Falcon’s Captive (3 page)

Slowing to a walk that allowed her heart rate to return to normal, she mentally returned to the one time she and Raci had sought solitude here. They’d chosen a small inlet flanked by reeds on all sides. After making sure they had the inlet to themselves, they’d self-consciously removed their clothes and slipped, shivering a little, into the water.

“The final mating ceremony can’t come soon enough for me,” Raci had said as he reached for her. He might have been aiming for her arms, but when his fingers brushed her breasts, she didn’t try to shrug him off. “I have to ask if you’re certain you feel the same way, Falcon girl. I’ll be enough for you?”

“Don’t call me that,” she’d chided. “My name is Jola.”

“Be proud of our heritage.”

“I am, just as I know you are. But when we’re in human form and together, all I care about is being a woman, a woman who is with the man she loves.”

As their arms floated around each other, lips had met, and she’d bent and locked her legs around him. His cock had found her opening, and she’d contented herself with the moment. At least she’d tried. Still, a part of her had stood apart to ponder the complexity of their existence until his warmth and weight and pulsing need filled her hungry hole and became everything.

Sex was belonging. Raci was hers, and she lived to be with him.

Until the day he’d bled until he had nothing left to bleed.

Trusting instinct to guide her now that tears blurred her vision, Jola reached the edge of the lake and walked into it. Cool mud slipped between her toes. After a few more steps, water began caressing her ankles and then her calves. Seeking solace, she continued until the water washed over and between her legs. When it lapped at her buttocks, she acknowledged that the water had imprisoned her. But the lake was more than a force preventing her from fleeing. It was also touch, proof that she was still alive.

Promise. Please let this life-giving water bring me peace.

W
ere there water fairies in Screaming Wind? On the tail of his question, Nakos reminded himself that if there were such things, surely someone would have seen one by now. The likely explanation was that he’d been in the right place at the right time to spot a naked Wilding female enter the lake.

From where he crouched behind a thick bush, the bright sunlight gave the creature an almost transparent appearance as if he was looking at her through a thin layer of water. Her back was to him, affording him a view of loose black hair that reached her shoulder blades. He’d never seen such thick hair, straight and glistening from the sun’s touch. When he’d first spotted her standing at the shoreline with water caressing her feet and ankles, he’d been hesitant to breathe for fear of drawing attention to himself.

There’d been something unworldly about the way she carried herself, youth and strength woven together, that made it difficult for him to accept her as mortal. Her legs were impossibly long and, from what he’d been able to tell before she entered the lake, deeply muscled. Her arms, too, were long, her shoulders wider than any Ekewoko woman’s. She’d yet to turn toward him so he could only guess at what her breasts looked like. Hopefully they were in keeping with her narrow waist and lushly rounded hips and buttocks.

Graceful step by graceful step, she’d made her way into the lake until it now reached her waist. Waiting to see what she’d do next, he tried to formulate a plan. She was a Wilding. As such, he should be planning how to capture her. Once he’d accomplished that, he’d turn the creature over to Tau and Sakima who, he had no doubt, could compel her to tell them everything they wanted to know, whatever those things were. But how could he concentrate on practical matters when he’d never expected to see anyone like her? Granted, he’d come out here in search of a Wilding, but it had been days since one had been seen near the lake. Why she’d exposed herself this way mystified him.

It wouldn’t for long. Once he’d captured her, he’d force the truth from her, although from the looks of her, maybe that would wait until he’d used her to satisfy his sexual hunger.

Instead of the sense of power he expected at the thought of molding her to his needs, he felt unsure. It had to be, he told himself, because he was still learning about this land and the possibility of unknown danger lurking in its shadows. Just as a chill touched his spine, he reminded himself of the open land all around. He’d been here any number of times and had yet to see the slightest hint of a threat. From what everyone had determined, the Wildings were shy and peaceful, more like deer than wolves. Granted, he occasionally sensed he was being watched, but whenever he looked around, he saw nothing except a hawk or other bird of prey.

Instead of measuring the distance between him and the lakeshore, he recalled Tau’s and Sukimo’s reaction to what he’d told them about seeing a bird that flew so fast it was nothing but a blur—and an expert killer. They’d been both excited and nervous but had refused to explain why his description mattered so much to them.

What hadn’t they shared with the others? Maybe a warning from the spirits about small predatory birds capable of killing humans?

This was insanity! He wasn’t afraid of a bird. And he certainly had nothing to fear from a naked woman with long, black hair, a straight back, and womanly hips.

