Taken by the Enemy (2 page)

“That’s not going to work anymore, little bird, I know you’re not as harmless as you look.” Lucian’s voice was calm even as he manhandled her through the branches, letting them scrape her arms and stomach where her shirt had lifted in her struggles. Panic filled her as he pushed her farther and farther from her pack.

“My bag!” It was the first thing she’d managed to choke out since she’d been able to breathe, but he didn’t slow.

“I know where it is, but you need to learn a lesson first. Kneel.” The toe of his shoe pressed into the back of her knee making her leg buckle under her, and his hand in her hair forced her the rest of the way to her knees.

“I’ll never kneel for you!” Emmie shouted, stumbling clumsily back to her feet without the use of her hands. Their eyes met, and the dark heather gray of his seemed to grow darker as he towered over her.

“That’s where you’re wrong, little bird.” His hand moved faster than she could react, not like she could have defended herself with her hands bound, but she quickly found herself draped over the huge log in front of her. Her dark hair dangled towards the earth on the other side, her toes seeking purchase on the ground, and then his hand landed on the middle of her back, effectively pinning her to the ancient, downed tree as his other hand slid under her to the button of her pants.

“No!” she screamed, but he ignored her. His knuckles had to be scraped raw from the bark by the time the button was free, yet he was undeterred as he yanked her pants down her legs until they gathered like bolos around her ankles. “Don’t touch me, you bastard son of a—”

The first strike of his palm across her ass silenced her, it stung and she tried her best to arch off the log, but he pressed her back down. He didn’t stop with one, his strong hand landed again and again, turning her skin to fire with each new spank he laid. When he finally paused, her own breath hitched from humiliation and anger, and she was stunned to feel his fingers kneading the soft, warm flesh. “Apologize.”

“What?” she asked, and his hand answered with another sharp strike, lighting up her skin anew. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Emmie screamed as loud as she could, jerking at the ropes around her wrists until she felt them rubbing raw.

A rapid series of hard spanks was her initial answer, they landed one after another, a new fiery pain each time his palm struck her tender skin, and he continued until she was whimpering and limp against the log. Then he paused again, his fingers brushing the hot skin. “I want you to apologize. For hitting me, for being disrespectful, and for being
ungrateful
that I saved you.”

“You call this saving me?” Twisting at the waist, she looked up at him through the curtain of her hair and found him sitting beside her on the log with a stern expression.

“The fact that the boar is the one gutted on the forest floor and not
you
should speak for itself.”

“I’d rather deal with the boar.” She spoke through gritted teeth, and then his palm returned harder than before. One, two, three. Her back arched from the pain, the searing ache as her already sore ass screamed under the torment, but she bit back the urge to beg. She wouldn’t beg this raider, this enemy of the city, for anything.

His hand slid up her back until it tangled into the messy remnants of the braid she’d had it in. In an instant, he snapped her head back, making it difficult to breathe, and then he slid her panties down. The loss of that last barrier, a fragile strip of fabric, somehow brought tears to her eyes faster than the pain of the next series of spanks.

“You’d rather deal with the boar?”

SPANK.

“You would rather be gored to death than apologize for hitting the man that saved you?” His voice raised, but she screamed right back.

“YES!” Her voice hiccupped as he landed a particularly vicious swat at the place where her ass met her thighs, forcing her to squirm against the firm grip he held on her hair. The skin across her backside had to be red by now, because she could feel the intense heat, the tenderness of it as his fingers trailed over the round globes – and then dipped between her thighs.

She snapped her thighs shut, but he pinched the tender skin and she cried out. His voice was unforgiving. “Open your legs.”

“Don’t! Please, I’m sorry!”

“Too late, little bird.” His pinch turned sharper and she eventually spread her knees to try and stop it, pressing her cheek to the rough bark of the log as pain zinged through her like lightning across a night sky. When the pain finally abated, she was so relieved by its absence that she didn’t immediately recognize the presence of his legs between her own – until a finger slid inside her.

