Текст книги "Scars of his warth"

Автор книги: Zoey Ellis

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These men could be warriors—they were big enough to be—but they also looked like they’d done a lot of physical work throughout their lives. The only way to really know was to see them in battle.

Naya swallowed, her throat dry even as sweat poured down the sides of her face. Her clothes were damp from sweat, making her itchy and sticky.

She refused to look at the beast, but could feel his eyes on her.

Time wore on and breathing became more challenging with the air thick and heavy. Panic dug deep into her bones, but she forced herself to calm. In this situation panicked breathing would only worsen the suffocation. Seeing her distressed was exactly what the beast wanted. It was why he was watching her—to know her weaknesses so he could exploit them.

She kept her mouth shut, head down to protect her face from the sun, and closed her eyes, using focused thought to slow her breathing and get her mind and emotions under control, while the unrelenting sun seethed.

And then in the next moment, she was waking up, drowsy and disoriented.

The three who had dragged her out from the tent were pulling her to her feet. Naya blinked rapidly, her whole body weak and tight, like she’d shriveled into a discarded skin of her former self.

The sun was still bright and hot, but not as intense. The hottest part of the day seemed to have passed. The three women braced her between them and headed toward the nearest tent.

As soon as Naya stepped inside, the cool air embraced her, tingling on her cheeks and lips. She sucked in a breath, finally able to breathe deeply and a sigh of relief escaped her lips on her exhale.

The women carried her to the opposite wall and leaned her against it while their hands fiddled again with the fabric bands. By the time Naya realized she should watch what they were doing, the force pulled her up, locking her firmly against the wall. She was back in the same position as before.

It looked like the same tent, yet this time, it felt like a refuge. Was it cooler than before she’d gone out or was the air just cool compared to outside? The darkness, however, was now a relief.

Once she was secured, the women filed out quickly and quietly.

Naya closed her eyes, her body rapidly cooling as she tried to order her thoughts. But at the sound of muffled footsteps, she opened them again.

The beast stood in front of her, his expression thunder, as if she’d angered him by not suffering more. Naya tried to control her fury, her mouth tightening as she glared at him. If he wanted to kill her slowly, he was welcomed to try. Unless she was able to escape to warn her father, her death would most certainly secure the beast’s death too. Mama and Papa wouldn’t rest until they had revenge.

The beast seemed to sense something in her eyes. He stepped forward, meeting her fury with his own, but then stopped. Huffing out a breath, he turned but paused when he saw the long, green, spiky plant sitting in the round brace on the edge of the table.

He lifted it out. Turning to face her, he tilted his head back, lifted it over his face and tipped the round end toward him. Clear liquid poured out, splashing on his face and drenching his hair. He opened his open mouth to catch some of it, but the rest splattered on him and onto the floor.

Naya swallowed, her dry throat painful. The liquid looked as clear as water and most of it was being wasted. The beast kept tilting and more liquid poured out, like a never-ending waterfall encased in a long, knobby plant.

Naya watched with dismay, astonished at how much liquid the plant held.

Finally, it emptied and the beast turned to her, drenched and dripping. He stepped forward and sprayed a mouthful of the liquid onto her face. Instantly, a cool sensation tingled her skin and she couldn’t help but catch the droplets dripping down her lips with her tongue. It wasn’t water, but whatever it was quenched her dry mouth with its slightly sweet flavor.

She whimpered at the taste of it, but the beast made a sound at the back of his throat—rough, guttural, abrupt.

She looked up at him, and in his sinister gaze she understood everything that was to come. He was intending to break her—to force her obedience and submission until she helped him.

Naya returned his glare, silently daring him to try.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The stout, bearded man came into the tent again.

It had been hours since she’d seen anyone—a day had to have passed. Naya felt much better than she had since she’d seen the beast, probably because she’d managed to sleep a little, even though it was uncomfortable.

She watched the stout man closely, but he barely looked her in the eye. He had no plant with him this time. He checked her over, quick and efficiently, and then left. Immediately after, the women came in and unattached her from the wall. Naya kept herself limp and weak, as though she was unable to stand. They led her out of the tent, back through the curtain, and this time she glanced around as they took her to the stone.

The camp of tents took up a significant amount of space but her tent was on the right side. If she could get clear of the camp and then outrun anyone who chased her, she might have a chance of escaping. She could pull out of the women’s hands and run now. They weren’t holding her that securely….

There was still the problem of how she’d survive out in the desert when she didn’t know the land and had no idea how to get home. Did that matter?