After mentally shaking his head, he studied the distance between them. They were too far apart for a dart to reach her, but among his arrows were two with tips he’d soaked in paralyzing brine. If she was on land, he’d have no hesitancy about using one, but if he fired it now, he’d have to hurry to make sure she didn’t drown before he reached her.

Of course, he could wait until she was done with whatever task or whim had taken her into the water, but what if others of her kind arrived? He’d be compelled to fight them, which meant she’d escape. Another possibility struck him. Even if no one came upon them, she might spot him. If she was as strong a swimmer as she appeared, what was to stop her from setting off for a distant shoreline?

He was still debating that possibility when she lifted her arms over her head and leaned forward. Her lean form sliced into the water and she disappeared. Cursing, he took off at a hard run, reaching behind him for one of the treated arrows as he did.

After too long a period of time, she appeared again, arms moving smoothly and legs beating against the water’s surface. He nearly made the mistake of firing and probably wasting his weapon when inspiration struck. Still running, he yelled.

As he hoped, she stopped swimming and turned toward him with just her face and arms showing. Pulling back on the bow and sighting down his arrow, he held his breath and fired. At first the arrow sped just above the surface at a slight downward angle. Then, as he’d planned, it struck the water. That caused it to change direction slightly but it would still reach its target.

Not waiting to see her reaction, he dropped his weapons and plunged into the lake. Water closed around his legs, slowing him. From this angle, he could no longer see her arms. However, her head remained above water, letting him know that the poison hadn’t yet entered her system. He didn’t for a moment doubt that his arrow had struck her; he didn’t miss.

As soon as he was deep enough, he started swimming. His powerful arms cut through the water, and his legs propelled him forward. Still, he wondered if he’d reach her in time. And if he didn’t…

Refusing to give freedom to thoughts of having to repeatedly dive in an attempt to retrieve her, he acknowledged how cold the water was. The unexpected chill left no doubt how deep the lake was here or how quickly the bottom dropped away.

Damnation. She might drown.

Strength surged through him. He now likened himself to a fish cutting effortlessly through the water, but he wasn’t one. Instead, he was a man suddenly afraid that a valuable life might be lost. Even as he ordered his body into rhythm, he once more questioned why both his shaman and lord had been so determined to get their hands on a Wilding. Untamed the way she was now, she had almost no value.

Beyond her sleek limbs and glossy hair, he corrected. Beyond her unabashed nudity. Beyond her breasts and hips and that sweet, dark space he knew existed between her legs.

He wasn’t sure he’d reached the exact spot where he’d last seen her, but he had to be close. Stopping, he treaded water as he looked around. It was impossible to determine whether the small waves and bubbles were caused by his movement or whether she was responsible for any of them. What most concerned him was that he saw no dark hair, no thrashing or even floating arms.

Needing to do something, he swam in a circle while reaching out as best he could with both arms and legs. By the time he’d completed the circuit, he was cursing himself for his rash action. Why hadn’t he waited for her to come to shore before immobilizing her? It couldn’t be because he half believed she’d set her sights on the shore far from where she’d gone in. No mortal could swim that far, could they?

Mortal?

He’d just begun another circle, wider this time, when something above him caught his attention. Looking up, he spotted a bird hovering some thirty feet over the lake and slightly to his right. Even as he told himself the small, gray bird’s actions didn’t concern him, he changed course. He stopped when he was directly beneath the bird, then curled his body into as tight a ball as possible and pushed down into darkness. His fingers reached out, fighting the water’s resistance. Before long, the effort used up the air in his lungs. Still, he delayed heading for the surface.

His lungs screamed, and strength seeped from his muscles. Then, just as he acknowledged he’d gone as far as he could, his fingertips brushed something. He closed a thumb and forefinger over whatever it was.

Hair.

Pushing down yet again, he ignored his burning muscles. More strands glided over the backs of his hands, prompting him to grab them. Hair filled the palm of his right hand. Holding on with his dying strength, he executed a far from graceful turn, hauling his burden with him. His left arm clawed at the water that was killing him. Every time he kicked, his feet brushed something warm and soft. Dark pain filled his head, and fear took bites out of what remained of his sanity.

Let her go. Save yourself.

But because his actions had sent her on death’s journey, he couldn’t.

By the time he broke the surface, every inch of his body was on fire. Drinking in all the air his lungs could hold, he treaded water. Only when he trusted his body to obey his commands did he pull the woman’s lean and limp body up next to his, careful to keep her head above water.

