Shifters’ Fae Captive by Lacey Carter Andersen
Chapter 11
Onyx
I’m usually notone to complain. As a man not born to a life of privilege, I understand hard work. I understand having to do distasteful tasks, for the good of all of us. But this, this I don’t like.
Why do I have to take Ann home?
Probably because I won’t be able to hear her excuses, her complaints, and what has been described by Dusk and Phantom as whining. Plus, I lost the Rock, Paper, Scissors game, a strange game that we learned from the fae that the others like.
But I’m the only one who doesn’t want to get stuck with her, so how is this fair?
Throughout the night, my headache had woken me up a few times. And each time I’d looked over, either Phantom or Dusk was snuggling with the woman as if they’d already mated her. I knew they hadn’t. But I also expected it had more to do with the fact they’d given her their hearts than anything else.
“Hey, we both know you don’t like me, so why not just let me go?” She had stopped walking and turned so that I could read the question on her lips.
It’s strange. Most of the shadow beasts took time to figure out that they could communicate with me, both with their hands, and by letting me read their lips. They would turn away from me while talking, and then realize I hadn’t “heard” most of what they’d said. But this Ann had picked up on the fact too quickly.
Which makes it harder to ignore her.
I point to the path back to our smaller cave.
She glares, and I don’t need to read her lips to know what she’s thinking. But still, the delightful woman slowly mouths the words “Ass.”
I smirk at her, trying not to admire her attitude. “Walk.” I mouth right back.
Flipping that ponytail over her slender shoulders, she lets it fall back along her spine, and continues marching in front of me. Yeah, march. Be mad. Because I really want to be babysitting you right now. Even while the angry thoughts enter my mind, my treacherous gaze goes to her ass. Ann is not as lean as our women, but I find her shapely rear end surprisingly pleasant.
If she wasn’t her, and I wasn’t trying to save the world…
But no, those kinds of thoughts would get me nowhere. From a young age I had discovered that few people could be trusted. Most would slit your throat in your sleep for something you’d willingly give them. My own mother sold me at just a few years old.
I still remember her smile as she shoved me toward the captain and said goodbye over her shoulder. She tossed that bag of coins up and down as she whistled, walking away. There wasn’t even a hug, not even in our final moment together. Just a sense that I would never see her again.
Most kids would have followed her, but I knew that wouldn’t matter. My mom had wanted to be rid of me, and she had. And this Ann? She wants to be rid of me too. Eventually, I’m sure she’ll be successful.
My gaze returns to her. She’s still walking with purpose--fast with strides as long as her legs allow--but it’s not quite enough to keep up with me.
Sighing, I move around her and see her lips form the word, “Ass,” again.
Fine, at least the feeling is mutual.
I try to remain three steps ahead of her now. It seems to quicken our pace through the woods, although every time I look back, I see she’s struggling to keep up with me. I try to not feel bad about it. If she wants to survive out here, she’ll need to get faster and stronger.
But deep down I know I’m not walking ahead of her just to get her in fighting shape. It’s as much to find danger before it finds her as it is so I don’t have to pretend to care that she’s huffing and puffing. Every once in a while, I see a tear that trails down her cheeks. Each one rips my heart out, until I force myself to stop looking behind me.
Feeling sorry for her, growing attached to her, accomplishes nothing.
I stiffen when I sense something behind me and freeze when I see that she’s hurried up to me. Her hand is outstretched, as if she planned to touch me. “I need to rest,” she mouths.
I shake my head. No, we can’t rest. But I could carry her. I sign that back to her, then realizing she’s not understanding me, sign more slowly, pointing from her to my shoulder.
“Not a chance!” she mouths, and I can tell by her face that she’s mad. “I don’t want you touching me.”
Oh, really? She doesn’t want me touching her? Fine, then she can enjoy the rest of our walk.
Spinning on my heel, I keep marching, only briefly glancing back to see her dragging herself along behind me.
The truth is, as much as I hate it, all she has to do to make this thing right is agree to mate with us, to form a bond. It’s not like we’re going to sacrifice her in some religious virgin ceremony. I mean, I don’t know the exact ceremonial procedure, if there even is one, but I highly doubt we’re sacrificing our light fae to save the world. At least, that doesn’t really make sense in the grand scheme.
