Falcon’s Captive (2 page)

H
er muscles, tendons, and heart working as one, Jola raced over rocks sharp enough to shred skin. Her lungs repeatedly collected and expelled air, but even when she couldn’t pull in enough oxygen to fuel her system, she couldn’t convince herself to slow down. Cool wind abraded her cheeks, arms, breasts, and belly, and for these moments, she wanted nothing else.

Movement. Flying—when she could. Running otherwise.

Her world was awash with colors that resonated in her soul. She loved the wind and the endless browns, greens, grays, whites, even hints of black. Most of all she loved the vast horizon with her birthplace, Raptor’s Craig, in the distance. She longed to return to it and surround herself with memories, but she’d spent last night there and hadn’t found the peace she longed for.

Her body and heart wanted one thing: movement. That’s why she was here today, that and the need to study the newcomers as she’d done back before she’d chosen her mate and then again two days ago. While in mourning, she hadn’t concerned herself with the newcomers, but when hunger had pulled her away from grief and sent her in search of prey, she’d spotted them.

Hatred had consumed her then. It still did.

As soon as she stopped running, the sweat coating her flesh would start to chill, and she’d be forced to go in search of the sleeveless hide dress she’d thrown off when too-familiar energy first lent strength to her legs. It was better to keep running, to move instead of think. To fight tears.

After pushing her long, black hair off her neck, she turned and set her sights on the great lake. Fortunately, the intruders had set up their camp on the bank opposite from Raptor’s Craig. Otherwise, she would have been forced to acknowledge Raci’s killers when grief had been all consuming.

A handful of the invaders was out hunting this morning. Keeping her eye on five men was easier than trying to keep track of the twenty-some who’d laid claim to the far lakeshore.

Or was it? Her Falcon senses had always worked in the past, but she was no longer sure of anything.

Angry at herself because she’d vowed to let go of what she couldn’t change, she stopped and rose onto her toes. Her hands went to her breasts and she tightly cupped them as their jiggling quieted. Full breasts while in human form were as much a curse as a gift. Raci had been fascinated by them. Embracing them, her mate would whisper that they belonged to him as much as they did to her. And she’d believed him. Would still believe—if Raci hadn’t been murdered.

Swamped by tears, she lowered her head and closed her eyes, sucking in oxygen. But even as she concentrated on cooling her lungs, she knew only one thing would blunt the pain: running. And when she’d returned to Raptor’s Craig, which was the only place the change from human to raptor and back took place, flying.

“I miss you so much,” she muttered as if Raci were beside her. “Yes, I must come to grips with your death and walk into my future. You wouldn’t want me to drown in sorrow. But you should be alive. Those newcomers—killers—had no right. If I knew whose arrow pierced your heart, I’d tear him apart!”

She should release herself, but touching her breasts felt so good. Better than loneliness. Not as exciting as Raci’s hands had been and yet—

“Death stole you before the final bonding,” she muttered, careful to keep her voice low. “That’s what hurts so much: knowing I’m not carrying your offspring! That and knowing these
creatures
are responsible.”

Barely able to stifle a cry, she pinched and then massaged her nipples into hard nubs, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t make herself believe that Raci was holding her. Afraid that memories of finding Raci’s cold Falcon body with an arrow through his heart would overwhelm her once more, she started running again. Her lungs, long accustomed to her need for extreme exertion, immediately expanded. Her heart pumped strong and steady.

Yes! This was life. Freedom. Leaving behind thoughts of revenge.

Her young, naked body made love to the air and she imagined the precious land of her birth watching her legs churn. Finding a well-worn path to run on, she fantasized that a deer was running beside her. They’d share the same heat and speed, the same confidence in their bodies. But unlike the doe or buck, she didn’t have to rely on her legs to stay alive. Instead of fleeing danger, she became a predator and attacked.

That’s what she wanted: images of beak and talons ripping into flesh, the newcomers screaming in pain and fear while she cried out her vengeance.

