Spoils of war

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Spoils of War ISBN # 1-4199-0383-7 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Spoils of War Copyright© 2005 Vonna Harper Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: December 2005

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

SPOILS OF WAR Vonna Harper

Vonna Harper

Chapter One Hot wind tore at Durc’s nearly naked body, but the Kebo war-liege gritted his teeth against the endless dry heat. He crouched behind a gray boulder, eyes intent on the meadow below. When he’d first seen the small, grassy area three seasons ago, it had been rich with the wildlife and vegetation that took nourishment from the deep, narrow creek running through it, but there’d been little rain since then. Now lifeless, silvered grasses sagged under the wind, and nothing remained of the creek except for a few stagnant ponds. Although he’d known what he’d find, Durc hated seeing yet more relentless proof of what the protracted drought had done to the land. As a Kebo warrior and hunter, it was his responsibility and honor to protect and feed his clan, but his keen eyes told him there was no game here. Only a handful of water bugs clung to life in the ponds. How much further would he have to lead his fellow hunters before he’d find what they needed to fill his people’s bellies? And if his desperate search failed— Weary of the relentless questions, he wiped sweat from his sun-bronzed chest. As he did, his fingers lingered on the eagle feather necklace he’d worn since his manhood ceremony. As tradition dictated, his father had given him the first feather, but the two hadn’t embraced. There’d been no conversation between father and son about what it meant to be a Kebo man. Instead, conditioned by a childhood filled with his father’s unpredictable fury, he’d taken his place next to the others who’d just completed the journey from boy to manhood. Surrounded by other strong young men, he’d felt whole, complete, filled with purpose and acceptance. To his surprise, his father had stayed for the rest of the ceremony that included prayers, fasting, and fucking over two days and nights, but although the three others had given thanks to their fathers for turning them into men, he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Angry because long after he’d assumed the rights and responsibilities of a man, he still felt weighed down by memories of his anger-driven father, Durc briefly closed his eyes. Then he again concentrated on his setting. His memory of the meadow had been good and clean, and he hated seeing this change. This slow death. What had happened to the deer, rabbits, and other creatures who had thrived here? Had instinct taken them all elsewhere, or would he find carcasses and bones along the creek and in the famished grass? It didn’t matter. He had to find living deer and rabbits. Otherwise, his people would starve.

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He was about to start down the long, gentle slope for a closer look when he noted movement high overhead. Shielding his eyes, he stared into the tired blue-gray sky. The sun attacked his forehead and nose, forcing him to squint. Despite his limited vision, however, he soon spotted an eagle. The magnificent bird floated in lazy, endless circles as if cradled by the wind, and he envied his spirit creature’s freedom. Heat and drought seemed not to touch eagles. While those like him who were bound to the earth, struggled to survive, the predator’s great sweeping wings easily took it from parched land to rich, distant places. Lands he could only imagine. Why then was this eagle here? Hoping the Kebo gods had sent not just a mortal bird but Eagle as a message and direction, he continued his scrutiny, but the creature seemed oblivious to his presence. Instead, it appeared to be focusing on something down by the creek. Wondering if it had spotted a fresh carcass or, even better, a dying animal, Durc moved closer. In the way of a seasoned Kebo fighter, he remained in the shadows of drooping trees. His deeply calloused feet made no sound on the hard-packed earth, but he heard the rhythm of movement and purpose in his mind. Except for his cougar-hide loincloth and the bow and arrows strapped to his back, he wore nothing. The eagle drifted closer, but although Durc ached to take personal spiritual meaning from its behavior, he knew better. Still, he felt as one with the great predator. According to the legends passed through countless generations of Kebo, Eagle had been the first life form the great Sun God had created once He’d fashioned the earth. Sun God had begun with Eagle because He wanted something living that could exist endlessly above the earth and have eyesight keen enough to see everything. Eagle lived on flesh so He could take the other creatures’ muscle and skin and spirits into His body and thus continue the cycle of life. And because His keen eyes saw things that only the gods did, warriors blessed with eagles as their spirit helpers became great leaders. Durc wanted to believe he was such a war-liege. If his people were to survive, he needed to. He sucked in a deep breath of air nearly hot enough to burn his lungs. Despite the inescapable proof of nature’s assault on his world, he felt strengthened because he now shared the very air with one of Sun God’s creations. And as he slipped further down the hill, he spotted other movement. Patient in the way of a man who has learned that caution means continued life, he waited until he was nearly at the bottom before stepping behind a dying tree and peering around it. Dry wind-dancing grasses clung to the banks of what had once been a rich, cool creek. Rocks and a few hearty bushes shared the space with the grass. As did a woman. Disbelief rolled through Durc, but he cast his reaction aside. It didn’t matter that logic and experience told him no lone woman would be out here. She was reality. Her 5

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long black hair floated over her shoulders, loose except for two thin braids along her temples held in place with red rope. The style identified her as a Bakista, the clan that had been living in the area the last time he’d been here. He would have gone on the alert if the Bakista were aggressive, but they were craftsmen and traders who’d become wealthy because they were skilled in creating highly valued canoes, drums, flutes, cooking and carrying baskets, and jewelry. Their ability to decorate well-tanned hides with exquisite paintings of both spirit and real creatures was legendary. Although he might never understand how a man could have the patience to spend his life drawing elaborate and multicolored symbols on deer or elk skin to stretch over wood and bone frames for drums, the rich resonant sounds quieted him. Bakista men were the artists while their women raised children, prepared food, built their mud and brush houses, and sometimes assisted their craftsmen husbands and fathers. A Bakista man’s considerable reputation came from what his hands were capable of. In contrast, the tribe’s females lived in the shadows. With a mental shake of his head, Durc relegated what he knew of the Bakista to the back of his mind and concentrated on the woman. She knelt with her back to him, which made it impossible for him to see all of her. The red rope in her hair proclaimed her as unmarried but spoken for. From the look of her slender neck and straight shoulders, he took her to be young. His cock tightened, and he massaged himself through the soft hide loincloth. He’d fucked one of the Kebo slave-whores last night, but the mating had been quick and obviously not long-lasting. Either that or his manhood knew something about the Bakista maiden his mind didn’t. He could take her, capture her. Compel her to service him. Almost as soon as he contemplated grabbing the foolish loner, he dismissed the impulse. With all of his energy needed to provide for his people, he couldn’t devote time to a prisoner, particularly a female without weapons he could use, or a fresh kill he could take back to his clan. She’d be just one more mouth to feed. He’d nearly convinced himself to leave her to her unimportant activity when he noted that Eagle was coming closer. His circles had tightened and now appeared more focused. Eagle was spiraling directly over the woman. If she’d been dead or badly wounded, there’d be more than one eagle as well as vultures and crows. This made no sense. Or did it? The woman, too, must have noticed the eagle because she slowly, yet gracefully got to her feet. Instead of trying to hide from deadly talons and beak, she stretched her arms toward the great bird. She wore a simple sleeveless deerskin dress that slithered over her lean figure. With her body reaching skyward, much of her thighs were now revealed. Like the rest of her, her legs were long and spare with none of the heavy muscles he’d come to associate with women who spent their lives laboring.

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What he could see of her breasts looked full, heavy for the rest of her, ripe and waiting for a man to fondle. Her hips called to him in the same way, ripe and flaring, made for giving birth and housing a man’s cock. If she was his, he could train her breasts, hips, thighs, and buttocks to worship him. Thoughts of the direction he could take the training brought his cock fully to life. It pulsed, insisted. This time he didn’t try to remind himself that her presence would only rob the Kebo of much-needed food. If he’d laid claim to her, he’d keep her chores light so her body didn’t bow under work’s weight. He’d order her to regularly clean herself and take care not to injure herself. He’d insist she remain at his side whenever he was in the hunting camp or Kebo village, ready to service him. And when he had to leave to hunt or fight, he wouldn’t worry that she’d try to run away because he’d have molded her into a compliant slavewhore, his alone. As for what might happen to her once he’d grown weary of her— what did it matter as long as he’d sold her for what she was worth? Distracted by possibilities for her use, he was slow to grasp the weight of what was taking place between the woman and the eagle, but finally the breeze brought whispers of her voice to him. She was speaking to the bird, chanting or praying. Suddenly angry, he clenched his fists. Eagle was his spirit helper. Eagle and other spirit creatures—if this bird was indeed one—had been created by the gods in part so they could give strength to generations of Kebo men. Men. Women had no need for spirit protection and guidance because that was a man’s role. And as such, a woman had no right to distract Eagle from its Sun God-given responsibilities. And yet—and yet Eagle continued to float closer to the handsome young female. He was now near enough that Durc could see the harsh yellow eyes and open beak. Killing talons were tucked close to the dark body, the regal white head low so it looked as if Eagle was making eye contact with the woman. Woman. Not a slave-whore. Eagle shifted its attention to Durc, and he felt blessed. Then He dismissed him and returned to the unworthy creature. She now stood on her toes, head back, arms stretching toward the predator, fingers open. She continued chanting, and he heard awe in her voice. With a movement so graceful it stole his breath, Eagle dipped a massive black wing toward her. He couldn’t be sure but thought the tips of His feathers brushed the top of her head. Gasping, she fell to her knees and curled in on herself either in prayer or because she was trying to protect herself. A long, low cry erupted from Eagle. The sound seemed to float over both the woman and himself. Shared its harsh power. Then with another haunting cry, Eagle soared upward. As He did, a feather drifted to the ground next to her. Shaken in a way he hadn’t believed possible, Durc dropped to his own knees, clasped his necklace and closed his eyes. A sign, Eagle spirit. A sign. But of what?

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Chapter Two Tasia had just brought a little of the precious water remaining in the once-deep lake to her father’s dog, when she heard a man shout. Turning her back on the large bitch and her five newborn puppies, she squinted and stared in the direction the sound had come from. Because she was in the middle of the Bakista village and surrounded by dwellings and members of her clan, she was unable to see much. Still, the shout alarmed her. “Are the men returning?” her mother asked as she came out of the small, wellconstructed, if sun-baked, family home. “I pray they have been successful.” Tasia, too, prayed that the small hunting party had found the deer they’d gone looking for early this morning. In times of plenty, the Bakista didn’t have to hunt because other clans and tribes were happy to trade their kills for highly valued Bakista creations, but the long, harsh drought had changed many things. Until it rained, no one had food for more than themselves, and sometimes not even that. Tasia looked in the direction of her betrothed’s house but didn’t see anyone about. Sook hadn’t gone off with the hunters because he’d been determined to stretch hide over a large canoe frame before the leather stiffened. Besides, the man she would marry at the full moon was old enough that his legs could no longer carry him long distances. She shuddered, then forced out thoughts of again having to spread her legs for Sook. He’d chosen her as his third wife. She’d do what was required of her. Another shout caused her and her mother to exchange a worried look. Instead of joy, this second cry had been tight with alarm. Although her mother ordered her to stay where she was, Tasia joined the other women and children hurrying forward. As she ran, she closed a hand over the eagle feather she’d turned into a necklace with the use of a thin leather cord three suns ago. She’d told no one how she’d gotten it and wasn’t sure whether she ever would. What had slowly been coming to life between her and the great bird went beyond her ability or willingness to explain. She’d just rounded the last dwelling and was looking in the direction the five men had gone this morning when she spotted them running toward the village. Three carried only their hunting weapons, but two had parts of deer carcass slung over their backs. Her initial joy at seeing that their hunt had been successful died when she heard what they were yelling. “Kebo come!” the man in the lead shouted. “Kebo following us!” A heavily armed group of Kebo hunters had been spotted on Bakista land a few suns ago, but when they hadn’t come to the village, everyone had relaxed. People told each other that the warlike Kebo knew the Bakista had nothing they needed and would continue on. 8

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But that had been before the Bakista had killed at least one deer. Before this terrible drought, the Kebo had been the land’s greatest warriors and fighters. Famine had turned them into hyenas. Fear clamped around Tasia’s chest. As a woman, she knew to remain at a distance from what took place between men, but this was different. Looking around, she realized her mother had caught up with her. “I hate them!” Opa hissed. “I hate all those who believe they can rule with force.” Tasia agreed. But she didn’t want to waste time and energy debating why the Kebo were so aggressive. She’d never understand a love of war and fighting, of killing or, if it was so ordained, dying. Still, even as she watched the Bakista men drop the fresh meat and turn to face their foe, she studied the proudly approaching enemy warriors. Bakista men were gentle with slender arms and legs, and magic in their long, strong fingers. In contrast, the nearly naked Kebo reminded her of fierce cougars. Today their weapons put her clan’s to shame because in addition to bows and arrows, they carried spears. Every Kebo man had a knife at his waist, maybe knives created by her clan. Their predator-pelt loincloths had an arrogance about them. Instead of being designed for modesty, the exquisitely decorated garments proudly screamed that the wearers were men. Stags. There were only as many Kebo warriors as she had fingers on both hands, but they strode into the neat, compact village as if their numbers were many times more, and they had nothing to fear. As if they had conquered. It wasn’t until the one she took to be their leader began speaking that she understood why they were so confident. Because they spoke in the common trade language, she easily understood what he was saying. “You should not have tried to run,” the too tall, too strong-looking man with the cougar-hide loincloth declared. “Do you think you can escape true warriors?” His harsh gaze took in everyone. He even seemed to know where small children were hiding. “Look among you, foolish Bakista. Who is not with you?” Because she hadn’t paid close attention to who had been in the hunting party, Tasia was slow to grasp the man’s meaning. And perhaps she had been distracted by his full, rich, eagle feather necklace. How worthless hers looked in comparison. Did the man walk with Eagle, maybe fly with Sun God’s creation? “What have you done with our chief?” someone demanded. “Where is Yakecen?” The same question was soon on everyone’s lips. Respected for his calm and evenhanded leadership, Yakecen had guided the Bakista for as long as she could remember. True, one arm had withered after he’d tumbled down a cliff as a young man, but he was gifted in his ability to look into someone’s eyes and see the message in his or her heart. “You are a searcher,” he’d told her during her womanhood ceremony when her mother had painted her face and arms white and cut holes in her dress so everyone could see that she had full breasts. “Unique among women, you will always be restless

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and want more than the others do. When you look around you, you see not just this valley but the promise and challenge of what lies beyond, do you not?” She’d nodded. “I do not wish this for you because you will never be content. But you cannot change your nature. Listen to the song in your soul and open yourself to your world and the world beyond what your eyes see today. If the gods so will it, you will journey. Learn. Grow.” She hadn’t known what he meant and was still trying to grasp the full meaning of his wisdom, but she’d taken his words to heart and listened to the messages in her soul, and in the souls of nature’s creatures. The other day, Eagle had seen into her heart. Concern for Yakecen pulled her out of herself. She stood in a group consisting of her mother, aunts, sisters, and the two who would soon become her fellow wives. Even with their comforting presence, she felt alone and vulnerable. It was the Kebos’ fault! Looking strong and sure of himself, the man she took to be their war-liege continued speaking. He kept the telling short and spare but made it clear that when he realized Yakecen was among the Bakista hunters, he’d ordered his warriors to capture the clan’s leader. “Yakecen is safe.” He brushed his long black hair away from his face. “The Kebo cut off a snake’s head to render the snake harmless, but the Bakista are not snakes. You have what we want.” He indicated the deer carcass. “Once we have that, and the rest of your food, we will release Yakecen and leave. But if the Bakista try to hold back anything, your chief will pay with his life.” Her mother gripped her hand, clenching it so tightly that Tasia winced. Perhaps because they had scant control over their lives, it took little to frighten a Bakista woman. Yet, despite her own fear, the emotion warred with anger. The Kebo had no right! After a short conference among themselves, the Bakista reluctantly carried the deer carcass over to the Kebo war-liege and deposited it at his feet. Tasia expected a triumphant smile from him, but he acknowledged it with a short nod. Was it possible he cared what the venison’s loss meant to her people? He said something to his fellow warriors in their language, then again turned his attention to the assembled Bakista, which now consisted of every man, woman, and child capable of walking. “Kebo warriors will walk through your village and into your houses. They will search each pot and storage basket. If anyone lifts a hand against them, that person will be killed. And if anyone attempts to hide food from us, more blood will be spilled.” I hate you, hate you. Perhaps her mother could hear her thoughts because Opa continued to firmly grip her hand. And as the Kebo spread out to begin their search, Opa leaned close. “I know what you are thinking, my daughter. That the Kebo are wild animals, wolves who hunt for the love of hunting. You think that because you are a woman, you can tell them this and they will not kill you, but I fear for your life.”

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Gripping her eagle feather in her free hand, Tasia struggled for calm. Had she always thought and felt different from the other Bakista women? As a child, she hadn’t understood why she’d rather go off by herself so she could study animals and birds, even plants, instead of learning how to be a woman at her mother’s side. She’d dutifully done what she had to when it came to food and clothing preparation and told herself she would be content once she had children. But the thought of being married to Sook kept her awake too many nights. Would he, or any man, understand why the earth beneath her feet wasn’t enough? Why she wanted to be acknowledged for more than her loins and hands? Would she? The gathered women were whispering among themselves about whether anything would remain of their limited food supply, when the Kebo warriors started to return. They carried baskets filled with seeds and nuts, a blanket some small but precious berries had been spread on to dry, a pot with a thin stew made from rabbit and a few camas roots. Their war-liege studied the meager collection. “This cannot be all! This is not enough to feed the village for a single night.” Hope flared. Tasia clenched her jaw. Was it possible the Kebo didn’t know that her people stored roots and dried meat in rock-lined pits behind each house? If they didn’t, then maybe the Kebo would free Yakecen and leave without condemning the Bakista to starvation. Eagle spirit, please hear my prayer. Protect us. Save us. Perhaps, she told herself, Eagle had heeded her desperate plea because not a single pit was uncovered. But before she dared give thanks, she learned the full extent of Kebo cruelty. At the war-liege’s command, a Kebo warrior ran off in the direction they’d come from. When he returned, another Kebo was with him—as was Yakecen who they’d restrained by knotting a rope around his neck. Yakecen looked old and frail. Even his healthy arm seemed diminished. “His life means nothing to you?” the black-haired war-liege taunted, and jerked down on the rope, forcing Yakecen to his knees. “Your bellies come before your chief?” “No, please!” Yakecen’s youngest wife and two small children begged. “Do not kill him.” “We are not belly-dragging curs!” the war-liege retorted. His breathing deepened, causing his necklace to rise and fall. He was too big, too strong! Worthy of his cougarhide loincloth. He jabbed a finger at the food supply. “There is more than this. Decide. Either bring the rest to us or I will slit this old man’s throat.” I hate you! Loathe you. To her shock, no less than Sook stepped forward. Her intended didn’t look in her direction or acknowledge his wives. “I speak for not just myself but other Bakista elders,” he told the Kebo. Although Sook was nearly a head shorter than the war-liege, and the flesh over his chest and belly sagged, he didn’t shrink from the enemy. “We 11

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men have spoken among ourselves and all agree. Remaining silent will only cause blood to be shed. There is more food, food we will reveal, if the Kebo promise to leave.” Shaking his head, the war-liege held up his spear. His stance reminded her of a great stag with magnificent antlers staring down a smaller buck while several doe watched. “You do not understand. The Bakista have been beaten. You are at our mercy. We will do what we want.” “Kill us then. But if you do, your bellies will remain empty.” A moment ago Tasia had been embarrassed because Sook had been willing to bargain and plea. Now her respect for his cunning prompted her to nod approval. The Kebo leader must have felt the same way because he jerked his head. “The Bakista know how to fight, after all,” he said. “But you resist with your minds, not weapons.” He indicated three of his warriors. “Go with this old man and make sure he shows you everything.” “Not until Yakecen is released,” Sook countered. The war-liege stalked over to Sook. He stood over him, chest expanded and shoulders back. “You challenge me, old man?” “This is the only challenge I have. My chief’s life for food.” Although she expected the Kebo to run his spear through Sook, he grunted approval. “And when you are done?” Sook asked. “The Kebo will leave?” The war-liege didn’t answer.

