Savage Betrayal (46 page)

Precious Copper ran to her brother. The two hugged, then she stepped back, looking up at him. “It’s so good to see you, brother.”

“Have they treated you well? Tell me the truth. If they’ve done anything—“ His fierce gaze rested briefly on Feast Giver.

“They’ve treated me very well,” she assured Fighting Wolf.

“Oh? What about the chief’s son, here? Has he bothered you?”

She flushed. “No,” she answered in a quiet voice, looking down at the ground.

“Did you know,” he addressed Precious Copper, but never took his eyes off Feast Giver, “he has the audacity to ask for your hand.” Fighting Wolf laughed heartily, fully expecting his sister to join in. When she didn’t, but continued to stare at her feet, the laughter died in his throat. He looked at her in angry surprise. “Surely you don’t expect me to consider his offer seriously.”

Precious Copper raised her eyes to his. She glanced once at Feast Giver who was watching them with troubled eyes.

“Precious Copper, it’s not the way I would have told you,” began Feast Giver earnestly.

“Stay out of this,” ordered Fighting Wolf.

“How can I?” demanded Feast Giver. “I’m very much involved. I told you I want to marry her and I meant it.” He turned to the dark-eyed woman, his heart in his eyes, and said softly, “I love you, Precious Copper. I want you for my wife.”

The silence was broken by Fighting Wolf’s snort. “Fine words, Hesquiat. But I’ll tell you right now, you’re not good enough for her. You have no name—“

“Thanks to you!”

“—and your wealth is nothing! Many of my sister’s suitors come from families with many slaves, many furs. What do you have?” he asked contemptuously.

Feast Giver’s hopes plummeted. What did he have to offer such a desirable woman as Precious Copper?

“She’s only a hostage,” inserted Thunder Maker. He spat on the ground, showing what he thought of that status.

Fighting Wolf ignored him. “No,” he shook his head at Feast Giver. “You just won’t do.”

“Brother, I must speak with you,” interrupted Precious Copper urgently. “In private.”

Fighting Wolf looked at her impatiently. He said nothing, however, as the two stepped out of earshot of the Hesquiats.

“Fighting Wolf,” she hissed at him. “I want to marry Feast Giver!”

“What?” Caught off guard, Fighting Wolf could only stare at his sister. “You want to marry him?” He jutted his chin in the general direction of Feast Giver. “He’s not good enough for you, Precious Copper. His family is poor now, they have no name—“

“Yes, yes, I know,” she answered hastily. “I heard you before.” She drew herself up to her full, diminutive height and looked her brother firmly in the eye. “Nevertheless,
he
is the man I want to marry.”

While Fighting Wolf pondered this new development, she added, “Besides, his family is not that poor. They still control several fishing territories and rivers. The Hesquiats are still the most powerful tribe in this area. As for their name, it was respected until you pulled that ‘marriage’ trick on them. You have to accept responsibility for that.”

Goaded, Fighting Wolf replied, “But Feast Giver?” He made the name sound synonymous with “worm.”

“And another thing,” continued Precious Copper. “He saved me. Kwakiutl marauders seized me; that’s when I went missing from our village. They killed the two slaves I had with me. The marauders were just about to violate me when Feast Giver and his men rescued me.” She touched his arm. Sincerity shone in her deep brown eyes. “Feast Giver saved my life.”

“So you want to marry him out of gratitude?”

“No, it’s not that. Since living here at Hesquiat, I’ve had a chance to get to know him. I—I love him, Fighting Wolf.”

Fighting Wolf searched her countenance. He saw that love displayed nakedly on her entreating face and sighed heavily. He hoped Feast Giver was worthy of her. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let me marry him. Convince the rest of our family that it’s a good alliance!” She paused. “Fighting Wolf, I’ve never met a man like him. I would never be satisfied with those other suitors you mentioned. I know it. I want Feast Giver.”

“I suppose I could convince Scarred Mouth that it would be a good match,” Fighting Wolf mused slowly.

“Oh, thank you, brother!” She hugged him. “Thank you.”

“He’d better treat you well,” Fighting Wolf answered gruffly.

She smiled. “He will.”

They rejoined the three waiting members of Thunder Maker’s family. “My sister has convinced me to reconsider Feast Giver’s marriage proposal,” announced Fighting Wolf grudgingly.