Hatred rolled through her only to be replaced by yet another emotion. No matter how long or hard she ran, she wouldn’t be able to expel this sensation, and after a moment, she slipped deep into her mind and spun out what her imagination and need had spawned.

Whether they’d been in Falcon or human form, sex with Raci had been fierce and quick. They’d been so hungry for each other that they’d fairly clawed at one another. If they’d had more time together, more than a few couplings, hot starvation might have settled into something quiet that would have allowed them to savor long hours together. Instead of pushing her breasts and cunt at him and demanding he spear her, she would have taken his cock in her hands while he ran his fingers over her wet entrance. They would have gone slowly and carefully, judging each other’s responses so they’d know when to slow down even more or even, briefly, leave each other alone.

They’d play games.

Taking her cue from how the simple falcons her kind shared the sky with mated, she’d tell Raci to lay claim to her body. Even though female raptors are larger than males, she’d demand he control her as a falcon brings down its prey.
I want to pretend to fight you,
she’d tell him.
To pit my strength against yours so you can teach me that you’re stronger. I want you to take me, fiercely and masterfully. Teach me to respect you.

How,
he’d ask.
By forcing you?

Yes! That’s what I want. No longer feeling as if I’m in control of my world but having you take charge. Force a climax from me. Even keep it from me until I beg, or until I tell you that I hate you.

Why?

Because that way I’ll always know my body is yours.

What would it be like to be a captive of the newcomers?

Startled by the question, she rubbed her suddenly cold arms. She’d seen enough of the newcomers to know they were almost identical physically to Falcon males when the Falcons were in human form. In other words, the newcomers might be as fast as she was, which meant that unless she became Falcon, she couldn’t outrun them. Even more unsettling, the newcomers were well armed as witnessed by the arrow that had killed Raci.

The newcomers had no women with them, which meant that they might capture her instead of killing her. If that happened, for the first time in her life she wouldn’t have control over her body or its reactions. She, who had never feared anyone or anything, couldn’t flee or attack. Instead, she’d have no choice but to wait, to experience, to be handled.

To her shock, instead of being appalled, she felt her pussy became damp. Barely aware of what she was doing, she slid a hand between her legs. The instant she did, she pondered what it would be like to have a stranger’s hand there. As his captive, the newcomer would have undoubtedly restrained her. Secure in his superiority, he’d set about taking control. Ignoring her curses and struggles, he’d touch her entire body. His fingers would probe and invade, tease and test. Maybe laughing, he’d strip her of all maturity and sanity. Heartbeat by heartbeat, she’d surrender to the avalanche of sensations until all battle seeped from her muscles and she became primitive, a woman wanting just one thing from this man she hated and maybe feared.

By the time her captor buried his cock in her, she’d be begging for him to have sex with her. If Raci were still alive, she might never think of him again.

Panting, her cheeks and throat hot, Jola abandoned her pussy and again sheltered her breasts. Was it possible? That those she would kill if she could were so experienced with the female body they’d turn a proud, independent woman into something else?

An icy sensation sliced through her, prompting her to release her breasts and start running again. The lake was in the middle of a long, broad valley that made sneaking up on anything around or in it nearly impossible, so she could see far ahead of where her legs were taking her. If any newcomers were on this part of the great body of water, she’d spot him long before he knew of her presence.

She’d attack, claw, and gouge.

A glance at her fingers put an end to the fantasy that she might have been gifted with talons instead of nails today. Too bad. She would loved to be able to pit her spirit-given skills against men who believed their size and weapons gave them the right to rob others of their freedom.

And turn them into sex slaves.

Sex slaves?

She should have asked her chief to explain what he meant when he’d told everyone what he’d overheard a couple of the newcomers say the other night. The two had been out hunting and, instead of returning to camp, they’d lit a small fire and sat there talking about life at Ekew where they’d come from. Not only had Chief Cheyah learned that the newcomers called themselves “Ekewoko,” he’d been privy to a couple of sex-hungry men’s longing for the life they’d once enjoyed at Ekew. Foremost among what they regretted losing was what they’d called their sex slaves. From what Chief Cheyah had gathered, such slaves’ only value came from their use as fuck partners.

