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Authors: Vonna Harper

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BOOK: Falcon’s Captive
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“Be careful?” Sakima warned. “If you try to break her—”

“There will be no breaking of my captive,” Nakos blurted. A lifetime of reverence for his elders kept his arms at his sides, but if his shaman struck Jola, it wouldn’t happen again. “That’s not why I brought her here.”

“Tell me, why did you?”

For a moment he couldn’t fathom Tau’s question, then decided the shaman was testing him. From the way Tau was watching him, he wondered if he was afraid of him, but that couldn’t be. Shamen feared nothing or no one.

“Your command,” he finally answered. “You, and my lord, wanted a Wilding.”

“And you’re the only one who has been able to fulfill our need. Your skill impresses me, not that I ever expected anything else from you.”

Praise from his lord had always touched Nakos; today was no different. Just the same, he didn’t relax. “What happens now?” he asked.

“Now?” Tau echoed. “You have completed your assignment, and received your reward I dare say. Even if you had to force her to—”

“I told you, there was no need for force.”

“No…”

Taking care not to stare openly at Tau, Nakos was nevertheless struck by the shaman’s look of disbelief. Maybe Tau didn’t know as much about Wildings as he’d led everyone to believe. Maybe his dreams only revealed so much.

“Not rape,” Tau said at length. “Then what?”

“Sex. Both of us wanting the same thing.”

Jola, whose attention had been fixed on Tau, glanced at Nakos. Her sleeveless dress covered flesh he’d freely explored earlier, yet he had no trouble calling up her naked form, or what her breasts and pussy had done to him, the way they’d felt. He wondered if she understood why he hadn’t looked at her while they were walking to camp. If he had, he’d have laid her out and buried himself in her again.

Or maybe let her free.

“Is that true?” Tau demanded of Jola. “You willingly fucked him?”

Although she’d held herself straight and tall from the moment they stepped inside the tent, she drew herself up even more.

“I asked you a question! You wanted him?”

“I owe you nothing.”

Coming from another captive, her words would have compelled Nakos to warn her not to anger those who had control of her. Instead he silently acknowledged her courage.

“You owe me everything, most of all your life,” Tau insisted. “I claim you.”

“Claim?” Nakos repeated although he’d known that from the beginning.

“What is it?” A faint smile changed but didn’t soften Tau’s expression. “Now that you’ve fucked her, you want to keep her for your own?”

“I didn’t say—”

“What are we going to do?” Sakima interrupted. “With her, I mean. Tau, the things we’ve been talking about—”

Tau nodded. Using the rope, he again lifted Jola’s arms and went back to studying her hands. Nakos thought she might resist, but she only observed Tau, her expression still unreadable.

“Those things will take time,” Tau said. “Force—”

“No force,” Nakos insisted.

“What is this?” Sakima demanded. “You’re a warrior. You know what it takes to get the enemy to reveal—”

“Maybe we’re wrong to think of her as the enemy,” Tau interrupted, shooting a look at his lord. “She’s a female, not an armed warrior. Females are soft and as such easily broken. But broken she might be of no use to us.”

Nakos had no doubt that something he didn’t fully comprehend was going on between his lord and shaman, secrets maybe. He’d accomplished his mission by bringing Jola to them. His services were no longer needed, neither was his presence. But if he left, she’d be forced to remain with them.

What did it matter?

A glance at her gave him his answer.
She
mattered. She shouldn’t but she did.

“It’s been a long day for her,” he said. “Exhausting. She nearly drowned. The walk here was a long one. She’s had nothing to eat and only a little to drink.”

“And she has to be tired from being fucked by a Ekewoko warrior,” Tau added. “What are you saying?”

“That perhaps whatever you want from her can wait until tomorrow.”

“Until she has had time to fully resign herself to her new lot?” Sakima asked. “Tau, there might be wisdom in what my
son
is saying. A simple creature like her needs time to accept certain things. Once she has, she’ll put up less resistance.”

Still studying Jola’s hands, Tau nodded.

