Thanred watched her, trying to separate the confusing emotions that had twined together inside him.
She finished the meal in almost no time and let the skewer fall onto the forest floor. Her eyelids grew heavy as her body began to digest the food. When she turned to gaze into his eyes, something inside him cracked. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered.
Thanred found himself utterly captivated by her bright blue eyes. He fought the urge to reach out, grab her and cradle her in his arms, whispering that she would never be in danger again, that he would take care of her and make sure she was safe. “You were hungry,” he said instead.
“I was,” she said, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.
“We Dranark do not need to feed as often as you.” The admission, or perhaps the need he felt to make it, surprised him.
Her eyes widened at what he’d said. “That is what you are?” she asked, an urgency to her voice that had been absent until then. “Dranark?”
Thanred nodded.
Royla began to shake her head. Her smile had faded, replaced by worry and... was it fear?
“What is it?” Thanred asked. Something was stabbing at his gut, telling him to reach out to her, to comfort her, to try to soothe whatever was worrying her. But surely that would be weak? A Dranark warrior comforting a human female, a female there only for the purpose of relieving the pressure in his loins?
A tear pooled at the corner of her eye, then rolled down her cheek.
Thanred’s instincts screamed at him to comfort her. His mind, his upbringing, his veryselfresisted. “What is it?” he demanded.
Her eyes glazed, focusing on some spot far away. She sniffled, then wiped her nose with the back of her finger. “I’m sorry, Master,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
This, finally, did him in. Unable to resist, he stretched out his arm and put his palm on her shoulder. “Youdon’t...” He couldn’t bring himself to utter the words.
You have nothing to fear from me.
She winced at his touch, almost made to retreat, but caught herself. Instead, she sat higher and prouder. “I am Royla,” she said, more tears running down her cheeks. “Royla, eighteen summers long and from the fifth palisade. When Barnisha came to me, told me to go into the forest to collect berries for the Sowing Song...” Her voice cracked. The muscles in her throat tightened. She took a deep breath, trying to sweep the emotion aside. “When Barnisha told me to go to the forest, she wasn’t asking for my help. She was sending me to be... the offering.” She locked eyes with him.
Thanred thought that seeing her come to the realization might crush him. She was so soft and innocent and sweet and... so much more than he’d thought humans could be. Once again, the urge to cradle her, shelter her from the harsh reality she’d stumbled onto, welled from within. A muscle in his face twitched. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I believe that is what she meant to do.”
He didn’t know who Barnisha was, or what the customs of the palisade were. But he knew that this thing, this... girl, had pieced it all together.
She had been turned out into the wild, betrayed by her tribe in the same way his tribe had betrayed him.
When her shoulders shook, and her chin fell to her chest, he didn’t know what to do. Dranark women didn’t display their feelings in front of the males. Seeing her sorrow tore his insides. Just when he thought it might break him, all that was roiling within, he leaned closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her close.
Her body was warm. Her tears fell hot on his chest.
Thanred took a deep breath to try to clear the tightness in his own throat to no avail. It wasn’t until her tears had stopped, until she’d dried them with her finger and looked up to gaze into his eyes that he got some relief from the tension.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
He wanted to tell her his name. Thanred. He was still her master and always would be, but he craved the closeness hearing her speak his given name would bring. He wanted to tell her they were kin, in experience if not in blood.
But Dranark pride kept his mouth shut. So instead, he held her until the sun crested high overhead and began its descent to the west. Then he rose above her and offered her a hand. “We should keep moving,” he said.
She took his hand and let him help her up. “Why, Master?” she asked.
“We must go deeper into the forest. We’ll be safer there.”
Her brow furrowed. “Don’t you... don’t you have a tribe?” she asked. “Aren’t we going there?”
Thanred clenched his jaw at the question. “No.” It was the only answer he could bring himself to give.
Royla still seemed puzzled but didn’t pry further. She beat out the last embers of the fire with a stick, then turned, her head held high and offered her hands, wrists pressed together. “So you may bind me again,” she explained.
It made his head spin. How he wanted to tie her wrists to ankles and force his cock into her again. But they needed to move. He shook his head. “You will not run,” he said simply.
