Page 11 of Trapped to Tame
Priest
As they walkedthrough the Dark Army Camp, Priest wished again that they'd come directly here instead of following Drax’s obscure visions to that fucking town after they’d escaped the capital, but it had not been his decision. He was no longer in command of their unit. Drax was.
At least they wouldn’t have to worry about Greygor, the Commander who’d made them leave the Army for being what they were. That bastard was dead; killed by his own men. Fitting for that fae-hating cunt. Priest only hoped the new Commander was a little more open-minded than his predecessor had been.
It was an odd coincidence that the female had come here though. She couldn’t know that they were tied to this place, could she? They hadn’t worn their Brothers’ blacks since the day they’d got the bird that told them Greygor would have them slain if they ever set foot in his camp again.
They kept their eyes open for her. Laughably, it seemed as if she’d tried to hide her tracks this time, but she didn’t have the skills that they did. She was definitely here somewhere. Gods only knew what she was trying to accomplish by walking straight into the Dark Army’s Camp.
‘Do you really think she's here?’ Fie asked from behind him.
‘She's here,’ Priest muttered, ‘and I have an idea of where. You and Drax go see the Commander. See if he’ll reinstate us. I’ll find the female and bring her.’
He thought Drax might argue, put Priest in his place for trying to give orders now that he was second-in-command, but he didn’t. He simply inclined his head and he and Fie went off to the heart of the Camp where the Commander's tent would be.
Priest, on the other hand, made his way directly to the fighting rings. That was where she would be. He knew it. Humans were creatures of habit, after all. Gods help her when he found her. The days they'd wasted tracking the bitch! They could have been halfway to the Underhill by now, closer to finding out what had happened to their brethren. But, no, they were traipsing around this fucking realm looking for a foolish female who couldn't follow simple instructions.
His eyes narrowed. He’d teach her a thing or two before the day was over about doing as she was bid by her betters. He walked amongst the rings. Some men were practicing with their opponents, others were clearly fighting to the death. Soldiers, Brothers, and some Rats meandered around. It was relatively quiet, but it was still early in the evening. Crowds wouldn't come to watch until later.
His ears perked up as he heard a feminine voice and he smiled in anticipation, walking in that direction, and immediately finding the tiny female in an argument with one of the trainers.
‘I shan't let you fight, woman.’ the trainer rasped. ‘Now, fuck off before I give you to the soldiers to entertain after their fights.’
Priest watched as Eve drew herself up, practically growling at him, but the man was as unmoved as a wolf would be when faced with a pup.
‘I wish to join the Brothers. They told me this was the only way.’
The trainer guffawed loudly. ‘Join the Brothers?’ He laughed again. ‘None of the men here will stoop so low as to fight a—’
Priest stepped forward. ‘I'll fight her,’ he said casually, stepping into the ring as if this were a chance encounter.
In truth, he was anything but unconcerned by this turn of events. The foolish, unclaimed girl was about to get herself thrown into one of the pleasure tents, and there wasn't a fucking thing he'd be able to do about it once that happened. Did she not understand the risks that she had taken by coming here alone? He seethed, itching to punish the wayward woman.
‘The fuck are you doing here?’ she ground out low.
He didn't bother to give her an answer, just took up a stance in the ring. He glanced at the trainer to call the fight and, when he did, Priest decided to give her a chance. Well, make her think she had a chance at any rate. It would be all the sweeter when he beat the fight out of her.
But, as she began to move around him, he realized that, though her technique was rough, she had definite skill. It wasn’t simply her fae side that had got her this far. If she honed her talents, she would be a formidable fighter even amongst their kind. Perhaps she still wouldn't be as strong as a full-blood, but he could teach her to make use of the strength she did have, to be strategic in the way that she fought.
He let out a breath, wondering what he was thinking of. He did not want to teach this female anything!
She came for him, and, in a moment of stupidity, he thought she was going to strike him with a fist. He blocked accordingly. So, when her boot slammed into his sternum, he staggered back a few steps, startled. There were not many who could surprise him.
He heard men on the side sniggering and just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. As if he gave a fuck what those pathetic humans thought, Brothers or no.
She came close again and did try to catch him with a strike to the face. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, heaving her off balance. She gave a small cry as he turned her around and flung her to the ground. He was rough and merciless as he threw himself on top of her, grabbing her wrists and pulling them above her head, immobilizing her completely.
She only grunted though it must pain her as his much larger body crushed hers into the packed dirt of the ring. Still, she tried to get her leg out from underneath, attempted to lever herself up to throw him on his back instead. He knew her tricks, though, and she never had a chance considering her slight build. But she didn’t stop, didn’t give up, writhing beneath him in her endeavors to escape.
For the first time in a long time, Priest felt the stirrings of arousal. Disgusted, he pulled himself – and her – up. Why should this halfling female incite such passions in him? It was a fucking joke.
He twisted her arms around her back roughly, enjoying the sound of her stifled, pained cry. She was angry, struggling still. He grabbed her by her dirty, brown hair, using it to help keep her subdued.
The trainer looked amused. He did not speak to Eve again, instead addressing Priest.
‘You won. Fair's fair. Spoils go to the tents,’ he said. ‘I'll leave you to decide which one.’
Priest nodded once, as if it was indeed his intention to take her to one of the pleasure tents.