Much as the term disgusted her, it also fascinated her. Like the attraction of a fiercely burning log, lightning, or molten lava breaking through the earth’s crust, she was both afraid of and intrigued by possibilities. Touching any of those things might kill her, but what if contact catapulted her into another level? She might discover that she had the power to extinguish the fire, thus saving whatever was burning from becoming ash. Being hit by lightning might grant her access to the heavens, while embracing lava could lead to a journey deep within the earth.

But what about being a slave to sex? Would she be in a state of constant arousal, chasing after men in hopes of being satisfied and using her newfound knowledge of the male animal to give him the greatest pleasures of his life? What about her own enjoyment? Would it outstrip what she and Raci had enjoyed?

Maybe, maybe not. She didn’t dare forget that she’d still be a slave, which meant whatever happened to her wouldn’t be of her choosing.

Slave.
No matter that she tried to run from it, the word rode on her shoulders as she raced toward the lake. Many seasons ago a group of travelers had entered Falcon Land. They’d ridden on the backs of animals she’d never seen before that were larger and sturdier than deer or antelope. A few of the travelers had sat in strange wheeled structures being pulled by other animals. At first she and the other Falcon youth had been fascinated by the strange animals and had discussed at length how they might get their hands on such wondrous creatures, but they’d been forced to admit that the strangers weren’t about to drop their guard when they obviously considered the animals highly valuable. Someday, she and her companions had wistfully mused, they’d find where the creatures lived and obtain some of their own. Unfortunately, no one had any idea what skills were needed to keep the creatures from running off.

Strange animals aside, the most intriguing part of watching the travelers was observing how they’d treated what she’d then believed were prisoners but now understood had been their slaves. At that point, she’d never seen one human treat another as if he was a beast of burden. Because she and her companions had gone out without their parents’ permission, they hadn’t said anything about their discovery. But Chief Cheyah, who’d done a great deal of traveling in his early years and knew many things, had left everyone with a clear if unpleasant image.

Slaves were considered less than human. Their needs and desires meant little to their owners, who handled their possessions as they saw fit. The slaves Jola had observed as an adolescent had been fairly well treated. At least she’d seen no beatings and the chains linking wrists and ankles together didn’t look to be overly tight. Granted, a slave wouldn’t be able to run, but he could walk without risking falling.

And walk they did. Of the five male and three female slaves, not one had ever been allowed to ride the strange animals.

What had bothered her the most was the slaves’ unkempt appearance. They’d plodded with their heads down, and when their masters addressed them, they’d shrunk back, obviously afraid. Once, while in Falcon form, she’d flown close. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to hear what the slaves were saying to each other. A female slave had looked upward and, for an instant, life and light had transformed the dull eyes. Then, as if the female had reconciled herself to what she couldn’t change, her eyes had filmed over again.

Later, a man had come up behind the female and roughly yanked her short dress up, tucking the hem under the cord that sufficed as a belt. Immediately, the female had stopped and leaned forward with her hands on her thighs and her legs spread. Without a word being said, the man had buried his cock in the female’s folds. Instead of the gentle words Raci had used with her, this man had grunted loudly while slapping defenseless buttocks and reaching around to squeeze a dangling breast.

At least he’d come quickly. As for the female, Jola had had no doubt that she’d gained no pleasure from the coupling.

Jola now had been running long enough that even her superbly conditioned muscles were beginning to tire. Smelling the lake, she slowed so she could enjoy the scent. So much life grew and lived near the shore. The surface was never devoid of birds, and she could only guess how many fish lived in its depths. Most days rafts and canoes floated on it, either because a Falcon in human form was fishing or simply relaxing there. Ever since the newcomers had taken possession of the sunset side, however, the only time anyone ventured into the lake was to fill cooking pots or bathe. And no one ever went alone.