“Stop!” Emmie cried out, but he ignored her. His finger slid easily in and out, and shame turned her cheeks crimson.

“You’re soaked, little bird, I think you want this as much as I do.” Lucian’s voice was a growl as he forced a second finger inside her and she whimpered.

Everything in her body was at war. There was pain from the onslaught of the spanking, and an uncomfortable stretching as he forced his fingers inside her, exploring and rubbing, but underneath it all she was astonished at her own response. No boy she’d ever clumsily kissed in the darkened corners of a ballroom had incited a reaction like this, not even when they had groped at her, guiding her hand to the hardness in their pants. Not even the ones who she had slipped away with. “Please,” she whimpered.

“You had to know what was waiting for you when they kicked you out.” His fingers withdrew, and for a moment, she was able to breathe, able to absorb the pulse in her skin from his swats. “Out here, you either earn your place with us – or die.”

He thrust his cock inside her in one brutal thrust, and she screamed over the low moan that reverberated behind her. For a moment, she only knew pain, her body shivering as the size of him stretched her viciously, and then he withdrew slowly only to thrust forward again. Emmie whimpered, clenching her hands into fists as he rocked her hard against the bark of the tree, thrusting again and again until the stunning pain started to abate.

Lucian’s fist tightened in her hair, dragging her back slightly across the log until her body was angled just right for him to fuck her hard. She braced her thighs against the bark, trying to breathe, but then his other hand slid around her hip and between her thighs to rub against the apex. She bucked as he deftly found her clit, hating herself as a moan escaped her lips, but his low growl affirmed he’d heard her.

It felt impossible that he would so quickly identify how to touch her, when none of the clumsy, fumbling boys she’d snuck off with before had come close – she’d been the only one to discover the right pressure, the right tempo to send her to the glorious edge that was quite suddenly lurking before her.

“Stop…” she begged, not wanting to come apart beneath him, but he didn’t cease, and soon even his thrusts were adding to that golden haze inside her mind. It was cruel and taunting as pleasure overrode the situation she found herself in, and she shattered. Pleasure rushing in to blur the lingering aches. A half-hearted scream escaped her as he growled, his cock driving deep inside her.

Then he was still, and the only sound came from their harried breathing and her sniffling as she went limp across the log. His weight pressed her hard against it for a moment, and she just wanted to be away from him, wanted the scent of his warm skin off of her. Lucian lifted away from her then, as if her silent thoughts had reached him, and then she heard him curse. “– the fuck?”

He had completely released her and she dragged herself off the log, the bark scratching at her belly as it lifted her shirt until she sat on the ground, bound and unable to move with her pants around her ankles and the rope around her wrists. She saw the faint blur of red between her legs and then closed her eyes to it.

“You’re a fucking virgin?” he shouted at her, but she just leaned against the log, burying her face in the veil of her loose hair. Lucian didn’t stop though, he grabbed her arm and shook her until she lifted her head. “You’re a virgin?”

“Not anymore.” The words fell flat as they moved past her lips, but he turned away from her with a stream of expletives that likely curled the unfallen leaves above them. Stomping away into the underbrush, she pondered the ache between her thighs and wondered why she had waited. Had she really been saving herself for some advantageous marriage? Some ridiculous rite amidst the people she despised?

What had been the point?

“Get up.” Her pack landed to her left, thrown by the log he had just – he had just
fucked
her against. She didn’t move until his sharp grip on her upper arm hauled her to her feet, and she almost stumbled as her pants tangled her feet. “Shit,” he muttered as he steadied her and then pulled her panties up her thighs, followed by her pants, which he delicately buttoned into place.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a moment, and then he muttered something unintelligible and snagged her pack from the ground in one hand, pulling her forward with the other. Emmie stumbled through the leaves after him, a numbness bleeding into her from the sore place between her thighs and the ache across her ass.

“Tell me your name.” His voice was strained as they grew closer to the sound of the men he had arrived with. When she didn’t respond, he stopped, still hidden in the trees away from the sounds of laughter and joking. Heather gray eyes met hers as he lifted her chin. “Name.”