11

E
ven though she longed for the fresh air at Raptor’s Craig, Jola drank deeply of the breeze drifting through the Ekewoko camp. The tent had stank of sweat, and the steam that filled it had threatened to steal all strength from her muscles.

Standing next to Nakos, she acknowledged that he’d been right when he said she was tired. The long walk had taken a lot out of her. That coupled with her dread of what was ahead of her had her wishing she could lie down and fall asleep. Weariness had fled while the men had touched on their plans for her, but now it was returning.

Where would she sleep tonight?

“That’s my tent.” Nakos pointed at a compact enclosure near the rear of the encampment. “But before we go there, we need to eat.”

Her mouth filling at the thought, she struggled to remember everything the three men had said, but the only thing that remained clear was when the shaman had asked Nakos whether there’d been a moment when he thought she might become something other than what she was.

Did he know?

A tug on her wrists brought her back to reality and, feeling like the captured animal the shaman had called her, she trudged behind Nakos. The lounging Ekewoko, as before, studied her every move, and she found it easier to stare at Nakos’s back. Everything about him touched a part of her, unsettled her, and yet he was known while the others were strangers.

Fear she hadn’t experienced since she’d first become aware of Nakos’s hands on her in the lake slammed into her. She stumbled, then caught herself. If he was aware, he gave no notice.

She hated being here! Hated having so little control.

Those staring men were her people’s enemy. If they could, they’d swarm over Raptor’s Craig trying to kill every living thing they encountered. The arrogant Ekewoko thought they had a right to Falcon Land. Maybe they believed it had been created to feed their greed.

And she was their prisoner.

A warm gust of wind slid over her like a caress. Although she knew better than to give anything away by looking up, she said a silent prayer to whoever had touched her.

Thank you for reminding me of who and what I am. I allowed myself to become weak and afraid, but no more! I am Falcon. Brave and strong.

“There,” Nakos said in that quiet tone of his. “Food.”

He was pointing at a circle of stones with a small fire burning in the middle. A pot hung over the fire, steam escaping from the top. A sweet, rich aroma reached her, flooding her mouth again and making her stomach rumble.

As they approached, Nakos explained that the cooking pot they’d seen when they first reached camp was manned by warriors who threw whatever they found or killed into it while a slave was responsible for this smaller one. The slave, who belonged to Lord Sakima, had proven to be an excellent cook.

“Many years ago, Lord Sakima became my father,” Nakos explained. “As his
son,
I have every right to eat here.”

“He won’t mind if I—”

“This is my decision.”

Jola expected the slave to be a woman. Instead, an elderly man with a long fringe of white hair sat cross-legged near the fire. He was so slumped over that his chin nearly reached his knees, and he was snoring.

“His name is Lamuka,” Nakos told her. “I can’t remember when he didn’t belong to my lord. He used to help with many things, but these days all he does is cook, and sleep. He’s the only slave we brought with us when we left our people for Screaming Wind.”

“Why doesn’t he run away?”

“Where would he go to? I don’t know if he remembers where he came from or how to return to it. He’s loyal to my lord, and Sakima makes sure his needs are met.”

That wasn’t a slave. Instead, Lamuka was as much a part of the Ekewoko as if he’d been born to the tribe. Although she couldn’t imagine ever feeling that way, knowing the elderly man was being taken care of released some of her tension. As long as she didn’t have to be near the shaman, she might survive her time here.

She just wasn’t sure about tonight.

 

Nakos’s tent was sparsely furnished. The woven reed mat that served as his bed was covered with a thick blanket made of bear hide. Over that was a less bulky blanket. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she’d made out two more loin coverings and another pair of leather shoes. There were other mounds, which she assumed were more clothes, but her attention settled on the arrows, knives, and spears near the entrance flap.

Thanks to the bowl of venison and root vegetables Lamuka had handed her, her belly was full. That coupled with her weary legs and overloaded mind had her wondering what Nakos’s bed felt like. When she’d been outside, the heavens had called to her, but now there was only this small enclosure and the man who’d brought her into it.