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Chapter Three Tasia’s respect for the man she was going to marry increased even more when she realized that although he’d revealed where his family and two others stored food, he hadn’t said anything about the rest of the village’s stock. Yakecen, surrounded by the rest of the clan elders, stood in the middle of a close, silent group while the Kebo dug through what they’d retrieved. Although she knew they believed they were helpless, she hated the way the men of her clan stood looking like whipped dogs. The Kebo’s reputation as fighters had been enough to break down any resistance? “If I was a man,” she whispered to her mother, “I would die defending what is mine.” “You would die for nothing. Next to the Kebo, our strength is newborn-weak.” “Because we have never tested our strength. Never stood up to—” “Silence, daughter! You are female. Never forget that.” Arguing with her mother wouldn’t change today. At least the time it had taken the enemy to empty the three pits had given her the opportunity to study the Kebo in greater detail, particularly their sharp-eyed powerful leader. Her mother had always likened the aggressive clan to wolves, but although their leader carried himself with a wolf’s strength and energy, there was also something of a stag in rut about him. He was proud of his body and confident in a way she’d never seen or imagined in a man. A way no doe—or woman—could ignore. Doubtlessly he carried that pride and confidence into war and would face danger, even death, the same way. She couldn’t imagine what had made him what he was, couldn’t begin to guess what, if anything, might frighten him. What must it be like to roam wherever he wanted, do what he wanted, take what he claimed? To walk and sleep alone in the wilderness while armed with only a few weapons, believing without doubt that his eagle spirit alone dictated the time and manner of his death? To command a woman to spread her legs and offer her cunt to him and never question her obedience. To rule everything about her. For a heartbeat she envied him. Wanted to feel his touch. Longed for his strength and courage. “Done,” he said after he’d directed two of his warriors to gather the collected food into easy-to-carry bundles. He said something in Kebo that caused the others to laugh, then spun toward Yakecen and Sook. “You believe I am a foolish rabbit who runs unseeing into a trap.” 13

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“No trap, no trap,” Sook insisted. “No? Do you really think I believe you have shown us everything?” Sook backstepped. “I could force the truth out of you.” The Kebo leader aimed his spear at Yakecen’s chest. In her mind, she saw blood gush from a gaping hole in Yakecen’s neck. “But I understand your silence.” The warrior pointed at a knot of children. “You do what you must to keep them from starving. I respect your decision. But we will leave you with proof of our power. Power you will never challenge.” Again he said something to his warriors. They began walking among the Bakista. “A Bakista in exchange for the food we leave behind.” Several women sobbed and clutched their children to them. Men looked from one to another obviously trying to guess who would be sacrificed and hoping it wouldn’t be them. “A single life for the lives of all others. Who will it be? Who offers himself as sacrifice?” No one stepped forward. The war-liege’s dark eyes swept over the assembled villagers like a wolf selecting its next kill. His gaze briefly rested on one woman at a time starting with their faces but quickly moving down. Tasia struggled to convince herself that he hadn’t lingered on her. “Who offers herself?” Not a single woman spoke. “So be it.” The war-liege spoke to his warriors. As one, they smiled and muttered agreement. As one, each warrior approached the closest Bakista female. Tasia couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge what the horrid Kebo were doing until one of them grabbed her by the shoulders, twisted an arm behind her, and forced her to join the other young women being rounded up. “Look at what we have done,” the war-liege announced. “We have no use for a man. Let him stay here and provide for his family instead of fighting his captivity. Because Bakista who have children pierce their ears, we know which women not to touch. The Kebo are not heartless animals. We do not separate mothers from their babies. But other females, young females, are of use to us.” “No!” Yakecen exclaimed. He tried to reach her and the others, but a large-bellied Kebo easily stopped him. “You cannot take them!” “Not all. That many would slow us down, and we do not want to have to feed them. But one of my choosing will be punishment for your silence.” Tasia’s heart hammered. She ached to run, but even if she could outrace the Kebo, she’d only condemn another woman to the fate she’d escaped. Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. The others who’d been rounded up trembled, and some cried—something she refused to do. She hated feeling like a rabbit run down by a pack of wolves, but 14

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wasn’t that what they’d become? How different would it have been if the Bakista were fighters? At the Kebo warriors’ prodding, she and the eight others who’d been singled out arranged themselves in a cowering line. Only when she noted that her companions were looking at the ground did she force herself to straighten and return the war-liege’s stare. Even if it angered him, she refused to appear beaten. He took his time, striding from one young woman to another, gripping her chin and lifting so he could study her features, fondling her breasts beneath her dress, stroking hair, sliding a hand between her legs. Tall, thin Adama gasped and tried to free herself. He yanked on her hair and forced her to her knees. “No disobedience! It is not allowed!” Die, die! When he came to her, he barely glanced at her before going on. However, something in the quick flash of his eye chilled her. Only after completing his study did he return to her. Instead of repeating what he’d done to her “sisters”, he took hold of her eagle feather necklace. His other hand covered his necklace in wordless acknowledgement of what they shared. “I saw,” he said. She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. “When Eagle came to you I was watching.” Too shocked to do anything else, she returned his intense gaze. “Was it the first time? Or has Eagle come to you before?” “Not—not the first time. But never that close.” “Why you?” “I—I do not know.” “I do not believe you. Something about you—” He touched her cheek, the contact almost gentle. She forced herself not to flinch. “Are you a witch?” If she said yes, would he consider her dangerous and reject her? But if she lied, she’d be condemning another woman. “No.” “We will see.” He moved so fast that he’d captured her wrists and spun her around so her back was against his sun-heated chest before she half comprehended what he had in mind. He transferred his hold so his forearm was tight against her throat. His other hand gripped a breast. His fingers encompassed her soft flesh, compressing and molding her breast to fit his palm’s contours. Despite the soft deer hide between her skin and his, he’d trapped what he had no right to. Claimed. Owned. This is mine, he said without words. Whatever I want from you I will take. Even with shock gripping her, his size and strength registered. No matter how fiercely she might struggle, she couldn’t free herself. He surely knew but that didn’t

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stop him from shoving her at another Kebo who held her while he tied her wrists behind her. He took his time with the task, perhaps relishing her surrender and his domination. Once he’d secured one wrist over the other, he stroked her forearms and cupped her elbows. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself not to try to run. Mine. I have made you mine. Until I wish it, you will not be able to use your arms. Do not do this to me! Please. Do not rob me of my body. As if reading her mind, he ran his rough fingertips up her arms and settled them over her shoulders. Whose body? He answered his silent question by running another leather cord around her neck as someone, maybe he, had done to Yakecen earlier. Her breathing quickened. She couldn’t control its pace. Her throat, belly, breasts felt hot. In her mind she saw herself kneeling before him. Naked. Waiting. Alive. “I have chosen,” he announced unnecessarily. Spinning her around, he presented her to her people—a sacrifice. “If the Bakista are so foolish that they believe they can free her, hers will be the first death.”

***** Flanked by the rest of the Kebo warriors, Durc strode away from the Bakista village. His now pale-cheeked, youthful hostage kept pace behind him because the rope around her neck gave her no choice. She’d begun today as she had every other day of her life, free, but by the time it ended, she would begin to understand how much had changed. How much she’d relinquished to him. His ownership. He deliberately didn’t look at her as he went through his options and responsibilities. He had to get the food back to his people as quickly as possible, but only two warriors were needed for that task. He was torn between returning home with his captive and continuing to explore this area. Surrounded by his clan, he could devote himself to her, lose himself in her sweet, hot opening. Her breasts, belly, hips. But according to some travelers who’d shared laughter and slave-whores with the Kebo last winter, if he walked toward the setting sun, he’d soon leave this valley behind and start climbing into seldom-explored mountains. Not only might there be game in the steep, high slopes, but there was a greater chance of coming across a deep-running stream—a place for his people to wait out the drought. He was weary of limiting himself and the others to just the water they needed for drinking. The thought of plunging into a creek and rubbing dirt and sweat off himself was appealing. But even more than the possibility of limitless water called to him. Climbing a mountain would bring him closer to Sun God—and maybe to Eagle. 16

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Him and his prisoner.

***** His fellow warriors seldom spoke as they returned to where they’d camped the night before. By then the sun was setting. Durc wondered if his hostage had ever traveled this far. He understood that Bakista women spent most of their lives in the village, but she’d been out alone the first time he’d seen her. Slave-whores hurried toward him and his fellow warriors. He looked behind him. His captive held her head high. Although he read lingering shock, fear, and grief in her eyes, she glared back at him. Bakista women, like the rest of the clan, weren’t known for their courage, but something made her different. Was Eagle responsible? When he’d identified her because of her eagle feather, he’d cared only about forcing her to tell him how and why Eagle had approached her so he could use the connection between female and spirit to his advantage, to prove himself to Eagle. Now another thought struck him. If she carried Eagle in her soul, was he in danger? No! Eagle was his spirit. And perhaps hers as well? She’d been staring at him, but her attention turned to the naked or nearly naked slave-whores. Her eyes widened, and her mouth sagged open. Feeling a shift, a growing sense of his control over her and potential for even more, he jerked her close. She was small and slightly built, and yet a strength he didn’t fathom rolled through her. Had Eagle given it to her or was courage part of her birthright? Whichever it was, he’d discover the source. “You have never seen a slave?” He deliberately added a taunting note. “The Bakista have no need of captives?” “No.” She shook her head and tried to put more distance between them, but he wouldn’t allow it. He loved her heat, her struggle not to panic. She was a trapped doe looking at circling wolves, caring about nothing except keeping the wolves away from her throat, unaware of how exquisite the battle to survive made her. A plan began to form in his mind. Acting on its potential, he wrapped the lead rope around his wrist so he could keep her near him. She strained against the short leash, then stopped, probably because the rope was cutting into her neck. She would learn. Yes, she would learn. And Eagle would understand his power and reward his people because of it. “You have never seen a slave?” “Yes. Sometimes when other clans come to trade with my people.” Her attention was split between him and the heavy-breasted slave-whore who now stood at a respectful distance. This one, he couldn’t remember her name or even if she had one, had satisfied his need last night and knew to present herself for service upon

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his return. She wore nothing. A tattoo of crossed spears on the outside of her right breast identified her as Kebo property. “Were they whores?” he pressed. He rested a hand on his prisoner’s shoulder, his thumb sliding along her throat. “I—I do not know.” “You have not seen one servicing her master?” “Master? No.” “Tell me then.” He increased the pressure on her throat to let her know he could shut off her breath if he wanted to. She tried to turn away, prompting him to pull her even closer. Now he smelled her fear, her courage. The scents swirled inside him. “Do you understand a man’s needs? A man’s rights.” “Needs? Rights?” He felt her start to quiver, which increased his sense of power and strength. If— when—he bent her to his will, whatever connection she had with Eagle would be transferred to him. Anticipation for the journey, and maybe more, caused his groin to tighten. Although he knew how it was done and had dreamed about the intriguing and fascinating task, he’d never had the time or opportunity to train a new slave-whore. He looked forward to turning his young, attractive, desperately brave hostage into what he wanted her to become. When he was done, when her body, heart, and soul belonged to him, so too would her spirit, Eagle.

***** At least her captor was no longer holding the neck rope so tight that she could barely breathe, let alone remember where he ended and she began. But as the bigbreasted and giggling slave-whore led her in the direction the liege-lord had pointed, she had to fight off more unrelenting waves of despair. The whole time they’d been walking, she’d been acutely aware of the growing distance between herself and her clan, her family, her life. She’d been unable to ask herself what was going to become of her—what this man intended to do to and with her. Instead, she’d sent silent messages to those she loved, particularly her mother. I am alive. So far he has not hurt me. I sense the male animal in him. I have never known such a man, never guessed such a creature existed. He frightens me—and more. But somehow, somehow I will regain my freedom and return home where I belong. Pray for me, please. She’d wanted to pray to Eagle, but what existed between them was so new, so strange. She didn’t understand why Eagle had approached and gifted her. What Eagle wanted from her. Tears had burned at the back of her eyes the whole time she’d been forced to trudge behind the Kebo, but she’d refused to let them free because the man she hated as she’d never known it was possible to hate would know what was going on inside her. What

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he’d done to her. She would never let him sense the depth and weight of her weakness, never! “Foolish cunt,” the slave-whore spat, the abrupt words bringing her back to the present. Durc had left them and was conferring with the other warriors. “Cunt?” Tasia repeated, shocked. The woman apparently didn’t care that she was naked. She was deeply tanned everywhere. How long had it been since she’d worn anything? “I am like you, a woman.” “No, I am not. I am a whore, pussy, a creature who lives to please her masters.” “How can you say that? Do not think so little of yourself.” “Little?” The woman jerked on the neck rope, pulling Tasia off-balance. “I am proud of what I am, proud and satisfied.” Even with the awkward position, Tasia managed to give the woman a questioning look. Although her handler smiled, the gesture held no warmth. “Before the Kebo captured me, I believed I would marry and have many children. I might die giving birth and some of my babies might die as well. That was my reality. My clan had nothing. We were scavengers, digging roots and cooking grubs and insects, always moving.” She glanced around. “There was much sickness. Women who had seen only as many winters as I have fingers and toes looked and acted old. Many of the men were killed in battles or while hunting, and those who lived were often gone for many, many days while they watched our enemies or followed game.” Tasia wanted to ask what clan the woman belonged to but didn’t want to interrupt. “Then I was taken in a raid.” The woman unselfconsciously hefted one heavy breast. “Kebo warriors saw this and wanted it—and me. Now my belly is always full. When I please my masters, when I bring them to climax, they grant me the same.” Her smile became rich and full. Although she continued to keep Tasia off-balance, she shifted the hand from her breast to between her legs. Spreading her legs, she dipped two fingers into herself and stroked. Then she removed her fingers and held them in front of Tasia. “See how wet they are. Smell my juices, my excitement. I am always like this. Always wrapped in sex.” The pressure on Tasia’s neck abruptly slackened, but before she could fully appreciate the relief, the woman yanked up on her skirt, and as the warrior had done, rammed her hand between her legs. She started to shrink away. The noose tightened, and she forced herself to accept the inescapable. Fingers dragged over the loose flesh around her opening, pushed the lips aside, rammed into her woman’s place, her cunt. Impaled, she sucked in air. Waited. “Dry,” the woman announced as if the condition was something to be ashamed of. “But Master Durc will change that.” Her fingers burrowed deeper, forcing Tasia to stand on her toes. “When he is done with you, you will kneel at his feet in gratitude. Kiss his cock and take it into your mouth so he can come in your throat. He will be master of your body, and you will love his power.” 19

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“No! Never.” Shrugging, the woman brought her face close to Tasia’s while still spearing her. “Fight or surrender. What you choose makes no difference because he will win. He always does.”

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Chapter Four Master Durc. The woman’s threat echoed. The slave-whore had ordered her to squat and relieve herself. Although she felt humiliated, she’d been grateful for the drink of water she’d been given afterward. Feeling blessed moisture in her dry throat made it possible for her to accept the way she was now secured. The slave-whore had tied the neck rope to a tree as if she was a misbehaving dog and checked the knots securing her wrists. Then the other woman had dropped cross-legged to the ground near her and unselfconsciously started to run her fingers, knuckles, and palms over her own pussy. “I prepare myself for my master,” the woman had explained. Her deeply tanned cheeks looked flushed. She breathed rapidly, her eyes were glazed, and she smiled. “All Kebo warriors own me, and most want my cunt wet and soft, ready for them. The warliege is no different—except that he has the largest cock. His is the greatest gift. Remember that, hostage. Be glad you belong to him, to his cock.” Although she’d been placed in the tree’s shade, Tasia was sweating. She couldn’t say whether more than the sun was responsible—surely not because she wanted to feel the sensations that caused the woman’s pelvis to jerk and her pussy to weep. Be glad you belong to him, to his cock. No, never! I am still alive, Mother. Still thinking of you. Needing to see you. The Kebo are unlike any I have ever seen. Primitive animals. I will not become like them. I will not! With a start, she realized that Durc—she refused to think of him as a master—was striding toward her and the masturbating woman. Despite herself, she noted his cougar-like grace and the power in his thighs. She’d never seen a man who reminded her so much of a self-assured predator. And she was his helpless prey. “The hostage is docile?” he asked the woman who looked up at him with her fingers buried in her sex. “Docile. But I fear you have captured a frigid beast. There is no wetness to her.” “That will change.” No! Tasia wanted to insist but certainly the slave-whore had once issued the same protest. Did she even remember who she’d once been? Despite her determination not to show emotion, Tasia tried to shrink away when Durc closed in on her, but the leash wouldn’t allow that. Her hands had been tied behind her for so long that her shoulders ached, and her wrists were chafed. More than 21

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that, she was losing the distinction between herself and her captor. This was his world, he’d forced her to join him in it. “Lessons,” he said. “Many lessons, captive. But first you need to understand.” Her legs nearly went out from under her when he pulled his knife out of the strand holding his loincloth in place. Although she struggled to meet his gaze, she couldn’t. He seemed so close, so everything. “You are afraid,” he said unnecessarily. “Good. Fear is a powerful teacher.” He grabbed the top of the sleeveless dress she’d made last winter before drought changed everything. She knew what he had in mind, knew he’d succeed. Still, she recoiled. He didn’t try to keep her in place but allowed her to back up until the neck rope stopped her. Trapped and tethered her. Then, slow and deliberately, he cut through the soft leather first over one shoulder and then the other. She struggled to control her breathing, failed. His. Everything his. The dress slipped down, down, settled over her breasts. She arched her back in an attempt to keep the garment in place. He retreated a step and boldly regarded her. Ran his eyes over her thrusting breasts. “I have chosen well. And so has Eagle. You are a true woman.” Eagle? No! Eagle isn’t part of this. Eagle is for me! Closing in on her again, he grabbed the soft deer hide and pulled it down and over her breasts. They popped out. Hot air raked them. She gasped. He continued to tug, briefly lifting her tethered hands away from her buttocks as he slid the garment down over her hips, buttocks, and thighs. Each new sensation heightened her awareness of her body—his command of it. At length she stood naked and helpless before him with her dress puddled around her feet. She struggled to hold her head high. She ached to hide her suddenly hard nipples from his gaze. Eyes dark and unreadable, he studied her and her futile efforts. Fingers of lightning, of storm, ignited her entire body. Exposed. “Tie her legs,” he ordered. The slave-whore scrambled to her feet and ran off, ass and breasts jiggling. “You are unmarried but spoken for. Your hairstyle tells me this.” He stroked the slender braid along her right temple. “Yes.” Her throat closed. “Do you like the man you were going to marry?” Were? “I—you spoke to him.” He shot her a quizzical look. If it wasn’t for her bonds and nudity, and embarrassment and helplessness, they might have been two strangers getting to know each other. But they weren’t.

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“He is Sook, the man who told you about the food pits.” “He is old, ancient. Many of his teeth are gone.” She nodded. “Why would you want to marry him?” Want? What was that? “He is a skilled canoe maker, wealthy. He chose me because his other wives can no longer bear his children.” “Other wives? I do not understand the Bakista. Why would a man want responsibility for many women? If a Kebo woman’s husband dies, she goes to live with his closest male relative. He feeds her and her children and she shares chores with his wife and other women who may live with them. They fuck. But there is no marriage because a Kebo warrior does not want the burden. When warriors and hunters leave the village, those free women remain behind. We only take the slave-whores with us.” He might have said more if the slave-whore hadn’t returned carrying several lengths of rawhide. Before, Tasia had taken comfort from wearing a dress while the slave-whore had nothing to cover herself with, but Durc had robbed her of that, along with everything else. Did he consider her a slave-whore? Would he try to force her to become one? Tears again filled her eyes as the larger woman crouched and quickly, efficiently wrapped a rope around each ankle and then secured them together in such a way that she could stand in relative comfort but not walk. The other naked woman had increased her helplessness, but Durc was responsible. “Much changes for a new Kebo captive.” Durc’s attention focused on her trembling legs. “Many surrenders. For as long as I wish, you will have ropes on you. You will come to understand that you are mine. My possession. The lessons are hard, but when you have earned it, you will be rewarded for your obedience.” Overwhelmed, she stared up into midnight eyes, knowing and commanding eyes. When he untied her wrists, she gave fleeting thought to fighting, but she couldn’t run with her ankles bound, and the neck rope still held her fast. He lifted her arms away from her sides and secured them in front, relieving the strain in her shoulders. Did he expect her to thank him for the small favor? Never! She had no choice but to accept his too-bold hands as he tied a length of rope to that around her wrists, then threaded the new rope between her legs. She tensed, certain he’d invade her cunt as the slave-whore had done. Instead, he lightly ran a thumb over her labia. “Soft. Fresh. And not so dry. A start, hostage. A start.” He held the rope tight against her sex while he released her from the tree, then resecured her to it via the rope between her legs. He’d positioned the tie so high and tight that she was forced to stand with her back to the tree, the rope snug and unforgiving against her tender flesh. Even if her ankles were free, she wouldn’t have been able to move. Not this! Not reduced to your possession. Heat chasing through me, aware of nothing except you. 23

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“Now you will watch,” he announced. “Watch. Learn. Experience.” Her useless arms pressed against her belly, and her hands were nearly between her legs. They would have settled there if she’d been able to spread her legs. Her naked body was within his easy reach, within his control. His, yes, his. Let it happen. Just experience. No! Perhaps she should be grateful because he dismissed her while turning his attention to the slave-whore who’d settled herself on her knees in front of him. But when the woman pushed his loincloth aside and took hold of his huge, dark cock, Tasia’s hands tingled. Durc was already erect. Perhaps securing her had done that to him. If making and keeping her helpless excited him, she could only guess at the ways he’d use her body to pleasure himself. Mother! Mother! The slave-whore handled Durc’s cock as if was precious, both child and master. Straining up, she pressed the hard and swollen flesh between her breasts and made a home for him there. Durc clamped his hands in her hair but not, Tasia was certain, because he feared mistreatment at the kneeling slave’s hands. What does it feel like? To cradle a man’s essence between my breasts—what would it be like? The woman worshipped Durc’s cock. She stroked, caressed, ran her wet tongue over the blood-engorged organ, took it deep into her throat and began teasing and sucking. As she worked him, sweat glistened on her body. Her breasts moved as if they had a life of their own, swelling, the nipples hardening and thickening. Her eyes were nearly closed, nostrils flared. From where she’d been forced to stand, Tasia could see the woman’s buttocks clench and unclench. Sex with Sook had been quick and silent, a little painful, confusing. He’d ejaculated so quickly that she hadn’t had time to begin to respond so wasn’t sure she ever would. Because there were few secrets in a small village, she knew that occasionally couples fucked through most of the night. She’d heard their gasps, grunts and cries, the slap of flesh against flesh, pleasure-screams and intense, long, drawn-out pumping of bodies. The same thing was happening today, in front of her, for her viewing. She smelled shared sweat. Some of it came from her. The longer the woman serviced Durc, the stronger her sex scent became. Instead of being repulsed, Tasia pulled the aroma into her. And instead of trying to release the tension against her own sex, she strained and twisted, causing the rope to heat her. To feel a man’s flesh instead of the hide of some dead creature—to be able to spread her legs and close her fingers around a man’s cock, to have it fill her—anything except this terrible need!