Because even though I don’t want her as my mate. I don’t want to focus on this sulky woman. If what the elder had said was true, that accepting the mate bond could end this war, with us as the victors, I would accept the mate bond and move on.
I’d decided it in the cave. But now, I’m rethinking my decision. Is winning the war really worth dealing with her? I don’t really mean it, any price is worth defeating the Shadow King, but I am frustrated as hell.
I glance back at her. Even in her anger and frustration. She’s lovely. And her spirit isn’t exactly lacking. We could certainly do worse in a partner.
Mating, in my opinion, doesn’t sound all bad. As a matter of fact, it’s been a while since I “mated” with anyone. So, to me, mating sounds damned nice. Even with the irritating light fae.
But I try to keep my back to her and stay silent.
She lays her hand on my shoulder, and I stop and look at her. My breath hitches but I cover it with a cough I can’t hear. Damn. She’s beautiful.
Her mouth says, “Can we please take a break for a few minutes?” but her hands say “buy me a seat.” A few of the other words she’s trying to sign are wrong, but I’m barely paying attention to them, I’m reading her mouth.
I do, however, appreciate that she’s trying.
Sighing, I stop. I guess we’ve made okay time. Not how quickly I could go on my own, but we’re getting close. So, we stop, and I lean against a tree, shuffling the leather wrapped package under my arm, and watch her.
“What?” She asks.
I just lift a brow. What does she think? Does she think it’s easy to babysit her and go so slowly that a quick trip cuts through far too much of our daylight hours?
She shoots me a glare, and I shake my head and roll my eyes. Women hate that. As a matter of fact, everyone universally hates the go-to-hell eyeroll. It’s why I use it with a degree of undeniable success.
When she walks in front of me, she pops her hands onto her hips. “I know, okay? I know you think I’m selfish, and that I don’t care, but I can’t bond or mate or whatever this stupid idea of that old guy’s is.”
Stupid old guy? This woman is arrogant. And I’ll just say it. She’s high maintenance. Not that she’s asked for anything much over the last couple days besides food and warmth, but she has whined a lot. Even when I showed her the clothes that Imara, the only female shadow beast in this world, had lent her, Ann had simply wrinkled her nose at them. I’d still brought them, tucked under one arm, but I wanted to toss them back to Imara and tell her the female didn’t appreciate them, so didn’t deserve them,
With my hands, I tell her she’s selfish and that because of her children will die. This planet will die. I add the appropriate grimaces and scowls as I sign. It’s chicken shit to say these things to her this way because she can’t understand them but she understands the anger, maybe even the disappointment.
Not because she won’t mate with us, but because… just because.
She hasn’t said a word, probably hasn’t deciphered the signs I’ve used to insult her. But she turns and stomps off like she has a fucking clue where she’s going. At least she’s going in the right direction, so I follow. But this time I stay a couple of steps behind her.
It’s daytime and shadow creatures will all be fast asleep right now since they can only wreak their havoc in the dark of night. And knowing what she can do, I’m not a hundred percent certain she would need me or that I could even be more effective than she could. Still, it isn’t in my nature to leave her to flounder on her own, even if I’m only backup.
We come to the river by our cave. She stops at the edge of it, then looks back at me.
I lift a brow. It’s a river, so what.
She mouths. “I want to wash up.”
Wash up? An image of her naked makes my mouth run dry. My gaze sweeps from her toes all the way up, and I feel my cock hardening with every inch of her body I imagine. When I come to her face, she’s staring at me, one brow lifted.
I straighten, then toss the bag containing the spare clothes at her.
She takes it, nibbles her bottom lip, then looks back at me. “How about some privacy?”
Privacy? Our women preferred safety to privacy. Even in the large cave, our shadow beast female bathed in the center of the cavern. The men did their best to be respectful, and the female was not left out in the open for any attacks.
I start to shake my head, but her entire frame goes rigid.
“I am not letting you see me naked,” her mouth says, as she draws out each word.
Damn it. The stubborn woman did need to bathe.