“Sit down.”

She did so, albeit awkwardly because of her tethered hands. He’d released them while she was eating but had remained close by, his presence a silent reminder that trying to escape would end in failure. She hadn’t tried because she hadn’t been up to fighting him again today. Tomorrow, somehow. Once she felt restored.

“Tau is going to want you,” he said once he’d joined her on the bed.

“I know.”

“And I won’t stand in his way. You need to understand that.”

“I do.”

“But not tonight.”

Tonight. Locked in a small space with the man who’d robbed her of her freedom and made her scream. She shivered, then tried to flex her wrists. As before, they were crossed over each other, all but useless. Granted, her legs were free, but he was bigger than her, stronger.

“Why the questions about rape?” she asked, stalling.

“You’re the conquered, and because you are, they assumed that was the only way we’d have sex.”

“But they knew there would be sex. Why? Because that’s the way of all Ekewoko warriors?”

It was nearly dark inside the tent, the only illumination coming from several small slits along the sides that let in the setting sun. Nevertheless, she had no doubt that his eyes had narrowed. His breathing turned sharp.

“I haven’t fucked for a long time. Neither has any other warrior here.”

“And that makes it all right for you to—”

“Enough, Jola!”

His anger frightened her but only a little. What, she wondered, would he think if she told him that his need for sex couldn’t be any stronger than her need to become a predator right now? Just thinking about soaring into the sky and watching the moon and stars emerge made her heart burn. Determined not to let him into her thoughts, she turned from him.

His breath hissing, he grabbed her shoulders and jerked her back around. “Listen to me. When I hand you over to Tau and Sakima, they’ll do whatever they believe they need to in order to get certain information from you. Now that they know we all speak the same language, they’re going to demand everything.”

“What do you mean, everything?”

Still holding her, he slowly shook his head. She tried to tap into his thoughts, but his fingers on her distracted her. Maybe if he hadn’t already buried his seed in her, he wouldn’t have this impact on her; maybe.

“I wish our paths had never crossed,” she told him. “If only I hadn’t gone running and then decided to cool off in the lake—”

“Why did you?”

A thousand reasons, restlessness and grief crashing together, wild energy and feeling as if her skin was too small.

That wild energy was returning, slipping into her veins and heating her heart. With predator blood flowing through her, she should want to tear her enemy to shreds. Instead, if she was in Falcon form, she’d tuck her talons against her body and fly in tight circles around him.

Compel him to mate with her.

But that would never be! He was human, the enemy, not one of her kind.

Pressure on her shoulders splintered her thoughts, and he’d pushed her back and onto his bed before she could pull reality around her. He existed as a male shape looming over her, potent muscles giving out insistent messages and his swollen cock rubbing her thigh.

“This might be our last time together,” he whispered. “I want to remember it.”

“What if that isn’t what I want?”

“But you do.”

How could a whisper have so much impact, she wondered. Then, as the tip of his cock touched here and there, she acknowledged that his voice was only part of it. Weariness still clung to her, quieting her maybe and stealing some of the fight that had always been part of her. She felt as if she was floating as she had in the lake before he’d turned her world over. At the same time, her arms and legs were becoming heavier and heavier. Instead of trying to push him away, she let the bed—his bed—support her. Her breasts were gaining weight and becoming more sensitive. Her nipples knotted.

Releasing her shoulders, he slid his hands along her hips, making her shiver. Then he took hold of her garment and tugged it up her body until it settled around her waist. She could have fought him, should have!

No, she shouldn’t.

“A test,” he said, “of your body.”

What do you mean,
she needed to ask, but letheragy had reached her throat. With no purpose in mind, she fisted the soft blanket.

There, his hand, on her hips again but this time without anything between their flesh. Pressing her nails into the fabric, she ground her teeth together.

Ah, his hand, sliding up over her pelvic bone and down to the valley where her belly lay. His fingers, gliding over flesh that danced under his touch and sent shiver after shiver into her core. Sweat broke out on her throat and between her breasts, forcing her to clench her fingers until they cramped.