Naya flickered with indecision, each step taking her closer to imprisonment on the stone. Was it better she died out here or suffer the wait for a chance to warn her father. What if that chance never came?

She glanced over at the horse-like creatures and the beast was over there, but he was talking to another man with his back to her. Her decision was instantaneous.

Wrenching herself away from the women, Naya pivoted and darted to the right. The women lunged for her, one of them catching her elbow with a strong grip and tugging her back, but Naya pulled free. She forced her legs to move as fast as they could with everything she had, ignoring the orchestra of pain that clashed throughout her body.

Shouts of alarm sounded behind her but she was already moving quickly, rounding the camp and facing the open desert landscape. Narrowing her focus, she kept running, her breath coming out in short pants. But within moments, footsteps sounded behind her. They were heavy but quick and getting closer with every breath she took.

Naya powered everything she could into her legs, desperate to escape into the distant golden sand, but running on sand barefooted wasn’t easy, it kept shifting underneath her.

The footsteps inched closer until they were right behind her.

A heavy body crashed into her, throwing her to the ground. They rolled, sand kicking up around them as they wrestled for the advantage, but her opponent was too big. Locking her wrists behind her with one hand, she was dragged to her feet, and she found herself face to face with the beast.

Fury contorted his face and she scowled back at him.

How he had managed to chase and catch up with her so quickly from where he’d been standing? He hadn’t even been looking in her direction. He bellowed, the words harsh and heavy in a language she didn’t understand. He grabbed the fabric that covered her torso and rubbed his thumb on it, then flicked one of his wrists, jangling the copper rings.

The torso fabric tightened, shooting a sharp pain through her body. Naya pressed her lips together, keeping her whimper in her mouth refusing to acknowledge the agony.

He switched the Common Tongue, his voice as tight as his face. “Where did you think you were going? Do you think you know where you are?” His words turned to bellows. “Do you even know what’s out there?”

Before she could answer, he released her, his arm outstretched. She staggered backward, but when he bent his arm slightly, pulling his wrist in, the fabric tightened even more.

Naya gasped, her eyes watering at the pain.

“You think you can run from me?” His voice lowering with malice.

Naya spluttered, struggling to draw breath under the pressure of the fabric. The beast glared at her and inched his wrist in again. The fabric tightened until it was unbearable, like being caught between two stone walls eager to meet each other with her torso stuck in the middle—solid, relentless.

Naya clawed at her torso, trying to find a way to rip the damn fabric off, but there wasn’t any way to loosen it. A dull pop rocked through her torso, sending an intense pain through her body. Naya staggered, clutching her side. He’d just snapped one of her ribs.

She met his anger with a fury of her own, teeth clenched, still refusing to acknowledge the pain that tore through her. He pulled his wrist in again and another rib snapped.

She grunted through gritted teeth, staggering on the sand, only pure grit keeping her upright. He watched her, his jaw hard, his mouth twisted. “You cannot escape me. And if you try, I will punish you.”

He pulled in his wrist again.

Another dull pop rocked her torso, and this time Naya collapsed on the sand, a scream tearing out of her throat. The pain was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Like a burning fire spreading through her middle. Even screaming was painful.

The next thing she knew, the beast was lifting her and putting her over his shoulder so roughly she screamed again. He walked back the way they came, each step jostling her and drawing muffled cries from her throat. He walked for ages—it felt like a much longer distance than she’d run but, finally, he slowed to a stop. He grabbed the fabric again, and fiddled with it, then slid her down off him to the ground.

A force pulled her in one swift motion to the dark gray stone.

Pain burst through her as she hit it, and she screamed again. Tears stung her eyes, forming at the onslaught of seemingly never-ending excruciating pain. But once she was against the stone, she tried to stay as still as possible.

The beast towered over her. “If you try to run again, I will break your hip. You do not need to walk while you’re here.”

Naya stared up at him with a blistering rage coursing through her that was ready to burst, and the tears clinging to her lashes made her even more furious. Dark amusement flashed through the fierceness of his expression, but before she could say anything, he stalked away.

She watched him, her chest heaving, but even breathing was painful. Trying to ignore it, she looked around her. She was in the same position against the rock that she’d been yesterday. The camp people were heading into their tents, some leading the horse-like creatures into the largest one.

As soon as they were inside, the heat intensified again, just like the day before. The stone heated, burning her, but this time she didn’t have the strength to hold herself away from it without putting unbearable pressure on her torso. So her skin burned.

