Текст книги "Scars of his warth"

Автор книги: Zoey Ellis

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER SIX

Pain held her in its grip, joints stiff, limbs achy, torso shredded. Her head throbbed and her neck hurt. The pain was too severe to be from sparring or training. It felt like her whole body was screaming.

Naya cracked her eyes open and then widened them in shock.

She was suspended against a wall, her whole body pressed again it with her feet dangling and her elbows bent, arms by her head. Her robe and shoes had been taken, but she still wore her night tunic and undergarments. That was a relief.

Thick strips of fabric had been wrapped from her wrists to her elbows and around her neck, and another wide band of the same material had been wrapped around her upper torso and hips. The fabric pinned her against the wall but she couldn’t tell how.

Her memory of the man who’d chased her came rushing back. He had somehow taken her out of the forest and then drugged her.

She scanned her surroundings but it was too dark to see much of anything. A small ball of light flickered a few feet away in a strangely designed lantern carved with intricate patterns in an unusual style. It sat alone on a similarly designed wide table.

Wherever she was, it was too quiet. No wind or carriage wheels or voices; the air was warm and thick, like Vamore in summer. Maybe that’s where she was?

Peering at her forearms, she tried to examine the fabric. Bands were wrapped repeatedly but with no obvious tie-off that she could grip with her teeth. She pulled her arm away and found a powerful resistant force pulling on her arm to keep it in place. At the same time, the fabric tightened the farther away she pulled.

Naya paused and exhaled. The fabric had to be magical in nature, and magic held her against the wall. Maybe the room was filled with this type of resistant magic? Sucking in a breath, she pulled her arm away from the wall again, feeling the band tighten around her arm until she ached. But she kept going, gasping, until the top of the fabric cut into her skin.

Shock jolted her. Blood oozed out of the wound, spreading into the bands. Fabric had cut her. Who would create something like this? She’d visited prisons all over the Known Lands. No one used this.

Unease slid into her, coating her lungs with every breath she took.

Sending out her awareness, she extended her will and called on magic. Pain shot through her, vibrant and strong, fizzing around her senses before petering out at the edge of her awareness.

What was that? Trying to stay calm, she tried again and winced. The same thing happened. Hadn’t magic been behaving strangely before she was cornered?

It had something to do with the Alpha. She didn’t know how he’d stopped her in the forest, but her magic had slipped away. And it was happening again. Did that mean she wouldn’t be able to use magic?

She called on it again, only to have it fizzle out, leaving a dizzying nausea. For the first time, a small bud of fear about her situation bloomed. Magic was behaving differently than it should. The magic across the Known Lands may feel different in places, but it was predictable and plentiful. Whatever the Alpha had done, he’d disrupted it so she couldn’t exert her will on it. It was clever, but her awareness extended farther than most people thought.

She focused her mind again, this time sending her awareness in all directions, trying to feel where magic had pooled, but there was either no magic in the atmosphere around her, or the magic had a completely different identity and behaved differently.

Naya's eyes snapped open, her heart quickening. Being out of reach of magic couldn’t be possible. As part of her training, Papa had been pedantic enough to put her in scenarios where she was forced to wear a magic-restricting bangle that completely cut off her access to magic and restricted her powers.

He’d forced her to develop her problem-solving, combat and logic skills to use anything at her disposal to conquer her situation, be it her sword, her negotiation skills, or fighting as dirty as she could. She wasn’t completely helpless without magic, but this was different.

Wearing the bracelet was like being unable to take a deep breath. Like suffering from a cloying sticky-mouthed thirst with a goblet of water at your lips. It was torturous in a way those who weren’t Omegas couldn’t understand. But this wasn’t that.

Everything felt normal when she tried to access magic—it just didn’t respond the way it should.

Naya swallowed and tamped down her fear. Panicking wouldn’t help her. Focusing, she sent out her will farther than she ever had before, searching for even a sliver of magic she could control. A wild spark shot through her and she reached for it with an iron grip.

Movement stirred in the far corner of the room. Naya’s heart jumped into her mouth, shock twisting her stomach. A huge figure rose from behind the table. Someone had been in the room watching her this whole time!

She kept her breathing smooth, trying not to show her shock. It was best to act as a blank slate until she knew what this person wanted, but apprehension pricked the hair along her upper arms. She'd read about wars and battles, particularly what happened to women during disputes between rulers. It was difficult to be emotionless when she was in so much pain and pinned to a wall.

The figure made its way around the table, and her horror twisted into a raging indignation inside her stomach as the small glow of light illuminated them.

It was him.

Her fear conceded to a rapidly building anger and her eyes darted to his forearm and his knee, both of which were bandaged. But he didn't look particularly well rested. In fact, he looked even more agitated than when he was chasing her. Good.

She didn't say anything, just watched him. He crossed his arms and did the same. The dim orange light cast a shadowy glow on the left side of him, and even standing motionless, he looked just as wild as he had in the forest.

His hair hung loose, thick and wavy, framing his face. A heavy beard spread across his jaw and around his mouth. Loose rings of metal gleamed from both of his thick wrists, and dark clothes helped him blend into the darkness around him. But it was his eyes that captivated her. Fierce and piercing, with a dark glare that burned.

He didn't look like the kind of man who could be reasoned with.

Silence hung around them as they studied each other. He held a large dark stone in his hand that had scattered lines of glimmering blue light all over it, but it didn’t look familiar.

His eyes darted to her wrists and feet, as if wanting to ensure that she was secure, before skipping back up to meet her eyes.

The thick definition of his body implied he was warrior, one who trained enthusiastically. Such a man would fit in among the dedicated Alpha Lox warriors, and yet Naya sensed an additional intensity that simmered beneath the surface of his movements. An untamed, aggressive energy with the way he carried himself—a raw, impulsive force. Something about that appealed to her. This was a man used to fighting—a man unfamiliar with losing. A beast of a warrior who could not be controlled by disciplined training.

So when he took a step forward, she tensed, her whole body preparing to fight, instinctively calling on magic even though she’d just established she couldn’t control it.

He stopped a foot away. "Stop doing that.” His voice rumbled throughout the room, rich and heavy. “Magic cannot help you here.”

She didn’t recognize his accent and didn’t know how he knew she was trying to access magic, but it was better if she gave the orders. "Take me home. Now.”

He watched her mouth as it moved and then looked back up at her eyes, but said nothing.

"My father will not pay any ransom. The best chance you have of surviving when he comes for me is to release me now and pray he doesn’t find you."

The man watched her mouth before returning his gaze to her eyes again. "I am not concerned.” Deep and raspy, his voice beastly like the rest of him.

Dread churned in her stomach. Why was he so confident? "Where am I?”

His huge, crossed arms flexed. "In my world.”

Goosebumps sprinkled along her arms, tugging at something deep within her.

Ignoring his attempt to intimidate her, she forced herself to speak. “What do you want?"

He stepped forward again, a cold fire burning in his eyes. "I am going to invade your green world." The certainty in his voice sent another rash of goosebumps crawling up her arms. "I will conquer your villages and cities. I will kill your emperor and his army, and I will destroy any of his allies who choose to challenge me. Your palace will be torn down, your history erased, and I will kill your people. They will be slaughtered. My people will stand on their graves in our rise to greatness.”

Conviction gleamed in his eyes, and Naya’s heart plummeted to her stomach.

The beast pressed his palms on the wall, caging her as he leaned in. “And you, Princess, are going to help me."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Naya's anger boiled.

If this beast of an Alpha thought she was going to help him conquer her own empire, he had to be suffering from severe delusion. Yet it wasn’t delusion she’d seen in his eyes—it was surety. As though her helping him was a foregone conclusion. It infuriated her.

She’d glared at him and spoke with the punctuated force of the deadly rage that writhed in her gut. “That will never happen.”

Surprisingly the Alpha’s face smoothed, his eyes narrowing before he turned away. Naya watched his back fade into the darkness. A bright light blinded her for a moment, then he was gone.

It felt like hours had passed since then, but with no windows there was no way to tell. In that time, she’d examined every word he said, and fear had embedded itself within her anger.

