Page 13 of Mated to Monsters
Even from this distance, the sound of women shrieking can be heard. And where has it gotten them? Trapped or killed, and I will not put myself among their ranks. Sweat beads on my forehead and I push harder than ever. My heart feels like it’s about to burst, and my breath is coming in ragged gasps. Still, I run.
Trees shudder behind me as he tries to navigate them, those thick branches too knotted for him to slip easily through. Finally, I have the luxury to glance over my shoulder, and find him cutting through the thicket with battle hardened fury.
He is almost twice my height, a being of pure, pale muscle with the strength of five men. The way he wields his weapon makes me think he’s already cut down a number of us before he got to me. What confuses me most is the way he was standing in the doorframe, just staring at me. He could have come upon me and knocked me out while I was searching for Matt and Beth.
He could have cut me in half when I was staring into the cellar.
But he didn’t.
He wanted something from me. That was the sign he’d given me, his palm open as if he was asking me to take his hand. If he could speak, why didn’t he? Still, he could say something coherent, reasonable, long enough to make me realize he is, in fact, cognizant.
Is he an enemy of the dark elves? If so, why are they attacking us, too?
This has to be some grab for power by a race we’ve never seen before. But what do they want? Neptherium? Land? I swallow hard as I chase that elusive freedom. Slaves? I will not be made a slave again, not while my family is out there, somewhere. They need me, and if I had to choose between masters, I wouldn’t hesitate to return to the dark elves.
The thought is a hateful one.
I can’t stand the idea of going back to them with my tail tucked between my legs. As if Gidresu was a generous master in the first place. I scramble over a low hillock as the creature bursts free of the thicket, his blade drawn, his pale gaze homed in on me.
My limbs are on fire with overexertion but I stifle a surprised shout, nearly tumbling down the hill in retreat. There’s something so infuriating about this creature.
He just won’t give up!
"Your enemy is behind you," I mutter beneath my breath, though I want to shout it at him. "Not me."
Compared to these giants, I am diminutive, and cannot fathom that I hold any worth to them. Perhaps they do not tolerate rejection, and he has taken offense to it. If he was so grounded in propriety, however, then why hasn’t he spoken yet?
I land in a heap at the bottom of the steep hill, and he comes sliding after on his heavy leather boots, not giving me an inch. Again, I’m forced to dodge his reach, twice before I round a thick tree, rolling as he swipes for me.
This close, I can feel that dark energy rolling off him.
I don’t need to be a dark elf to feel it deep inside of me, like a frigid current lapping against my bones. I pull back violently, sweeping up a stick and brandishing it against him. “Stay away from me!” I warn.
He looks at the weapon, confusion coming over his sharp features.
With the flick of a wrist, the tip of his weapon disarms me, sending the branch flying into the trees. It was as easy as breathing for him, the accuracy not lost on me. He could have flicked it across my throat, and watched me bleed out at his feet.
Instead, he approaches even as I back away.
The woods have gotten denser here, and I have no place left to run. That’s when I spot a break in the bushes, and an open field beyond. It could be my last chance to get away from him. I take a big breath, then leap through the gap, rolling on the exit onto a grassy knoll.
As I rise, a weight bears down on me, forcing me onto my back.
He has pinned me to the earth, his weapon cast aside to hold me fast. There’s something cold and metal in his other hand, and I recognize it immediately: a collar.
With all my might, I surge against his unyielding bulk, flailing and finally losing myself to a scream. His ears drop back against his head as if the sound irritates him. My leg comes up and I knee him in the jaw, forcing him to let me go.
I scramble out from beneath him, only to be dragged back under. This time, though, his expression is fierce, and instead of a collar, his bare palm presses against my forehead, shoving my head back against the grass.
I fight the sensation that his touch summons, writhing against that heavy blackness that threatens to overtake my vision. But there’s something so sweet about oblivion, and I finally surrender to it as it drags me down, down, down, into its velvet depths.
10
GIROTH
My frustration has gotten the better of me, and I put her to sleep with just a touch of my chaotic energy that flows through all demons. But now that she’s unconscious, I can admire her wherewithal. She fought valiantly against her capture, going so far as to threaten me with a puny little stick when all the odds were against her.
Her face is soft in sleep as I hoist her small form over my shoulder and carry her back to the settlement, content with my haul. Even as I consider that she’ll make a fine breeder, the thought sits wrong in my gut. That’s not all she’s worth, though I don’t know if anyone else will recognize it once we return to Ti’lith. I decide to keep her with me on the return journey, in case the others get too curious about her.