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Unable to so much as think how she might separate herself from the scene, or if she wanted to, she studied first one and then the other face, mesmerized by an act she’d never seen. Even with Durc’s cock filling her mouth, the whore’s reactions were clear. Her sexual excitement was growing, building, taking over. She lived for what she was doing and wanted nothing else from life. Durc was harder to understand. Yes, his half-closed eyes blazed. Yes, he repeatedly pushed his sex into the mouth-cave. Yes, he sweated and his arms, neck and belly reminded her of sinew. But even as he gripped the whore’s hair, she sensed that his mind, his soul was elsewhere. That couldn’t be because, echoed by a series of harsh grunts, he spilled himself. But even as he drove himself one final time into the slave-whore’s mouth, his dark eyes remained untouched, cool and detached. Lonely. The reality of Durc’s isolation struck her like a blow and distracted her from the swelling, softening sensations in her own trapped sex. How was it possible for him to remain untouched by the woman who’d laid claim to his most precious organ? Maybe he didn’t see the whore as a woman, his equal. Instead, she represented a vessel, a means to an end, nothing more. Just as she’d been for Sook. Shaken by the revelation, she studied Durc’s quick return to sanity. Sook would be able to provide for her. Wealthy even by the standards of a wealthy tribe, his wives and children wanted for nothing and were admired, even envied. She’d do her part by helping with the chores and perhaps being allowed to assist with his valuable canoes. In exchange for occasionally spreading her legs and bearing his children, her belly would never be empty and her fingers wouldn’t bleed from overwork. And when he died, other wealthy men would court her for her share of Sook’s possessions. Her future had stretched rich and easy and inescapable before her—until today. Now nothing was certain. Except for one thing. “Will you rape me now?” she managed when Durc approached. His loincloth had dropped back into place. Not only was she naked while he remained clothed, but he could do what he wanted with his hands while he’d rendered hers useless. And not just her hands. “No. There will be no need.” “No need?” He showed no indication of wanting to explain further, giving her time to ponder whether she could believe him. With everything in her, she wanted the assurance, the safety of knowing he wouldn’t rape her. But she had no control over what he did, and they both knew it. Whether he was gentle or cruel toward his hostage, no Kebo would come to her aid. She was a war spoil. As the conquering leader of the dominant clan, he’d had every right to take her. Her people wouldn’t try to free her. She’d been sacrificed so the others could live. 25

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The overwhelming thoughts made her slow to comprehend that he’d placed his hands on her hips. When she tried to slip free, her efforts caused the rope to rub even more tightly against her newly hot crotch. He pressed her back against the tree. Once he had her in place and some of the tension in the rope had let up, he slid a hand between her legs. Trembling, afraid and yet excited, she froze. I am his. Everything about me belongs to him. “You began the day as mistress of your body, but no more. I guide your journey to understanding the changes.” Guide. Not force, please. He pushed the rope aside and pressed against the insides of her thighs until she separated her legs as far as she could. Watching her intently, he ran a rough finger along her loose, sensitive flesh. She expected the touch to be painful, his skin grating against hers. Instead he easily slid here, there, wherever he wanted. As he did, she weakened. Unconcerned with modesty, she stood with her legs as far apart as the ankle tethers allowed. Panted. Waited. Felt. Her suddenly heavy head fell back to be supported by the tree. She held her wrists to the side to give him greater access. Her head buzzed. Her world turned blood red. Her breasts ached. “A woman’s body heeds only one thing, need. Listen to the message, listen and enjoy.” His finger felt softer now, more like spring rain than sand. When he caught her flesh between thumb and forefinger, a sudden fever stole her breath. Over and over again he stroked her sex, heating her even more. Breathing took a great deal of effort. Even when she managed to suck in enough air, she still felt starved, but for what? Not being able to move was good. Having her hands tied robbed her of all responsibility. She’d feel, experience. Be used. “This is why I will not need to take you by force.” His voice was low and strong at the same time. A finger dipped into her, hinted at a great deal more, left her hungry. “Because the time will come when you will beg me to fuck you.” “No. Never.” Her head thrashed from side to side until he became a blur. His finger remained inside her, moving, always moving. She couldn’t think how she might repel him. The rest of her body shut down, leaving only her sex to respond—to weep. “Do not lie to me, or to yourself, hostage. Your body speaks the truth.” A sudden, uncomfortable fullness in the place only one man had ever invaded told her that a second finger had joined the first. Her throat burned as if her blood was boiling. In contrast, the muscles had been stripped from her legs. Even if her ankles had been free, she couldn’t have run. She lacked any will to try to free herself. He had done this to her, he with his fingers claiming her core and his ropes claiming her body and the sights and sounds and smells of his recent fucking filling her. “Her breasts,” he ordered. “Suck them.”

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Tasia’s head jerked forward of its own accord. Seeing a blurred figure approach, she blinked. The whore now stood beside Durc, her lips soft and full, her hands reaching out. Another in what now seemed like endless shudders tore through Tasia when the whore closed her fingers around her breasts, trapping the swollen flesh. The whore leaned over and lowered her head. Tasia gasped and fought when the whore’s teeth closed over her nipple, but Durc continued to plunder her sex, distracting her. “Surrender,” he whispered. “Not to me but to your body.” “No. No. No,” she chanted even as she did just that. She’d never imagined sensations like this, certainly not at a woman’s doing. Even when her married friends and female relatives admitted how much they enjoyed sex, she’d thought they must be exaggerating. When she’d first started hearing those words, she’d been shocked by the notion that things she had no control over might happen to her body. Then when Sook told her he wanted to be certain he’d chosen well with her, she’d come to his bed as a nervous but willing virgin, anticipating something she barely comprehended. After a few ruttings, she’d stopped being nervous and couldn’t say whether she was willing or not. She simply accepted. This however, this was beyond comprehension! To have a woman nibble and suckle and bathe her breast until her nipple ached and pulsed, to have her captor’s fingers buried within her core—and to want nothing else in life! She hated her helplessness. At the same time she loved it. As a prisoner she had no decisions to make, no control, no say. Instead she simply received. All rights had been stripped away. Her body belonged to this Kebo warrior. He owned her, ruled her responses. Knew her. Her head lolled back again. She could barely send enough strength to her legs to keep from collapsing. Her ankles and wrists burned from the rope. Confinement. Restrained. Her sex felt as if it was melting. At the same time it remained full and rich, responsive in wonderful ways. The whore moved from one saliva-bathed breast to the other, switching, switching, exposing first one wet and hard nipple to the air and then the other. Dizzy, Tasia tried to thrust her neglected breast toward the man and woman attacking her, but they refused to heed her silent plea. And although her thighs trembled and might have caught fire if he touched them, he deliberately, cruelly refused her. She struggled to push her pelvis at him. “Please. Oh, please.” “Understand, captive. Understand how I own you.” I don’t want this. I hate you. But even as the chant pounded through her, she knew she was lying. The time would come when she’d be filled with self-loathing, when she’d wish him dead. But not now. Now she burned. Her core dampened. She continued to gasp and plea, to strain toward the hands and mouth. Her body pulsed, 27

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the greatest sensation centered on her core but touched everything. Even her hair felt hot and alive. “Enough,” Durc ordered. “Leave us.” The whore withdrew her mouth, sighed, gave Tasia’s nipples a brief, hard pinch, disappeared. Durc planted himself in front of Tasia. He rotated his wrist slightly, forcing yet another finger to plunder her. Sook’s penis had been long but not as thick as this. She’d never felt so full, never known her tissues could expand so much. “You will become what I need you to be.” His voice lacked emotion, either that or she was so deep inside herself that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. “It will happen, not because I use force and pain, but because I understand what rules a woman.” “No, no.” “Yes.” His fingers rested inside her, impossible to dismiss. His other hand closed over a breast and engulfed it. Claimed it. Pressed tender, swollen tissue against bone. “You are untested, captive. A just-captured animal who must learn what it is to be mastered.” “No, no.” “Your words do not reach me.” The pressure on her breast increased and became almost painful. “You belong to me.” “Why? Please, why do you do this?” “You will understand, eventually, Eagle child.” “Eagle? My spirit—” The fingers buried within her began moving. She struggled to make sense of the sensations, to anticipate, to understand. At first the retreats and advances were little more than feathery brushes along her inner walls but quickly, too quickly for her to adjust, they increased in speed and intensity. His fingers pounded into her, shaking her body and giving her no choice but to let him ride her. The crotch rope pressed against one labia. Instead of being painful, the pressure only added to the overwhelming sensations. Her breast belonged to him. He commanded it as completely as his fingers ruled her sex. His fingers became a master drummer’s hand on a new drum, and he played her. The tempo picked up speed, slamming against and in her, turning her into a helpless creature caught in a fierce storm. Eagle? He seeks to reach Eagle through me? This way? The why and how of his methods escaped her. In truth she wasn’t sure she had a mind. Sweat ran off her. Heat rested against her cheeks, throat, shoulders. Her core became a flood, and she cried for him there. She didn’t exist beyond his touch and didn’t want to. “Please, please, please.” 28

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“Feel the heat, captive. Understand my command, slave. Know my power, whore.” Don’t care. Don’t care. Say what you want. Do what you want. “Please, please.” “Are you coming?” He punctuated his question by grinding his palm against her breast. “Coming?” “Your body has never caught fire before?” She didn’t know how to answer. Her inner muscles clamped down around his fingers. He pushed into her, and she pushed back. Panted. Started to scream. Shook. “Enough!” he barked and stepped back. In a disjointed, nightmare way she realized he’d withdrawn from her starving but about to be fed cunt. How could she survive without food, without satisfaction? She didn’t try to stop her scream and stared at him as the cry broke loose. “No!” “No what? What is it you want, slave?” “I do not know! I do not know.” She swayed, forcing her to lock her knees. “Think on it.” He again slipped between her thighs and patted her dripping flesh. “And understand that only I can show you the way. Only I.”

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Chapter Five “If you do not want to fuck her, turn her over to me.” Although Durc wasn’t surprised by Tupi’s comment, he resented the intrusion. He reluctantly turned from his sweating, shaking captive and faced the young, sharpchinned warrior. Obviously Tupi believed he had every right to watch, which he did because a hunting or war party’s survival depended on closeness, and fucking seldom called for privacy. “Leave her alone,” he ordered. Because they were speaking in the Kebo language, he doubted if the captive understood. Besides, she still looked more interested in what he’d brought to life in her than the rest of the world. “She is mine, no one else’s.” “Not even if I pay you?” Tupi teased. “I am so tired of our slave-whores. My cock aches for new flesh.” “Her flesh does not belong to you, now or ever, understand?” “What do you care? You do not want to fuck her.” Tupi was wrong. Although the slave-whore had recently satisfied him, his hardagain cock ached to be housed in the untested cave where his fingers had been. But he refused to let his captive know because she might believe she had some power over him. His goal depended on his being in control, keeping her needy and off-balance. Dependent on him. “I will do what I want to her, when I want.” He made his point by running his fingers along the valley between her swollen breasts. When she struggled to avoid the touch, he ground the heel of his hand against her belly. She tried to pull back. Foolish captive. She didn’t yet know how much she’d lost. “My plans and methods are mine. You do not need to understand them.” “Then I will have to watch.” Tupi smiled. “That way when I have my own captive, I will know how to handle her. How to turn her into an animal in heat for my pleasure.” You will never have a captive who speaks with Eagle, never understand that what I do goes beyond training a prisoner in how to service her master. Dismissing Tupi, he turned back toward the woman. He loved how helpless and eager to experience she looked. A sense of mastery gripped his cock. He’d claimed her, now owned her. She’d become a trapped mouse caught in his talons. Something in her eyes made him uneasy. Wisdom? Yes, she was excited and desperate to have her fire fed anew, but she wasn’t just a smoldering vessel. Her mind sought knowledge. She couldn’t possibly understand the power dwelling in her woman’s body, could she? But if she comprehended, then maybe she knew his weaknesses.

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Determined to make her believe she was wrong to think she understood anything about him, he wiped his wet fingers on her breasts. After replenishing himself from what seemed like her endless supply of sex juice, he rubbed that over her lips and cheeks. “I did this,” he told her unnecessarily. “I can make your cunt cry for me whenever I want, which I will frequently.” She struggled to focus. “Why?” “Because I can.” It was much more complicated than that. “And when you tire of my tears?” Today he couldn’t imagine ever growing bored with exploring the possibilities, and that too added to his unease. It was one thing to care deeply for one’s wife and even love her although he wasn’t sure he understood what the word meant because his parents had barely tolerated each other. But to have compassion for a female whose only value came from her ability to satisfy a Kebo cock was beyond his experience. And yet she was much more than a slave or whore. “Perhaps I will free you,” he said. “Perhaps I will turn you over to my companions.” “And if you want, you will kill me.” Wondering where the courage to say that came from, he grabbed her tied wrists and pulled them toward him which caused the crotch rope to become buried in her flesh. She gasped and struggled to free herself. As she did, hatred flashed in her expressive eyes. His unease snaked into fear. Because that could not be, he slapped her breasts. “Do not fight me, captive. The slave-whores want for nothing because they have learned that what a Kebo warrior wants comes first—first and always. You will live as long as I choose to let you. Do not forget that.” Although her legs shook so he thought she might fall to her knees, she stopped fighting and stood ready if not willing for him. “How can I forget? These ropes, your hands, make that impossible.” The long drought had made him and his people captives of another kind, but to be helpless, utterly helpless— “Feed her,” he ordered.

***** Because Durc hadn’t freed her hands, Tasia awkwardly ate the lukewarm mix of dried meat and nearly raw roots the woman who’d sucked her breasts had placed in a wooden bowl. The woman, who said her name was Cho, had released her from the tree and led her through the middle of the gathered Kebo warriors to a tall, spreading bush and ordered her to sit in its shade before leaving to get the food. Alone, Tasia had

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barely been able to fight the need to try to flee, but the men were watching her. No way could she outrun them and trying would surely incur Durc’s wrath. At least her cunt was free of the rope, for now. “What is going to happen to me?” she asked Cho. “He says he will not rape me. Can I believe him?” “He is your captor. He can do what he wants. No one will stop him, least of all you.” Hearing the words caused her to start shaking again. The strange heat he’d brought to life in her core had cooled and quieted. Yet, it remained an ember. She longed to put her hands there and finish what he’d begun even if she didn’t fully understand what that thing was. “Do not play with yourself,” Cho warned as if reading her mind. “Your sex now belongs to him, not you. Trying to take back ownership will anger him. He will make sure you never disobey again.” “Is—is that what happened to you and why you became a whore?” Cho sobered. She’d been sitting across from Tasia, obviously enjoying her clumsy attempts to feed herself. Now she leaned close, grabbed the rope she’d put back around Tasia’s neck and pulled down, forcing her face close to the ground. “Do not ask questions! My master has entrusted your training to me. I know what must be done.” But what is it? Knowing better than to ask, she struggled to get enough air into her lungs. The eagle feather dangled from her neck. She missed its feel on her skin and felt cold without it. Durc had stripped her naked, but although the necklace intrigued him and probably was why he’d taken her, he hadn’t removed it. Why not? Could Eagle find her among her enemies? After a while Cho released the rope, and ordered her to finish eating. Although the roots were nearly uneatable, she did so because she needed to remain strong. If she asked Cho what the warriors intended to do tomorrow, would the slave-whore answer? Like the other question, she didn’t dare risk asking this. And she refused to look for Durc. Refused to ask herself what he planned next for her. How much it might change her. Eagle? Please send me your wisdom. What does this man want of me? Am I his path to you? If you tell me to, I will find a way to kill him. And if I cannot, I will cause my own death. Anything to keep you, my spirit, free and strong.

***** It was dark before Durc came for her. She knew he’d arrived because suddenly the flesh over her shoulders tingled, and she needed more air in her lungs. Her pussy whispered an urgent message she didn’t understand. When the too-strong warrior grabbed her hair, she dutifully stood. And when he retied her arms so they were behind her, with ropes just above her elbows so her 32

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shoulders were drawn back but nothing on her wrists, she put up no resistance. What did free wrists matter if she couldn’t move her arms? She continued to stand like a captured animal—which she was—as he secured another rope around her waist and knotted it at the small of her back. He then drew up the length he’d left between her legs and tied it off at her belly. This tie was as tight and uncomfortable and unforgettable as the crotch rope she’d worn earlier had been, assaulting her flesh and more. Forcing her focus onto that part of her. He pulled her after him using the neck leash. She’d gentled wild dogs by accustoming them to being confined so the men could train them to hunt and guard. Now the same was being done to her—except she’d had no need to make the dogs focus on their sex. What next? What are you going to do to my body now? Not just try but accomplish? Her legs grew weak. She clenched her teeth. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull her thoughts off the way she knew she looked. He’d readied her as his gift to himself. The Kebo men were sitting around a campfire. Laughing and talking in their incomprehensible language, they clearly enjoyed each other’s company. Although it was warm enough that a fire wasn’t necessary, the flames and smoke kept insects away. She was grateful to be allowed that small kindness, at least she was until she understood what Durc had in mind for her. “Kneel before me, slave,” he ordered as he sat on a low log. “Remain by my side.” Shame and hatred made her slow to obey which earned her sharp slaps on her breasts. Desperate to put an end to what was more embarrassing than painful, she sank to her knees where he’d indicated but started to lean away. Grunting, he grabbed her hair and forced her to rest her cheek against his leg. Still holding her hair, he began kneading the breast closest to him. She, who’d once handled dogs with a constant touch, was learning what the unrelenting contact felt like. Demeaning. Unsettling. Exciting. The men spoke in their native language, and except for his hands on her, Durc seemed to have forgotten her. He talked, listened, occasionally laughed. His laugh was deep and rich, a man at ease in his surroundings. Smiling slave-whores crawled from one warrior to another, offering themselves. Sometimes the women took cocks in their mouths. Other times they positioned themselves as if they were dogs and offered their asses without hesitation to whoever wanted them. The men servicing and being serviced interrupted what they were saying only long enough to slam themselves into whatever openings they’d chosen long enough to reach noisy climax. She smelled sex’s wet heat. It seeped into her through her skin. Because of the way her captor had positioned her, her view of her surroundings was limited. The strain in her back and thighs never let up. Occasionally she distanced herself from the tension on her scalp by imagining herself clinging to Eagle’s back as her spirit explored the sky, 33

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but she couldn’t shake the impact of Durc’s fingers and palm on her breast. He didn’t touch her anywhere else which made her breast increasingly sensitive, the sensation reaching for but not yet touching her cunt. Nothing else mattered, not this first night away from her clan, or what her family must be thinking. She no longer cared what would happen tomorrow or even where or how she’d spend the night. His hand possessing her breast became everything. Caresses and strokes defined her. He’d roped her, taken ownership. She ate when he allowed, drank when he granted her that small and vital thing. He told her when she could stand, sleep, think, feel. And he forced sensations she’d never imagined on her, sensations that pulled her deep inside herself. This place by his feet defined her world. He could kill her, beat her, rape her, take her as a loving husband takes a beloved wife. Against her will, she began rubbing her cheek against her captor’s thigh. With him surrounding and claiming her, how could she do otherwise? He patted the top of her head but except for the unrelenting breast strokes, continued to pay her no more attention than if she’d been an obedient pet. Some of his strength seeped into her, and as the moments stretched out and her breast throbbed, she wondered if something of her was making its impact on him. How foolish she was to think that! Surely he was only interested in bending her to his will, turning her into what he wanted. And she didn’t know how to stop the assault. How to anticipate. He would fuck her, eventually. He might force her to sleep beside him, might compel her to curl up at his feet, hands roped behind her, ankles tethered. His. Ready to service him—service or die. “Take her,” he said abruptly. “Prepare her.” Cho emerged from the shadows to wrap her hand around the neck leash and pull Tasia to her feet. Once again her legs trembled. She didn’t try to tell herself that the long moments she’d spent kneeling were responsible. The trembling continued as Cho led her into the night and released the crotch rope and ordered her to relieve herself. When she’d finished squatting, Cho re-secured the now familiar rope before leading her back to the bush where she’d been fed. Each step caused the leather to rub against sensitive flesh, heightening her awareness of herself and forcing herself onto her toes. Always before she’d believed her eyes were the most important part of her body. Now only what rested between her legs mattered. “Do you like being gentled, tamed? Always restrained and helpless?” Cho asked as she rearranged Tasia’s hands so her arms were again in front of her and her wrists secured to the waist rope so she couldn’t lift her hands from her belly. At least the strain was gone from her shoulders. “Do you?” Cho repeated, jerking on the crotch rope. “I hate it!” “You say you do but this lies.” Cho ran her fingers between Tasia’s legs, then held her fingers under her nose. Tasia smelled herself and felt her wetness. “He owns you.” 34

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“He has you and the other women. What does he need with me?” Cho again yanked on the crotch rope, forcing Tasia onto her toes. “A slave does not question her master! Never forget that.” “I cannot—” “Silence.” I hate you too! She started to lower herself onto her heels. Yet another quick, hard jerk pulled her up again. Despite the strain in her calves, she remained as Cho obviously wanted. “Speak only when Master says you can. Say what he wants to hear. Do as he orders, always. When you have learned those things, embrace your new life.” No! Never! “Do not fight, slave. If you do, you will die. Become what he wants you to be. Turn your body over to him, your body and your mind.” I cannot. I will not.

***** Tasia spent the night lying beside Durc. Instead of raping her as she feared he’d do, he’d fastened her neck rope around his wrist, turned away from her, and promptly fallen asleep. Although the rope connecting them had enough slack in it that she found a relatively comfortable position, she couldn’t escape her thoughts. And her body remained alive and aware of his presence. Cho’s warnings hummed inside her. No matter how many times she willed herself to prepare for a careless moment on his part that would allow her to run, her thoughts always slid back to his touches, his caresses, his fingers on and inside her. A new life. Everything she’d once believed about the world and her place in it was being changed—by this man. Finally, fortunately, exhaustion overtook her, and she felt herself drift away. Her dreams were disjointed but featured Eagle, her family, and long winter nights spent listening to the clan’s storytellers talk about the Bakista beginning when Sun God created life from dirt and water. She’d grown up hearing how Coyote God was a trickster who tried to steal food from the other gods and about Thunder God’s fury and power. As a child, she’d occasionally had nightmares about Thunder God until her father soothed them away with reminders of how Thunder also brought rain and fed both plants and animals. After that, she sat in the open during warm downpours listening to the thunderclaps and watching lightning bless the sky. And she’d prayed. Thunder, you are truly a gift and are Eagle’s brother. I open myself to you, become your child. Show me what you want of me and how I can be of service to you. Perhaps Thunder had heard and had sent Eagle to show her the way to service because she’d been dreaming of Eagle for as long as she could remember. Once she became a woman, she began reaching out to Eagle in her mind and prayers. She asked 35

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her spirit to guide her to understanding of the gods and spirits. A force she hadn’t questioned had started sending her alone into the wilderness. As she walked or sat and studied her surroundings, Eagle had flown over her, coming closer and closer. Thank you. Thank you, she’d prayed. A few days ago, for the first time, Eagle had landed near her, touched her with His great wing and blessed her with a feather. At that moment, she’d been at peace not just with Eagle but all spirit creatures. Tonight, however, Thunder God sounded angry in her mind, and her rapidly beating heart frightened her. She couldn’t find Eagle. Half awake, she shifted from her back to her side. The change forced her to face Durc. He was still turned away from her, his size and length defining her world. She closed her eyes and tried to slide into that place where nothing could touch her. Before she could, a new sound reached her. Heart thudding, she tensed. The sound repeated, sharp and angry with a touch of fear laced through it. She started to lift her head, but let it down again when she realized Durc was responsible for the sharp grunts. His legs jerked, and his hips moved repeatedly, making her wonder if he was dreaming about fucking her. Then he abruptly turned onto his back, arms flailing. This wasn’t a dream but a nightmare. Even as she scooted away as best she could to avoid being struck, she wished she could comfort him. The images inside him had to be violent. He struggled to escape them. He mumbled in Kebo, but she didn’t need to understand to comprehend. What could the Kebo war-liege be afraid of? Watching his jerky movements and hearing his low cries, she wondered if he was dreaming of battle or a dangerous hunt. Because the men of her clan seldom had to hunt and never pursued anything dangerous, she hadn’t given much thought to the possibility that bringing down game put a man’s life at risk. Battle then, maybe memories of war? Or something deeper? Something that came from her captor’s soul? Perhaps he wasn’t as strong and powerful as she’d first believed. The realization brought her to a crouch. Yes, he still reminded her of an elk or cougar, but he was human, not an animal. And humans bled and died. They laughed and cried, felt joy and sorrow. Could she use her newfound knowledge to escape? If she learned his weakness, discovered what made him cry, would she become the strong one? Even with the hated ropes on her, could she tap into his weakness enough to kill him? Kill?