I give a curt nod, then turn around and walk a few steps to a tree at the edge of the woods. A sudden instinct has me turning back, just to be sure she isn’t running for it. But she’s still standing in the same position, glaring at me.
When our eyes meet, she points to my eyes, then at the forest behind me.
Okay, yes, I’ll look away. She asked for privacy, so I would give it to her.
She reaches for the hem of her shirt, and I forget to breathe. Snapping her fingers in front of her, I remember that I’m supposed to be turned around, and do so. Only subtly glancing back once to see her toss her shirt on the ground, to be sure this isn’t all some ploy of hers.
After that, I keep my gaze on the woods, missing my hearing. If I could hear, I’d know if she was splashing around. I’d hear her if she was in trouble, or if she was screaming for me. With my back turned to her, I feel like I have to let my instincts stretch out around me, to warm me if trouble has come.
Still, the seconds turn to minutes, and the minutes seem to stretch on forever.
I’m about to turn back, the hell with what I told her, when I feel someone behind me. I wait, trying to decide if I’m about to be attacked, or if it’s her, when I feel a light tapping on my shoulder.
Turning around slowly, I see Ann. Her hair is wet, and braided once more down her back. She’s carrying her old clothes, wet and freshly washed, in her arms. And she’s wearing one of Imara’s outfits. One that’s cut to show her belly, and seems to stretch a little more over Ann’s fuller breasts. I’m a bit surprised, as I stare at her, how pale the skin of her stomach is. And how much I like the way the brown leather hugs her shorter legs. The ends have been rolled up above her boots, probably because Imara is so much taller, but somehow it suits the little fae woman.
I find myself smiling.
“Better?” she mouths the word, playing with a loose hair.
I lift my hand, almost touching her face, then draw my hand back. She doesn’t want a mate. She doesn’t want me or the others. I can’t imagine she’d want me to touch her either.
And yet, as I drop my hand, I get the sense that she’s disappointed.
Instead, I nod in the direction we must go.
She nods back, and then starts walking again. We’re almost home, so when she seems to hurry to avoid me, I let her get a little space between us. Or, maybe I need the space away from her too. Not just because my dick is straining in my pants, but because I need to remember that I don’t want a mate.
A fact that keeps getting harder to believe.
Right about now, I wish the others were with me, especially because I feel their reason for remaining behind was stupid. Phantom and Dusk wanted to speak with the elder to learn more of the details about the whispers he’d heard from the shadows about Ann. But whatever he’d heard, it probably didn’t matter, because she refused to be our mate.
They also wanted to ask about her powers. Which, again, didn’t seem worth discussing, even though I’m curious too. Because there aren’t any other light fae around. None that we’ve come across anyway. So even if we realize the fae have some kind of awesome power, we don’t exactly have an army of them to fight the coming battle with.
Ann veers a little out of sight as I keep my pace slow, disappearing behind a tree or bush, then reappears as I catch up with her a second later. It doesn’t really matter, this close to the cave, in the daylight, with just a few extra feet between us. I’m near enough to mitigate any danger.
The thought makes me complacent. Lazy, even. I look away for a couple seconds--literally two--and it’s a mistake.
Fucking hell.
Somehow my troublesome thoughts got me a little turned around, and I didn’t realize she’d veered a little from the path to our cave. She’s found the Void. Or maybe it’s found her. Knowing what I know about her now, that’s evenly possible. How hadn’t I realized she overshot the cave? She’s not ready to see so much so soon, nor should she be this close to it.
I haven’t used my voice in so long that when I try to shout at her, to make a sound to warn her away from it, nothing comes. Not even a vibration from my throat.
My feet are moving faster before I know what I’m doing. Her eyes are wide, and she reaches one hand out as if to touch it. Her fingers don’t come close to it, but it doesn’t matter. The Void drags her in.
Her arms flail and her mouth is open in a scream.
Normally, I’d be slowing down right now. Staying far enough away from the Void to be sure I couldn’t be pulled in also. But none of that matters now. I have no choice, no other way to save her than to go in after her.
And so, I leap in before I even have the chance to look, knowing that I won’t live long enough to tell the others how our lives ended.