Turning her toward him, he shifted his hold so a hand was under her armpit. He brushed her hair out of her face and then placed the back of his hand against her nose.

She wasn’t breathing, wasn’t even trying to.

As a warrior-in-training he’d been taught how to place his mouth against a drowning victim’s and push air into the victim’s lungs, but if he tried that now, they’d both sink beneath the surface.

Time. Time was seeping away from them.

Turning her so her back was against his chest, he looped his arm over her breasts, his fingers gripping her armpit again. As soon as he was certain his hold was secure, he started for shore. She rested against his side, the back of her head on his chest and her face out of the water. Even with the passing seconds striking him like drumbeats, he forced himself to concentrate on making smooth strokes. Speed was vital but so was endurance.

Although the lake was trying to suck the warmth out of him, he felt hot. In contrast, her body was now too cool. But her skin against his was soft and smooth, and he nearly convinced himself he could feel her heart beating and her lungs filling and emptying, but maybe he was only deluding himself.

Again he looked upward. There was no bird.

Whether a bird or his imagination had led him to her became the most important thing he’d ever asked himself. At the same time, he repeatedly told himself it didn’t matter. Only keeping her from dying did.

Despite his protesting muscles, he refused to slow, let alone pause and rest. When, finally, his toes touched the muddy bottom, he nearly called out in relief. Half walking, half swimming, he brought her to shore and dragged her out of the water. Lying her on her back, he sank onto his knees next to her. There was no arrow, only a barely bleeding hole in her side. Obviously she’d pulled it out.

Mud coated her legs, and her hair flowed over her shoulders to cover the top of her breasts. Other than that, he had an unobstructed view of every bit of her youthful body. Because he’d yet to be beaten in battle and so had had his efforts rewarded, he’d seen more naked females than he could remember, but there was something different about her.

Not that it mattered. Pressing his hands against her cheeks, he turned her head to the side. Next he lifted her shoulders and angled her upper body in the same direction, thinking that might help get water out of her lungs. Everything seemed unreal to him. Surely he hadn’t just risked his own life trying to save a barely human creature.

Then she coughed, and relief rushed through him. After a moment, she coughed again, her slim form shaking with the effort. Water dribbled from the corner of her mouth. When her coughing became ragged, he turned her fully onto her side, holding on to her shoulder and hip to keep her in position. She spluttered and gasped, her breasts jiggling. Watching them, he tried to think of something comforting to tell her only to swallow the unspoken words. Just because he felt sorry for her and more than a little responsible, nothing had changed between his people and the Wildings. She was still his captive, potentially valuable merchandise.

When she stopped coughing, he rolled her onto her back again and released her. His arms and legs burned. His heart continued to pound against his chest wall, and his breathing hadn’t returned to normal. From the way she lay with her arms sprawled and legs limp, he had no doubt that the paralyzing poison was still in her system. Maybe, he pondered, that’s why she’d survived instead of drowning. Her body hadn’t had much need for oxygen.

Experience told him it would be a while before she could begin to move on her own, and now that her chest rose and fell, something shifted inside him. No longer being concerned for her life allowed him to thoroughly evaluate the creature he’d taken possession of.

Her breasts were remarkable. Instead of flattening completely against her chest wall, they remained firm and rounded. Her nipples were hard, dark nubs, undoubtedly because the cold water had made them that way. Seeing no reason not to, he caught one between thumb and forefinger. Until now, her eyes had been closed. As they slowly opened, he acknowledged how much effort she had to put into what should have been a simple act.

Curiosity tightened his hold on her nipple. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in air through flared nostrils. Her lips parted, but she made no sound. Strange. He hadn’t expected her to begin recovering so soon.

“I have you, Wilding,” he said. “You might not yet understand what’s happened, but you soon will. And when you do, you’ll do everything you can to get away from me. But you’re too valuable. My lord and shaman have need of you.”

She still wasn’t focusing on him so he pulled on her breast, drawing it away from her body. Her eyes widened even more. She went from staring at nothing to glaring at him. A chill settled against his back, nearly causing him to release her. But if she thought her dark, hate-filled gaze would frighten him, she was badly mistaken. Angry at her—and maybe a bit at himself for his reaction—he took hold of her other nipple and pinched it.

“You should have worn clothes,” he taunted.

Being able to control her this way restored him. Having control also reminded him of how long it had been since he’d fucked. He could take her now while she was helpless, spread her legs and bury his cock in her soft flesh, although maybe he’d first flip her onto her belly so he could take her from behind.