Page 24 of What Fury Brings
“Told you he’d run off the first time you left him alone.” Ydra.
“You did.”
“It wasn’t your lack of charm. He’s a Brute. They’re taught to hate us. You picked the most difficult man for housebreaking.”
“To impress the court!” Olerra defended.
“I know. I’m just saying, don’t expect to work miracles after your first conversation with him.”
They were getting closer, and he made his fingers work faster. Until he saw a pair of sandals right next to his head. He paused. Held his breath.
“Where do you think he went?” Ydra asked.
“He couldn’t have climbed with his feet bound. He’s either behind a tree trunk or tucked under some shrubs. Can I borrow your bow?”
“Sure.”
They walked on. Sanos finally made it through the last of the fibers. His hands were free, but he couldn’t reach his feet in this position. He counted to thirty, then rolled back out of the brambles, earning himself some more scratches.
Olerra was there. She’d moved out of his direct line of sight but no farther. She’d known exactly where he was.
Shit.
Sanos ran as fast as the ropes would let him, which wasn’t much better than a walk. If he could just get to the horses. Behind a tree. Something!
As he hobbled, he didn’t hear any sounds of pursuit, so he turned his head.
She took aim with the arrow and loosed.
He braced himself for pain—and then tripped.
His hands took the brunt of the fall, and when he tried to rise, he found he couldn’t get his feet under him.
Because he hadn’t tripped at all.
She’d shot the ropes between his ankles, pinning him to the ground. He couldn’t even roll onto his back until she retrieved the arrow. When she did, he planted his ass on the ground and stared up at her.
Olerra spun the arrow over her fingers in such a way that suggested she was very familiar with the weapon, as though the shot hadn’t already proven that.
“Let’s get something clear, Prince. I have claimed you. That means you belong to me now. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But make no mistake, our fates are bound together from now on. You can fight all you like, but you’re not going home. And by the time I’m done with you?”
She crouched next to him, gave him a heated perusal.
“You won’t want to.”
Olerra pulled the cart to the side of the road even though there was still more sunlight illuminating the path ahead. She was restless, and sitting for hours at a time was not natural for her. She needed to move before she went mad.
Ydra didn’t ask questions, no doubt sensing what she needed already, as she often did. Her friend started to make camp while Olerra dealt with her new man.
Andrastus snored lightly from the bed of the cart. She was relieved to see him finally sleeping. He’d done very little so far, and she knew that would only make him more difficult to work with. Being as silent as possible, she climbed into the cart and checked the bandages she’d placedon him earlier for the cuts sustained from the thorny bush he’d hidden under. One of them had been fairly deep, and she’d had to dig the barb from his skin. She changed the bandage and wondered if her betrothed was always a deep sleeper or if he was simply too tired to rouse now.
That done, she unhitched the horses so they could roam on leads near the stream. Ydra had finished erecting the tent, so the two gathered firewood. It felt good to move, but Olerra needed more. She wondered if she dared leave Ydra and the prince to go for a run…
“Come here.”
Olerra turned to find Ydra standing in a clearing just a short ways from camp. She had her feet spread apart and arms held aloft in the first stance of luet, the Amarran wrestling technique.
Thank the gods.