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Chapter Six Although Cho hurried over when Tasia and Durc woke up, he ordered the slavewhore to leave. Cho glared at Tasia but did as she was ordered, providing Tasia with yet more proof of how completely the Kebo men ruled. “I choose to spend more time with you today,” Durc announced once they were alone. He sat up, prompting her to do the same. “Because of our new food supply, there is no need to hunt today.” What are you going to do to me? But although she desperately needed the answer, she said nothing as he hauled her to her feet. As Cho had done yesterday, he led her into the bushes and released the crotch rope so she could urinate. He did the same, their hot streams soaking the earth. Relieving himself did nothing to ease his erection. He closed his hand over his cock. “When you are ready I will put this in you, but it will not be rape. Instead, you will beg me.” “No. Never!” She fought the desire to try to back away. But even if she managed to briefly escape his grip, without use of her hands, she couldn’t fight him. “You still say that?” he taunted. He released his hold on her neck rope but only so he could grab her nipples. Using his new hold, he hauled her closer. “Even after what happened to you yesterday, you continue to lie to yourself?” “It is not a lie!” His fingers pressed against her suddenly hard nubs. Her helplessness weakened her in ways she couldn’t comprehend. Ways she ached to surrender to. He shrugged and smiled. The smile held as he forced her to walk a few steps in one direction, turn abruptly and stumble where he next directed. Back and forth in front of him he guided her, fingers hard and inescapable on her flesh until she became dizzy. “So easy to control, so easy.” Teeth clenched, she ground her heels into the earth and glared at him. He jerked. Nostrils flaring, she leaned away from him. How dare he! Instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip but didn’t force her to walk again. Her breasts were becoming numb—numb and alive at the same time. A moment ago she’d been hungry and thirsty. Now nothing except his hold and what he could do to her mattered. “I want you to fight,” he told her. “Because when your surrender comes it will be complete.” Complete surrender? Was it possible?

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Putting a lie to her resistance, he turned her in a quick circle around him. This time she didn’t make the mistake of resisting. Let him think he was winning this battle. The war was all that mattered. After completing the circuit, he stopped her and tugged her in the opposite direction. He’d turned her into a leaf caught in a strong wind. “What do you want?” Her desperate tone filled her with self-loathing. He stopped pulling and held her so close that his breath heated her temple and made her ear tingle. “Eagle Spirit.” Of course. But even if she was willing to tell him about the thoughts and prayers that, maybe, caused Eagle to approach her, she prayed Eagle listened only to her. She’d reached out in her mind and soul to the spirit—she, not he! Eagle had gifted her with a feather while he’d probably sent an arrow through one. Would he do the same to her? Wound her, refuse to let her eat or drink? Overwhelmed, she stood small and helpless before him after he released her nipples. Taking up her leash again, he turned his back on her and hauled her behind him to where the slave-whores were preparing breakfast. He sat on the same log he’d used last night and ordered her onto her knees again. Her stomach growled, and her mouth filled with saliva. He put at least a temporary end to the question of whether he intended to starve her when he placed two small wooden bowls before her. One held water, the other bits of cooked roots and half-ripe berries. She leaned down and lapped from the bowls like the dog she’d become. Doing so forced her buttocks into the air. Her breasts and feather necklace dangled. Her captor studied her while he ate. He wasn’t the only one. She finished as quickly as she could and had started to rock back on her haunches when he planted a foot on the back of her neck, forcing her face to the ground. She managed to turn her head to the side, but there was no getting out from under his weight. As the warriors ate, talked and laughed, she waited for hands on her breasts or between her legs, but as he’d done last night, Durc seemed to have forgotten about her. Only after speaking earnestly to a couple of warriors did he lift his foot off her neck. “Get up,” he ordered. Clumsy, she hurried to obey. Standing before him, waiting for his next command, she took in her surroundings. She was in the middle of a Kebo hunting and fighting camp, her senses assaulted by strange sights, smells, sounds. As long as Durc kept ropes on her, she couldn’t leave, could barely take a step. Already the only home she’d ever known seemed a distant memory. Do not forget me, Mother. Tell your grandchildren about their aunt who sang to them and rocked them to sleep. Tell them that I went to live with Eagle so they do not worry about me. And if you can, believe the same thing yourself. Memories washed over her, taking her back to the birth of her oldest sister’s first child. She’d held the impossibly small infant to her then immature breasts and wept 38

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with joy. She’d cried again at her grandmother’s death and then once more when her grandfather left this world to join his wife in the afterworld. “What are these tears?” Durc demanded. “You cry for yourself?” She threw back her shoulders as best she could. “No. Never.” Cocking his head, he studied her while she blinked away her tears. Then he led her away from his companions. She sensed eyes on her retreating back but kept her gaze on the ground. If she wasn’t tied and surrounded by her captor’s clan members, she’d soon feel like a Bakista woman again, wouldn’t she? But maybe it was already too late to return to what she’d been. She thought about the slave-whores and what their presence said about how females were seen by the warriors. Was it the same for their wives and daughters or were Kebo women respected? And if he took her to the Kebo village, would someone, anyone, help her escape? The question of how she’d get back to her people and whether her return would endanger them made her slow to realize he’d taken her past their sleeping place. When, finally, he stopped and looked around, she realized he’d led her to an open, treeless area. “Eagle can see us here,” he said. “Watch and understand what has happened between us.” “Why do you want Eagle to see?” He didn’t answer. When he untied her wrists, she realized this was the first time they hadn’t been fastened to her belly since last night. Not caring what he thought, she rubbed her wrists. Once the tingling sensation faded, she closed a hand around her eagle feather. “Why have you not removed this? You have taken everything else from me.” His eyes warned her to be silent, but she couldn’t. “You envy what is between Eagle and me. Perhaps you fear it.” “I have nothing to fear from Eagle!” “Can you be sure? I came to Eagle with a maiden’s heart and thoughts, opened myself to Eagle’s wisdom and did not ask anything of Him. Perhaps that is what He understands, not a warrior’s force.” She indicated the rope marks on her wrists and fought the pull of his masculine body. “Without force and courage, a man is nothing.” He shook his head as if weary of his words. “When we fuck, you and I will become one. Eagle will understand.” “I will never willingly fuck you, never.” That earned her a glare so intense that if she hadn’t already been naked, it would have stripped her. Then although his gaze continued to burn her, he stepped back. He studied her from the top of her head to her feet, the journey slow and intense. His gaze touched her, heated her. Unnerved by her reaction, she took a tentative step, placing more distance between them. She continued to wear the crotch rope and another circled her neck and hung between her breasts, but other than those things she was free. Free!

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Propelled by something she didn’t try to comprehend or fight, she whirled and ran. Her feet slapped against the ground and tall, dead grasses. She held the neck rope so she wouldn’t trip over it, clenched her teeth against the pressure along her pussy. Her surroundings blurred. She couldn’t see where she was going, didn’t know whether she was running away from or toward the Kebo warriors. Her desperate flight took her toward some tall trees whose shade might hide her, and she put all her energy and speed into reaching the dense shadows. The sun beat down on her. Rocks and other debris cut her feet, and she sensed Durc close behind. Still she listened to her heavy footsteps, her already ragged breathing, the weak wind. And she ran. Help me, Eagle! Make me more than the woman I am. Turn me into a deer, a bird. Show me how to fly, please! She didn’t look behind herself. Instead, she focused on the top of the rise ahead of her. Reach it. Reach it. Feel the breeze and sun on your skin. See great distances. Scan the sky for Eagle. Taste freedom. Run! Just run. Durc caught her around the waist and lifted her. She dug her nails into his forearms and tried to kick back at him. Before her heel could connect, he swung her to his side. Her feet found only air. He threw her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her. Although she couldn’t struggle until she’d sucked in fresh air, maybe he didn’t know because he grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her. He forced them as high as they’d go, straddling her hips at the same time. His weight settled on her buttocks. Screaming, she twisted under him and strained against his restraining hands. Despite her frantic struggle, he easily remained astride her as he quickly, expertly secured her wrists behind her. Once he’d again rendered her arms useless, he stopped pressing down but kept her in place. “I wondered,” he said. “Wondered if you would still try to get away.” How foolish she’d been to think she could! Feeling as helpless as she had the first time he’d tied her, she forced herself to stop resisting. And she refused to cry or beg. After several moments, he got off her and rolled her onto her back with her hands under her. He took advantage of her arched position to draw his fingertips over her breasts. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to feel, not to react. When he pinched her nipples, she gritted her teeth and breathed through her nose. Fight him. Fight yourself. He planted a hand low on her belly and started moving toward her core. “No!” She started kicking. He backed off. She continued kicking, relishing in her small and inadequate victory. She paid little attention when he took hold of her neck lead. In the quick, sure way of a man whose speed means the difference between life and death, he looped the loose rope around her knee and pulled it toward her neck. With her leg now bent close to her body, he had no trouble knotting the rope so she couldn’t straighten her leg. After satisfying himself that he’d hobbled her, he stood. He

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looked down at her, forcing her to answer his gaze. He said nothing. His eyes spoke for him. Mine. In every way I choose, mine. Tension on the back of her neck forced her head down. She lost sight of him when he stepped behind her. Seeking a slightly more comfortable position, she squirmed until she was on her side with her bound leg closest to him. The leg under her remained free, not that it mattered. Only once she’d given up trying to lift her head did she fully acknowledge her helplessness. Her sex was easily accessible to him. She could squirm and struggle and refuse to hold still, but she had no use of her arms, couldn’t kneel or stand, couldn’t close her legs. Exposed. Ready for him. “You have done this to yourself.” He ran his toes along the back of her bound leg. “By fighting, you force me to demonstrate what I can and will do to you.” Countless retorts clogged her throat, but she remained silent. Her position reminded her of just-killed deer strung up to be gutted. Although surely he had no intention of doing that to her, at least not yet, she felt herself sink deep into herself. She kept her thoughts trapped inside. It was the only privacy she had left. “I could leave you here.” His surprisingly gentle toes drew closer to her cunt, a slow journey home. “Abandon you. Wolves would find you but until they did, you would be alone, uncomfortable, frightened, wanting to beg me for mercy but unable to.” No! No. “If I die at your hands, Eagle will seek revenge.” “Eagle is my spirit! There is no need for revenge because you want what I do to you.” Leaning down, he patted her buttock. “No!” She tried to squirm out from under him, but although her toes dug into the earth, she remained where he’d placed her. “I will never want you.” “How little you know, slave. How little.” He continued patting her hip, occasionally changing his touch from possessive to an almost gentle stroke. “Stop fighting yourself. Listen to what your body is saying.” Although she hated doing so, she had no choice. And in truth, having no say over what was happening to her made it easy to concentrate on him, the contact between them. She’d studied his life-hardened hands so knew they could easily inflict pain, but these touches were gentle and intimate, speaking of a journey he had no doubt he could take her on. He knelt. She bent her leg a little more to release the pressure on her neck and then let the earth support her. Let his hands teach. Slow, so slow, he explored her breasts with featherlight fingertips. He trailed his other hand over her hip, thigh, knee, calf, even her instep and toes. Occasionally he massaged her foot with fingers that knew how to ease the damage she’d done to it by trying to run away.

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“I am a compassionate master, little one. I reward as well as punish. Give as well as take. The decisions will always be mine.” He released her foot and began backtracking up her leg. Each place he touched came alive. “Only I will say when or if your sex will share in the lessons. For that to happen, for you to be rewarded, you must please me. Put me first, acknowledge me as your master, your god.” She struggled to concentrate, but his fingers were moving closer, closer to her cunt. Did anything else matter? In her mind, she stood looking down at herself and Durc. Saw a large, dark, strong man bending over a small, sweat-slickened woman. The man became godlike and allknowing, all-seeing. Masterful. The woman worshipped him, handed herself to him, thanked him for his every gift. Thanked the gods for making her a woman. “You want this, do you not?” He stroked her exposed sex. “Need it.” “Yes.” She hated herself. “You will do anything to be touched there again.” Another brief stroke punctuated his words. For too long she waited, waited and wanted. But although need attacked her like a winter storm, he rocked back, folded his arms across his chest, and regarded her. On the verge of pleading, she forced the words to remain inside her. I do not know what I want, whether to listen to my body or heart or soul. I want to hand myself over to you. Need to experience what I never have. Must have back my world. “I feel your battle.” Leaning close, he blew warm air over her hot core. Sobbing, she pressed herself against the earth. “The surrender you fight.” By way of answer, she squeezed her eyes shut. In her mind she was back home listening to Bakista children play while Sook instructed her in how to prepare the deer and elk hides he intended to use on his next canoe. She concentrated on the way his long, slender, yet calloused fingers worked their magic and marveled at his patience and told herself it was a blessing that he’d chosen her to share his bed and chores. Then her mind fastened on the few times they’d had sex and how long he’d had to fondle his penis before it hardened. He hadn’t said, but she’d known she’d be expected to do that for him and that getting him ready for sex would take time, but once he’d housed himself in her, he’d quickly be done needing her. The thoughts and images faded, replaced by a stranger’s knowing hands on her throat, shoulders, breasts, hips, belly. Her captor’s fingers said her body was his to do what he wanted with it. He alone dictated whether she would live or die, eat or starve, speak or be robbed of the ability. See or not see. At the moment he was being gentle and intimate, but if she displeased him or the whim struck him, he could inflict terrible punishment.

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The question of what might cause him to punish her opened her eyes. His hands flitted over her thighs. Even afraid, she was acutely aware of the butterfly touches, the melting sensation. “This is why our slave-whores remain with the Kebo. Although they could run away, they do not. They no longer think of a different life. You have begun the journey each of them took when we first captured them.” He pressed his fingertips against her buttocks, stroking, grinding, leaving his imprint. “The journey will change you. And when I am done, Eagle will understand.” She followed his fingers over her hips, up her side to her arms, then down her back, easing the tension in her tied arms and neck. He moved behind her, rested his knees against her buttocks, leaned over her and cradled a breast in a large, broad hand. “Soft. So soft. A breast any Kebo warrior would want, but it is mine.” His other hand went between her legs. A finger lightly rubbed the entrance to her anus, causing her to jump and catch her breath. “All of you is mine, slave. Do you understand?” Nostrils flared, she struggled to mentally return to her village, but his fingers kept her there. With him. He slid closer to her cunt. She waited. Waited some more. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Felt. He took control of her labia by lightly but firmly pressing them together and drawing down. Stretching what had never been stretched. Pulled sensitive and tender tissue. Not sure or caring whether she was alarmed or aroused, she tried to scoot away. “No, no.” He released her flesh but only so he could cup his palm over her opening. “This is your gift to me.” He demonstrated by sliding a finger into her. “Not freely given but a gift nonetheless.” Another joined the first, filling her. She lifted her head in an attempt to anticipate his next movement and tried to look behind her, couldn’t. “Stop. Please stop.” “You do not want me to do that, captive. We both know it so do not lie to us. Feel this. Feel and let your body speak the truth.” Although she sensed what was coming next, the power behind his driving fingers shocked her. Each thrust propelled her along the ground. The drive and retreat, drive and retreat repeatedly stroked her inner passage, but there was no discomfort. Instead, his invasion fed her internal heat. Beyond anything except experiencing and needing, she struggled to match his rhythm. When he powered deep into her, she met him with a strength of her own, increasing the lightning-fed sensation. Panting, she let her head fall back against the ground. After resting a moment, she lifted it again and once more tried to look back at him. Like his invading fingers, however, his features remained out of view.

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“Sight does not matter, captive. Only what you feel, anticipation. Whatever I want to have happen to you will. Accept. Start to worship me.” “No. No.” He flexed his knuckles. She arched her back and panted. “Worship me, little one. Stop fighting.” She strained against the ropes around her wrists. The hot need to close her legs around him and keep him with and in her compelled her to fight the knee-to-neck restraint. Nothing gave. Nothing except her resistance, her fight, her will. He’d dragged her to the edge of a cliff. Now he pushed her even closer and restrained her at the same time. “This is mine,” he chanted, sounding out of breath. “You are mine. Never forget that, slave. Never, no matter what happens to us, whatever I want from you, I will take. And you will beg me to take more. Hand your body to me.” “No, no, no.” More friction. Heat enough to burn her. Melting and caught in a violent thunderstorm at the same time. His hand taking her where she’d never been before, violating and yet not. Her body was drenched. She couldn’t tell what came from her skin and what had been born deep in her cunt. The storm’s intensity increased. She lived only for thunderclaps and lightning. For the end to the awful pressure inside. The crying need. “Yes, yes, yes!” “You are coming?” “Coming?” He shoved even deeper, but this time he didn’t retreat. “Climaxing.” “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted although she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “No, slave, no.”

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Chapter Seven Durc released the rope he’d used to hobble his captive. He gave fleeting thought to releasing her hands as well, but until he’d regained a measure of control over himself, he didn’t dare take a chance on her getting free. If she fled, he’d run her down like a wolf after a doe, slam her to the ground, force her legs apart, shove into her. Satisfy his terrible hunger. And in the process, he’d show her how weak she’d made him. She’d understand who was the master and who the slave. At the moment she appeared content to remain on her side, panting, her newly released leg still deeply bent. Keep her like that, helpless against her body. Do not let her know the truth. His legs shook when he stood, forcing him to concentrate on what he was doing as he backed away from his Bakista captive. He hadn’t asked her name because he’d wanted her to believe he didn’t consider her a human being, but now he wished he could speak it. Feel it on his tongue. His cock throbbed, and his balls seemed to be trying to pull themselves up inside him. If he’d dared, he’d masturbate, but although he’d come in a few moments, he refused to give in to his body’s cries. She needed to believe she was the only weak one, the only one with no self-control. That he didn’t hate himself. He had to present himself as aloof and above flesh’s unimportant needs. But he couldn’t do those things and look at her. Cursing his faltering restraint, he stalked away, not stopping until he’d neared the edge of the clearing. Then because he was far from finished with her, he turned around. She’d sat up and was on her knees, head hanging and the rope sticking to her sweating breasts. Her long, thick hair had fallen forward to obscure her features, but her body said everything he believed he needed to know. He’d succeeded. Taught her a lesson she’d never forget. She’d never know about his self-loathing, his powerful desire to apologize and let her go. “You did not come, did you?” he asked from a hopefully safe distance. His painfully straining cock threatened to split his loincloth. She stared at the ground, her body angled away from him. “Answer me! Did you come?” “I-I do not know.” So innocent. A flower bud. “Is your body satisfied? Silent.”

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She shook her head and continued to concentrate on her breathing. The effort caused her breasts to rapidly rise and fall. He noticed that she was squeezing her thighs together, a clear sign that he’d left her hungry. Maybe as hungry as he felt. If they came together, they might cause each other to catch fire. They’d throw themselves at each other, arms reaching and gripping, pelvises demanding connection, legs twining. Midnight words being spoken. Lost inside himself, he belatedly noticed that she was struggling to get to her feet. He could have helped her or forced her to remain on her knees. Instead, he waited to see what she planned to do. To his surprise she walked up to him and positioned herself so he could touch her if he wanted—if he dared. She looked like an innocent fawn that doesn’t understand a wolf’s fangs, or maybe a confident bird that knows its wings will keep it safe from an earthborn grizzly’s claws. He half expected her to take flight. “I have been told that nothing means more to a man than fucking,” she said, head high. “That thoughts of fucking come before everything else and sometimes makes it impossible for him to think of what he should be doing. Is it like that for you?” Shocked by her boldness, he folded his arms across his chest. He couldn’t say whether he wanted to attack her courage or watch it grow. “Your silence speaks for you. That and your cock.” She looked down and kept her gaze on him there. “Do not anger me, slave.” “My name is Tasia. I am a Bakista, a woman about to be married, someone who speaks to Eagle, someone you envy and resent. Your envy has made you cruel.” Cruel? No, anything but that. He slapped her cheek, the sharp sound alarming him. Although her head snapped back and color flamed where he’d struck her, she continued to stand up to him. “You think you can silence me with a blow? You believe that doing what you have turns me into an animal, a slave? You are wrong, Durc, wrong.” “I am your captor, your master!” “A man. Only a man.” On the verge of striking her again, he managed to control the impulse that brought back unwanted memories of his father. As he waited for his anger—if that’s what it was—to die away, he pondered why she was risking punishment. Other than his physical arousal, something she’d doubtlessly seen all her life, he’d shown no weakness. Had he? “A strong man,” he pointed out. “A man with ropes and knowledge of your body.” “And I am a woman with knowledge of what happens to you at night.” Alarm shot through him. He struggled for composure. “I am more than you believe I am, Durc,” she continued. “Eagle has taught me wisdom and understanding. Your dream, your nightmare—when you have no control over your thoughts and actions, you cannot hide the fear living deep inside you.”

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“I fear nothing!” Once, yes, he’d lived in terror of the angry, hate-filled man who was his father, but he was no longer a small and helpless child. Now she was the helpless one. And she wasn’t afraid of him. Did he know how to change that? Did he want to? Need to? Movement high overhead pulled his attention off her. Eagle floated high in the sky, watching them. Awed and shaking a little, he lifted his arms and closed his eyes. Hear this warrior’s prayer. Understand that your strength will make me even stronger and protect the Kebo, my people. See that I have made the woman into my possession and what exists between you and she should be shared with me. Eagle sent nothing to him. His heart and soul remained empty, seeking. Alarm lapped at him. Was he unworthy of Eagle? Unworthy to be called war-liege? What nightmares? I no longer dream of the past. But maybe that is why I sometimes wake up feeling as if I have spent the night in battle. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Eagle had come closer. Eagle floated over Tasia, not him. Tasia who’d seen his night-weakness. Eagle must believe him strong and fearless like Eagle, must believe his worthiness and power. Otherwise, he’d fail his people. The Kebo would die of hunger and thirst. Propelled by his dark and frightening thought, he closed in on his captive and grabbed her neck rope. Steady pressure forced to bend her head toward him. Eagle floated closer, then held steady. He tugged. Tasia’s head rested against his chest. He felt her strain but allowed her no freedom. Cupping a hand under one breast, he cradled what belonged to him. Not only this feels my touch but her pussy, her lungs, her heart. And when I hold her spirit in my hands, I will hold you, Eagle. I will have become the Kebo’s greatest warrior. The drought will cease to punish us. We will survive, thrive. All women will give birth, and no Kebo children will die. Because I walk with you, Eaglespirit, in my soul. Eagle drifted even lower, hung in the air silently watching, learning.