Naya tried to hold in her screams, but when her skin melted against the rock, sticky goo smearing across it, the agony overwhelmed her. She let out a harsh, hoarse scream, and kept screaming as the stone seared her, burning more intensely than the fiery heat from the sun.

After that, the dizziness swam into her, and she was grateful to escape into its unhinged darkness even just for a moment, knowing the relentless sun and stone would continue to scald her while she lay unconscious.

CHAPTER NINE

When Naya woke again, it was dark and cool, but everything ached.

She inhaled sharply, the memory of the beast standing over her, his silhouette dark against the bright sun, stark in her mind. But she was back in the tent. She tried to relax her muscles. The pain in her torso had lessened a little, but only if she breathed shallowly. Blotches of swollen, blistered skin stretched along her arms and legs. They looked bad, but the black patches of burns on her arms and legs felt even worse. She’d had to have been against the stone for a while.

The fabric around her torso had been removed and her tunic cut open, revealing large, dark bruises just where she suspected he’d broken her ribs. A white substance had already been applied to some of them. Hearing a clink of glass, she lifted her head. The stout man leaned over bottles and jars scattered over the table.

Selecting one, he turned and approached her, staring at her torso with a thoughtful expression, before kneeling before her and opening the jar. He scooped up a brown creamy substance and gently spread it over one side of her, a cool, tingly sensation spreading over her skin.

Naya drew in a sharp breath, and the man glanced up at her. He stilled, but then resumed carefully applying the cool cream all over her bruises. He went back to the table and picked up a small box about the size of his hand. Holding it close to her skin, he held his head close to it and moved it slowly, as if listening for something.

Her insides shifted. Naya jerked in alarm. What was that?

The man was focusing intently so she lowered her eyes and did the same. Underneath her skin, something was moving. Maybe her organs, maybe her bones…. Thankfully, there was no pain, which was probably due to the cream, but it still felt unnatural.

Something within her locked into place, and suddenly it was easier to breathe. He moved to another part of her torso and did the same, locking something back together. The man relaxed and moved back to the table. Naya eyed him. He was most likely the healer for this camp.

After bathing her burns in a water solution that fizzed on contact, he swiped some of the sandy grime from her around her eyes. Once done checking her over, he rewrapped the fabric around her torso and began to pack up his bottles and jars into his bag.

“Don’t leave,” Naya blurted out. Her voice was hoarse, her throat sore and gritty, as though she’d been swallowing sand.

The man paused, turning to look at her.

“Please,” she croaked. “I know you tried to help me before. I should have drunk your… plant thing.” He watched her mouth, reminding her to slow her speech. “I cannot stay. I don’t belong here. I need to leave.”

The man watched her for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. Then he spoke, slowly and carefully. “No run.”

A twist of dread skipped down Naya’s spine. Something about the way he looked at her made his words seem more like a serious warning than a threat. She had nothing else to say so just watched as he left the tent.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Healers usually had some sort of empathy for their patients, but it was unlikely he’d have any power against the beast.

The next day, the women came again, but this time they secured an extra band of fabric around Naya’s thighs so she couldn’t walk at her normal stride, only waddle. And when she stepped outside, men stood guard, watching her as she was escorted back to the stone.

The beast stood where he always was, watching from the strange non-horses. After being attached to the stone again, Naya tried to fix her position so she wouldn’t burn as badly, but it was almost impossible.

The camp settled itself in their tents, and when the sun blazed to an incredible heat she grunted, trying to withstand it until it tortured her into unconsciousness once again.

The days blurred into a bright hot nightmare.

Naya found herself in two states; the sun brutal on her skin, and painful, uncomfortable darkness. There was no in between. Her days became a hazy, disoriented experience.

With no measure for passing time, each state she found herself in seemed suspended. She never knew how long each one was going to last. Hunger gnawed at her stomach until it faded away, but worse was the dryness of her mouth. She kept working it, pretending she was chewing to stimulate saliva, but the cloth-mouth feeling never eased.

When the need to urinate became unbearable, she let it go, the warmth streaming down her legs, sticking her undergarments. She tried to sleep, but it was too uncomfortable, yet more than once she found herself waking up having fallen unconscious.

Whenever she was in the sun, the beast was never far away, watching her with that tight gaze. He would kill her if this continued, but as long as it didn’t help him, she didn’t care. It would be a relief to escape him and embrace death. He didn't realize just how much she’d die for her people. She may not have been able to help them the way they wanted her to, but she certainly wouldn’t betray them.

