Dark Need by Clarissa Wild

Chapter 8

Soren

Present

Fury overcomesme as I snap at the one thing that put me in this position.

That made me experience this much volatile pain.

Pain I’ve never experienced before.

Pain that makes me want to gouge myself with my own knife.

I know pain.

I’ve lived with it for most of my life.

The pain I’m used to is the one I inflict onto others.

But this? This is on a whole different scale.

This is pain I have to swallow away and count down the seconds until it disappears.

But it keeps hurting, keeps pounding against my leg, my thigh, my crotch, and nothing I do will erase it.

Because she is here, looking at me with those doe-like eyes.

Those eyes will be the death of me.

Even when I yelled at her, she’s still there, right in front of me, clutching her blanket like she isn’t afraid of me.

But she should be.

I could kill her with my bare hands.

I could squeeze the life out of her and make this all end.

And the second she tries to reach for me again, I roar like hell.

She stumbles backward, almost falling on her ass, the sympathetic look in her eyes completely vanished and replaced by fear. Pure and utter fear.

Not the kind I could ever enjoy, but the kind that reflects my own image like a mirror.

And it makes me hate myself.

I grunt and punch myself in the gut to distract myself from the pain.

“Stop,” she mutters.

But I do it again until the pain subsides, and I can finally crawl up on my knees again.

She’s still there, huddled against a tree, the rope between us always reminding me of my duty.

I promised him to bring her to the location, safe and sound.

And I almost fucking tried …

I lean up and stare at these hands that almost wrapped themselves around her neck. The longer I think about it, the angrier I get, and my hands begin to shake.

I throw her one look, and she instantly flinches and makes herself tiny as if she thinks I’ll come after her next.

My nostrils flare, and I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes to focus on the here and now. To get myself to calm down, I repeat the same mantra over and over again, the one I was taught at a very young age.

Do not give in to sin.

Control yourself. Control your emotions. Control your thoughts. Control your voice. Control.

The adrenaline surging through my body slowly ebbs out until there’s nothing left but restraint and regret. Until there’s nothing left but the memories instilled in me so very long ago, still lodged in the back of my brain.

* * *

Age 10

“Push harder!”

My trainer’s whip comes down on my shoulder, and the slight sting doesn’t faze me, but it does force me to put every ounce of my strength into pushing these boulders aside.

My body hurts from all the training I’ve endured, but I will continue.

This is what I was born for, what I will die for.

I was taught from a young age never to give up, and I don’t plan to either.

“C’mon, I know you can do this faster, Soren,” my trainer quips.

When the whip comes down, I’m not prepared, and I hiss as I go to one knee.

“Focus on the power and strength of will,” he says. “There is no honor or glory for those who give up.”

“I’m not giving up,” I hiss back.

Another strike of the whip follows.

“Do not speak back unless spoken to. Control your emotions. Control your thoughts. Control your voice.”

Her stern voice reminds me of the power she holds.

Of who I really am and what I amount to.

Endurance to pain and suffering. Unending strength and will. The hallmarks of a good fighter, bodyguard, killer.

Whatever it is that we’re chosen to do, we will be better than the best.

And to be one of the trained ones is an honor I should not take lightly.

“Good,” my trainer says when the boulder is in place. “Now pick up the knife.”

I do what she asks without questioning why. This is what’s expected of me. My heart and brain must be turned off in order to be what they want me to be: a warrior out for blood.

I grab the knife off the stump and take it with me as we walk into the barracks on the far end of the establishment. A man kneels chained to the floor, his head resting on a pillar, eyes closed.

“Cut off his finger,” my trainer says.

I comply without saying a word.

The man cries out in pain as I cut off the flesh and take his finger, holding it up for him to see.

I don’t know what his crime was or why he deserved this, but I know he deserved it.

Our system only punishes the sinners, not the righteous.

And sinners deserve every ounce of pain they receive.

“Please …” the man begs. “No more …”

He’s already lost three fingers to other trainees I sparred with the other day.

And it won’t stop until all of them are gone.

“Do you want to know what he did?” my trainer asks.

I shake my head.

She smiles. “Good. Because you don’t need to know, do you? You punish when you’re told.”

I nod.

“And once your training is done, you will do whatever your owner requests from you. Is that understood?”

Again, I nod.

Her fingers curl around my shoulder, and she whispers into my ear. “We will be so proud of you. You will make the maidens very happy.”

* * *

Present

I openmy eyes again and turn my head toward the sound of her breaths. She’s still sitting against a tree, watching me from what she thinks is a safe distance. But nothing is safe when it comes to me.

I was born a fighter, a killer … I was not born to play bodyguard to a girl whose very goal is to escape my grasp.

Especially when that same grasp put me in the position I am right now.