***** Any hope Tasia had that Eagle’s appearance would change the way Durc treated her was dashed as he looped more ropes around her. Perhaps she should be grateful because her hands were no longer behind her, but there was little improvement in their new placement. After securing several loops over her pelvis, he’d tied her arms down by her sides. Other loops had gone both over and under her breasts and around her back. The ropes were kept in place by ties at the elbows. Not content with constricting and displaying her breasts, he looped more rope around each breast, which caused them to stick out unnaturally. 47

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“Not just your cunt belongs to me,” he announced as he stepped back to observe what he’d done. “I claim your breasts as well.” Any thought she had of denying his claim was silenced when he gripped her nipples and drew her into the middle of the opening. Overhead, Eagle followed them. “Eagle watches and learns,” he told her. “Your lessons are becoming His.” Wondering if she’d ever understand a man’s thoughts, she concentrated on controlling her breathing. Instead of being repelled, the new ties fascinated and excited her. She’d never tell him of course, never admit she enjoyed the sensations, but she couldn’t help her response. Earlier she’d felt as if she was standing at the edge of a cliff desperately needing to catapult herself into the air. If only he’d let her do that now! Otherwise, she didn’t know how she’d survive more. “Earlier you watched while the slave-whore took me in her mouth,” he said. “It is now your turn.” “No! I cannot!” “You can and you will. And Eagle will see how you obey your master.” So that was why he intended to climax inside her mouth. What she didn’t understand was why he was going to so much effort to try to reach out to Eagle. Surely a Kebo war-liege was chosen for his courage and fighting skills. Such a man relied on his strength and weapons, not prayers whispered to a winged creature. A spirit created by Sun God and Thunder God’s brother. Trying to comprehend her captor’s thoughts distracted her from the tension around her breasts. A hard squeeze to her nipples brought her back. “Do not try to leave me.” “How can I?” She indicated her helpless body. “You are more than arms and legs. You are also your soul. I need it with me. I will have it with me.” He made his point by pulling down on her breasts until she was forced to kneel before him. She felt his eyes on her. Although she struggled against acknowledging his gaze, she looked up. He was large and powerful, a wolf or grizzly. The predators feared nothing and took what they wanted. Helpless before him, she wondered if there was anything he couldn’t make her do. Or if she’d want him to stop. The men of her clan weren’t this strong or commanding. Next to him, they appeared as half-grown trees while his roots dug deep into the earth and his great branches spread over the land. The veins on his forearms stood out in dark relief. His thighs and calves put her in mind of boulders while his long, coarse hair reminded her of a cougar’s tail. His lashes were thick and long and dark and beautiful. This man, beautiful?

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“You will suckle me. And you will not use your teeth.” He gripped her hair, forcing her head back. “Understand! You will take my seed into you where it will become part of you, understand?” Your eyes. Your incredible eyes. “Yes.” “Do you?” he whispered. “Do I?” He shook his head as if angry, but whether at her or himself she couldn’t tell. “This must be done. It must! I expect to be pleasured. To be brought to climax.” His grip relaxed. “When you have satisfied me, you will be rewarded.” Rewarded. Her belly clenched. Life was so simple. Obey him and live. “How—how will I know when you are pleased?” “That is for me to decide, captive.” He hadn’t called her a slave, but perhaps he hadn’t meant anything by the change. She should hate both words. She would if he wasn’t standing over her. Wouldn’t she? Releasing her hair, he turned his attention to removing his loincloth. He drew out the disrobing, not, she firmly believed, to draw out the impact of his strength and size but because he had to force himself to finish what he’d begun. He dropped the garment to the ground and stood, naked except for his magnificent necklace. “How—how did you come by that?” She indicated the large feathers resting against his powerful chest. “You killed an eagle?” “Never. Eagle is sacred to me. The first was part of my manhood ceremony. Some I found and accepted as a gift from my spirit, my spirit who waits for me to prove my worthiness. Others were given me by my chief when I had killed the enemy.” “Killed?” Violence was so different from the Bakista way of life, and yet battle and war were common among many clans. “You are surprised?” “I do not understand why one man would take the life of another. My people are peaceful, and yet we thrive. When others come, we welcome them. Trades, not injuries or death, are exchanged.” “I know.” He frowned. “The difference between us… I do not want to talk now.” You want me to suck your cock, make me accept your dominance, my inability to fight. And because you believe making us one will bring you close to Eagle. One. Fucking. Mating. Again her muscles clenched. She felt her cheeks, belly and tied breasts heat. “Learn something new today, captive. Take me into you.” He punctuated his command by gripping the rope around her breasts. The drawing sensation was both uncomfortable and exciting, but if he increased the tension— Determined to keep that from happening, she leaned forward. She saw nothing except the large, hard organ waiting for her. Then his cock blurred. She smelled his maleness and felt his heat. His presence blanketed her. Not sure she could do this, she nevertheless parted her lips and extended her tongue.

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She shuddered at the first tentative touch, pulled needed air deep into her, lightly licked. His flesh at the end felt like a butterfly’s wing, a wing draped over a rock. She’d never touched something so soft and strong. He took hold of her hair, proof that he didn’t trust her. Just as she didn’t trust him—or her own body. Hoping he wouldn’t push her exploration or ridicule her for knowing so little about what he expected, she lightly closed her lips over his tip. She hadn’t expected the taste to capture her attention. She made no attempt to compare it with anything she’d ever tasted before but simply experienced. Not questioning how much of him would fit inside her, she concentrated on increasing her control over him. The thought of imprisoning his cock in much the same way he’d imprisoned her became all-consuming. Eyes closed, mind empty of everything except sensation, she opened her mouth a little more. They ceased to exist as two separate human beings, captor and captive, equally untrusting. Bit by bit, flesh by flesh she took him into her body and became part of him. When her straining jaw muscles protested what seemed like an impossible task, she withdrew but only long enough to swallow and coat her mouth with saliva. Then, needing this strange experience in ways she didn’t comprehend, she again absorbed him. She loved the conflicting messages of strength and weakness radiating out from him, powerful male and lonely, needful human being. The various ropes bit into her flesh and reminded her of how unequal they were, but instead of hating this confinement, she accepted this proof of how profoundly she was being changed. Even as she claimed and sheltered him, he did the same to her. She embraced one small part of him while he possessed all of her. She felt his growing tension and sexual excitement. It became hers. Her mind shifted. She saw, not a bound woman kneeling before the warrior who’d mastered her, but someone who was both master and slave. He ruled her. She ruled him. Shaken by the thought, she glanced up. He was looking at her with an intensity that shook her even more. He carried such responsibility, bore so much weight on his shoulders. But now those things didn’t touch him. Instead, his full attention was focused on her. Events beyond our control have brought us together, his eyes seemed to be saying. We are united, in ways neither of us could have guessed. Giving herself up entirely to the moment, she repeatedly worked him in and out. No matter that she’d never so much as imagined doing this. The moment had come. She forgot her stretched muscles and tasted, felt. Using her own moisture, she lubricated his hard, hot length so his cock glided over her tongue, inner cheeks, teeth, touched her throat. He no longer gripped her hair. Instead, his now gentle hands roamed her neck, cheeks, shoulders and upper arms.

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His fingers danced over her, claiming and heating. Touching what cried out to be touched. Sometimes he was gentle. Other times his probing fingers found new nerves and ignited them. Despite the rawhide strips pressing against and on her breasts, they ached for his caress, but because her head remained bowed over him, he couldn’t easily reach her there. Neither did he claim her core. And yet something did. Something that burned and heated, pulsed and ached. Cried and waited. Sensing his growing need for release, she increased her tempo. She couldn’t possibly want to do something for him, could she? And yet she was. Or was this for herself? Not caring, she caressed his length with her mouth and tongue. When she’d begun, he’d stood tense and motionless, undoubtedly so he could monitor her willingness and ability to obey. But his self-control was slipping away. She loved the sense of power that came from knowing what she was capable of—and yet her reaction went beyond that. She remembered the nightmare that had assaulted him. He could have ordered his fellow warriors to slaughter her people, but he hadn’t. And he’d left her clan with enough food that they wouldn’t starve. Complex. Too complex. Movement became everything. Sweat streamed off her. Her muscles grew tired and she felt dizzy, but she kept up the now frantic pace. His pelvis contracted and relaxed repeatedly. His cock found new depths to her throat. She no longer knew where he ended and she began, couldn’t think about separating herself from him. Wanted only to fuck him in this new and incredible way. To be closer to a man than she’d ever been. To lose herself in her body’s urgent heat. His tension grew, grew, expanded. She climbed her own mountain. She dimly comprehended that her pelvis’s movement all but equaled his and was beyond caring what her quick, lonely thrusts told him. They were racing together, reaching something she’d never comprehended. He was guiding her to something life-changing. Touching her body in new, wonderful and frightening ways. She hated not being able to use her arms. She relished the sound of his hard and urgent grunts. Most of all she loved what felt like lightning sparks in her cunt and the need, the incredible need to have that continue. To have sparks turn into flames. He was coming, pushing, driving. She clamped her jaw and lips over him and held him fast. Made him work. He surged toward her, fists again locked in her hair and immobilizing her head. His cock spasmed, shook, released. She felt the heat of his cum and tasted it on her tongue and at the base of her throat. Thighs straining, she arched toward him. Her breathing wheezed. Her buttocks clenched. Gasping, he jerked free and gifted the ground with the rest of his seed. Again left her on the brink.

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Chapter Eight Durc looked down at the bound woman slumped at his feet. Her body twitched and her breathing was so rapid it shocked him. By the way she repeatedly pressed her thighs together, he knew she hadn’t found release. One thing he’d learned as a Kebo warrior was that when it came to sex, women were no different from men. Women, too, housed energy between their legs, energy that built and built like spring-swollen creeks. If it wasn’t relieved, a creek became a raging river—which she was approaching. In contrast, he felt as if he’d spent the night fucking a highly trained slave-whore. He couldn’t say when he’d receive another message from his cock or how long it would be before he even cared about having sex. His satisfaction in contrast to her obvious frustration should have made him feel superior, but it didn’t. She was responsible for his contentment. Yes, he’d used ropes to force her to minister to him, but she’d found a way to tap into him and now knew how to ease the raging beast he’d been before climaxing. He’d be a fool not to know she desperately wanted the same thing—at his hands. But why him? Bit by bit, awareness of his world returned. He felt the day’s promise of heat. There wasn’t enough wind to counter it. He hadn’t brought along water and would soon have to return to the others. Good. Staying here, with her, wasn’t wise. Maybe dangerous. Movement a short distance away snagged his attention. He’d reached for the knife he’d left next to his loincloth, then stopped. Eagle stood nearby. Disbelieving, he stared. The powerful bird was close enough that he clearly saw each deadly talon. He’d prayed over a dead eagle before taking a few feathers, but that hadn’t prepared him for the impact of a live one so close. “Get up,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the predator. Slow and hesitant, Tasia sat up. Instead of standing, she remained with her legs tucked under her, her helpless upper body leaning to the side as if she lacked the strength to support it. He didn’t need to tell her to look at Eagle. The bird’s wings were folded against its solid body which would have made it look less fierce if not for the killing beak. Eagle returned his stare, sucking Durc into his spirit’s center. He didn’t know whether to feel blessed or in danger. Eagle’s spirit could protect a worthy warrior from harm, but if that warrior displeased His spirit, punishment was swift and sometimes deadly.

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See me, spirit. Understand that I live my life to honor you. I need your guidance. My people need you. Without water we will die. On my own I cannot find enough. Only you—please, look into my heart and find me worthy. See that this woman you have blessed is becoming mine. My strength and courage rules her. Surely you will acknowledge my superiority, surely. “He watched,” Tasia whispered. “He saw.” Saw me fucking your mouth. Knew I had spilled myself in you. Eagle lifted His head, then cocked it to the side as if listening, perhaps to the wind, perhaps a message from Sun God. Eagle’s small eyes glowed red like fire. The talons dug into the ground. Foolish human. Do not think with your cock. Suddenly afraid that Eagle intended to punish him, Durc nevertheless stood his ground. Perhaps Eagle was equally angry at Tasia for surrendering her body to him. If Eagle wanted her to devote her life to Him instead of a man— Speak to me, please. Tell me what you want from me. From us. With a chilling shriek, Eagle spread His wings and rose into the air. The spirit-bird continued screaming until He disappeared. Durc’s mouth dried. All moisture had been sucked from his flesh. His world blurred and he suddenly saw Kebo women and children huddled around empty water bladders. He shuddered as his fellow warriors stared accusingly at him. You have not done enough, their eyes said. Only the spirits can save us. Touch their souls. Show them your strength, your worthiness. Become one with them. How? By becoming one with the woman Eagle blessed with his presence.

***** Tasia barely remembered the return to where the Kebo were staying. Durc had said nothing, but she had no doubt he was thinking about the eagle’s appearance and actions. Both of them had taken Eagle as their spirit. Eagle could have presented Himself to one or the other of them, or both. In acceptance or in anger? If only she could think. If only her mind hadn’t remained in the cocoon Durc had created, she could concentrate on her spirit’s visit. One thing she did know. The Kebo warrior was determined to increase her dependence on him, and not just in terms of relying on him for water, food and shelter. He was teaching her so much about her body. She couldn’t deny the unmistakable lesson of his ability to control and dictate her. She’d heard women talk about what they called thunder and lightning when they fucked. Curiosity about the thunder and lightning was, in many ways, why she’d been willing, even eager to surrender her virginity to Sook. But although he’d been gentle that first time and said he was pleased with her, there’d been no thunder and lightning for her, not even drops of rain.

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In contrast, this fierce man had shown her glimpses of a violent and exciting storm. She’d heard thunder and seen the first lightning flashes. Then before the storm could strike, he’d pulled her back. The promise, the threat and anticipation clung to her during the slow and silent walk back. Although resentment over what he’d experienced and she’d been denied darkened her thoughts, she wondered if she truly wanted her freedom back after all. Maybe she’d no longer try to escape, at least not until she’d fully experienced the storm. And then what? Maybe he’d release her and order her to return to her people—to Sook’s bed. No, please! Not that. To her disappointment and relief, Durc turned her over to the slave-whores before leaving camp with two other warriors. From what little he’d told her, she understood that someone had spotted an elk track. He’d freed her breasts but left a rope around her neck. Perhaps Cho resented being charged with the responsibility because she tied her to a bush a short distance from where she and the other slave-whores were sitting. They spoke in Kebo. Feeling isolated, Tasia sat cross-legged on the prickly ground and drew up memories of her life before the Kebo had walked into her village. She imagined her mother trying to fill her day by gathering what remained of some small and unusually bitter berries and setting them out in the sun to dry. Opa’s sisters, aunts, and other relatives would remain with her, assuring her that her daughter was being treated well and with kindness and would eventually be released. But Tasia understood her mother’s heart. No matter how hard she tried, fear would sometimes overwhelm her. The Kebo were all too well known for their violent natures. Of course Opa would imagine her daughter being raped, starved, perhaps tortured by savages. None of those things are happening. I am well cared for. Let your heart find peace, please. Sharp laughter brought her back. Still laughing, Cho stood and walked over. After untying her, she dragged Tasia to the middle of the slave-whores. “Kneel,” Cho ordered. “Tell us,” Cho continued after she’d done as she was ordered. “Did he take you from in front or behind?” “What?” “When Durc fucked you, did he place you on your hands and knees with your ass presented to him, or were you on your back, legs spread?” “He—we did not fuck.” The whores’ expressions left no doubt that they believed she was lying. “The warliege’s cock is huge, the largest I have ever had in me,” Cho said. “He uses it well.” “And frequently,” someone else added, which caused the women to laugh and rub themselves between their legs.

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“He desires his captive,” Cho continued. She scooted close and ran a hand over Tasia’s cunt. Maybe because the whores were so casual and open about sexual matters, Tasia felt little embarrassment. And maybe being naked and hungry for something that had nothing to do with food fed her reaction. “The way he looks at you, I know he wants you to spread your legs.” Cho knew Durc that well? To her surprise she realized she resented the intimate relationship between Durc and the women who existed to service Kebo warriors— women who loved their lives. “What did he command you to spread? Not your ass, because unlike some Kebo warriors, he does not take pleasure in the act. Your mouth. He fucked you there, did he not?” Tasia glared. “Ah, the captive does not want us to know what happened. Remember this, captive. We have all stood where you stand now. We have all been on this journey.” Cho clamped her fingers over Tasia’s jaw. “Did you like the taste of him?” Fighting the urge to pull Cho’s hands off her, she returned the slave-whore’s stare. “Yes.” “Ah!” Cho released her jaw. “How long before he came? Could you swallow all of his seed?” “Yes.” These women didn’t need to know what had really happened. “Ah. Have you ever done that before?” “No.” Cho said something in Kebo to the others, and they all laughed. “Lean back, captive. Place your hands behind you and spread your legs.” Tasia’s cheeks burned. If she could have, she would have jumped to her feet and run. But the neck rope was within Cho’s easy reach. Determined to be seen as more than a helpless and hapless captive, Tasia straightened her spine and did as she’d been commanded. She watched as Cho positioned herself between her legs and willed herself not to flinch as Cho walked her fingers up the inside of her legs. “Does this tickle?” Cho asked. “Yes.” “At least she is not dead there.” The others laughed and scooted closer so they could watch. Cho continued her slow and deliberate march, fingers trailing over the join between leg and crotch. Gritting her teeth, Tasia concentrated on keeping her breathing regular. Cho’s fingers stilled but remained in place. “Good control. Tell us. You find this pleasurable?” “Yes.”

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Cho flicked her clit. Tasia jumped and tried to draw her legs together, but Cho wouldn’t let her. “Has a woman ever touched you here?” Cho asked. “No. Of course not.” “Do not sound shocked, captive. When the men are away, the women play.” Everyone laughed. Cho teased the same spot. Shaken and yet intrigued, Tasia tried to study the other woman’s hands, but she was leaning back too far. “Relax,” Cho ordered. “Enjoy. And if you are not ready to enjoy, submit like a good little slave. I have work to do.” Cho’s fingers reminded Tasia of feathers, feathers capable of gripping and pulling. No longer able to regulate her breathing, she stared at the sky and concentrated on trying to keep her buttocks on the ground. She hated turning her body over to a stranger this way. At the same time, she lived for each caress, every tug. Fingers spread her, laid her open, rested at the entrance to her core. “Wet,” Cho announced. “See how swollen and red she has become. Not a virgin’s pussy.” A finger smaller than Durc’s but just as insistent slipped inside her. She tightened her muscles around the invasion. “Ah, the slave knows what to do with a gift. You are not a virgin, are you?” “No.” Something buzzed in her head. “But you are not married.” “No. My—my intended wanted to know what sleeping with me would be like.” “Was he pleased?” “I-I think so.” “Did he ask if he had pleased you?” “No.” Cho snorted. “Of course not. Men care only about themselves. Durc is no different except he has learned that giving pleasure brings him more. And we take his gifts, do we not?” The others muttered agreement. Cho’s finger pressed, stopping only when it had gone as far as it could. Tasia squirmed. She’d never imagined one woman would touch another this way, never known it could feel so wonderful. So needed. “Men are all alike with free women,” Cho announced. “No matter what clan they belong to or how they treat their wives, they will say anything to get a woman to open her legs. That is why warriors want slaves, so they do not need to win their wives’ favor, only order. Before your intended took you, you were a virgin?” Her cheeks felt so hot, as if the sun blazed down on her. “Yes. Of course.” “And did you like fucking him?” Cho dipped a second finger into her wet, loose opening, slipped out, entered again. Promised everything. Gave not enough.

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“Like?” Tasia’s throat burned. Her vision blurred. Hating her weakness, she widened her stance and tilted her pelvis toward the other woman. “Did you want him to fuck you over and over again? His cock moving deep inside you made you come?” “Co-me?” Do not stop! Please, keep your fingers in me! “Scream. Fly apart. Was there a storm?” She couldn’t remember everything she’d felt with Sook but knew she hadn’t screamed. There’d been no lightning or thunder. “No,” she whimpered. “Nothing—like that.” “Then it is good you did not marry him,” someone said. “If a man cannot make a woman yell and laugh, he has no use.” Was that true? Why couldn’t she think? Cho’s hands felt like a bird’s wings, like summer sunlight, like a hard wind. Bombarded by those sensations and more, she made whimpering sounds like a just awakening newborn. How long before the whimpers became screams? Could one woman lead another into a storm? “Durc is the master.” Scooting closer, Cho probed deeper. Tasia wasn’t sure but she thought there were now three fingers in her. She felt fuller than she had with Sook’s cock in her, maybe nearly as stretched as she’d be if Durc ever fucked her. “When he chooses me to fuck with, nothing else matters.” “What about Mitasi? Surely his cock is longer.” “But not as knowing,” Cho maintained. “When Durc is done with me, all I want to do is sleep.” “And have him beside you when you wake up,” another slave-whore observed. Her somber tone caught Tasia’s attention but not enough that she was freed from the energy building on and around her. She couldn’t keep her hips still, and her breathing sounded ragged. Desperate for something she couldn’t name, she clamped her cunt down around the invading fingers. “Ah, the hostage is hungry, insistent.” With her free hand, Cho repeatedly slapped Tasia’s inner thighs. When she’d obediently spread herself, Cho shoved her fingers in deep and hard and kept them there. Three. Yes, three. “This is not the response of a whore who has recently been satisfied. Tell us, hostage. Did he leave you wanting?” Wanting? Hungry? “Yes. Yes.” “But he climaxed, did he not?” “Yes!” She briefly managed to force her muscles to relax, then they again closed around Cho’s fingers. She began to fall back and struggled to remain upright. “How?” Cho demanded. “What did he have you do?” “I told you. I-I took him in my mouth.” “Did it disgust you?”

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“No.” “You loved it?” “I-I could not think.” Loud laughter cut into her concentration. Cho pushed, and she pushed back. Was that her making those strangled sounds? “How did he taste?” “Like life. Please, oh, please.” “Careful,” someone said from the nothing world the others had retreated into. “You know how Durc wants her. Hungry.” “I only fuel her hunger. It is so easy to do.” Tasia didn’t care. She felt no embarrassment over being nude or how completely she was exposing herself. Nothing mattered except finding the end to this horrible and inescapable tension. Panting, she fell back and let the ground support her. She kept her muscles clamped around Cho. Bending her knees and splaying her legs, she let her body speak for her. Help me. Help me. She heard laughter but didn’t believe Cho was among those ridiculing her. Perhaps the slave-whore charged with her care had taken pity on her and would give her what she needed most in life. And perhaps Cho shared some of what she felt. Her breasts still sported rope marks. She traced them with her fingers, not in an attempt to hide the indentations, but to help her remember the strange yet wonderful sensation of being bound that way. As Durc had done, she pinched her nipples and massaged the full, warm flesh. She couldn’t keep her pelvis from moving, not that Cho seemed to mind. “Please, please,” she chanted even though she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. So close, so close to…what? “Are you flying?” Cho demanded. Her fingers advanced and retreated in a frenzy. “Has the lightning begun?” “I do not—yes. Yes!” “No, captive, no!” Cho abruptly pulled out and pressed down on Tasia’s belly with both hands, using so much force that Tasia cried out. “Only Durc gives you release. And only when he wants to.” “I hate him!”