For a moment, she wanted to tell him her entire name, the name that would draw down the anger of an entire city upon him. She wanted to rain down fire, she wanted vengeance – but there was so much more than revenge waiting on the other side of the name
Emeline Anne Daniau
, so she didn’t. It took a hard swallow to clear her throat, a cough and a deep breath, but she finally whispered, “Emmie.”

“What?” he asked and leaned closer, and she thought for a moment about head butting him. The thought almost made her smile, but it would have been useless.

“Emmie,” she said, more clearly this time, and he nodded.

“
Emmie
,” he repeated, his grip relaxing on her chin. “Okay, little bird. Time to go home.”

There was nothing comforting about the cruel words shouted over her head by the men as they marched back towards what Lucian had called
home
. He had her pack over his shoulder, the youngest among them had her blanket, and she stumbled after him unbalanced with her hands still bound behind her back.

This was not what she had imagined
.

At no point in her preparations had she even thought she would encounter the raiders, the exiles of the city, but here they were. A group of wild men in old clothing, carting a boar and a woman back to their camp as if it were a normal day.

What day was it anyway?

Emmie counted in her head – it was Friday. If she were still at home, there would be coffee, and sweet cakes. A story read aloud while she lounged across a couch, her head dangling towards the floor as she imagined herself as the heroine being swept up by some glorious hero. Girlish dreams. A dream that had been ridiculous from the moment she thought of it.
Lucian
was her reality, these men were her reality, and a shudder moved through her as she tried not to think of what awaited her.

As they crested a rise in the forest, her mouth dropped open at the small village laid out before her. Well worn paths crossed between small shelters that nestled themselves into copses of trees before winding off into the woods. There were women sitting on the ground together, a few small children chasing each other through the trees, squealing and giggling. Other men walked in pairs, or alone, some carting wood, baskets, or tools. The sheer normalcy of it all made it all the more ridiculous. A laugh burbled up inside her and escaped in a hysterical sound that made the closest group of women snap into silence.

“Jean!” one of the women shouted, her voice tense, and a little boy froze in the middle of the pathway. The other children froze too, and suddenly there were too many eyes on her. Silence spread through them until there was only the sound of the wind in the trees, the crackle and pop of small fires, and distant bird calls.

Lucian’s hand dropped onto the back of her neck, squeezing tight as he pushed her into motion again. The group moved forward as well, and it made Emmie’s stomach turn as people lined the path to stare openly at her, a few of them whispering to each other. Crimson heat took up residence in her cheeks and she leaned her head down, trying to hide between the loose strands of hair.

“Phillipe!” A woman’s voice broke the silence with shrill glee, and the thin blonde launched herself full force into one of the men with her. He caught her in his arms with a loud laugh, and she wrapped her legs around his hips and kissed him the way Emmie had imagined people did in the stories she used to read in the dark of night.

The act seemed to turn the sound back on in the small village, and suddenly there were too many voices. Names being called, the laughter of men and women, and Emmie had never felt more like an outsider as she stood under Lucian’s strong grip.

“Henri, Paul, take the boar to the fire pit so they can start preparations.” He was smiling when he turned back to the gathered audience, his face completely transformed into that wild beauty she had first seen breaking through the brush. Taking a deep breath, he roared, “Tonight, we feast!”

A cheer rose up, and he was clapped on the back as he pushed her through the group. Most of them followed the boar, the children rapidly firing questions at the adults, and while numerous eyes landed on her, they rolled off like water to look at something else.

Emmie couldn’t resist turning as much as she could to look at the strange community that looked as if it had sprung from the forest itself. The small shelters were formed from branches and animal skins, covered in fallen leaves and some even had flowers stuck into the gaps. It seemed impossible – these couldn’t be the raiders. The raiders were vicious animals, mindless murderers, thieves, rapists…

Well,
Emmie thought to herself,
at least one of those categories seemed to fit.

