Willing Sacrifice Page 12

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you sick?”

  He covered her hand with his, unwilling to let her pull away. He wanted to tell her that he needed her, that he loved her, that if she would just look deep enough into his eyes, she’d remember how much she loved him, too. Instead, words jumbled on his tongue, tangling together until nothing would come out.

  Her other hand found his wrist to gauge his pulse. “We should go back. Your heart is racing.”

  Of course it was. It always did when she was near.

  “I’m okay.” He shoved the words out, his voice thick with his untimely need.

  “You feel feverish.”

  No surprise there. He burned for her. “I’m fine. Really.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, as if deciding whether to believe him. Torr forced himself to back away from her touch and pulled a water skin from his pack. The liquid cooled his tongue and eased some of the tightness in his throat.

  He offered it to Grace, watching as her mouth covered the spot where his had just been. He knew if he took another drink, he’d be able to taste her, but not in the way he was dying to.

  When she was done, she licked her lips, causing another spike of lust to punch through him.

  He turned away to put the water back and took some time to rearrange his load so that his damn erection was hidden from view. The thing was going to make hiking uncomfortable, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that—not when he still had to follow along in Grace’s wake, her shapely legs and sweet bottom right in front of him.

  There was no way he could look anywhere else—he wasn’t that strong a man—so he was stuck with the raging hard-on for the foreseeable future.

  “Do you want to sit a minute?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, a little too fast. Just the idea of trying to bend his body to sit on the ground hurt. His jeans had dried overnight, leaving them nice and stiff. If he tried to sit now, he would unman himself. “Let’s just keep going.” And I’ll try to keep my damn eyes off your backside.

  “If you’re sure. We can stop anytime you want. It’s going to take a while to get where we’re going.”

  They hiked for another two hours before Grace came to a stop at the crest of a ridge. From here, the break in the trees allowed them to see to the forested landscape below. To the left was a lake, and on the right were several plumes of smoke from small fires. A few of the trees had been cleared away, but he couldn’t quite make out anything else.

  “That’s the southern village,” said Grace.

  “Doesn’t look very big. Why don’t they live with you?”

  “Brenya says it’s not safe. If we’re attacked, she wants at least one group to survive, so we’ve separated ourselves.”

  “Are you attacked often?”

  “No, and it’s always been animals wandering too close. But Brenya was always worried, like she knew something was coming.”

  “Guess she was right. The Hunters are definitely out there. Does this village have adequate protection?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is there another Brenya guarding them the way she does your village?”

  Grace shook her head. “There’s no one else like Brenya, but the Athanasian women who come here seem to be able to protect themselves. This is where they live until their time comes.”

  “Their time?”

  “To have their babies. They come to Brenya to deliver their children. Then they leave.”

  “Where do the babies go?” he asked, but seeing the children of various ages in the village, he suspected he already knew the answer.

  “They stay with us. We raise them until they leave.”

  The ultimate sacrifice. That’s what Brenya had said. Now he understood.

  “Where do they go then?”

  “Some of them go to Earth. Others . . .” She shrugged.

  “You don’t know where?”

  “Brenya doesn’t say. She sends them into the light. We never see them again.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, catching fiery rays of sunshine.

  “You miss them, don’t you?”

  She nodded, sniffing away the tears. “It’s just sad that the few people in my life I can remember have to leave. I know it’s important, but it’s hard sometimes.”

  Torr ached to pull her in for a hug, offering what comfort he could. The only thing that stopped him was his worry that what started as a hug would become more. He couldn’t resist this woman, and if she opened herself up for more than comfort, he knew better than to think he’d be strong enough to walk away.

  Honor demanded that he remember why he was here, that he was a stranger to Grace, and that taking advantage of this situation would be a kind of betrayal of his vows.

  He couldn’t do that to her. He was supposed to be earning her trust so she would have someone to lean on when she went back to Earth.

  So instead of forcing himself on her, he forced himself to focus on gathering what information he could. He had no idea what might be useful to know someday. “Does Brenya arm the women she sends away?”

  “No. Some are given an amulet with their name on it, but that’s all.” She looked back out toward the southern village. “The women who live there train hard and know their way around a fight. Even unarmed, they’re more dangerous than any animal I know of in these woods.”

  “Should we stop and check on them?”

  “It’s harder to get there than it looks because of the terrain. By design. If we go, we won’t make it to the crystals before dark.”

  “Maybe on the way back, then?” He really didn’t like the idea of a bunch of women living alone with no Brenya to protect them, no matter how tough they were. He didn’t even know if they were aware of the threat the Hunters posed. If he could stop by, warn them, and see with his own eyes that they were safe, he’d feel a lot better.

  “Sure. There’s a better way to reach them from the western side. I’ve gone that way a couple of times with Brenya, so I think I can find the trail.”

  They headed east, down a steep, rocky slope. By the time they reached the bottom, the air was steamy from the heat of the twin suns. Even in the shade, humidity wrapped around him, pressing heavily on his chest.

