its severed fingers to its chest.
With a cry, Colette lurched forward to where Sven kneeled in the dirt. His axe had landed head end into the dirt, the only thing keeping him upright.
“Sven! Oh, gods.” She was gasping, tears of terror streaking down her face. He didn’t move, only trembled with his eyes squeezed shut. The front of his hide coat hung open in four raking gashes, blood oozing from each line. Colette clutched his arms and shook him. “Sven, get up! We have to get you away from
here.”
He began to shiver, a cold sweat already breaking out across his brow.
Colette gripped him like she could tether him to this plane. She lowered her voice, pleading. “Sven?”
His dark eyes cracked open and fixed on her. “Are you hurt?”
She choked on a sob and threw her arms around him. He groaned, and she released him as quickly as she’d grabbed him. His blood now stained the front of her jacket.
“Come on.” She climbed to her feet and pulled on his arm, prepared to drag him if that was what it took. “We have to move before you faint.”
Bringing one knee up, he wobbled to his feet, using his axe for balance. “I don’t faint. Let’s go.”
He wasn’t fine. Couldn’t be. There was so much blood. And yet, he plodded on. Colette kept hold of his arm as they went, afraid he would fall. There would be no stopping him if he did, but still, she clung. They followed the sound of water, eventually finding their way back to the creek bank.
“Should we get back in?” Her instincts railed at the very idea. Colette ignored them.
“It’s...too late for that,” Sven panted.
Colette slowed, turning him toward her. “Let me see.”
Wincing, Sven began to shrug out of his coat. Colette helped him, all but ripping the sleeves off his arms. She held her breath as they pulled up his blood-soaked tunic. The air left her lungs in a woosh.
“They’re not deep.” Relief flooded her senses, making her dizzy. Or was that the blood? She ripped the shirt over his head and wadded it against the claw marks. Sven hissed as she pushed him to the ground and forced pressure against the wounds.
“Gods, Sven, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
He looked at her, brows drawn tight. “I should have known it was still following us. I should have warned you they can mimic human voices.”
