Page 41 of Trapped to Tame
He tutted. ‘Silly female. If you begin a fight,’ he hauled her to her feet, ‘you must be sure that you can win.’
He pushed her backwards hard enough that she fell on her arse, and he stood over her again. She looked at him with ill-concealed hatred and he grinned at her humiliation.
He squatted down in front of her and smiled darkly. ‘You will never win against me, female. I'll admit your strength is, perhaps, now equal to mine and the others, but you do not have the skill.’
He watched her expression tighten and then she surprised him by looking away. Was she yielding to him, he wondered, lowering his guard? He stood, his mind still thinking on that. What would it be like for this female to submit to him as a full-blooded fae female? He couldn’t help but think of the previous night when she’d writhed on his fingers for his Brothers to see.
His mind agreeably engaged with those imaginings, he didn't see it coming as she jumped to her feet and flew at him again.
He found himself onhisback and looking up at the pinkening sky. His eyes widened as he saw something coming towards them, its wings spanning three men.
He turned them both, rolling them out of the way as talons as thick as saplings struck the dark earth, sending shards of rock through the air around them.
He pulled Eve to her feet.
‘Run!’ he ordered, pulling her with him towards the boulders a short distance away. If they made it, they could lose the beast amongst the stones with help from their amulets.
The female was slowing him down so, he turned back, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. He sprinted as fast as he could, hearing its wings in the air behind them getting closer and closer. He’d never outrun it.
Priest stopped in his tracks, crouching down so that it overshot them, grabbing into the earth just in front of them. He stood, running again, and having successfully secured them precious moments as the creature had to fly up into the sky again to regain its momentum.
He reached the first boulders and put the female down. Holding both their amulets in his hands, he said a word in the old tongue. Then he took her shoulders and kept her in front of him, sitting on the ground.
‘Don't move,’ he breathed. ‘Don't speak.’
She nodded, shaking, and Priest was overcome with an urge to tuck her beneath his arm and keep her safe.
But he ignored it, stretching the muscles of his back instead. It felt as if the skin had been gouged and was already knitting back together. The great beast must have caught him, but he’d heal so quickly it wouldn’t be a problem. The female, though, had an injury on her arm somewhere. Blood was dripping down her fingers.
He put his hand on her arm, saying the words of an incantation, so that the beast could not smell her and, again, he lamented the fact that this female was half human. So vulnerable. But then, if magick truly was coming to her, he could teach her, he thought.
Why was he continually thinking about her in these future terms? She was temporary, he reminded himself, and, once they were finished with her, he was going to kill her. Wasn’t he?
She huddled by the rock, quivering underneath the outcropping where the creature could not see them. She looked as if she might retch. Her gaze was unfocused, and he whispered to get her attention.
‘Keep your mind from wandering,’ he said. ‘Do not let this realm play tricks on you.’ He tapped the side of her head and she nodded.
They could still hear the creature above them, its wings flapping in the air, searching, but he had made them invisible. Now, they simply had to wait for it to give up, which he hoped wouldn't take too long.
‘Did I really bring us here?’ she whispered, and he wasn't sure if she was talking to him, but he answered anyway.
‘Yes,’ he said just as low. ‘At the beginning, the magick will manifest at odd times. For you, it’s clearly when you are afraid. You must work to keep your emotions in check. Does your arm hurt?’
She shook her head.
He couldn't see the blood now because of the conjure he had wrought, but he knew the wound beneath her clothing continued to flow.
‘Take off your tunic,’ he told her, ‘but stay under the rocks.’
She did as he said, unbuttoning her clothes and hissing as she took off her leather jerkin. As he’d suspected, the wound on her arm was deep and bloody, but it was not life threatening. He pulled a long, thornlike shard of rock from it and tossed it away.
‘Use a piece of your chemise,’ he said, remembering how stupidly long it was.
She pulled it from her breeches and ripped a large piece from it without hesitation. He tore it in two and used one to wipe the wound, tying the other strip tightly around it to stem the blood.
‘We'll tend it properly later,’ he said, ‘when we have some supplies.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