  A little stream ran through the valley, and they stopped at its edge. The clear water called to him, but he waited, keeping watch over the area while Grace cooled off in the water.

  She unwrapped the leather strips from around her calves, letting the thick hide soles of her shoes fall away. Her feet bare, she stepped into the stream and knelt on the sandy bottom.

  She scooped up water in her hands and splashed it over her face and neck. While her leather tunic was modest and opaque, when it was wet it conformed to her body, displaying every one of her tantalizing curves. Even her tight little nipples were visible beneath the thin leather, puckered against the cool water sluicing over them.

  Torr’s mouth watered as desire heated his body further. Sweat trickled down his spine, warming the metal disk Grace had put on him. The narrow slit running down the back of her tunic showed him flickering glimpses of the matching disk she wore.

  She’d said she could feel him through that disk. She didn’t know that it was him feeding her those emotions when they were worlds apart, but he wondered now just how much more of him trickled through now that he was close.

  A compelling idea took over, tempting him beyond resistance.

  He let go of his restraint, let himself feast on the sight of her, let himself imagine what it could be like if she were to turn to him and welcome him into her arms.

  Her tunic would be little more than a fleeting nuisance. He’d studied the garment and knew that the only thing holding it closed was a single leather tie at the nape of her neck. Whatever lay beneath it wouldn’t stop him from reaching the bare flesh he so desperately craved.

  He could have her naked, spread out in the shallow stream, feasting on her honeyed flesh while the water lapped around them to coo
l their fevered skin. In his fantasy she didn’t deny him anything, not even the sweet, clinging wetness of her body as he thrust deep within her.

  A delicate shiver raced over Grace, shaking her frame. She crossed her arms over her chest as if to hug her aching breasts. Her head turned enough for him to see how slumberous her eyes had become, how flushed her skin had grown.

  Her gaze caught his, and he knew she’d felt him—felt his lust as her own. The disk that connected them could transfer more to her than sadness and anger. It could give her pleasure, too.

  There was nothing he wanted more in this moment than to please her.

  The urge to grip his cock in his hand and see if he could make her come when he did was almost too much to bear. Only the thought of how scandalized she might be watching him jack off kept him in control. For now it was going to have to be enough to know what he could do to her without so much as a single graze of his finger across her skin.

  Part of him felt cheated that he didn’t have the contact, but the smarter part of him realized the gift this was.

  Torr could make her burn for him. He could make her feel good. That alone was enough power to make his head swell with feelings of conquest.

  Grace was his. She always had been. And now he knew just how he could remind her of that without saying a single word.

  His vow to Brenya might restrain what he said, but nothing else. Including his tongue. And the things he wanted to do with his tongue were enough to make his blood heat even more.

  Before they left this stream, he was going to know exactly how every inch of Grace’s body tasted.

  Some distant warning sounded in his head, but he no longer cared. He was going to possess the woman he loved. Now. If he didn’t, he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

  Torr took a step toward her. His boot sent out ripples at the edge of the stream. Her hands fell to her sides, revealing the puckered tips of her breasts beneath the wet leather. Her thighs clenched together in a movement he knew all too well. Feminine desire rolled off her in waves, shimmering in the air between them.

  A thick fog billowed down the far hillside, muting the forest noises and hiding them from the world.

  He took another step, forcing himself to move slowly and give her time to catch up with the need raging through his blood.

  Her gaze slipped down his chest, lingering as it passed over his lifemark, visible between the edges of his open shirt. Then lower, her stare was caught by the sight of the bulge in his jeans.

  He didn’t even try to hide it. Let her know what he intended, let her see what she did to him.

  Grace’s breath misted out, forming a silvery cloud around her head.

  Something about that was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. His mind was too focused on her to worry about a little bad weather.

  She reached for him, her palm up, her hand outstretched in anticipation of his touch. He’d dreamed of a moment like this for far too long not to tremble under the sheer beauty of it.

  A sound somewhere between a crack and a hiss rose up from the far bank of the stream. The water seemed to lighten, and a silvery gray cast began to spread across the surface.

  The water was freezing. The air grew cold and brittle.

  The languid, inviting smile Grace wore iced over, turning to terror.

  The Hunters—the ones that froze everything around them—they were here.

  Chapter 15

  Grace realized the danger too late. She’d been so enthralled by the feelings singing through her body that she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings. She hadn’t seen the Hunter approach.

  She saw it now.

  It was perched on a rock outcropping only a few yards away. Its glossy black body sparkled, and its eyes moved one at a time until both were fixed on her.

  Panic set in, solidifying the air in her lungs. Sweat froze along her skin, and she swore her heart was trying to beat its way free of her rib cage.

  The urge to flee set in, stealing all other rational thought. She tried to stand, but ice had already hardened around her knees, locking them in place. She slammed her fists down on the frozen surface, but it was already too thick to break, and growing thicker by the second.

  The stream kept running, piling more water on top of the ice. Layer by layer, her legs were being encased faster than she would have thought possible.