This Alpha knew who he’d taken. He knew her father and was very aware he commanded the Lox Empire and Alpha army.

From what he’d said, he believed he was a ruler in his “world” but where was that? Had one of the other rulers of the Known Lands negotiated with a stranger to attack the empire? Did he command people? How many? Did he have an army? He seemed to think he could compete with the Lox, and she knew of no one foolish enough to make that claim aloud, let alone directly to her face. Did that mean he was formidable or foolish? She didn’t know enough about him to decide.

So the question remained… did he have the ability to do what he threatened? Papa’s army was a significant force, but all battles depended on the strength of each opponent.

This situation could be nothing.

Or it could be the end of the Lox Empire, her parents’ reign, and her life as she knew it.

The flickering lantern light diminished further as time passed. It was impossible to tell if anybody else was in the room with her, but Naya didn't care.

Her dread at the beast’s words wouldn’t fade, numbing her limbs and turning every thought to horror. Normally, she wouldn’t take such a ridiculous threat seriously, but the way he’d captured her had been carefully planned. He’d known where to find her and that she’d be alone, even though her refuge in the forest wasn’t common knowledge in the empire or even in the palace. Had someone betrayed her? Naya drew in a halting breath and released it slowly. Her father’s allies had maintained peace with him for years and wouldn’t risk outright war. She couldn’t rule anything out, but what was the benefit of taking her hostage? They’d know it wasn’t smart. They’d know what she was capable of. They’d know her kidnapping would make them targets; not just by her father and empire, but also his allies. It would be foolish for anyone to attempt it. And yet here she was.

Another question was how the beast had managed to get her to wherever she was now. She hadn’t sensed a portal, but she’d clearly been transported. Did he have some kind of control over magic? The question settled an uneasiness low in her stomach. Manipulating magic wasn’t an easy thing to do for non-Omegas. If he could manipulate her use of magic, then escaping would be difficult. It would also make it harder to protect the empire because magic wasn’t a big part of Lox culture. Before meeting Mama, Papa had never been keen on it and even afterward, he’d discouraged non-Omegas from using it because those who did went insane. As a result, magic was an under-utilized weapon by the empire.

If this beast attacked with a formidable army and the ability to wield magic, her father would be unprepared⁠—

Naya swallowed and wrenched that thought from her mind. She couldn’t let the idea that her father might be in real danger overwhelm her. Her father dealt well with surprises; he would manage as he’d always done.

This beast’s overconfidence unnerved her, but of course he would act confidently. It didn’t mean he could do what he said he could. Her priority was to get away—to escape and warn her father. And that’s what she would do. Closing her eyes, she took another breath and focused.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, suspended in time, pushing away any thought that attempted to form. But when she heard rustling, she opened her eyes to see a man leaning over the table.

At first she thought it was the beast, but it wasn’t.

This man had similar dark hair pulled up into a scruffy ball high on his head. He was shorter, but just as thick and muscly, making him look stout. He wore a long light-colored tunic that was strangely cut and very different to the popular styles across the Known Lands; his wrists jangled with rings of copper, similar to the ones the beast wore.

He reached for the lantern and fiddled with it, blooming the range of light beyond the table and lighting up the room. It was smaller than she thought. The rectangular table filled most of it. The table’s unusual patterns covered its top and legs, and metal ring fixtures had been attached along its edge. The only chair was in the far left corner where the beast had sat undetected. The smooth tan-colored walls disappeared into… sand?

Naya stared at it. Why was sand all over the ground?

It didn’t look like the fine, white sand of the beaches of Fengar or the pale and grainy sand of Cillford. This was darker and richer, like fine grains of gold.

The man placed things on the table from a bag he’d brought in with him—strange-shaped bottles and jars and boxes. Lifting the lid of a small box he’d placed on the table, he rummaged around in it before turning to face her. There wasn’t any maliciousness in his eyes like in the beast’s. In fact, he had a somewhat pleasant face, although apprehension seeped from him in the way he stepped toward her, his eyes flicking over her body.

They caught on her arm where the fabric was soaked with blood. His eyes darted to hers for the first time, fear flashed on his face.

Naya watched him closely. This was strange.