***** Head down so he could concentrate on the ground, Durc walked flanked by the two hunters he’d chosen to accompany him. He’d first gone hunting with his uncles when he’d seen just five winters, but even then he’d known that success depended on focusing on every sign an animal left. If the ground had been damp, the elk prints

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would have been easy to follow, but summer had turned the earth into stone, forcing them to intently study it. Still, despite their slow progress, he felt no sense of urgency. If they came across the elk today, they would see their easy success as proof of the gods’ gift. If not, they would wait until morning and not question that the gods had decided to make the Kebo work for their gift. And if their arrows and spears failed to bring down the game, he’d know the gods were punishing them. Maybe he alone was responsible. Maybe Eagle spirit disapproved of the way he’d handled the captive. But he was Kebo. His people had always ruled by force. They knew no other way. He and the others hadn’t been on the far side of this low mountain since a wildfire had destroyed the vegetation many seasons ago, but a lifetime spent roaming the land had taught them to embrace the new while taking with them the wisdom of what was familiar. Because most of the old trees and bushes were gone, plants he’d never seen here might have taken root and a wolf pack, cougars, or bears that had never laid eyes on humans could have moved in. He accepted the possibility of unknown dangers because he always had. And because his father’s fury had taught him caution and control. Taught him to trust nothing. I did not mourn your death. Did you see me standing over your body as I wondered if anyone sensed my relief? Did you understand why your wife felt as if she had been set free? Did you find the peace in the spirit world that escaped you all your life? Maybe the spirits refused to allow you to join the ancestors and forced you to go to the underground with the other unwanted. If you are there, what is it like? “My mouth waters,” Tupi said, freeing him from the thoughts and questions he’d never have answers to. “I have not tasted elk for so long. If only we had some herbs to cook with the meat.” “And onions,” Sajag added. “Onions and fat mushrooms. I pray it rains this winter so there will be many, many mushrooms in the spring, enough so the woman can dry more than all of them can carry.” “You think too much with your belly,” Durc chided although his own stomach rumbled at the thought of such richness. “First we must find and kill.” “We will.” Despite his strong words, Tupi didn’t sound convinced. It had been impossible to determine how old the tracks were, and they hadn’t come across any droppings. Although the tracks were large, he couldn’t tell whether the elk was a tender cow or a tough and aggressive bull. “My arrow will find its throat and it will bleed out before it can run.” “Not like the one you hunted before your manhood ceremony?” Sajag teased. He was referring to Tupi’s first solo hunt and the near-fatal attack by a female elk determined to protect her calf. If Tupi hadn’t been young and healthy, he would have died before he could drag himself back to the others.

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Durc didn’t know of a Kebo warrior who didn’t carry scars either from hunting or fighting, or both. He accepted and was even proud of the marks left by an enemy arrow that had pierced his side and the scars on both wrists from when he’d unwisely come too close to a cornered raccoon. What was harder to accept were the old burns on his back and the indentation on his skull inflicted by the man responsible for his being alive. Durc shook his head, angry because he’d again allowed thoughts of his father to invade. Hadn’t he learned how to put those nightmares in quiet, seldom-used parts of his mind? Hadn’t he long ago stopped asking himself why his father had been filled with such anger and violence toward his only son? Hadn’t he accepted the shaman’s belief that fury and the sometimes screaming headaches his father had suffered with for countless seasons came from the same dark source? Are you at peace now? Free from the pain I never understood? “What was she like?” Tupi punched his shoulder. “Did she fight?” Durc had been waiting for his fellow warrior to ask about the time he’d spent with Tasia, but he hadn’t. “She tried to run away.” “But you chased her down. Do you think she will try again?” “I do not know.” “Was she a virgin?” “No.” “A pity. It would have been good to have a virgin.” Virgins were considered pure and thus capable of healing a sick or injured warrior. A Kebo virgin was valuable and thus worthy of a considerable bride price, something her parents used to their advantage. But he hadn’t captured Tasia so he could make her his wife so her used status didn’t matter. He had other needs for her, needs he barely comprehended. “Did she scream for you?” Tupi pressed. “Perhaps now that she has had your cock in her, she wants to stay.” “She took me in the mouth.” “Why?” “Because I want her cunt to remain hungry.” Tupi had been studying the ground as they talked. Now he stopped and faced his war-liege. “She will hate you for that.” “A hungry woman has great strength.” Tupi nodded, but it was clear he didn’t understand. Fortunately, no Kebo man ever questioned another’s relationship with a female. As Durc turned his attention back to spotting the all but invisible prints, he did his own questioning. Much as he wanted to believe that Tasia’s sexual frustration had spoken to Eagle and that Eagle understood his power over his captive, he wasn’t sure his decision to

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treat her the way he had had been wise. If Eagle was angry about the way he’d handled the woman Eagle had blessed with His presence, Eagle might order Thunder God to let the drought continue, maybe forever. And He would seek revenge. “If she pleases you, will you keep her? Spend night after night with her.” “Why do you ask?” Tupi stopped and faced him. “I have never before seen you wake up with a woman beside you. You did so this time so your captive would not escape, but what if you did not need to keep ropes on her?” Anger flared, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry at Tupi or himself. In truth, he’d never thought about how he spent his nights. Surely he wasn’t afraid to sleep next to a woman—except sometimes his nightmares were violent, and he couldn’t imagine ever explaining them. She knows about my dreams! She said she did. “You believe I should be like you?” he challenged. “Snoring into the ear of whatever poor slave-whore you forced to satisfy you.” Sajag laughed, then cocked his head to the side. The warning silenced everyone. Using gestures, Sajag made it clear that he’d spotted movement in several dead but stillstanding trees. As the three warriors eased closer, Durc noticed a number of buzzards in them. A dead rodent wouldn’t have attracted this many of the carcass-eating birds. By unspoken agreement, he took the lead. Although buzzards arrived only after the violence was over, the unknown compelled him to remain alert. He didn’t smell death, but as they approached where the birds waited, he heard flies. The three men exchanged wary glances and reached for their weapons. The buzzards continued their silent study of what was below them. Durc’s heart hammered, but he relegated the familiar, erratic beat to the back of his mind. Being alert and cautious kept him alive. As the war-liege, it was his honor and responsibility to lead the way. As a consequence, he was the first to spot the torn, lifeless form. The carcass had once been a half-grown deer. However, its throat had been ripped open, and it had bled out. It had been gutted, not by an experienced hunter but by a creature with savage strength and determination. Great hunks of flesh had been torn out of its belly and much of the head was missing. Any thoughts Durc might have had of being able to salvage any of the flesh died when he took in the deep slashes in the small animal’s flanks. “Bear,” Tupi whispered. “Grizzly.”

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Chapter Nine Tasia had been drifting between anticipation and nervousness since learning that the hunters were returning, but one look at Durc killed those unimportant emotions. Others might be disappointed because the hunters hadn’t returned with an elk, but the somber look in Durc’s eyes held her attention. Cho had left her tethered to a bush near the edge of the camp, but even if she’d been able to join those gathering around the returning hunters, she wouldn’t know what they were discussing since they were speaking in Kebo. The rise and fall of unfamiliar words served as a harsh reminder of how isolated she was. And yet despite occasional waves of homesickness, she was no longer sure she’d return to her people if she could, at least not yet. Durc fascinated her. It wasn’t just his masterful handling of her and her humming need for the release his body could give hers. She wanted to understand his moods. What drove him? What did he dream about and why was becoming one with Eagle so important to him? After a long wait, he separated himself from the others and slowly approached her. It had been dark for a while, but the moon was fat and full. She studied his strong legs and the easy way he carried himself and wondered if he knew how much he resembled a bull elk during rut. “What happened?” she blurted out although he hadn’t given her permission to speak. “It was more than an unsuccessful hunt, was it not?” She expected him to either ignore her or punish her for talking, but he nodded and untied the neck rope. Cho had tied her hands behind her, rendering her helpless. She couldn’t begin to guess what Durc might have in mind for her, or if he’d given her any thought. “Grizzly,” he said softly. She’d once seen a grizzly pelt and had stared in awe at the massive head and deadly claws of what another clan had brought to the Bakista as part of a trade meeting. She’d listened, disbelieving, as the men who’d killed the grizzly told their audience about the fierce battle between bear and a pack of wolves that had left the grizzly bleeding and thus vulnerable—and the three dead wolves. The wolves wouldn’t have attacked if deep snow hadn’t robbed them of their usual prey. No one knew what had wakened the grizzly from hibernation. After freeing her hands, he picked up a water bladder and a small amount of dried venison and his weapons and led her into the dark. They walked in silence for a long time, then, still walking, he told her what he and the others had found in the mountains. She mentally retraced the steps with him. 62

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If it hadn’t been for his tone, she might have thought he was exaggerating about the violence done to the young deer. The grizzly had obviously continued to savage the deer after it was dead. “Is that the way of a grizzly?” Trying to comprehend Durc’s tension was more important than wondering what he intended to do to her now that they were so far from the others. “They are filled with hate?” “You do not know about grizzly ways? No, of course not,” he answered his own question. “The Bakista have little need to hunt and fight.” He sounded almost envious. “A grizzly fears nothing. Even wolves and cougars give way to a full-grown, healthy grizzly. They have no need to hate because it is so easy for them to take what they want.” “Then you have never before seen what you did? Are you certain that is what killed the deer?” “We saw the tracks. And I know what bear wounds look like.” “What about the elk you were following?” she belatedly thought to ask. “Did you find it?” “Tracks but no elk, and I did not want to risk my warriors’ lives hunting an elk, not if the smell of fresh blood brought the grizzly to us.” She’d never thought that much about the decisions hunters had to make. “Will the grizzly kill the elk? They’d stopped walking and were standing face to face in the night, naked captive and weary hunter speaking as equals. That continued as he explained that an adult elk had nothing to fear from a grizzly. Because the deer had been much smaller and probably brought down while it was feeding, the kill had been easy for the grizzly. Still, Durc explained, only a lack of smaller game had compelled the bear to do what it had— either that or something had turned it into a deliberate killer. Finally, she thought. Finally we have come to why I feel your tension. “Is that possible?” she asked. “I once watched a lone wolf attack a pack of its own kind. The pack killed it but did not eat it. After they had left, I approached the dead one. Its head was swollen to nearly twice the size of other wolves. My father…” “What about your father?” she whispered after a lengthy silence. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer, and she wondered if he would ever tell her what he was thinking. Was it possible that his nightmare last night had something to do with his father? “You believe the grizzly is sick?” “Perhaps.” Sudden cold fingers touched her chest. “Do you fear it?” “I fear nothing,” he spoke harshly. “I know what I must do, that my clan’s safety and prosperity comes before my life. My wishes. My heart. And if others are in danger, 63

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I will put them before me. No matter what they need to live, as long as I am alive, I will do what I must to give them that.” She stared up at him. As recently as yesterday she wouldn’t have imagined their having this conversation, but so much had changed between them—and there would be more changes. To her surprise she felt protective toward this man who was willing to sacrifice his life in order to protect and provide for others. As with the possible danger in a hunt, this was something she’d never thought of before. For him, it was a way of life. “Why must it be you? Why are you war-liege?” He closed his hands over her upper arms, but although she felt the touch in her belly, she refused to allow it to distract her. Night insulated them from the world, even from a grizzly that might have been invaded by evil spirits. “I am honored.” And yet you sometimes bend under the weight of that honor, that responsibility. “Would you rather you had not been given the honor?” She could have been wrong, but she thought she’d detected yes in his expression and the quick way his fingers clenched. How strange that she’d never before considered the emotions of men who went to war or lived in danger of attack. Her life had been so easy—until now. “My liege-lord, a man I would die for, selected me. I trust his wisdom. I accept it.” She wanted to question him further. However, she sensed she’d reached the limit of what he was willing to share with her, at least for now. “I am glad you and the others did not stay where the grizzly was.” With his hands still on her, she couldn’t be anything except honest, at least about this. “Let the bear have the deer, and the elk if he chooses. You will find other game.” “Not here. Animals go where there is food and water. And a hunter must travel with them.” How simple his world was, simple and yet unbelievably complex. She wanted to throw ropes of her own around him and take him with her back to her people. Once he was among them, Bakista men would show him peaceful ways. He’d learn to create instead of destroy. And he’d see her as a woman, not just a way to reach Eagle. “I am weary.” His breath heated the top of her head. “And I have much to think about.” Although she should have waited to see what he wanted her to do, she sank to her knees before him. It would be so easy to reach his cock, and she now knew how to please him with her mouth. He might be interested only in sleeping, but her body hummed and sang and wept. She needed him. Needed to fuck. “There is no need to tie me. I will not leave.” He turned in a slow circle, his head held high like an animal testing the air. “Why should I believe you?” 64

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What had she just said? Surely she wasn’t ready to turn herself over to this savage man. He ran his hand over the back of her neck and pulled her toward his legs. “Do not try. Until I have what I need from you, I cannot let you go.”

***** Despite what he’d told her, Durc wasn’t sure he could fall asleep. Not only did he have to live with the real possibility that the strange-acting bear might be stalking the humans who’d dared to touch its kill, Tasia’s presence was impossible to ignore. He should have remained near the others instead of giving in to the need to be alone with her. Cho had told him that she’d made sure his captive remained sexually frustrated. Keeping her in that condition was now his responsibility or it would have been if he wasn’t once again questioning his decision. Had he been right in believing that forcing a bond between himself and her would allow him to reach Eagle, to beg Eagle to save his people? Eagle would see and understand his domination of the weak, gentle woman and honor the warrior who’d spilled his seed in her and caused her to beg. Or was Eagle angry at him, angry enough to have sent a grizzly as a warning? His head pounded with questions without answer, and as his body gave up the battle to remain attuned to his world, he wondered if his father’s head had often felt like this. Sometimes his father had pressed his hands against the sides of his head and rocked back and forth, moaning. He’d never spoken about what was happening to him. Instead, until Durc had become big enough to stop him, he’d beaten his only son. Now his father beat no one. During his last season of life, he’d sat unmoving for days on end, blind and deaf, holding his head and groaning. The shaman had tried many times to rid him of the evil spirits that surely were in him, but their hold had been too strong for any prayer or chant or song. And he’d been left alone. He’d died one cold, moonless night. Durc had found him, touched his father for the first time since he’d been a small child, wished him peace. Tasia lay beside him, her breathing telling him that she was still awake. He should have gagged her. That way she wouldn’t have asked her hard and probing questions. Instead, he’d let her talk. He’d answered and she’d learned a great deal about him. It wouldn’t happen again. In the morning he’d remind her that she was his prisoner, his hostage, his slave if he wanted her to become that. Unless it was too late.

***** Even before she was fully awake, Tasia knew Durc was caught in another nightmare. Careful not to startle him, she turned onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so she could watch and listen and learn. 65

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He shifted restlessly, relaxed. Then his arm shot out, barely missing her. She thought about grabbing his wrist but didn’t want to startle him. Besides, he might hurt her. He continued to jerk and thrash. Harsh grunting sounds came from someplace deep inside him, a wounded place. His arms flailed, and he kicked at something, or someone. “No, no, no,” he chanted. He drew his body into a ball, arms over his head as if trying to protect himself. Despite his size, she imagined him as a child—small and helpless. “No, no, no.” “Durc. Durc.” You are safe, safe. He muttered something, paused, then resumed his disjointed movements. Twice more he folded in upon himself, then straightened. His hands became fists. He punched and rolled toward her. She scooted away. “Durc. Wake up.” Hissing, he clenched his fists in front of his throat. She thought he opened his eyes. “Durc. It is all right. You are all right.” He surged to a sitting position. She’d never seen anyone move that fast. She tried to scramble to her knees, then relaxed when she sensed his recognition of his world along with wariness. His rapid breathing spoke deeply to her, prompting her to take his hand and rest it between her breasts. He started to jerk free, then relaxed. “You were having a dream.” She deliberately didn’t call it a nightmare. “I was afraid you might hurt yourself.” Or me. “Was it about the grizzly?” She didn’t think so. “What did I say?” “Nothing I understood. Sounds without meaning. A few words in Kebo.” Because he still hadn’t removed his hand from where she’d placed it, she shared in his growing relaxation. Despite his hard warrior body, she sensed vulnerability, but he didn’t have to worry. She’d protect him from whatever stalked him tonight. “Perhaps you were battling an enemy? Warriors from another clan?” “Not a clan. My past.” Your past. “Were you a child when the battle began? The way you acted—” He reared back, body tense. “I believed this was behind me. I wanted it done.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I will always live with what finds me while I sleep.” “You know the dreams well then?” He nodded, the movement slow but steady. Strange how he could strike her as both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. Desperate to understand the contrasts, she searched her mind for ways to keep him where he was, to take advantage of his honesty. “I do not know if I have ever had a nightmare as a woman. As a child—a child has little control over or understanding of her world and things can be frightening. A child is small, the world large.”

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His grunt said he agreed. She hadn’t placed his hand where she had because she’d wanted to be touched in a sexual way, but as his rough fingers stroked her breasts, she sighed and slid closer. The night insulated them from the world. There was only the two of them. I belong here, Eagle. I do not know why, but I want to. Please, be with me. Make me wise. “The Bakista train dogs to hunt and defend. Other tribes value them,” she told him. “I love caring for puppies and helping a bitch give birth, but when I was a little girl, a newly captured dog attacked me. I scrambled into a tree, but I was terrified I would fall. I cried and screamed and looked down into his eyes and mouth until my father threw a rope around the dog and dragged him away. Although I convinced my father to free it instead of killing it, for a long time after, I dreamed that the dog had chased me down and wanted to eat me. My father held me at night and sang to me until I fell back asleep.” “My father never held me.” His whispered words trailed over and then into her. “Or if he did, I do not remember.” “He, ah, he died when you were little?” “No. It was not his way to show tenderness or love. Maybe he did not feel those things.” The time might come Durc regretted his honesty. Taking his gift deep inside her, she fought the need to touch her lips to his. A day ago she could never imagine wanting to show him tenderness or concern, but a great deal had changed between them. “Did he speak of what went on in his heart?” she managed, despite the distraction of strong and knowing fingers on her breast. “He said little to me, perhaps because he saw me as someone he could never be.” On the brink of asking for a further explanation, she decided not to push him. Sometimes a man needed to keep emotions tight and safe within his heart. “I do not know what I would do without my family’s love. My oldest sister has a baby. I helped with his birth. When he falls asleep in my arms, I am complete.” He didn’t respond, but she believed he was working over what she’d said. Again she slid closer. He shifted his attention from one breast to another, fingers gentler than they’d been before, feathery strokes that seeped deep inside her and sought her heart. Strange how quickly she’d become accustomed to her nudity, how much she needed his hands on her naked body. Tonight I give myself to you. Do what you want with it, use it as you need. Touch me as a man touches a woman. “Do you love the man you were going to marry?” he asked. Were? Was he telling her she’d never see Sook again? “No.” “Do you think about him?” Not when you are with me. “Only a little.” “Good. Your thoughts should be on Eagle. And me.” 67

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How could it be otherwise? Her world now began and ended with Durc. That might change when he was done with her—if he ever was—but she couldn’t think about that. Earlier he’d made it clear that he didn’t intend for them to have sex in the only way she understood, that he wanted to keep her frustrated and needy for reasons she didn’t understand. He might insist on again relieving his tension without granting her the same gift and she probably shouldn’t be placing her emotions, her nerves at risk. But she wanted his cock deep and full and strong inside her. She needed it as she’d never needed anything else. Surrendering to her body’s hunger and the newfound and maybe fleeting openness between them, she stretched out so they touched from shoulders to knees. She draped her arm over his chest and concentrated on the measured rising and falling as he breathed. “You strengthen me,” he whispered. “And weaken me.” “I feel only weak around you.” Her honesty earned her a deep chuckle. He wrapped his arms around her so her breasts pressed against his chest. She’d always believed a woman’s breasts were created to nourish a baby, but Durc was teaching her new and unexpected things about her body. She now understood why men sometimes stared at women, and why women sometimes stared back. She’d entered a new world. This man who’d taken command of her and who she should hate and fear was responsible. Not giving herself time to think, she lifted her head so she could brush her tongue over his nipples. Although the nubs were already hard, she felt them grow even tighter. So she could do to him what he so easily did to her. “I did not think I would ever let you touch me like that,” he said. “Have you cast a spell over me?” “If there is a spell, you are responsible.” The instant the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Was there nothing she could keep from him, nothing he wouldn’t know about her? “Not a spell, not magic. This.” He slid his hand between her legs. Be strong. Do not give in so easily. But this is what I need. He rested his fingers against her, the touch gentle, yet knowing. She longed to trap him there but couldn’t force her legs together. He began stroking already damp tissue. If she spoke, she risked begging him to fuck her, so remained silent. She had no such control over her newly tender breasts or the growing heat deep inside her. He either felt her heat or already knew everything he needed to about a woman’s body because he lifted her away as if she weighed no more than a child, rolled her onto her back, and positioned himself over her.

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His size terrified her, but she fought her reaction. If he hadn’t hurt her by now, he wouldn’t. Despite the reminder, there was no ignoring the fact that he could. She didn’t want him to have this much power over her, and yet she did. Bombarded by emotions, she paid scant attention to what he was doing. Leaving her sex untouched, he lowered his head and took a breast into his mouth. His teeth raked sensitive flesh. A hot, tingling sensation raced through her. She arched her back. Whether she was trying to offer more of her breast to him or something else she couldn’t say. She dug her fingers into his back. Even when her nails bit into his flesh, she couldn’t relax her grip. Neither could she breathe. He sucked deeply, taking more and more of her into him. Her cunt muscles clenched but found nothing to cling to or feed off. Beyond restraint, she spread her legs so she could wrap them around him. Maybe she’d keep him like this for the rest of the night. For the rest of their lives. Yes. She’d take him into a cave, seal off the opening, stalk toward him, smile as he backed away. The cave wall would stop him. She’d give him time to explore the wall with hands and eyes, then approach, one slow, confident step at a time. He’d press himself against stone, body flattened, watching, waiting. She’d hold up a knife and let him study it before slashing the tie securing his loincloth. The material would fall away, revealing his huge, dark, ready cock. Still smiling, she’d close her hands around it and pull him toward her. Her fantasy of having any control melted when he switched from one breast to the other. The newly freed one was wet, and although the night air was warm, she shivered. He lapped and tugged, teeth, tongue and lips exploring skin that felt as if it was on fire. Her head thrashed from side to side. Although she was making herself dizzy, she could no more stop than she could slide out from under him. His warrior’s weight pinned her to the ground.