Naya tried to make herself numb. She sunk into the darkness of her mind, refusing to feel anything so she didn’t give the beast a single fucking tear. But it was hard to ignore the pain radiating everywhere in her body. Her tight skin was sensitive and covered with burns, her mouth fuzzy and with mouth sores, and she stunk from having to soil herself against the tent wall.

Each time they dragged her from the tent to bear the brunt of the furious heat, she clung to the knowledge that her parents, their allies, and the whole of the Known Lands were all searching for her. They would find this place eventually, even if it took them months. She would be dead by then, but at least she wouldn’t have helped the beast conquer her land.

But as time passed, it occurred to her that he was keeping her alive, even if barely. Sometimes they would rub ointments on her leathery skin or force a small amount of liquid down her throat. It was usually when she was unconscious, but she became aware he was keeping her on the edge of life and on the brink of consciousness so she could experience his infliction of pain for as long as he wanted her to feel it.

In the darkness of the tent, where she was left for hours to suffer, she refused to cry. But once, when she stared at the mottled patchwork of bruises and burns, her mind swimming with haziness, tears stung her dry, gritty eyes. If her parents found her body.…

A flash of light interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see the beast standing opposite her.

Their eyes remained locked for a long moment.

She met his with the fire of her love for her parents and her home—with the knowledge that she would die protecting them, keeping this monster away from them for as long as possible.

The silence between them heightened.

"We will kill your people first.”

Naya jerked against the wall, his gruff words sharp against the soft comfort of her thoughts.

"We will not engage your army. They are too small to be everywhere at once. We are not.”

Her frail mind lumbered to work, trying to make sense of what he was saying. How big was his army?

“Our army is more than four times the size of yours, and almost all Alpha.” His words stilled her thoughts. “Your army is lazy and complacent. They praise themselves without ever having had a real battle. They will be defeated almost instantly.”

Naya couldn’t help the shuddering breath she sucked in, every inch of her body protesting against the words he growled out.

“The majority of your people will die before your army even realizes we have arrived. Neither will see us coming.”

The little moisture her body had managed to produce spilled onto her cheeks. Her people didn’t deserve that, and neither did her parents, Lonn, all the Alphas she’d trained with, the Omegas, the people of South Saderthorne.

The beast stepped forward, his eyes hard on her, continuing the violent attack of words. “If you choose not to help us, your corpse will lead that charge. Decayed, carved up, with your cunt fucked raw and ripped open, your womb mutilated, and your limbs hollowed. Your corpse will show your empire that their most prized possession could not be saved. Their most powerful Omega was too weak to withstand the Sy Dynasty. Their terror will ease our way.”

He stopped a few feet away. “You will help us”—his voice thrummed out and surrounded her, filling the tent, thick and deep—“or you will become the symbol of defeat across your Lands. No matter where your people try to flee, your defeated corpse will haunt them.”

Naya forced herself to maintain eye contact, but she couldn’t stop the trembling in her limbs. He knew. All this time he knew what she meant to her people. He knew what it would take to wipe out their morale instantly. That was probably why he took her in the first place.

“What does that matter?” she croaked. “You will kill me whether I help you or not.”

"You are more useful alive."

“Why?”

His nose flared. "I have no intention of killing you unless you force me to.” He straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. “We need to move from this area within the next day. If you do not agree to my terms, I will kill you and used your corpse as described."

Thoughts lurched through Naya’s weakened mind, slipping past before she could grasp the point she knew she was missing. "What terms?"

"You tell us all we need to know to prepare for the invasion. In return, we will not needlessly kill your people when we arrive."

“You threatened to stand on their graves,” Naya said bitterly, forcing the words through her dry, cracked lips.

“We will. Of the ones who die. But not all of them have to die.”

"What will you do with them?"

"They will be expelled. Your empire will be the new home for my people. Your people will be free to find a home elsewhere."

"Do you think they will just surrender to you? They will resist you with everything they have."

“Which is not much," he said sharply. "Once your army is gone, your people will have no choice. Some may fight us, yes, and we will kill those who resist, but we will not eradicate them all like we initially planned."

Naya closed her eyes, trying to stanch the effect of his words and his overwhelming presence had on her muddled mind. He was talking about the women and children… Omegas and their families. After everything Omegas had been though, she had to protect them if she could. And yet the idea of helping him sent raw and sickening disgust into every corner of her body. It was a traitorous thought. He’d been smart to offer the lives of the people in exchange, but he didn’t understand that there was no way she would ever betray them. She couldn’t. But she had to do something, knowing that everyone would be cut down without mercy if she didn’t agree. He’d already proven his cruelty.

