Page 35 of Whispers and Warriors
Wrappingher fingers around the edge of the bed succeeded only in draining the blood from them as she still pitched and rolled. The ship lurched violently, tossing her like a rag doll. Ranger whimpered beside her, his amber eyes wide with fear. He’d always hated storms. She ran a soothing hand over his sleek black coat, trying to calm him even as her heart raced. He’d never liked storms, not even in the relative insulation of the basement.
The screams from above deck had sent Chris and Liam rushing out minutes ago, their faces etched with grim determination as they’d ordered her to stay put. Emma understood their need to help, to protect the group at all costs. It was a quality she both admired and envied in the men she loved. If there ever came a day they didn’t help those in need, she wasn’t sure she’d recognize them.
As the ship pitched again, Emma gritted her teeth. She hated feeling so helpless, so useless while the others risked their lives. Ranger pressed closer to her side, his warmth a small comfort amidst the chaos even if he did it seeking comfort from her, not for her.
“I can’t just sit here,” Emma muttered. She may not have the combat skills of Chris or the navigational expertise of Liam, but she refused to be a passive bystander any longer. She wouldn’t get thrown overboard, and she was strong enough to help hold things down or whatever else they needed.
Gently disentangling herself from Ranger, she realized her knees wobbled more than she’d like to admit. “Stay here, Ranger,” she commanded softly, scratching behind his ears. “I’ll be back soon.”
Ranger whined in protest as she moved toward the door, his loyalty warring with his fear. Emma paused, her hand on the latch. She couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt because of her, but if things went badly, it would be easier to get Ranger if the door wasn’t shut.
“Ranger, stay.” She repeated, uncertain just how well behaved he would be.
Ranger’s tail thumped once in understanding, his eyes never leaving her face. Emma took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. She may not be a soldier or a leader, but she was a survivor. And right now, her family needed her.
With one last nod to Ranger, Emma stepped out into the storm-tossed corridor, her stomach rolling nearly as much as the ship was.
She drove her feet into the ground, fighting against the raging storm as she walked outside. The ship’s deck transformed into wind tunnels that threatened to sweep her off her feet. Icy rain pelted her face, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision as she stumbled forward, one hand braced against the wall for support. A wall that would vanish unless she clung to the side of the ship, which she wasn’t dumb enough to do.
Within seconds the rain had drenched her, the clothing clinging to her skin. The thin fabric of her baggy shirt rendered nearly transparent by the water. A flash of self-consciousnessgripped her as she realized her breasts were likely visible through the sodden material, but she pushed the thought aside. They were tapped down, so if someone saw anything, it would be the bandage and she could pass it off as broken ribs.
Every step was harder than the one before as the water continued to drown her and weigh down her clothes. She brushed a hand over her eyes, trying to remove the water blurring her vision, her fingers numb from the biting cold leaving unable to do the task.
As she rounded a corner, the dim glow of the moon cast eerie shadows on everything. A dark figure materialized from the darkness, like a wraith emerging from the underworld. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat and her instincts screamed at her to run. Though shrouded in the shadows, he seemed taller than Bash.
He lashed a hand out, grabbing her wrist before she could process moving out of the way. His intentions became clear in the tense set of his shoulders and the predatory glint in his eyes. She could practically feel his hunger for something sinister and her body tensed, ready for a fight-or-flight response. The air grew thick with tension as they stood facing each other, neither making a move but both aware of the danger that hung between them like a heavy fog.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the howling wind. “What do we have here? A little lost lamb?”
He took a step forward, his gaze raking over Emma’s body with a hunger that made her skin crawl. She instinctively took a step back despite his hold, her eyes darting for an escape route, but the chaos of the storm would only lead her to slip.
“Stay back,” Emma warned, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound firm. “I don’t want any trouble.”
The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the metal walls. “Trouble’s already found you. And I’m sure not one to pass up a golden opportunity.”
His eyes widened as he tried to tug her closer, a leering grin splitting his face as he ran a hand down her chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re a woman! And here I thought this ship was a boys’ club. No matter, I’m not picky.”
Emma’s hand flew to her head, realizing with a sinking feeling that her hat had been lost to the storm. Her hair, now exposed, left no doubt as to her gender. She cursed inwardly, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare.
His intentions were written in the cruel twist of his lips. Emma’s back hit a side of the ship, the coldness a shock against her skin. She was trapped, alone, and utterly vulnerable as everyone else was focused on the storm. A wave crashed over them, stinging her with frigid water that burned her eyes but thankfully hadn’t gotten in her mouth to choke her.
Not again. I refuse.
She took a deep breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides, ready to face the oncoming threat with the same resilience that had carried her through the apocalypse. She may be battered and bruised, but she was far from broken. And she would not go down without a fight.
As the man’s big hands reached for her, Emma lashed out with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, her fist connecting with a satisfying crunch to his nose. His grip faltered, but only momentarily. She knew she had mere seconds before he regained his grip on her. She quickly brought up her knee, slamming it against his balls, but despite their close contact, he only chuckled.
“A real man can handle that. Likes it.”
His hand came down in a vicious slap across Emma’s face before she could react. Pain exploded in her cheek but she refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out.
Instead, she gritted her teeth and lashed out with all of her strength once again. This time, however, it wasn’t enough. The man easily overpowered her and pinned her arms above her head with one hand and let the other begin to move down her body.
“Let me go!” Emma struggled against his hold but he only laughed cruelly as his hand began to rub between her legs. Another swell of terror rolled through her, vomit dislodging quickly, but still not deterring the man.
“While disgusting as fuck, I haven’t seen a woman in months. You’re mine now.” He knocked her down, somehow protecting her head. “I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this.” His body covered hers, his disgusting erection grinding against her.
This wasn’t like with Marcus. This man wasn’t cocky or in control. He was wild and aggressive. His hands cupped her breasts she hadn’t even realized he’d freed.