As he guided her, they moved farther and farther away from the bustling center and away into the trees. The shelters started to space themselves further apart, until finally the path came to an end at a slightly larger, older looking structure.

“Lucian, you’re back! Get us anything to eat?” A man pushed himself up from the ground near the entrance and stepped forward with a broad smile. His hair was a long, reddish-brown, and his eyes roamed over her as his smile faded into a much different grin. “Well, you at least got
something
to feast on.”

Emeline growled low. “Just try it, asshole.” She tried to jerk away from Lucian’s grip on her neck, but his fingers tightened viciously and held her in place.

The man’s eyes widened, and he laughed, but Lucian’s dull nails just pressed into her skin, his mouth close to her ear. “What did I tell you about respect?”

She spat at his feet and Lucian threw her forward onto the ground, barely able to catch herself on her shoulder instead of her face. “Shit!” Emmie groaned as the ache radiated up over her back.

“You found a wild one!” the man shouted with laughter in his voice.

“You have no idea. She did this to my nose.” Lucian gestured at his face as she sat up, and a smile spread over her lips. “But I already punished her for that.”

Those words wiped the beginning smile off her face, but the man just glanced down at her. “I’m sure I could do a lot to help her understand the rules here.”

A sick feeling filled her stomach at the hidden threat, the ache between her thighs pulsing in a reminder of just how precarious her position was.

“That won’t be necessary tonight, Ben. I think this little bird has a lot to think about, just put her in with the others – but don’t take the rope off.”

“They’re always feisty when we first bring them in,” Ben said, and then he asked, “Little bird?”

Lucian shrugged, his heather gray eyes boring into her. “I’ll fill you in later. We did get a boar, it’s already being prepped for dinner. Come find me later when your shift is over.”

“Sure.” Ben clasped hands with Lucian, and then her captor turned back down the path and Ben towered over her. “All right, into the stable with you.”

He nudged her with his boot, and she kicked his leg away. In a moment his face changed, and he leaned down to grab her off the ground and toss her over his shoulder as she fought.

“If you want to play it that way, that’s fine. You’re not the first one to show up with an attitude.” His palm landed in a hard swat across her already sore ass, and she yelped as he moved forward, throwing the animal skin aside that served as a door before he unceremoniously dumped her onto the earth inside. Her breath left her in a burst, and he pointed down at her. “Do not try to leave. I’m right outside, and based on what Lucian said, you already know what happens to girls who don’t follow the rules.”

“Go to hell,” Emmie growled, and he rolled his eyes as he straightened.

“You’ll learn.” Ben turned and ducked out the doorway, and she heard him settle on the ground outside.

She was a prisoner.

A prisoner of the raiders.

Her situation settled over her like a dark cloud, and she twisted at the waist to sit up on the hard earth. Light filtered in through the gaps in the structure, but the interior was still dim, and her wrists were still bound, and she was still hopelessly trapped. A frustrated scream escaped her and she kicked at the dirt, digging furrows into the earth with the heels of her shoes, worrying the rope around her wrists with her struggles – but the pain just drove her onward. She let loose a torrent of curses, damning the man outside, Lucian, her situation, the world itself. Eventually her energy left her in a whoosh, and she felt tears burning her eyes, tracking down her cheeks until she rubbed her face against her shoulders and sniffled.

The sound of a throat clearing quietly behind her made her jump, and she twisted to find another woman in the shadows. Emmie turned away from her, furiously rubbing her cheeks and nose against the fabric of her shirt until she felt more composed.

“Are you – um… are you okay?” It was a quiet whisper, and she heard the shuffling of the girl moving towards her.

“Fine,” Emmie muttered.

A figure entered her peripheral vision to her right, but she refused to face the other woman – too aware of the mess she probably was. The girl cleared her throat again. “I’m Alice. Did they get you today?”

All Emmie wanted was to be left alone. She wanted to be back under the peaceful canopy of the trees, scrounging for another half-hearted salad, away from everyone, but if she couldn’t have that, she at least didn’t want to have to entertain someone else.