He would not tell them yet that he’d agreed to the marriage. He could use his assent to advantage later with these wily Hesquiats. “In return, I wish to speak with Sarita.” Thunder Maker and Feast Giver looked ready to deny his request. “Alone.”

Surprisingly, Sarita stepped forward. “I’ll talk with you.”

Her father looked about to say something, then changed his mind. He nodded. “Very well.”

“Follow me,” said Sarita shortly.

Obediently, Fighting Wolf followed Sarita along a path that led from the village. They walked along in silence until they came to a small clearing. Sarita approached a boulder that was to one side of the open area, and sat down.

She turned to look at him. “What is it you wished to say?” Her heart was beating rapidly, whether in fear or anticipation, she couldn’t tell. But she was sure he could hear it.

Her tawny eyes met his unflinchingly. Fighting Wolf stared back at her, drinking in her beloved face.

“Are you happy here?” he began cautiously. Perhaps if he could get her to relax first, he could find the right words to persuade her to return with him.

“You traveled all this way to ask if I’m happy here?” taunted Sarita.

His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Your happiness has always concerned me,” he responded good-naturedly.

She watched him for a moment, wondering where this bantering Fighting Wolf had come from. Certainly she’d seen little of him in the time she’d lived at Ahousat. “Oh? That’s why you took me as a slave? So I would be ‘happy’?”

“I did my best to keep you happy,” he shot back. He leaned closer, his face near hers. “And succeeded, too. Especially at night.” His grin told her he was remembering some of their more passionate interludes.

She flushed, and turned her head away from those mesmerizing eyes. His nearness disturbed her. “What are you here for?” she demanded. “To take me back into slavery?”

“No,” he answered simply.

“I don’t believe you,” she spat.

“Marry me, Sarita.”

For a moment, she was speechless. She stared at him. His eyes were narrowed as he watched her intently. She shivered.

She recovered quickly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he answered softly.

She tilted her head and watched him, amazed at this new side of the man she thought she knew so well. “Don’t play with me,” she snapped.

“I want to marry you,” he insisted. “I want to take you back to my village and keep you with me. I love you.”

“Why?” she whispered. ”Why are you doing this? Is it not enough to take my body? Must you take my heart, too?” He was lying, all lies. He had found her one weakness so unerringly. To tell her he loved her…

“Are you here to complete your revenge?” she managed at last. “Is this the final step in your plans? Convince me that you love me so that I’ll go back with you? Then, when I’ve fallen in love with you, when I’ve believed all your lies, you can cast me aside in a final, vengeful gesture?”

She stood up. “It’s a fine plan, Fighting Wolf,” she said, her heart breaking inside. If only what he said was true, that he did love her. Even now, she wanted to cling to that hope. “But it won’t work. I won’t come back with you and be your willing victim.”

She stood very tall, very dignified. He couldn’t help but admire her regal pride. She truly was lovely. He clenched his fists at his side.

“I want you,” he said in a low voice. “I want you, and I’ll take you any way I can get you.” Forgotten were his vows to cease his pursuit of her. Forgotten was everything but her, and his overwhelming desire for her.

She shivered under the impact of his words. He looked so ruthless. “No,” she responded shakily. “No!”

She took a step away from him, but it was too late. His arm snaked around her waist and held her in an iron grip.

“Let me go!” Sarita pounded her fists against his brawny arms, then, when he didn’t flinch, against his hard chest. “Let me go!”

“Not until you say you’ll marry me,” came his reply, hot in her ear. He seized her hair with his free hand and held her head immobile, then his lips were plundering hers, his strong body molded against her softer one. His warm, firm lips demanded, then cajoled her response.

She struggled against him, but realizing his greater strength, she gave up her feeble efforts. His kisses were too strong, too potent, and too much what she had longed for those many lonely nights. How she wanted to be held in those strong arms and never let go.

Relaxing against him, she gave herself up to his demands, and her arms stole around his neck. One strong arm supporting her, he arched her body back.

Fighting Wolf’s enticing masculine scent was strong in Sarita’s nostrils. She could feel the hard length of him against her stomach. Eagerly she returned his kisses. As if drugged, she melted under his heavier weight and they sank to the mossy ground together.