I sigh out loud and force myself to put my emotions aside.

There is no point in dawdling because it will only make things harder.

So I get up and grab my shirt, putting it on again, before stuffing all of my belongings back into the bag.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

I throw her a glance and then tug at the rope.

She’s pulled forward on her knees. Her blanket barely covers her body, an inch of skin peeking underneath catches my attention, and I immediately look away, biting my tongue until I can taste the blood.

“What the …? You can’t expect me to walk when I’m not even dressed?!” she yelps. “Jesus Christ.”

“Stop,” I growl at her, and I pick up her shirt and pants from the ground and throw it at her.

She scowls at me before saying, “Turn around.”

I roll my eyes but do what she asks. Some rumbling and muffled sounds ensue, so I glance over my shoulder to make sure she’s not doing anything stupid. But all I catch is her shirt being pulled over her belly button … and her eyes staring straight into mine.

Fuck.

I look away again right as the chucks the blanket at my face.

I pick it up from the ground and stuff it in the bag before tugging at the rope. “Come.”

The rope tightens as I walk away, while she’s standing there with a bold look in her eyes as though she means it. As if she could ever defy me.

But in these woods, I make the rules.

“Follow me,” I bark.

“No.”

Her defiance isn’t like before. It’s tamed and controlled, and her eyes are watery. Like she’s upset, but I don’t know why. I’ve given her the chance to put her shirt on. I’m not making her walk around naked.

I could.

Especially if she keeps talking back like that.

“You treated me like shit,” she adds.

I frown.

Out of all the things she could protest … she chooses this to be the hill to die on?

“Tell me why.”

My eye twitches. “No.”

When I try to move again, she doesn’t budge, and I’m contemplating whether to drag her with me, but she wouldn’t last long if I tried. So I sigh and turn around to look at her again.

“Yes. You owe it to me,” she says.

I roll my eyes and rub my beard. “Fine. It was a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she retorts. “I saw you. You were wide-awake.”

I can’t deal with this. I don’t know how to react to this woman.

On the one hand, I have to bring her to our destination, and on the other hand, she’s driving me nuts to the point where I’m not sure we’re going to make it.

“You tried to hurt me,” she says.

I rub my lips together and close my eyes because I don’t know how to handle this situation. I hate talking. Every word I spit she uses against me.

But worst of all … it gives these women a way to worm their way inside my mind.

She’s right, though. I’ll give her that.

“It scared me,” she says.

I know.

I saw.

She doesn’t have to say it out loud.

But I guess she wants me to feel it.

Tough luck.

Men like me don’t have emotions.

At least, that’s what I tell myself, but when I look at her, something in her eyes undoes me.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Her shoulders rise and fall as she turns her hands into fists. “Promise me you won’t hurt me.”

My eyes twitch, and rage burns my core again. After all the shit she tried—running and fighting me off—she wants me to make her a promise?

“No.”

I turn around again and tug at the rope, but her body stays solid like a rock. Still, I continue, even when a clear thud is audible.

“Fine, then drag me along! I don’t care!” she yells.

I’m dragging her whole body along with me, and the added weight isn’t something I enjoy. Especially not when she grabs a tree.

“Let go!” I snap.

“NO!” she yells back.

I’m prepared to march over to her and give her some pain she’ll remember, but when I turn around and spot the red marks and small bruises on her skin, I stop.

I never stop.

Not for anyone.

And still, she made me stop.

I take another deep breath as I watch her clutch the tree as if it’s her only lifeline. Soil covers her body along with the marks from the short time I dragged her. And for some reason, it stings.

We stare at each other for a moment, her face as contorted and twisted as mine.

But the stakes are high, and I refuse to give up.

She knows.

She knows I cannot let her do this, even if I wanted to.

Eli gave me a job, and I’m going to see it through to the end.

I blow out a breath through my mouth. “Fine. I promise.”

A flicker of light fills her eyes with joy, and a small but wretched smile spreads on her lips yet disappears again with the snap of a finger.

She blows out a breath too and gets up from the ground, patting down her clothes like she’s trying to look proper or something. I don’t give a flying shit what she looks like as long as she follows.

“Now come,” I command.

I expect her to dig her heels into the ground again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she walks behind me quietly, obediently, like I’ve wanted this entire time. Albeit with a rope stuck between us.

I guess we’re both going to suffer as long as this journey lasts.

Because me saying those words is exactly what she wanted, and I have no patience for this nonsense.

We’re wasting time, and I have none to spare on a girl like her.

Not when she makes me feel like this. Like I want her to yield to me and only me.

I clench my hands into fists until my nails dig into my skin.

Control yourself, Soren.

The job above all else, no matter the cost.

Even if you end up wanting to kill the one thing you’re supposed to protect.