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Chapter Ten An owl hooted. The lonely cry of a distant wolf floated in to bury itself inside her. Tasia imagined the wolf and its companions slipping closer. Perhaps they could smell the humans. Did human sex-scent excite them? Compel them to attack? After an uneasy moment, she reminded herself that Durc knew everything about animals and danger. He’d protect her. Just as he’d captured her and turned her life around. A wave of fear that had nothing to do with wolves snaked through her. This one was harder to silence and took longer. By the time she again heard her body’s message, he’d released her breast and was running his tongue over her ribs. He’d shifted so he no longer had to support his weight with his hands. Resting himself on an elbow, he pressed the other against her belly and held her in place. His fingers explored her skin and the tissue on fire beneath. He might only be touching her navel and stomach and pubic hair, but she felt the contact all the way to her backbone. The base of her spine took the brunt of the impact. The wonderful sensation spread out and down and consumed her woman-place. Because of him she now knew what it felt like to melt. Because of him, she understood the texture of surrender. A small, frightened part of her struggled to remain removed and untouched. The rest of her dived fully, rapidly into the hot, dark pit he’d created. Her pelvis lifted toward him and begged to be filled. Her hands remained on his back, fingers digging into him and telling him everything. The hand on her belly began moving, heading lower and deeper, reaching wet heat and flesh already lightning-touched. She felt his fingers on the soft flesh at her opening and lost herself in sensation. She was becoming nothing, becoming everything for him. His fingers had been inside her before. She knew what they were capable of and what they held back. No more. Not this time. His invasion became even more intimate and thorough, knuckles rubbing here, there, everywhere, a finger snaking over the sensitive nub that jumped and sobbed and demanded. He filled her because he could. His finger's touched ignited flesh because he knew her so well. And as before, he’d leave her at the edge of a cliff. “No!” She struggled to free herself. Although he easily kept her pinned, he withdrew his finger. “No!”

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He tried to silence her by running his juice-soaked finger over her lips. At least she thought that was his intention. Unable to stop herself, she licked his finger and tried to suck it into her mouth. He ran a nail over the inside of her lip, jolting her. Tasting herself, she jerked her head to the side and clamped her teeth together. He held his hand under her nose and forced her to smell herself. She shook her head and tried to bite him. He easily evaded her. “You cannot leave me hungry the way you did before! I will not let you!” Her words sounded jumbled and hysterical. “When you spilled yourself, you were content. First you grunted and your body became like stone. You shook and strained and sweated and came. But then tension flowed out of you while I remained tied into knots. I want what you experienced. I must have it!” But if I allow you to come, I will have no power over you. We will be equals. You will understand your strength. But was that wrong? Durc questioned as Tasia struggled to buck him off her. Maybe instead of possessing and controlling her body, he needed them to be equals. Maybe that was what Eagle was waiting for. How had his need to keep his people alive become so complicated? He grabbed a small wrist and forced her arm away from her body. “If I grant your wish, will you speak to Eagle for my people?” “What?” “Eagle was with you the first time I saw you. Call Him to you again.” “I do not command Eagle. He may not hear me.” “He hears your words and maybe your thoughts. That will not change,” he said, although he wasn’t sure. Determined to give weight to his words, he pressed the heel of his hand against her belly. She sighed and again tried to lift herself toward him. “I cannot think. I only know what I need. You.” Had a woman ever said that to him? The slave-whores said whatever they believed a man wanted to hear, but the question of truth or lie had always made him cautious. Hadn’t the child he’d once been begged his father for forgiveness even when he’d done nothing wrong? It didn’t matter. Tasia was asking him for the only thing in life he wanted to give. Fucking a slave-whore had always been a quick and uncomplicated act. After a brief exploration designed to test her receptiveness for his cock—had one ever not been wet?—he’d spread her legs and plunge into her. He sometimes took her in different positions but preferred having the whore on her back or plunder her in the way of wolves because he felt in control that way. For the first time in his life, he tried to place himself inside a woman’s mind. What would bring her the greatest pleasure? A woman’s clit was incredibly sensitive as was a spot inside her near the front. Thinking to give himself access to both places at once, he sat up.

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When she started to do the same, he again pressed on her belly. At the same time, he shifted so he was on his knees with her legs on either side of him. She watched him intently, clearly not trusting, eager. Because he couldn’t tell her she had nothing to fear from him, he remained silent. Her sex-scent told him everything he wanted to know. Almost. Careful to keep his movements slow and deliberate, he scooted closer. At the same time, he lifted her legs so the back of her thighs rested on the front of his. There. So close. Her sex. His knees supported her hips, the position keeping her upper body lower than the rest of her and making it difficult for her to move. She lifted her head and clamped her fingers over his knees but didn’t try to get away. He was used to showing boys how to become hunters and fighters, but he’d never taught a woman about fucking. He’d expected his wife to be a virgin and had imagined introducing that unknown girl or woman to sex. His mind had never taken him down this path, never paired himself with someone who wasn’t a virgin and yet had never experienced fucking’s true gifts. Consideration for her allowed him to put his own needs second, something he’d never done before when it came to sex. He could make tonight last as long as she needed. He would do that. And when their union was over— Unwilling to face that question, he turned his attention to her waiting cunt. Fingering it tested his self-control. He loved its softness which stood in such sharp contrast to the rest of his world. Life existed in this small place. For him fucking had always been a time when he could forget that his world was dangerous, and he was expected to daily risk his life so his people could live. To sometimes seek union with the gods. A woman’s cunt could surround and shelter him and take him someplace warm and safe, a place without concern or danger or responsibilities. Maybe. His fingers told her he considered her safe and innocent as he gently stroked and teased. When she sighed and wiggled closer, he positioned his cock at her entrance. She tossed from side to side, struggling to pull him into her, but he refused to rush or be rushed. She wasn’t a slave-whore, an always willing vessel, something mindless. His captive was part Eagle. As much as possible, he became her, imagining the sensation he was creating. In his imagination his cock became a gentle-as-spring-rain gift to her. Food, water, heat, shelter. The core of his cock was hard and powerful, but the flesh stretched over it was like a newborn’s skin, as soft as her sex’s flesh. Old Kebo men told boys that the gods had made men’s organs like this both to remind warriors of their vulnerability and to give women pleasure. 72

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Tonight he’d pleasure her. With his tip just inside her, he rubbed her inner lips lightly against his cock. A little cum dribbled out of him to mix with her fluids. Her flesh softened, heated, swelled. Her fingers dug into his knees and thighs and sent unmistakable messages about the intensity of her need. Taking his cue from her, he began moving back and forth inside her but was careful not to penetrate deeply. Under his fingertips, her clit became even harder. Her breathing quickened and now sounded labored. He controlled her, but not because he’d circled her body with ropes. “Please,” she chanted. “Please.” “What do you want?” “You. You!” “My cock?” “Yes!” He wanted to laugh. And, to his disbelief, he also felt on the brink of tears. From the moment he’d seen her with Eagle, he’d known he had to have her, but he’d never expected it to be like this. To want this much. In an effort to shake off his unnerving weakness, he ordered himself to strip her of her will. She’d become so wet he was in danger of slipping out of her so pushed in a little further. The thought that he was losing himself in her stole over him. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! He was a warrior, the Kebo war-liege! And a man with a mysterious, maybe mystical woman. His throat flamed. His breathing became as uneven as hers, and his heart pounded. His thoughts narrowed. Everything centered around the union between them and the need, the determination to make the union even more complete. To leave something of himself in her. To drink of her. To find release and relief. Gripping her hips, he pulled her against him and pushed home. Her back arched, and her feet dug into the ground. She kept one hand on him but flung the other over her head. She’d been trying to look at him, but thanks to the moon he saw her close her eyes. Her mouth hung open. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, and her hard nipples stood in sharp contrast to the soft fullness surrounding them. Her belly was nearly nonexistent, her pelvis bones prominent. Although the deep union made it difficult for him to keep his fingers on her, he continued to press against what he could reach of her pussy lips and clit. He used his hold to house himself more fully, to further stimulate her, to hurry her journey. And his. Relying on his powerful thigh muscles, he pushed and retreated, pushed and retreated. With each thrust, the tension in his cock increased, and his ability to control his actions slid further from his grip. He stepped into space, leaped into a place that was both familiar and always new, and unsettling and frightening.

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A woman’s cunt could do this to him. It always had and always would. And yet tonight felt different. More. Everything. Desperate and determined, he relentlessly pummeled her. He should focus on what he was doing to her, what she was feeling, asking himself whether she too was afraid. But his body claimed him. And when he thought he might die from the wanting, relief and release exploded over him. Grunting like some mating animal, he strained, came. He only dimly comprehended that he wasn’t the only one, barely heard her cries, barely felt her muscles spasm. “Help me, help me!” she cried. She wasn’t the one who needed help.

***** Eagle? Eagle, please! Speak to me. Even as her desperate cry resonated in her, Tasia shrank from the sound. Always before she’d respectfully and humbly approached her spirit, careful to thank and praise and present herself as a willing student for Eagle’s wisdom. But the just passed night terrified her. If Durc had been her husband or even her intended, she’d have wrapped herself around him, her heart open and joyful. But this man was the enemy. He’d captured her and manipulated her sexually so he could reach Eagle through her. Take Eagle’s gift from the Bakista and claim it for the Kebo. Instead of standing strong, she’d welcomed Durc into her body. Even now his seed rested in her. And when he woke up, she’d beg him to release even more seed in her, to take her body to that incredible place she now needed as much as everyone needed water—unless she fled. Only half comprehending what she was doing, she rolled away from him. On hands and knees, she studied his sleeping form. He hadn’t bothered to put back on his loincloth. Because he lay on his side facing her, even in the just emerging day, she had a clear view of his cock. She knew what it felt like in her mouth and pussy. It looked no different from other men’s cocks although it might be larger than most. Surely she could dispassionately study it and accept it as she did the other cocks she’d seen all her life. But the others hadn’t made her scream. Hadn’t made her lose her mind. Trembling, she stood and backed one slow, cautious step at a time. For the first time since he’d taken her, she wore no ropes. She was still naked, but clothing didn’t matter. Only finding herself, and Eagle, did.

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Determined not to let doubt and question slow her escape, she retreated until she reached the brush. Even asleep he appeared strong, powerful, all muscle and bone and male heat. Dangerous both to her and Eagle. Eagle, can you find it in your heart to guide me back home? To protect my people from Durc’s wrath? Turning her back on the man who’d changed her world, she ran. The hard ground bruised and cut the bottom of her feet. She occasionally held her breasts to keep them from bouncing too much, but running with her arms at her sides was easier. She hadn’t had anything to drink since before dark, and her throat soon became dry. Her breath rasped. Several times she passed so close to a bush that a branch scraped her. Eagle, where am I going? Are you guiding my journey? Even as she prayed for guidance, she wondered if she was running mindlessly, caring about precious little except getting away from the Kebo war-liege’s strength. A sound that had nothing to do with the morning breeze or birds caught her attention. Afraid Durc was overtaking her, she glanced over her shoulder. She thought she saw a large, dark shadow. Grizzly? The shadow disappeared, or maybe she’d only imagined it. Fighting fear, she concentrated on her footing. She tried to force herself to slow down so she wouldn’t become exhausted, but what if Durc caught up to her? He’d claim her as his rightful property, teach her not to fight him, take out his anger on her. Run, run! Hide. Protect your body, your heart and soul. Protect Eagle. A sound spun her around. Determined to identify the source, she stopped and scanned her surroundings. Nothing. Maybe a shadow. Grizzly? Durc? If a bear was stalking her, should she run back to Durc and place herself under his protection? Why had she fled? A woman should face her world, shouldn’t she? Demand to be recognized as a man’s equal. Agree to join forces with him as they reached out for Eagle and begged their spirit to heed their clans’ desperate need for rain. Explore the incredible heat between them. Her calf cramped. Looking down, she realized she’d been standing on her toes. She lowered herself but couldn’t decide what to do next. She hadn’t been alone since he’d taken her, and needed to gather her thoughts around her, to make a decision. But quick, before he woke up. Too late. Naked except for the ropes slung around his shoulder, Durc emerged from the shadows. He’d surely had to run to catch up with her, but now he stalked her. She couldn’t comprehend his mood, didn’t try to. Sobbing, she spun and fled. Where was he? Shouldn’t she sense his presence, hear him, feel— Something shoved her from behind. She started to fall forward. An arm circled her waist and jerked her upright. She was pulled back and off-balance. Her shoulders

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connected with Durc’s sweaty chest. Before she could think what to do, he clamped an arm around her neck. She tried to pull him off her, but he easily captured her arms behind her. The arm over her throat forced her to arch her back and lean against him. She struggled to breathe. “Foolish woman, foolish! You think you can leave a warrior who never fully surrenders to sleep?” Did he expect her to answer? Afraid that anything she said would only anger him more, she tried to relax. Her position caused her breasts to thrust out, and she had to widen her stance to keep from losing her balance. His grip forced her to stare up at the sky. Their sweat bled together, sealing their bodies. “So fucking and being fucked does not make you docile. You drink of me, allow me to give you pleasure. Then you try to run.” What would he say if she told him she had no explanation for what she’d done? If she admitted he frightened her? “I am a warrior. A fighter. No woman defies me. Understand.”

***** Tasia gnawed on the rope between her teeth. Durc had forced her to open her mouth, then looped rope around her head and tied it in place, silencing her. Before doing that, he’d shoved her to the ground on her buttocks and straddled her. Although she’d fought, he’d easily caught her wrists and tied them together in front of her. Then he’d rolled her onto her side and gagged her. After adding so much rope to her wrists that the end coiled over her thighs, he’d yanked her to her feet. He’d selected a tree with a sturdy branch and thrown the loose rope over it. He’d pulled until her arms were stretched over her head. Another yank had forced her onto her toes. He’d knotted the rope so he no longer had to hold her in place. Now he stood before her and openly, possessively studied her. She might be able to twist so she wasn’t facing him, but what did that small movement matter? Helpless. Unmoving. Silent. “Where is Eagle now, captive?” He placed his hand over her throat and applied just enough pressure to let her know how easily he could kill her. “I was wrong to think Eagle might protect a woman. Eagle sees and understands courage, not a weak and helpless female who tries to run.” He stepped back and stared at her. He held up his fist. “This is what speaks to Eagle and what He speaks to. You are only a curiosity to Him, perhaps game He has been toying with before killing.” No, no! It cannot be. “Now you are mine to do what I want with.”

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Had she thought he wasn’t a savage after all? While they were having sex, she’d trusted him and been grateful for what he’d taught her about her body. But instead of expressing her gratitude in the only way a man like him could understand, she’d fled. Now she’d learn how foolish she’d been. “You are beautiful.” He placed his hands under her breasts and lifted. “A possession worthy of the Kebo war-liege.” Possession! Furious, she shook her head. “Yes.” Backing up again, he walked in a slow circle around her. Despite the added strain in her arms, she turned so she could watch him. “Healthy.” He slapped her buttocks. “Maybe I will give you to the women of my clan so they can make you gather wood. Have you ever gutted a pig? Dug holes in the ground to hold human dung?” The thought of having to do those things made her shudder. He’d circled her once and was starting to again. When she tried to keep pace, the overhead rope twisted and lifted her even more. “So little movement. And none if I so wish.” He slapped her belly, not hard but enough that she felt like a child being disciplined. He waited a moment then pinched the newly reddened skin. Grunting in outrage, she kicked at him. Her leg found only air, but at least she’d made him jump back. “You fight. Good.” He cocked his head to the side. “No, I do not want to have you turned into a beast of burden after all. I have other uses for you. Do you want to know what they are?” Die! Die! “You say nothing. Perhaps your fate does not matter to you, but I do not think it is that. Instead, I believe you cannot comprehend your future. If you could, you would not have done what you tried to do. Lesson time, captive. Lessons the slave-whores learned.” Eagle, please, kill him! To her surprise, Durc walked away. She was afraid he intended to leave her alone like this and wondered how long it would be before she begged him to return—at least she’d try to cry out to him. When she heard his footsteps, she swiveled in that direction. Maybe he was unaware of how he looked as he slowly, confidently approached, but she couldn’t begin to ignore his impact. She’d never so much as imagined that a man would dominate her, and should hate and fear what he’d done to her. But even if she loathed him, he was beautiful, worthy of leading his people into battle and protecting them from danger. He carried himself with a wolf’s easy grace, muscles meshing, strong, commanding. Although his cock wasn’t erect, neither did it dangle uselessly. What would it take for his shaft to swell again? What would she do to receive his gift?

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Too late she noticed the straight branch he was holding. It was nearly as long and thick as her arm, and he’d tied ropes to each end. Holding the branch in one hand, he gripped her right shoulder and forced her to turn until she barely touched the ground. He knelt behind her and looped a strand from the branch around her ankle. He pushed on her inner thighs, ordering her to spread her legs. Sweating and unnerved, she obeyed as best she could. Another rope circled her free ankle. He stood and grabbed her hips, then guided her in the opposite direction from what he’d just compelled her. As she struggled to keep up with the pressure, she realized she couldn’t close her legs. The branch connected to her ankles kept them parted. At least by the time he’d finished turning her, she was able to stand more comfortably. Except that her legs were widely spread, her sex available to him. “I am Durc, Kebo war-liege! You are my captive, my property. How dare you milk my cum and then try to leave with it!” His eyes burned. His features glowed with rage. She saw, not a man but a cougar fiercely defending a recent kill. “I let you into my life, my soul even. Instead of honoring the gift, you want nothing to do with me? You think you can walk out of my world—taking this with you?” He tugged on her necklace. “I was wrong to believe our hearts breathed with the same rhythm. I will not make that mistake again, prisoner.” He hates me. This is why he has done what he has, because he trusted me and now believes I betrayed that trust. Desperate to explain herself, she gnawed on the rope. Her eyes begged him to let her speak, but he was staring at her pussy, not her face. He cupped his hand over her sex and pushed. Still pressing, he rubbed his palm over her, forcing her back up on her toes. “Understand this, slave! Know your helplessness. Learn that fighting me brings punishment.” Grabbing her hair, he forced her head back. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t anticipate. He continued exerting pressure on her sex, trapping it under his hard hand. “What does Eagle see this morning, slave? A woman worthy of His protection and guidance? Does He see you as strong, a seeker of truth, wanting more than the pleasure that comes from this part of you?” Still gripping her hair, he fingered her crotch. He could easily invade her, but although that might be his goal, he didn’t hurry. Instead, he fingered her bud. Under assault, she struggled to lean away from him. He easily followed, continued to touch. Her cunt wept, lubricating her opening and dribbling down her. “Your pussy cries, slave. Cries for me. But you are not worthy of a warrior’s cock. Never again will I come to you as a man comes to a woman. I am not the weak one. You are. Weak. In need of punishment.”

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A quick jerk on her hair robbed her of breath. When he released her, she straightened and noisily sucked in air. He ran a finger deep inside her, coated it with her juices, retreated. He ran his wet finger over her labia, replenished his supply, then spread that over her clit. As he did, she whimpered and jerked as best she could. Her breasts flopped, and the necklace slid over her flesh, the feather teasing her throat. “You belong to me, slave. Know that everything you feel, everything I grant or deny is because I am a warrior, a fighter.” Dropping to his knees, he placed both hands against her inner thighs and pushed, exposing her drenched pussy to the air. He blew his hot breath over her. “So simple. A small, vulnerable opening, soft, swollen tissues.” After closing a thumb and forefinger over her lips, he pulled. I hate, I hate— But she didn’t. Even as she loathed her helplessness, she loved the shivers that rolled through her. “I give my life to my people. Their safety comes before mine, their needs are first.” He burrowed a finger inside her. It moved up and down, so quick she couldn’t stay ahead of the sensations. She was being stolen, turned into nothing. And everything. “I want one thing from you. One. A way to Eagle’s heart and ears so He understands what the Kebo need. I thought you understood and that you would want rain’s abundance for your people as well.” Her imprisoned arms ached. She didn’t dare try to move her legs, and she hated having her mouth forced open. If she concentrated on those things— His finger rode inside her, the cadence picking up. “I take. Command.” Even with lightning and maybe thunder as well charging through her, she felt the new touch. He covered her clit with his thumb and rubbed lightly. The drumbeats in his hands attacked her from all directions, raised her onto her toes, threw back her head, forced out a garbled scream. Dying! Dying. You are killing me! No, not death. Life. Life forced. She heard herself whimper and felt her pelvis strain toward him. She’d caught fire and would burn as long as he commanded her to. Please, Durc! Please, I was fleeing myself, not you.

***** Durc knelt before Tasia as he shook feeling back into his hands. A little while ago they’d cramped and then gone numb. Otherwise, he might still be forcing her to repeatedly climax. He couldn’t say how long he’d held her in space. He thought she’d stop sobbing after a while, but she’d continued to moan and mutter. And her pussy muscles had remained knotted, twitching. Even now she hadn’t completely relaxed.

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Something dug into his knees, and he got to his feet. About to run his arms along her sides, he stepped back and for the first time since he’d recaptured her he looked, truly looked at what he’d done. When he’d realized she’d run away, he’d felt as betrayed as he’d been when, as a boy, he had turned to his father for acceptance and a feeling of worth. No longer a Kebo warrior but a small child facing his father’s reality, he’d charged after this woman who’d touched his heart in ways it had never been. He hadn’t been able to make his father love him the way a father should love a son, but he’d make Tasia pay. And when he was done, he would build a barrier around his heart so she could never again touch him. Now she stood with her legs forced apart, arms reaching for the branch he’d tied her to, sweat streaming off her, drool dripping off the rope in her mouth, cum dribbling down her legs, her cunt blood-red. This wasn’t a woman who’d betrayed. Instead she’d been betrayed. By him.