The man went back to his box and rummaged around again, muttering under his breath. He came back to her and this time examined her right wrist and sprayed it with something cool. A sharp sting pierced her skin, followed quickly by tingling. Naya clenched her fist, keeping any sound inside her mouth.

He glanced at her, brows furrowed, still muttering in a deep guttural voice, but the words were unfamiliar to her. Unwinding the bands, he cleaned the wound and then wrapped them back up.

He picked up something from the table and approached her again. It was a strange plant. Covered with knobby bumps, it was almost half his height and as thick as his arm. It was tubular, but one end of it was fatter than the other, the thinner end tapering into a curled spike and the fatter end rounding into a smooth curve.

Turning the strange plant so that the smooth round part of it faced upward, the man pulled out a small dagger and in one swoop cut off its round top. Moving carefully, he stepped toward her and held the strange plant to her face.

Naya wrenched her head to the side, preventing it from touching her. The man released a guttural noise of annoyance. He spoke again, his words quick and halting, bumping into each other as he tried to get them out.

Naya kept her head to the side and refused to look at him. Whatever he was going to do to her, it would be without her permission.

After a moment, the man exhaled heavily and his next words came halting and thick. "You drink."

Naya frowned, darting her eyes to look at him without turning her head.

The man’s features were intense. "Important," he added.

Naya shook her head firmly.

The man let out another string of words before he turned, exhaling in frustration. Lifting the long, knobby plant, he threaded it into one of the ring fixtures at the edge of the table until it fit securely.

Casting a long look at her that she didn’t understand, he headed to the door.

Naya panicked, the urge to say something suddenly overwhelming her. She should try to converse with him, shouldn’t she? He looked like he might be more reasonable than the beast. Maybe she could get him to help her. But her mind scattered about until the blinding light hit her, and then he was gone.

Within a few moments, the light blinded her again. This time three people dressed in similar light-colored clothing entered. They came in so quickly, Naya couldn’t examine them before they surrounded her. Two of them fiddled with the fabric bands around her body, and the force that had been pinning her against the wall disappeared. She fell forward onto them, and they caught her, fixing her so she could walk between them. Naya winced, the pain in her body increasing with every movement.

They led her to the door, allowing her to lean on them while they kept her secure. All were slightly taller than her, each with a firm grip and soft hands.

Naya breathed shallowly, forcing the sensation of the pain into the back of her mind. This might be her chance to escape, she just had to pay attention for the opportunity.

When they reached the opposite wall, she was surprised to see a curtain, not a door. It blended so well with the wall that even from a few feet away it was almost indistinguishable.

One of the three drew it to the side and they ushered Naya into blinding light. An aggressive heat encased her, searing every part of her body. The air was thick with it, like she’d stepped into a wall of hot fog. Even breathing was like drawing in thick clouds of scalding heat.

Even worse, Naya couldn't see anything. The brightness hurt her eyes; she’d instinctively closed them, leaving her staggering and groping for the people who ushered her on. The presence of sand continued outside of the room—it flung from under her with each step and coated her bare feet, tiny grains clinging to her feet and dusting between her toes. After walking for a few moments, the group stopped and pressed hard on her shoulders, forcing her to kneel on the sand, and their fingers fiddled with the fabric again.

A force jerked her forward and her wrists and the side of her torso hit something firm and rough low to the ground. The soft hands let her go and the swish of their footsteps sounded in the sand as they moved away.

When Naya’s eyes finally adjusted, she saw she was sitting on the sand and pinned to a large stone this time by the bands around her arms and torso. It was about the size of her but it wasn’t a natural rock. It had been smoothed and carved into a rounded shape with a somewhat flat top. She tested the fabric bands again, pulling against the force and moving her arms away, but as before, the fabric tightened, preventing her from moving away.

Exhaling a breath of irritation, she sat up and looked out only to be astonished by what lay before her.

Golden sand spread out as far as she could see. The bluest, most beautiful sky she’d ever seen met it at the horizon, no clouds in sight. Together the sight was pure, deep, and stunning.

Naya stared at the landscape, unaware she was even holding her breath. She’d never seen anything like it. The richness of both the blue and the gold was like looking at Mama’s favorite dazzling artwork; vibrant and arresting. The Known Lands had no views even close to this.