“You’re soft here.” He stroked her belly. “Incredibly soft.”

“Ah.”

“You agree, do you?” His voice sounded labored, and sweat bloomed where his thigh pressed against hers. “Yours is a woman’s body, all woman. No matter what Tau may have thought, this is all you are.”

He was wrong, of course, but at this moment with this man over and against and on her, it didn’t matter. Even as parts of her expanded, she was becoming smaller, weaker, a creature spinning helplessly in a whirlpool.

“Here,” he whispered, still laboring, “what do you feel when I touch you here?”

A finger, she couldn’t tell which one, slid into her navel. It filled her, pressure sinking deep and finding her core.

But she wouldn’t moan, she wouldn’t!

Ignoring her cramping fingers, she lifted her head off the bed only to fall back because his finger remained in her navel, taking ownership. Stripping her down so she didn’t know who she was.

“I should stake you out, spread your arms and legs and tie them to posts I’ve driven into the ground. I’d have already stripped you naked, maybe blindfolded and gagged you so you’re aware of nothing except me.”

“Why?”
By the spirits!

“Because I can. And because it’s what we both want.”

“How dare you say—”

“Don’t,” he warned and yanked her arms over her head.

Before she could think to react, he’d pulled up on her garment until it was against her armpits and her breasts were exposed. He’d released his hold on her arms, but although she might have been able to tug her garment back around her waist, she didn’t try. Either that or she couldn’t pull herself together enough to think how the task was completed.

Somehow he switched from a kneeling position to stretching out next to her without giving up ownership of her navel. Now, not only did his cock press against her outer thigh, his breath dampened her breasts.

“I love knowing you’re on my bed. And touching you like this.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken her breast into his mouth; she could survive it, she could!

But maybe she didn’t want to.

Not sure which it was, she tugged at her hair and tried to remember how to breathe. Her hips kept lifting off the bed. She kept squeezing her thighs together.

Ignoring her pitiful attempts at movement, he sucked on her breast, prompting her to arch her spine. Pain from pulling on her hair did nothing to distract her from the awful waiting, the hungry wanting.

When he removed his finger from her navel, he granted her a full heartbeat in which to try to convince herself she was going to survive. Then that same finger slid between her legs and over her pussy. A tremor dove from the top of her head down to her toes.

“There it is,” he fairly growled. “Your body revealing itself to me.”

She was already practically naked so what could he be talking about? He answered by swiping his hand over her cunt while she struggled to blink away the red film that had stolen her vision.

“Taste yourself,
slave.

This time the word slave was a caress, a deep voice speaking to her heart and pussy. When he touched her mouth, she gasped, then parted her lips. His fingers tasted of sex, her wet and wanting sex.

If he’d insisted, she would have sucked him as deeply into her mouth as he’d taken her breast and maybe more. Instead, she ran her tongue over his fingers, wondering why he’d abandoned her core so soon.

No, he hadn’t. Answering her silent plea, his hand returned to her traitorous pussy and drank from what might be an endless store of heat.

And then, not soon enough, he was giving her another taste of herself and she was licking, swallowing, licking some more.

He freed her breast, but she barely gave it thought. How could it matter when he was on the move again?

Handling her as if he’d been doing this one task his entire life, he spread her legs and climbed into the space he’d created for himself. She’d thought he’d waste no time positioning her for sex, asked herself if she was ready. Instead, he rocked back so his buttocks rested on his heels and rested a palm against her pubic hair.

So close, not close enough.

Much as she wanted to meet his seeming indifference with the same, she couldn’t make herself relax. They were going to fuck; she knew it. So why was he making them wait?

“Some men, sex slave trainers, can condition a female so this is the only thing she wants.” He rubbed her mons, stopped. “I’m not certain how that’s accomplished, probably through a series of lessons. I’ve heard it said that females trained to heed only their bodies’ needs make the best slaves.”

BOOK: Falcon’s Captive
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