Page 3 of The Goddesses' Gifts

Pervy-elf and his friend led me through a confusing network of caves and visually uniform tunnels—just a series of dizzying turns in a seemingly endless labyrinth—or at least they were trying to make it seem that way. There were a couple of intersections that had enough unique markings and scents that I was sure they were one and the same. But there was no sense in letting them know that I’d caught on to their ruse.

We eventually stopped outside a heavy wooden door. Pervy-elf knocked on it and a baritone called back to them in their language. He opened the door and unceremoniously shoved me into the room.

My eyes darted around in the dull red light taking in as much of the space as I could. There was a massive table with what looked to be scrolls of maps spread across the surface. A heavy desk and sofa were the only other discernable pieces of furniture, the latter in front of an unlit fireplace. The scent of parchment and aged leather hung heavy in the air; books. It appeared as though I was in a study. A shadowy figure, Dulanzo I assumed, sat at the desk, apparently working while waiting for me. He leaned an elbow on the armrest and tilted his head as though assessing me.

The figure lifted a hand and the fireplace burst to life with red light. “I’d bid you welcome, sister, but I suspect you know the nature of your captivity.”

“Bait,” I said with a shrug. I meant to appear indifferent, but his presence was heavy … smothering. I was painfully hungry, my body ached, and to say my mind was sluggish was optimistic. The water they’d given me, and my inhuman constitution, meant I’d survived the long trek, but it wasn’t until that moment that I was truly frightened.

Dulanzo rose and stalked around the desk toward me at a measured pace—a confident predator with complete command of his territory. He was built like his brothers; long and lean with powerful shoulders. Another athlete warrior. But his facial features were difficult to discern in such dim lighting. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. His eyes appeared as pits of black in the shadows, the firelight reflecting in his pupils resembled smoldering embers. It took another heartbeat to realize it was a white, skull-like tattoo over the top half of his face that created the illusion. It was intensely creepy in the darkness, making the back of my neck prickle. It at least hid any resemblance he might have to his brothers. For that my heart was grateful.

“Yes,” he nodded and gestured to the sofa, inviting me to sit. I perched on the far end, my back rigid, while he settled in on the other. He was playing the polite host now, but the pressure of his attention was absolutely that of one stalking their prey. I had to be very careful in how I engaged with him, but he was my opponent and pride insisted I hold his gaze. It was uncomfortably intimate within seconds, but I held my ground.

“My dear brothers never got far enough from the castle walls for my scouts to collect them. Though I must say, Zelfek’s idea to bring you as bait is much more entertaining. You needn’t worry though. I won’t allow anyone else to harm you while we wait for them.”

“Why not?” I asked, my mouth getting ahead of my thoughts. They could beat me senseless, throw me in a dungeon, and still keep me as live bait.

Dulanzo cocked his head and casually gestured to my belly with a hand. “It's early. We'd hate to lose a new soldier before knowing it's worth,” he explained. Then he slid closer, though not quite touching me—his long arm draped across the back of the sofa while he leaned in closer still. Combined with the horrible pressure of his presence I felt distinctly pinned and my instincts started screaming at me to run.

I scooted back against the sofa arm and braced to fling myself over it while my eyes flicked around, searching for the nearest heavy object I could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, the space was free of any useful clutter.

He reached out with one long finger and used it to turn my face back toward him. “Look at me,” he murmured. I recoiled from his touch, breaking the contact. Then he grabbed my chin hard enough to leave bruises and gave it a rough shake. “Look at me,” he demanded with a snarl in his voice. My temper flared and I glared directly into his deep set, scarlet eyes. “There you are,” he crooned. “Now tell me, which one of my brothers got this child in you?” His tone was disapproving, as though my being with child was disgraceful somehow.

I jerked my face away from him trying to hide the fear and … inexplicable shame just under the surface of my anger. Damn him! I gritted my teeth. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

He smiled down at me and pressed a fraction closer. Reflexively, my forearm came up to brace across his chest and I raised a knee to press against his belly. He simply leaned into it, though he didn’t try to push further. Within moments I was gasping for breath to feed my waning strength. His scent was overwhelming now, inescapable … and wrong. He smelled like the caverns around us—of minerals leeching down from the surface in the ground water. It wasn’t a scent for living creatures, but he was unmistakably alive. I felt his body heat and heard the distinctive beat of his heart in the silence. It was as if he’d spent so long living in this horrible place that he had simply become part of it.

A cruel smile curled across his face; gnashing teeth bared. He released my chin and tucked a lock of damp hair behind my ear. “I know it's one of them. I can smell our magic in your pores. Is it Lobikno?” he asked and shifted to put more pressure on my pathetic defense. “Lhoris?”

I didn’t react … I didn’t know.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, and smile shifted to sharp, mocking delight. “You don’t know which. Living up to the woodland reputation for promiscuity, I see.”

He clucked his tongue, chiding me, and shook his head before lazily tracing a finger across my collarbone, down my sternum, between my breasts and laid his palm flat on my abdomen. It felt possessive and so, so wrong.

“When you’re a little further along,” he murmured with a lover’s caress in his voice, as if playing at seduction, “I’m going to come for you. I will fuck you, repeatedly. And after this baby is born,” his fingers pressed harder against my belly, “others will come fuck you. And you’ll have another child.” I went cold at the thought and my empty stomach quailed. “You’ll one day provide me with a legion,” he whispered so close I could taste his breath when I gasped.

“No,” I whispered back, fear rolling off of me in waves. While the elf that harassed me before we arrived had suggested something similar, hearing it from Dulanzo’s lips made it more than a threat.

Dulanzo ignored my answer and cocked his head. “Are you really so easily cowed? Everything about you screams fighter. How disappointing.”

What the fuck?

My temper flared again, and I spit in his face. He snarled and in the blink of an eye, his long fingers curled around my throat, choking. Better dead than a broodmare. When the arm braced against his chest gave way and he yanked me closer. I dug my nails into his wrist, but it didn’t deter him.

Painful pressure built in my head and I hardly noticed when he leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of my mouth. He released enough to let me gasp and cough, though his hand stayed at my throat. “Better,” he crooned with a smile, “but, don’t think your value as a breeding vessel means I won’t hurt you, if necessary,” he said, wiping saliva off his face. “Spit without my command again and I’ll muzzle you.”

Then he released me and reclined back into his side of the sofa. I bolted like a drunken rabbit, careening into the table in pure panic, before reaching the door and yanking it open.

Running was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. Dulanzo seemed content to watch me flee though, like a cat that knows the mouse is good and trapped … free to play with me for as long as he wants before getting to the kill.

My limbs gave out completely in the hallway and I fell to my knees in front of pervy-elf and his friend. They looked bored while they hauled me to my feet and took orders from Dulanzo in their tongue. I recognized their word for food and my stomach snarled audibly. They dragged me to the kitchen and gave me a modest meal of mushrooms and bread. I shoveled food into my mouth and gulped water down like an animal, moaning in pleasure at the filling of my stomach. Then I was just exhausted and wilted into the chair.

It was only then I felt the pressure of three sets of eyes on me. My two escorts and the cook noticed my inattention. My exhaustion. They probably even sensed the fear that lingered about me. I straightened in my seat and met their gazes, one at a time. I am not prey.

Pervy-elf stepped to the side and, with a mocking bow and sweeping gesture of his hand, invited me to leave my seat.

I wasn’t entirely sure I could, but the alternative … I edged off the seat and, powered by pure spite, remained standing.

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