Her stomach dropped, the gnawing unease transforming into a bitter dread. She couldn’t be in the Known Lands.

Blinking again, she looked around.

To her far right, a herd of horses stood, tails swishing and feet stomping. She peered closer as one of them turned slightly. They weren’t horses. Their bodies were a similar shape, but slightly bulkier, and their hooves flared out wider with chunkier legs. Their tails were thin and tapered into a curling, tufty end, but it was their heads that set them apart. Ears about twice the length of her small hand stood erect on their heads and curved to a point at the top. They had no long, flowing manes, but short spikes of hair that stood erect along the back of their necks. Their faces were slightly longer than normal horses, and their snouts curved underneath them, making the lower half of their heads look like hooks.

Naya watched them for a moment, hardly believing what she was seeing. They chewed and stomped their wide feet like horses, but they were something else entirely. Next to them on the ground, bags, sacks, and boxes were stacked into a pile, and light-clothed people moved to and fro, grabbing an item and walking out of view.

Naya kept her eyes on them, twisting to look where they were going behind her.

A cluster of huge tan-colored tents sat on the sand, and people hurried between them, almost like a small sand camp. Naya exhaled, shock pushing breath out of her lungs. Where was she?

She carefully twisted on her bottom so she could face the camp, wincing at the slight tightening of the bands around her bruised back.

The tents were different sizes, but all of them loomed over her like they’d risen from the ground and were growing toward the sky. They were nothing like the tents she’d used when trekking across Ashens’ mountains. The style was unusual with patterns along the fabric where the roofs met the walls. They looked sturdy, like they’d been standing for a long time, their deep tan color making them seem like they’d been crafted from the golden sand they sat upon. The only tent that stood out was a huge white one, further back in the middle of the camp and mostly obscured by the others.

Naya tried to find the direction she’d come from. Surely she hadn’t just been in a tent? Inside had been dark, but the wall she’d been against had felt like stone—too solid and strong to be a fabric tent wall. But all she could see in front of her were rows of tents, most of them closed. She had to have come out of one of them.

She eyed the people moving about, trying to wrangle her unease that they hardly made a sound. The camp was busy, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in the way they moved. No one really spoke, it was as though they all knew what needed to be done. They were all dressed similarly—unusually designed tunics, but in shades of brown, tan, and white colors. Most had material wrapped around their heads and faces, but their skin colors ranged more than their clothing—from the darkest brown to the lightest ivory.

Some carried various items inside the tents, others worked on the tents themselves, others were squeezing material soaked with water over the strange horses.

With people moving about so quickly, she couldn’t tell how many there were, if they were warriors like the beast, or if they were all Alphas, but there had to be at least thirty by her estimation.

Something niggled in the back of her mind about the strangeness of it all. She couldn’t see what lay behind the tents, but in every other direction a vast desert landscape stretched far into the distance lit a bright, bold sun.

Her attention shifted to the fabric bands along her forearms, examining them now that she could see them clearly. Dark red wide strips, the ribbed texture stretched easily. They didn’t look like anything special. Other than the pressure they exerted when she moved away from what they pinned her to, they were comfortable.

She pulled at the edge of it with her fingers to see if she could pull it off over her hands, but it tugged on her skin, stuck fast like it had been glued rather than wrapped.

The man with the knobby plant had easily unwound it when he treated her, so it could be removed. She just had to figure out how to do it. If she tried to rip it off, it would probably take her skin and a good chunk of her arm with it.

Naya sent her awareness into the fabric. She sensed a moderate amount of magic in them, nothing she couldn’t easily disperse, but it had been woven strangely, closed-off, and not open to instruction. Multiple times she tried to grab hold of it, command it under her control, but it didn’t respond. It were as if it wasn’t there, even though she could feel and witness the effects of it. No magic she knew of behaved like this. It was as though this magic had a foreign language that didn’t respond to her own.

After trying repeatedly, she exhaled through gritted teeth and looked up, locking eyes with the beast. He stood a few feet from the horse-like creatures, his arms crossed and his hair tied back. She couldn’t see his face clearly from this distance but his size and stance made him instantly recognizable. No one else was watching her so overtly.

