them to.
I blinked, confused. Where was I?
“Finally, ye be wakin’.”
The nightmare that had unbelievably been real came rushing back at the sound of the mountain man’s voice. I closed my eyes as I was roughly turned around; I tasted soil on my lips.
“Open yer eyes!” he bellowed in my face, the putrid breath bringing back memories of the day before.
Not wanting to, but somehow needing to, I did as he demanded, opening my eyes to see his ugly face inches above mine, his large hands gripping my upper arms.
His eyes blazed with rage. “Ye goin’ to be gettin’ it bad, wife, for runnin’ off.”
He dragged me into his arms. I struggled. I was in so much pain already, his pinches and slaps didn’t stop me from giving him hell as he strode in long lurches back to his shack.
The magic screamed at me again as he pulled me from its path.
When the shack appeared, I stopped struggling, slumping in his arms. We had walked perhaps thirty minutes using his long strides.
It had taken me hours to get thirty minutes away from this beast.
I gave a roar of rage and clobbered my bound hands against his head in impotent wrath. He snarled at me, giving me a wounded look as if he were the victim, not I. The fact that this man was deranged made my fear increase. There would be no reasoning with someone like him.
I was thrown down on the pallet as he slammed the shack door shut. The stench of dead meat filled the small room, and I gagged at the sight of an animal in the corner. But the carcass was the least of my worries.
My heart froze as the mountain man began undressing. I struggled away from him, my back pressed against the wall of the shack, frantically searching for a weapon as he loomed over me, naked.
Fuck the chafing! I pulled my wrists back and forth, desperate to be free. I could hear him laughing as he lowered himself to the ground, but still I rubbed my wrists together, growling and crying at the agony as I ripped my flesh raw. Saliva and tears dripped off my chin as I refused to look at the man.
I slammed back against the wall, wide-eyed as he crawled over me, straddling me. I looked into his face with so much hatred, I hoped it incinerated him. His stench overwhelmed me as it had the last time, and my stomach lurched in response. His stale sweat and bad breath would have been enough to make me sick, but the odor of blood and old meat lingered on him too.
He smelled like death.
I closed my eyes and pushed away from him as his hands pawed at me, the muscles in my body twanging and twitching like the taut strings of a lute.
“Ye better start playin’, wife, or I’m goin’ to get mad.”
Despite his threat, I couldn’t stop flinching from his touch; I couldn’t have even if my mind had told me it was the safest thing to do. Instead I incurred his anger over and over again, pushing and struggling and jerking to get him off me. One of his huge hands slid down over my face, and he pushed me, slamming my head off the wall. The minutes after that were distant and unclear. My head lolled on my shoulders, and I could only see and hear images. I swore I heard Wolfe’s voice, saw Haydyn’s face.
But they weren’t here.
As the present came back to me, my situation had worsened. I was flat on my back on the pallet, the mountain man still straddling me. My shirt had been ripped fully open by the knife in his hands. I was covered in little shallow cuts.
I let out a garbled cry and swung at his head with my hands, a weak hit, but enough to give me a moment to summon my energy. I bucked under him, trying to throw him off. I swung at him again, causing him to jerk away, providing me the momentum I needed to shake him off. I screamed like a banshee the entire time, using it to call up furious adrenaline that might infuse me with temporary strength.
The mountain man roared and clambered over me, the knifeless fist swooping down and connecting with my face. Blood gushed out of my nose as my eyes watered. He used my disorientation to unbutton my trousers.
“No, no,” I mumbled, tasting the bitter copper of my blood. I