“Oh, Fighting Wolf,” she moaned. “It’s been so long—“

“Too long,” he murmured. His hand was under her kutsack, stroking the back of her knee, then sliding up her leg, pushing the garment out of the way. “You feel so good,” he whispered. Callused palms were running across her slightly rounded stomach. She tried to push his hand away. “Let me,” he breathed. “Let me touch you.” His strong fingers were stoking closer and closer to her womanhood.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned. His hands were doing wonderful things to her body. His harsh breathing in her ear told her he was as aroused as she was. She couldn’t stop him now, even if she wanted to.

His hand was making lazy circles over and around her. He gently cupped her mound of Venus. Somehow they were both naked, then he was leaning over her, his thighs warm against hers. His kisses were more forceful now, matching the screaming desire in her. Parting her legs with one of his own, he was nudging against her. “Open your legs for me,” his husky whisper grated against her.

She started to close her legs.

“No, it’s too late for that,” he chuckled deeply.

Frantic, realizing how close she’d been to surrendering to him, she struggled once more. His hands pinned her wrists gently against the moss as he looked into her eyes. “I’ve got to have you,” he murmured thickly.

“Please,” she moaned, not knowing if she was pleading for him to let her go or to take her. His knee was against her womanhood, and she splayed her legs open to him. Gently, firmly, he pushed, then he was inside her. She gasped at his entry, then they were moving as one in the ancient rhythm. She held his shoulders close to her, licking and biting him lightly. In response, he drove deeper into her.

His fingers were between them, touching, gliding in circles over her womanhood. She felt herself rising spirally. In a burst of sunlight, she clutched him to her, moaning his name over and over. A sweetness enveloped her and she cuddled him to her as though she would never let him go. Then he stiffened and cried out her name. She felt him shudder with his release.

They lay together afterwards, their arms wrapped about each other, breathing evenly at last. He kissed her gently on the forehead. “Well?” he asked confidently. “Will you marry me?”

Sarita froze. How could he pretend he wanted to marry her? After what they had just shared, why couldn’t he be honest with her?

“Marry you?” Her voice was sad. “You don’t want to marry me. You just want to trick me. You Ahousats are stronger that we Hesquiats, you have more men, you take whatever you want. Why keep up this pretense of wanting to marry me?” she asked bitterly.

“What pretense?” he asked, his voice dangerously even.

She looked at him, despair in her eyes. “You don’t have to pursue your revenge, Fighting Wolf. Don’t you see? You’ve already won. I love you.”

She stood up hastily as she spoke, throwing her kutsack over her head and knotting it with fumbling fingers. Fighting Wolf rested on one elbow and watched her frantic movements.

“Fighting Wolf, I love you,” she repeated defiantly. “That’s why I won’t willingly return to Ahousat with you. I will not be used and tormented by a man who doesn’t love me—“

“But I do love you!”

She shook her head. “I know you will lie and cheat to get whatever you want.” She was angering him now, she could see it in the ugly look that crossed his face, but she rushed on, heedless. “Yes, and even kill. But I refuse to go to a man who values his revenge above my love. Or who would leave his child in slavery!”

With that, she whirled and ran swiftly back along the path that led to the village. Fighting Wolf leapt to his feet, intent on pursuit. Her long, dark hair rippled as she ran like a deer from his sight.

He paused.
Let her go
, he thought
. She can’t run far—never far enough to flee from me!

Hair tousled, Sarita arrived breathlessly in the village. She glanced quickly at the beach before darting into her father’s longhouse.

Everything looked much as when she’d left. The grim Ahousats were still sitting in their canoes, watching the wary Hesquiats who were lined up on the beach, their weapons poised. Precious Copper sat apart from everyone, and waited patiently as Feast Giver and his father conversed nearby in low tones.

Quickly running a comb through her tangled locks, Sarita managed to get most of the snags and moss out. Straightening her kutsack, she went outside to join her family.

Her father appeared surprised to see her return alone, but words died on his lips as a Hesquiat scout rushed up, panting heavily.

“The village—the village—“ The man could hardly get his words out, he was so out of breath. Sarita surmised he’d run at top speed for quite a distance. “Ahousats have surrounded the village!” he got out at last.