Everything had gone to hell.
I hadn’t even seen him come inside. One second, I was flipping a page, the next, I was yanked upright so fast my book slammed to the floor and I spilled my tea all across the cabin. Panic flared bright and wild in my chest.
The panic had yet to lessen since that moment. As he stomped through the woods with me over his shoulder, every jab of his shoulder into my gut was a reminder that I was completely trapped.
His grip didn’t loosen, and neither did his silence stop. I squirmed against him, tired and utterly done with being dragged around like some kind of prize. The woods were cold, and for once they seemed completely silent, other than the troll-like man who held me.
I kicked and twisted, trying to find a weak spot in his hold, but it was useless. This guy wasn’t just strong, he was like some nightmare muscle machine, all sinew and dark menace. His skin had this unnatural sheen, almost like it was made of shadow and smoke, except it wasn’t smoke, it was flesh. And his eyes. Jesus. They were too sharp, too bright, with swirling blue and purple flecks that captivated me. I caught a glimpse of his horns curling back from his forehead, pale and twisted like ancient tree roots, and his long, dark hair fell in a messy curtain around his face.
I didn’t know what he was, definitely not human. Maybe some kind of demon? Or a forest spirit - are those a thing? My mind scrambled, desperate for a label. Succubus? I remembered that word from some book once. If that was right, then I really was in hell.
“Put me down,” I growled, trying to sound more intimidating than I felt. “I’m not your trophy, okay? I’m not some prize you drag around like a damn sack of potatoes.”
He grunted but said nothing. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he liked that I was loud and pissed off. Whatever it was, it didn’t change the fact that he was carrying me through the woods like I weighed nothing.
After a while, I started whining. “Seriously, where are you taking me? And can we please not do this silent brooding thing? I’m bored.”
Still, he did not respond to me, which meant only one thing. Escalation.
“Ooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea-” Was all I got out before a sudden lurch that almost sent me tumbling off his shoulder. I gasped, and before I could react, he dropped me right into a huge, squelchy patch of mud. My ass sank into the cold mud, and I sat there like a dumb idiot, covered head to toe in sticky brown sludge.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I sputtered, wiping mud from my face. “You just dropped me in the mud! Are you insane? What if it had splashed Bagel in her carrier?”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
He stood over me, arms crossed, expression unreadable but with a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Serves you right,” he said gruffly. “Maybe you’ll stop making so much noise.”
I scowled and wiped another handful of muck off my jacket. “Yeah, well, next time, try not to throw your prize into a swamp, okay?”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he picked me up again, even though I was definitely heavier now and dripping with mud.
We only remained in the woods for another half an hour before we made it to the edge of town. He seemed to know the exact route to avoid all other people, and I tried my best to memorize the way. He stopped suddenly and entered a small wood building, closing the door behind us.
When he finally put me down and once the blood finally stopped rushing to my head, I realized that we weren’t alone; there were two other men here.
One was tall and lean, with skin the color of ash and sharp cheekbones that could have been carved from marble. His eyes were a pale silver, almost glowing faintly in the dim light, and his fingers were unnaturally long and slender, like they belonged on some creepy forest spider. A thin, jagged scar ran from his temple down across his jaw, but it didn’t make him look any less dangerous, if anything, it made him look more intimidating. What the hell is this guy?
The other was shorter and stockier, his skin a warm, sun-kissed bronze that gleamed with a faint sheen. His broad shoulders and thick arms flexed beneath rough leather sleeves, every muscle honed and powerful like a predator built for speed and strength. His face was rugged, with a strong jawline dusted with coarse stubble, and his eyes glinted a sharp amber, wild and fierce. There were no horns I could see, but his snarling mouth revealed sharp teeth, just barely visible behind his lips. What the double hell?
I didn’t have a clue what either of them were. Trolls? Demons? Orks? My brain scrambled for answers, but all I could do was stare and hope they didn’t decide to eat me for lunch.
They gave me a hard once-over, noses wrinkling in disgust at the mud coating my skin and clothes.
“What the fuck is that smell?” one of them muttered. The other gave me a pointed look.
The man who carried me just sighed. “Mud. She’s covered in it.”
One of them gestured at me, voice low and rough. “She stinks like a swamp. How the hell are we supposed to find the mark under all that?”
The one who had held me didn’t reply, but I saw the flicker of irritation cross his face.
I didn’t bother looking at them. Instead, I just listened as they argued, the first man defending me like I was some kind of wild animal he was desperately trying to explain.
I could tell from their voices that none of them trusted me, or at least weren’t sure what to make of me. But I wasn’t interested in their judgment. I was too busy glaring at the mud dripping from my sleeves and wondering how the hell I was going to get out of this mess.
The three men argued in quiet bursts, the tension thick and unyielding. They spoke about me like I wasn’t in the room, like I was some problem to be solved rather than a person.
Finally, the tallest man looked at me, expression unreadable.
“You’re coming with us.”
No pleading, no softness. Just a command. And I realized, this was far from over.
Thank you for reading! Please vote :) Updates will be posted on Fridays.
Subscribe to my Patreon to read ahead: