He lurched forward, her grim resignation so sickening he wanted to wrap his arms around her and shake some sense into her at the same time. But both would have to wait. First, he had to handle his crewmates. “No one will harm a hair on your head, wild thing. I swear it. I’m going to protect you.”
Her wide blinking gaze made no secret of her doubt.
She didn’t believe him. Why would she? Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a declaration. The same with his treatment thus far. But he’d bring her around.
Only problem: he was out of practice when it came to actual caretaking. After his sister, he’d focused on getting good at the breaking, not so much putting things back together. For Nayla, though, he’d figure it the fuck out.
He tipped her chin so that their eyes locked. “I’ve been trained my whole life to see a threat and take it down. First with my father, then as a soldier in the Resistance, then as a prisoner in the mines. In war, everything becomes real simple: fight or die. The same goes for those around you: ally or enemy. But I see now that you’re not my enemy and I know there doesn’t have to be war between us.”
She shook her head. “I wish true.”
“Grif?” Another slam at the rock’s outside had him moving faster.
His eyes locked with wary sapphire ones. “Gotta deal with this.”
He didn’t like the wrecked, knowing look in her stare.
But his crew needed answers—and those missing females needed to come home.
Scooping her into his arms bridal style, he hustled out of the main cavern, unable to miss the shiver that ran through her as his forearm brushed her heated ass, or the way her tits hardened at the rush of air.
She stiffened, her tiny palms pressing into his chest.
With a growl, he pressed her fully against him, refusing her rejection. She was so fucking gorgeous, her hair wild and silky, her skin flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded. The way she surrendered so damn sweet. Those sexy lines across the bridge of her nose and kothi kitten-like pointed ears—he wanted to trace them with his finger and his tongue…
“Grif!” Another shout.
“Coming!” They reached his destination. He set her down on her feet.
The second cavern, a small storage space packed with supplies, wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. There were no actual weapons in the space, but plenty she could use in a pinch. He’d have to be very careful when he returned. At least he could be certain of one thing. Escape was next to impossible. The cave itself offered only one exit and she’d have to go by him and his teammates to use it.
He seized her wrists. He brushed his thumb over a raised welt as if he could erase it with his touch. No way could he add to that by tying her up again. “I’ll leave you unrestrained, but you can’t come out. No matter what.”
“Others from camp?” Her fear was palpable.
“No, wild thing. My men and I buried most of those scumbags under a ton of rock. They’re rotting in the anonymous graveyard they deserve.”
“Wh-who then?”
“Friends.”
“Friends? Then why you look angry?”
“Grif!” Another shout of his name. This one even louder. They were moving the rock aside themselves.
He forced his expression to smooth even as the monster in him roared. He didn’t want them anywhere fucking near her. Not until he’d figured out his next step and how to keep Nayla from getting even more caught in the middle.
“I’m not angry at you. Only the situation.” He gripped her chin. “Stay here and behave.”
Defiance flared in her gaze, those tipped ears of hers going rigid.
His cock throbbed.
But he was out of time.
He turned to go. Fuck. He was so used to dealing with hardened bastards—male and female—who were as empty, dark, and brutal on the inside as he. He hadn’t expected a fragile, delicate pixie with wide, expressive eyes whose pain and stubbornness were greater than his own.
He knew exactly how hard it was not to crumble under that kind of relentless brutality.
“Boy, you’ll do what I say when I say it.” Fermented ale on his breath. A dark shadow above, three times taller than his eleven-year-old self. The vicious sucker punch that knocked his chin sideways and sent him slamming into the already well-dented wall. The shell that was his sister just staring, doing nothing, her expression still slack, her gaze empty. “When I tell you