The silence stretched, and then Alice shifted closer to her. “They found me a little over a week ago, so I understand—”

“You
don’t
understand,” Emmie snapped, and the girl’s stunned expression as she turned towards her would have made her feel guilty if there had been enough room to feel more guilt on top of all the other sins weighing on her.

“Okay, then why don’t you tell me what happened? Why were you exiled? How did they find you?” Alice’s voice was soft, incredibly quiet in the gloom.

“No.”

The girl sighed and crossed her legs. “Well, I was exiled for my debts. I wasn’t able to pay my rent, but I refused to move out and live in the streets. I still owed the woman teaching me to make clothes for my beginning materials, and she refused to take me on as a full apprentice. She just wanted me to work for her, learn from her, without any guarantees. When the guards arrived to drag me out of my room, that was the first I knew that she had reported me for theft of the materials. No one listened to me when I told them how many dresses, pants, and shirts I had crafted in her shop. My own landlord called me a
squatter
, and shunned me. Then the town council exiled me – I didn’t even get to speak at my own trial. They told me to be silent, and then threw me out of the gates.”

Emmie stared at the ground, trying to block out the woman’s sob story, but she just kept talking.

“By the time they found me I was so hungry I didn’t really fight when they tied me up and brought me back here.” Alice scooted a little closer to her, lowering her voice even further, “But the best part is I kept the needles the woman gave me.” The girl twisted, grabbing at the hem of her top. “See?”

The dull metal caught the light, and Emmie recognized the shape of a needle. It was similar to the one she had practiced her needlepoint for hours with, crafting flowers and leaves and phrases. Alice grinned and turned again to embed it in the hem once more. “They took the bag I had with some scraps of fabric, but they never searched my actual clothes.”

“What do you think you’re going to do with a needle?” Emmie turned on the girl and her eyes widened as she hissed, “Do you think that you’ll be able to do
anything
with a tiny thing like that? You’re a fool.”

“I just…” the girl sputtered, dropping her head to allow a dull, brown braid to drop over her shoulder. “I just haven’t had a moment to tell anyone, I thought you might be—”

“What?”

“My friend,” Alice whispered and Emmie tried to pull back from the desperation the girl poured out, but it was difficult. It became impossible when the soft sniffling of the girl crying filled the space.

Dammit
.

“I’m sorry,” Emmie whispered.

“Huh?” She lifted her head and Emmie cringed at repeating herself.

“I said I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just—”

“You’re having a really bad day.” Alice filled in the blank, wiping her cheeks, and Emeline had to agree with her. She was having a terrible day, a fucking horrible, bad day.

“Yes.”

“My mother always used to tell me that bad days exist so that we can recognize the good ones, and there are always good ones.” The girl’s voice sounded so confident that Emmie laughed a little and tried to think of her last
good
day. It was probably the day before she’d left the city, when she’d had a full belly, and had hugged her sister tight knowing it was for the last time – and with that thought, darkness overshadowed the memory.

That wasn’t a good memory, it was guilt personified.

Traitor. Weakling. Coward.

Her own mind was against her, and Emmie couldn’t handle it, suddenly grateful for her empty stomach. “It seems all I’ve had are bad days recently.”

“I understand,” Alice whispered. They sat there in silence for a moment until Emmie felt an itching on her cheek, strands of her hair stuck to the damp skin from the crying. She tried to brush the hair away with her shoulder, and when that didn’t work, she blew at it uselessly. The girl inched closer, shifting onto her knees. “Would you, um, would you like me to pull your hair back? I’ve found it’s not as difficult when it’s out of your face.”

“Thank you, yes,” Emmie mumbled and shifted back to sit on her sore ass. A hiss escaped between her teeth and Alice let out an empathetic sound as she moved behind her.

“He punished you, didn’t he? I couldn’t help but hear…” The girl slid her hands towards the tie buried in the mess of her hair, and Emmie nodded. “Did Lucian himself punish you?”