  Torr let out a cry of rage. One second his hands were empty, the next they held a gleaming sword.

  He charged toward her, his face twisted into a fierce battle mask.

  For a second, she thought he was going to cut her down. That old, greasy fear slithered through her, urging her to hide and cower. But instead of hurting her, Torr leapt over her, landing on the opposite side of the stream.

  The creature’s attention shifted to him. Its flat body curved around and reared back to prepare to charge. Every time it moved, she heard the sound of broken glass chips grinding against one another.

  Torr attacked. Steel met black stone in a shower of sparks. Small shards of shiny rock flew out from the blow, but that didn’t slow the thing down.

  He shoved the creature away from Grace, causing it to slide over frozen, crunchy foliage.

  A few feet to her right, the stream ran free of ice. A branch had fallen there—maybe one she could use to pry the ice away from her legs.

  She leaned sideways, reaching out as far as she could. The tips of her fingers barely brushed the wet bark, causing it to shift away from her.

  To her left, a horrendous crashing sounded in the trees. She spared only a quick glance—long enough to see that the creature had shoved Torr into a tree hard enough to knock it over. He roared in pain and fury. The creature screeched, letting out a sound like pottery smashing on stone.

  If she didn’t get free, there was nothing she could do to help Torr. It was taking all his effort just to keep the thing from coming after her.

  She pulled the short dagger from her belt and flipped it so the blade was in her hand. The ice was up to her thighs now, and her lower legs had gone numb.

  She reached for the branch again. The small crossguard on her dagger caught the rough bark, and she dragged the end of the branch close enough that she could grasp it.

  Water cascaded over her as she lifted the branch and started bashing it against the ice. A small crack formed, only to be immediately filled with more rushing water that froze on contact.

  A terrifying screech exploded from the creature. Her head whipped around to see what had happened, but all she saw was a rain of glassy black shards falling over Torr’s body. Each one left a small cut in his skin, but he didn’t seem to notice the pain. His gaze was fixed on a point over her head.

  She looked where he did and saw another of the Hunters inching closer to her across the ice. She hadn’t even seen it approaching.

  A fresh wave of fear shook her, making her arms go weak. The branch fell to the ice and stuck. She struggled to push herself up, but it was no use. As water ran over her fingers, it began solidifying, trapping her hands, too.

  Her panic made her stronger. She ripped her hands free, cracking the thin layer of ice that pinned her fingers. Blood swirled in the water sliding by for only a second before it, too, became part of the ice. Several of her braided rings tore loose, but she was too numb to feel them go.

  The Hunter prowled closer, its shiny black teeth easily visible now. Water droplets coated its body, but it shook like a wet dog, spewing pellets of ice.

  Torr came to her side. He was careful to stay on the edge of the ice where no water was flowing to trap his feet. He moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. His sword spun in a graceful circle as he approached the creature, drawing its attention away from her.

  “Can you pry yourself free?” he asked her, his voice as calm and even as if he were asking about the weather.

  “No.”

  “Okay. Hang on. I’ve got this.”

  Before she could ask what he mean
t, he charged with brutal speed. She had no idea how he kept his balance on the ice, much less accelerated. But he did.

  A moment later, he bulldozed right into the creature, sending it back over the ice and into the brush along the stream. The pommel of his sword slammed down on the thing, and chips of gleaming black rock flew out.

  The creature screamed, the sound like shards of glass in her ears. It set off another one of those spurts of panic that made her try to shove herself free.

  Her bloody hands clung to the ice. She didn’t feel any pain, only a searing numbness at the ends of her wrists.

  By the time she had the sense to think of lifting her hands away before they got stuck, it was too late. Ice formed over her fingers, pinning her. She was completely trapped. Completely helpless.

  As the realization set in, so did the cold. She started shivering uncontrollably. Her rapid breaths misted out, clouding her vision. She caught fleeting glimpses of Torr in combat with the creature, but she couldn’t tell if he was winning.

  Lethargy weighed her down. Every few seconds, she’d feel a warm breeze sweep past, taunting her with hope.

  The sounds of combat grew distant as Torr drove the creature away from her. No more ice formed over the old, but it was already too late. The ice was up to her breasts now, chilling her every breath.

  She was going to freeze to death in the middle of summer, and her sluggish brain couldn’t think of a single way to stop it.

  Battle crashed in the woods. The fight seemed to last for hours, and each one was filled with shivering cold.

  The world grew quiet, with only the sound of water rushing by. Everything was dark, but she was too confused to tell if it was night or if it was just that her eyes wouldn’t open. She could smell the forest, but it was crisper and sharper than it should have been.

  “Stay with me, Grace.” Torr’s voice. Then a heavy pounding and cracking sound.

  Her whole body was numb, but she could tell she was moving. She didn’t know how.

  “Open your eyes, honey. Show me you’re okay.” Was that panic she heard in his voice?

  Grace tried to comply but couldn’t remember how. She couldn’t even remember how to tell him she was sorry she’d let him down.