He was at least twice as big as her, possibly three times. He was definitely stronger and very likely skilled with a weapon. But he wasn’t quicker. It was doubtful he’d have been able to catch her if she’d had the space to really run back in the forest. It was possible he’d underestimated her ability to fight. He hadn’t planned on being stabbed or elbowed, and he’d probably protect himself better in the future. But it was good to know that there were at least some sensitive points on his body she could attack if she had the opportunity.

Although he’d worn dark clothes in the forest and when he’d sat hidden in the tent with her, he was now dressed similar to the people of the camp—a long light-colored tunic and loose pants, which contrasted his dark sand-colored complexion. The people of the camp moved around him like he wasn’t there. It wasn’t clear if he was the leader of the camp, or a second-in-command, or a mercenary, but she got the feeling he wasn’t insignificant.

The beast eyed her with the same unrelenting intensity that he had in the tent. He made no attempt to approach her and seemed content to let others work in this heat while he did nothing except try to intimidate her from afar.

Naya snorted and turned away.

The people were moving quicker now with urgency, but she couldn’t tell why. In this kind of flurry, she should be able to escape without being noticed but where could she escape to? She didn’t know what lay in any direction, and she’d have no way to hide with nothing to shield her across the sandy landscape that stretched out as far as she could see. Not ideal.

Suddenly she realized that almost everyone had disappeared inside a tent.

Naya straightened, taking stock of her surroundings again. What was happening? The only people outside were those leading the strange horses across the sand and into one of the huge tents where the cloth “door” had been hitched up. The horses seemed comfortable, and the action seemed practiced.

Once they were all in, the sides of the tents fell down, encasing all the horses within and obstructing her view. Across the camp all of the tents were closed, either from a curtain being pulled across or from the sides of the tent being loosened so it could fall back into place.

Only one tent remained open. The white one.

The beast stood in the opening, arms crossed, still watching her.

Naya shifted to her knees, panic rising in her throat as she looked around. Were they leaving her here to be eaten by some wild animal? Was she being sacrificed to another camp? It made no sense for so many people to disappear at the same time while leaving her out here secured to a rock.

No one and nothing appeared. It was almost deathly quiet, with a silent blurry haze coming over the horizon. But within a few moments, the rock she was leaning on began to burn. Naya yelped and tried to shuffle away from the heat, but the force of the bands kept her in place. Carefully, she fixed herself so her skin didn’t touch the rock, only the bands.

But that wasn’t the only problem.

The sun’s heat bore down increasing in intensity, scorching her skin. Sweat trickled down her face and gathered under her arms. The air got so thick, it felt as if she was suffocating, and the sand underneath her was almost unbearable to sit on.

Panting, she glanced up at the sky. The sun was directly overhead, making its journey across the sky with no clouds to obstruct it. As she turned her head, she caught sight of the beast. He was still watching her from the shade of his tent where he was no doubt cool.

At once, she realized what he was doing.

Everyone escaped into their tents to avoid this heat, yet he’d secured her to a rock to endure it, like a sacrifice to the sun during the hottest peak of the day.

And he was enjoying the sight of her torture.

She tore her eyes away from him, cursing under her breath. The heat was already beating into her skin at a degree that was cruel; how hot could it get? Worry roiled in her stomach but she wouldn't allow him to think she would be this easy to break. She’d trekked across the notorious hot and dangerous plains of Eiros when she was eighteen. It’d been an incredible mental and physical challenge walking in that heat. Granted, she’d had water and supplies with her, but it was still harrowing. If that was what she had to put up with now, she’d bear it. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but she’d do it.

Carefully, she turned her body away from the beast so he couldn’t see her face and she forced her mind away from the searing heat and onto the people of the camp. These had to be his people. Some, like the ones who’d taken her to the rock, had been women, but the other workers looked like men. She couldn't tell any of their dynamics without a closer look, but none of women seemed small, as was typical for Omegas. All of the men were huge, so they could all be Alphas, though the idea of that wasn’t pleasant.