If she stayed alive, there was at least a chance to escape and warn her father. Maybe she could learn who these people were, where they were, and what chance they really had of launching a successful invasion against the Lox Empire. And if she learned enough, she could help her father prepare for what was coming and destroy the beast. The thought of torturing him in return was enough to fuel a blaze of motivation within her.

She opened her eyes, meeting the beast’s stare.

"This invasion is going to happen," he said. "You have the choice of how it happens."

There was truth to that statement. Dead, she was useless to her family and her people. Alive, they had a chance.

Her best option was misdirection.

How would he know if she was lying or omitting information? He’d done his research about the empire but if he knew everything, he wouldn’t have needed her.

Suddenly the scattered thoughts knitted together.

She had leverage. He was keeping her alive for a reason, she just didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was to use her capture to demoralize her people, but he could more effectively use her death to do that. Something didn’t make sense. He wanted something from her, and he was willing to keep her alive to get it.

She could use that.

Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to see he’d stepped even closer to her. She sucked in a deep breath, dragging air into her lungs which ricocheted pain around her body. “Do you intend to keep me chained to this wall if I help you?”

“You will be treated in accordance with your dynamic.”

Terror flicked to life. Was he intending to breed her? To sexually abuse her the way Omegas were used historically in the past? “What does that mean?”

His eyes searched hers. “You will be treated like an unwilling guest. A guest forced to be in my city and obey my laws.”

Her terror mellowed. It sounded like she might have a small amount of freedom to figure out how to escape and repel his attack.

"I will do it," she said, her voice quiet and hard. “Provided I am not touched by you or any of your men.”

He stepped closer, towering over her, and she lifted her head up, forcing herself to meet his eyes. The intensity in his eyes remained the same; it spread goosebumps up her arms, even though she was barely able to think properly.

In her haze-filled mind, her instincts told her that this man was the epitome of an Alpha; demanding, ruthless, clever, and physically capable. He was like the opposite to Papa—an anti-emperor—but with similar skills. The one who wouldn’t win, but would make a damn good effort. If Naya hadn’t been taken, Papa probably would’ve enjoyed the challenge, but now this man would have to die. And she would enjoy it.

The beast approached and his scent engulfed her, seeping into her nostrils, and drowning out all the other unpleasant odors in the air. Earthy and deep, it burrowed into her, developing into a heady richness, animalistic, complex musk. Unmistakably Alpha.

Her body responded. Nipples hardening, the tingle of her slick gathering between her legs made them tense, and the twist of arousal in her stomach sent a surge of horror through her.

The beast stared down at her, his brows inching toward each other as he studied her expression.

Naya’s breath shortened. No. It can't be. He cannot be!

“Your culture considers its word to mean something—to have honor,” he said. “I hold you to that standard. So you lie or mislead me, you will suffer. There are things worse than death. Do you understand this?”

Naya barely heard the words rumbling out of him. She watched his lips, fascinated by the sensuality of them—full, firm, and needing her teeth to bite down on them. Her nipples hardened the closer he got, and a hot flood of arousal so intense dulled the pain that had held her in its grip for so long.

With the relief from the pain came a sliver of clarity.

Her blocks had been removed. When did that happen? She hadn’t even considered her blocks wouldn’t work in a place where magic behaved so differently. They had to be disabled or gone, otherwise she wouldn’t have scented him. Not like this.

She stared up at him in disbelief. There was no denying who the beast was.

After years of searching for her true mate—the one who would help restore her ability to rule and care for her people. The mate who would continue the peaceful reign of her parents. The mate that Gramma said would protect and care for…. It was him. The beast intent on destroying everything and everyone she loved, even if he destroyed her in the process.

Naya sputtered, opening her mouth to say something—but everything in her told her to claim him, to lean her nose into his neck and breath deeper, to tell him he was beautiful and strong and… hers.

Naya swallowed the words, furious at how strong the compulsion was. By the time she glanced back up, the beast’s nose had flared wide. He could scent her. Even beyond the stench of her grime and sores and soiled body, he had to be able to tell who she was to him.

Buried within the striking intensity of his dark eyes an understanding beamed through, tinged with contempt, curiosity, and a gleam of something she couldn’t read. He snorted and turned away.

Naya watched him exit the tent, horror turning her pained breath cold. He hadn’t reacted to her the way her Alpha should. But he knew.

And he didn’t care.