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Chapter Eleven Tasia gritted her teeth against the pain as feeling returned to her arms. She rolled her shoulders while Durc released her legs, and waited for him to remove her gag. He remained so close that she could feel his heat, but didn’t try to step back. He hadn’t said a word since putting an end to the earthquakes he’d created in her, and she didn’t know what, if anything, to say. If there’d been a creek or lake, she would have washed her sticky body. Had Durc been right? Did her pussy, even now, still house some of his seed? She didn’t understand Kebo ways so was uncertain whether she’d committed a sin by trying to leave with what all men considered precious. Neither did she know whether he hated her. Or what she should do or say. I do not know why I ran. When I thought of what I’d told you, of how we’d shared our bodies, it frightened me. My feelings for you frighten me. He hadn’t bothered with his loincloth before coming after her. As a consequence, neither of them wore anything but their eagle feather necklaces. But except for those things, they were strangers. Strangers who’d shared their bodies and maybe a little of their hearts—but no more. Durc reached out as if to touch her breast, then stopped. His muscles became like knotted rope, and his nostrils flared as he looked all around. She wanted to ask what had caught his attention but sensed that she should remain silent. Smooth as a stalking cougar, he reached for the stick he used on her and motioned for her to move behind him. Wondering if someone from an enemy clan had found them, she did as he ordered. After glancing at her, he turned his attention back to their surroundings. Much as she longed to touch his back to see if it felt as tense as it looked, she knew not to distract him. These warrior muscles would protect them. Whatever unwise man was out there would soon learn how wrong he’d been to challenge the Kebo war leader. Then she heard the sound. “Bear?” she whispered. He nodded. The brush wasn’t that thick, but because the bear’s fur was nearly the same color as the trunks, she heard the harsh chuffs before she spotted the creature. The bear was so large she had no doubt that it was a grizzly. It walked on four legs, massive body rocking from side to side as it approached. Its fur looked dry, the coat matted. Insects

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hovered over its back. She’d been told that bears had poor eyesight but a strong sense of smell. Maybe the scent of her cum had attracted its attention. Could this be the grizzly that had torn the deer apart? Eagle, please, turn it away. Durc has only a stick. Even he cannot kill this beast. The bear appeared to be in no hurry. It even paused to turn over a charred log and briefly searched for insects. However, when it started walking again, it continued toward them. “Listen to me,” Durc whispered. “Because their front legs are short, grizzlies cannot move fast downhill. When you run, run in that direction. And if you can find a tall but slender tree, climb it. Grizzly will know the tree cannot hold its weight.” “What about you?” “I fight.” I fight to protect you because that is what I know to do. Soul-deep understanding of what it truly meant to be war-liege of the Kebo shook her as nothing ever had. While her every instinct screamed at her to flee, Durc would stay and fight. And die at the teeth and fangs of a massive killer. His stick looked like a child’s play weapon. A little while ago she’d thought him the most powerful man she’d ever seen. Now she knew his muscles were nothing. And his courage everything. Do not let him die, my spirit. Please, I beg you. Grizzly, kill me so he can live. The bear charged. No longer a lumbering bug-eater, it all but pounded the ground, legs churning. “Run!” Durc ordered. “Run!” She whirled and raced toward the nearest slope but stopped before she’d taken more than a few steps. Despite her terror of the monster with its deadly teeth and fangs, she couldn’t abandon the man who’d taken her hostage. But what could she do? Durc hadn’t moved. He waited, waited, the sun glinting off his dark flesh. Just before the grizzly reached him, he sidestepped and lunged, propelling the stick toward the beast’s face. The grizzly bellowed and swiped at Durc. For an instant she thought it had missed. Then Durc fell back. He almost instantly regained his feet, now gripping a large, sharp-looking rock. Blood ran from a gash on his shoulder. “No!” she screamed. The grizzly’s head swung toward her. That’s when she saw the stick protruding from its eye socket. It roared, rage and pain blending together. “No!” This time she screamed to distract the grizzly from Durc.

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“Run!” Durc heaved the rock at the bear, striking it on the nose. Even before the rock landed, Durc snatched up another rock and jumped back, putting a little more distance between himself and his enemy. “Run, Tasia! Now!” The bear swiped at its face trying to dislodge the stick. Doing so gave her an unwanted view of claws long enough to tear a man apart. Its mouth was open and foam dripped from its fangs. The foam was tinged red—blood? The eye injury wasn’t responsible for that. He must have internal injuries. How had it been wounded and when? From the way the bear swiveled its head about, she guessed that it was blind in the one eye. Leave! Leave! You cannot truly attack when you can see only half of your world. Durc injured you. You injured him. Let that be enough. Durc, hurt? The Kebo warrior hurled his second rock. Like the first, this one struck home. Another furious bellow shook the air. A large amount of dark blood flew from the creature’s mouth. There was enough distance between Durc and the bear that she thought it would take at least three running jumps for the beast to reach him. Although she expected it to charge, it jumped up and down on all fours as if trying to trample the ground underneath. When it wasn’t doing that, it batted at the embedded stick. How much strength had it taken for Durc to bury his puny-looking weapon so deep? As if it had finally made up its mind, the bear charged Durc. The warrior waited, waited, then jumped aside. The bear charged past him, but as it did, it again swiped at Durc. Durc grunted and sagged to his knees. “Durc!” “Run!” She did but not because she cared about saving her life. Come after me! Chase me. Leave him! Perhaps the grizzly heard her desperate order and maybe Eagle had a hand in the beast’s behavior. Whichever it was, she took advantage of having caught the bear’s attention by hurling herself down the rocky slope. Her feet were being shredded, but she ran for her life—hers and Durc’s. Behind her the grizzly roared, screamed, bellowed. Maybe even cried. She sensed the massive body charging after her and thought of a rolling boulder picking up speed, overtaking her pitiful attempts to flee. Twice Durc had run her down, but he didn’t have teeth and fangs. He hadn’t torn her apart, killed her. Instead he’d changed her world. Eagle, please, let me live! She wanted to tell Eagle that she’d devote her life to Him if Eagle let her live but couldn’t pull her thoughts together. She couldn’t tell whether the bear was gaining on her, but the pounding on the earth seemed to be getting closer. Much as she needed to look behind her, she didn’t dare risk losing her balance.

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Let Durc live. There. To her side. She was almost past the tree when the impact of what it represented struck her. If she kept running, she’d tear her feet apart and be forced to slow down. The tall, skinny tree with a multitude of low branches might be her only hope of living—and maybe represented a gift from Eagle. Spinning, she sprinted for it. As she did, she caught a glimpse of the grizzly. Had she ever seen anything so massive? Had anything smelled so bad? Or been more beautiful in a deadly way? She reached for the bottom branches, jumping and scrambling at the same time. Bark dug into her fingers and scraped her breasts and arms and legs. Ignoring the pain, she clawed her way upward. The limbs bent under her weight and twice her feet slipped. She buried her nails in the bark and refused to let go. Up she went. Up and higher still. Now the tree seemed to sag under her weight. Would it break? The grizzly bellowed, raged. She sensed it close behind her, a storm about to overtake her. But when she paused long enough to look down, she saw that it was moving slowly and cautiously through the lowest limbs, shaking its head, bleeding profusely from the mouth. Join me, Durc. Please, somehow, join me. The grizzly’s presence grew fainter, and she risked another look. It was no longer climbing. Instead it clung to a relatively thick branch, staring up at her, trying to dislodge the stick by batting at it. Its mouth was full of blood, blunting the fangs’ impact. She felt almost sorry for it. Time passed in waves. Sometimes it felt as if she’d been there forever. Then something would switch in her and she was positive she’d just reached her perch. If she wasn’t so concerned for Durc, maybe it wouldn’t be this way. How long had it been since she’d seen Durc? He’d been wounded not once but twice. Yes, he’d been standing when she raced away, but sometimes wounds took time to make their impact. What if he was bleeding to death? Eagle, please, fly over him. Protect him with your spirit-strength. A wave of nausea forced her to close her eyes to keep from falling. The feeling that she was losing consciousness didn’t last long, but when she opened her eyes again, instead of seeing her world, she’d been pulled back to where Durc was. She felt intense burning on her—or was it his?—chest and arm. Blood ran from fresh wounds, weakening her—or him. She lay curled on her side on some dry grass as she struggled to take in enough air. Her vision was blurred. Her thoughts started to gather, flew apart, came together again. Fight. Fight or die.

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The bear slid off its perch, grabbed for another branch, wrapped its paws around the new hold, steadied its body, looked up. Heart beating like a drum, Tasia shook off the horrible image of Durc dying. If the bear tried to come closer, she’d climb higher although she didn’t trust the spindly limbs above her not to break. Surely the grizzly wouldn’t stay there forever, but even if it climbed down and disappeared, could she believe she was safe? That Durc was? Eagle, something has been created between the Kebo warrior and me. He believes he was born to fight and hunt. I do not understand his world, but I want to. I need to. But that can happen only if he lives. Was it too late to ask Eagle to spare his life? Because the answer was vital, she tried to return to the dreamlike place she’d been in, but although she again felt Durc’s pain, no image emerged. She’d been gripping this tree for so long, exhausting herself, trying to anticipate the bear’s moves. How could she expect to be able to do anything more? After resting briefly, she closed down around herself and let her thoughts flow. Preparing herself for Durc’s pain, she tensed, but now all she felt were her own weary muscles. Was he dead? Unnerved by how much Durc’s life had come to mean to her, she turned her mind to what it would be like to walk back into her village. She wasn’t sure she could find it on her own and prayed Eagle would guide her. Once home, her family would surround her. She’d cling to her mother and they’d cry together. She’d hold her sister’s precious infant and cover the innocent little face with kisses. Then she’d turn to Sook. Would he still want her? Did she want him? Shock pulled her back to reality. She’d never asked herself whether she wanted to marry Sook because she’d always believed she’d marry whoever could best provide for her and fill her belly with babies. Thoughts of love and lust had only briefly touched her mind, and she’d always discarded them. She no longer could. Sharp pain at the back of her neck compelled her to slap herself there. She killed whatever had been stinging her, but what if it hadn’t been the only insect? Hoping the bear, too, was under attack, she looked down. It hadn’t moved since nearly falling out of the tree and, except for its noisy breathing, looked more asleep than awake. “Go! Leave me!” The bear stirred. “You would not like my taste. My flesh is nothing like that of a deer or elk, not even as good as a mouthful of grubs. Go, just go.”

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The bear shifted position and swatted at its impaled eye, finally dislodging the branch. It bellowed, the sound making her shiver. She couldn’t make herself study the damage so stared at the still-bleeding mouth. Suddenly the beast stretched upward, powerful front paws reaching for her. “No!” Although the tree bent under her weight, she crawled onto a higher branch. “Do not try to come after me.” The great body continued unfolding, massive claws extended. “No!” Hearing a crack, she just managed to return to the more substantial branch she’d been on before the lighter one broke. Although this one seemed capable of holding her weight, she was too close to the wounded and furious grizzly. Seemingly oblivious to its own chance of falling, the bear appeared intent on standing on its hind legs so it could grab her. With its head upturned, she had no choice but to take in the ruined eye. I’m sorry, so sorry. If I could I would give you back— Growling furiously, the bear settled on its haunches and spun around, snapping at a rear leg. She couldn’t see what it was trying to get to but guessed no stinging insect would cause this reaction. Another startled growl shook her world. The bear tried to bite at its other back leg. As it did, it started to lose its balance. It grabbed for the tree trunk. At that instant, the branch it was on broke. Branch and bear fell as one, bouncing off lower limbs. It landed heavily, lay still for a moment, started to stand. Durc, stood a short and dangerous distance away, bowstring pulled taut in his corded arms, arrow ready. Naked except for his feather necklace and the quiver strapped to his back. He didn’t take his attention off the bear, and she knew not to distract him. Although she couldn’t see them, she now had no doubt that two of his arrows were embedded in the bear’s legs. No wonder it had taken him so long to get there. He’d had to go back to camp for his weapons. Panting heavily, the bear pulled itself to its feet and lumbered toward Durc. She spotted the slender shafts protruding from the bear’s thighs, but if they were still causing it pain, it made no sign. Moving slowly but deliberately, the bear closed in on Durc. Durc, his chest crimson, backed away and kept his arrow aimed at his enemy’s throat. “Do not move, Tasia.” While you risk your life, no! Not sure what she’d do, she started scrambling down. She carefully chose her every movement so she wouldn’t make noise, not because she was afraid, but because keeping bear and man focused on each other was important. Both were wounded. Both saw the other as the enemy. Both were ready to die if necessary.

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The bear continued to stalk Durc, but as thin strands of sunlight touched it, she no longer saw it as a feared killer. Every move looked cumbersome, labored, painful. If it had been she who’d been wounded, she would have fallen and curled into a ball, praying the shaman could heal her. But the bear had only itself and its will to survive, just as Durc did. She was nearly on the ground when, bellowing, the bear charged. The instant it did, Durc released his arrow. His strength drove the slender, stone-tipped spear deep into the grizzly’s throat. Even before his weapon reached home, Durc flung himself to the side, and the bear lumbered past him. Durc reached behind him, yanked another arrow from his quiver, and slipped it into his bow. He dropped to one knee, leaning over slightly, arms sagging a little. The bear spun around so quickly it stole her breath. “Run!” Even as she screamed, she knew Durc couldn’t outrun a charging grizzly. Durc gave no indication he’d heard her as he released this arrow. Like the last one, it housed itself in a furry throat. The bear rocked back onto its hindquarters and swatted at its neck. It was weakening. When it growled or bellowed, she caught a gurgling sound. Even she who’d never been on a hunt knew the bear’s lungs were filling with blood. Like Durc, she waited. He prepared another arrow but kept the bow down by his side, making her wonder if he was too exhausted to hold it up. When the bear slumped onto its side, and its limbs started twitching, she turned her full attention to the Kebo war-liege. Durc stood with his legs as widespread as he’d earlier forced hers, leaning forward slightly as if weary of standing erect, heat tilted slightly, torn shoulder and chest bleeding. His breathing was rapid, and his arms shook. The grizzly lifted its head and seemed to stare at the sky. It struggled to gather its legs under it. Then its head dropped, thudding dully against the ground. Its legs jerked, the movements lacking strength or purpose. Blood poured from its mouth and neck. Ignoring the grizzly, Tasia walked around it to Durc. She held out her hand, indicating she wanted him to hand her his weapons. After a moment he did, then sank to his knees. She grabbed him just in time to prevent him from collapsing facedown. “Grizzly?” he muttered. “It is dying.” And I will not let you die. He struggled to straighten. “I must…” “You have done what you were born to do, killed the enemy.”

***** By nightfall Durc was feverish. She’d managed to help him stand long enough to guide him to shade and had gathered grass and leaves for a bed. She’d left him so she could return to where they’d spent the night, for his loincloth and the small supply of

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food and precious water. After taking a sip from the bladder, she’d given him half of what remained. She used a little of that to clean his wounds. He’d cautioned her to keep more of the water for herself, but what did she matter when he felt as if he was burning up? At least his wounds stopped bleeding, but if she didn’t find some herbs to treat them, infection might kill him. Earlier she’d noted several aloe plants growing out of the ashes left by the fire. If she could find them in the morning, she’d make a salve out of them. Were the healing plants a gift from Eagle? When the moon rose and stars blessed the sky, she lay down beside Durc and draped her arm over his waist. He rolled his head toward her but gave no other indication that he was aware of her. In contrast, her body hummed and sang, and she cried for him. He’d risked his life for her. Maybe he’d been propelled by nothing more than his warrior training and the responsibilities he’d assumed, but he’d been wounded. Why hadn’t he left her to her fate? He owed her nothing. His attempts to forge a bond between them that would touch Eagle’s soul had failed. She wasn’t a Kebo. What did he care if she died? But he had, either that or he couldn’t call himself a warrior if he didn’t kill the bear. He was getting hotter, she was sure of it. Eagle, he needs water. I cannot find any in the dark, but if you truly are his spirit, our spirit, please help me in the morning. Otherwise he will die. Despite the horrid possibility that she’d wake to find herself next to a dead man, she couldn’t stay awake. Surrendering to a deeper exhaustion than she’d ever felt, she slid a leg over his so she’d know if he moved, then slipped away. At first there was nothing. Then images came to her, images and sensation. She stood before the Kebo warrior, her arms extended. Ropes held her wrists together, but otherwise she was free. His arms were at his side, his chest grooved with deep marks. An older man lurked behind him, his own hands pressed against the sides of his head. The old man glared hatefully at Durc, and Durc’s eyes spoke of old pain. His father. Your son is not to blame for your pain, she told him. Release him from the guilt he does not deserve. Give him what he most needs in life, your love. Instead of responding, the old man turned away. Groaning repeatedly, he disappeared into the shadows. Durc slumped, then straightened. Although emotional pain remained in him, his attention turned to her. Who tied you? he asked. You did. Take them off. I cannot.

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Reaching out, he started tugging at a knot, then stopped. He placed her fingers on his chest and ran his hands over her arms, finally reaching her breasts. They are beautiful, a woman’s breasts. You said they, like the rest of me, belong to you. I was wrong, Tasia. I do not own you. But I want to be yours. Lips tightly compressed, he repositioned her arms so they were around his neck. Forced onto her toes, she pressed her breasts against his chest to keep from falling. See, she told him. See how easily you mold me to you. I love the feel of you, your heat. And I worship your heat. He closed his hands over her buttocks, holding her tight, his hardened cock lodged between them. Lift me, she begged. Bury yourself in me. Let me wrap my legs around your hips. Yes. Yes. But only for a little while and then you must leave. What about you? I must finish dying. Her heart splintered. It bled as he lifted her so her legs clung to his hips. She leaned back, then slid forward, her cunt seeking. His cock prodded her opening, found home, entered. As she tightened her pussy around him she wondered if she could keep him there forever. They fucked like frenzied animals. She repeatedly shoved herself at him, pumping as wildly as he was. Her bound wrists burned, but she ignored them. Throwing back her head, she drank of the air and forced her thighs and ass to contract over and over again. He met her strength for strength, fingers digging into her buttocks, his thighs and ass taut and relentless. His length impaled her, rammed deep and full.

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Chapter Twelve Tasia woke at dawn to discover that Durc had rolled away from her and lay on his side, panting. Although she already felt his heat, she reached out and touched him. If anything, he was hotter than he’d been last night. Dying? Sitting up, she looked around at her world. They were in mountains she’d never known existed, and the cool air made her shiver. He could be dead by nightfall, maybe before the sun reached its height. If he died, she could return home—if she could find it. Shaking her head, she dismissed her welfare and the Bakista, even her mother. Only a few days ago nothing had mattered more than regaining her freedom, but the man now sprawled before her had changed so much. Still, just as she’d once accepted that she’d marry an older man who already had wives, she now faced the turn her life had taken. She couldn’t remain with a body—the body of the man who’d torn her from her world. After walking off a short distance so she could relieve herself, she returned to Durc. Before, his commanding physical presence had dictated her every move. He’d touched her as he wanted to, bound her, taken control of her cunt. Now he was at her mercy. She could kill him using his spear or walk away, leaving him to the wild animals who’d undoubtedly sense his weakness. Wolves or cougars would quickly end his suffering and free him to live in the spirit world. If she could ask him what he wanted, maybe he’d tell her he was weary of the struggle to survive his fierce life, and ready to take the next step. But she couldn’t ask him whether he was ready to die. Instead, the decision was in her hands. And in the memories her body held of him. Her stomach knotted, and she shivered. Eyes nearly closed, she cupped her breasts. Her hands weren’t his. Even as she massaged her nipples, she knew she couldn’t bring them to life the way he had. “Eagle Spirit, please hear this humble woman. I need your wisdom showing me the way. Should the warrior go on living? Is it his time to join the ancestors? And if you want him to stay in these mountains and hunt, please grant me the wisdom to help him. Guide me.” Except for the wind and a crow that sounded as if it was in the top of a tree to her left, silence greeted her. She shivered again and threw a deer hide over her shoulders. She’d reached for some of the dried venison when she sensed a new presence. Tense

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and angry at herself for not arming herself, she looked around. Only after she’d assured herself that no animal had approached did she glance upward. Not a crow but Eagle. Her knees buckled. She struggled to remain on her feet. When she again trusted her legs, she looked up again. Her breath snagged in her throat, and she blinked back tears. Do you feel Eagle’s presence? she asked Durc. He didn’t move. Except for his labored breathing, he appeared dead. She wanted back his strength and the dark glare in his beautiful eyes, his powerful arms holding her, his fingertips caressing. “You are magnificent,” she told the distant, slowly circling bird. “A wild gift. What do you see? Have you come to warn of danger or are you here to offer protection to us, your children?” Perhaps in answer to her question, the eagle drifted lower. She couldn’t tell whether it was looking at her or Durc. This might be a mortal eagle come to feed off the flesh of the newly dead. If that was the bird’s intention, should she try to protect Durc or bow before the gods’ wisdom? Could she stand back and do nothing? “Eagle, please, guide me. This warrior who should be my enemy has taught me what it is to be a woman, shown me the meaning of courage.” Changed me. Realization of how much her world had been altered alarmed and frightened her, distracting her from Eagle. Not long ago she’d have never imagined that she’d be attacked by a bear, sleep beside a badly injured man, have sex with him first against her will and then willingly. The world he’d forced her into was so different from the one she’d been born into—aggressive, violent, savage. If she left him, or if he died, could she regain the self she’d always believed she was? Did she want it back? “Eagle, I do not understand my thoughts or what I feel. He touches my body and I care about nothing else. I become like an animal in heat.” Saying the words warmed her. She ran her fingers over her belly but forced herself not to look down at Durc. How long had they been together? It seemed forever but it had only been a few days—not long enough to forget what it was to be a Bakista. “I need to return to what I once was, to wrap myself in the familiar and listen to my heart beating. Mine, not his.” Thinking to do that, she started to press her hand to her chest but instead caressed her breasts and again recalled the feel of Durc’s rough fingers on them. “I do not know myself,” she admitted. “But that must wait.” Filling her lungs, she positioned herself next to Durc and lowered her gaze. He remained on his side, his broad shoulders still powerful-looking, legs and arms strong although still. His necklace dangled from his neck. His cock lay useless and unaroused, a small, soft-looking piece of flesh. The way it was now, no woman would tremble before its potential or want it inside her. This morning it held no power over her.

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And she refused to think about what happened to her when that changed. “Eagle, this man is my enemy and yet he is not. If it is his time to die, I accept it as I know he would. But if you want more from him in this world, for him to protect and provide for the Kebo, he must have healing herbs, strengthening food, water. Please, help me provide those things for him.” For the enemy who has become much more.

***** Tasia hated leaving Durc, but she didn’t want to lose sight of Eagle who’d come so close that she could have climbed a tree and touched her spirit. After moistening Durc’s lips with the last of the water, she took note of a trio of burned but still-standing trees that acted as landmarks and started following Eagle. Before she’d gone very far, her bruised and battered feet started burning. She carried Durc’s spear but wasn’t sure what good it would do. Although she’d watched her clan’s men demonstrate how a thrown spear could bring down a deer, she’d never imagined needing to use one. That, like everything else, had changed because the Kebo war-liege had stepped into her life. As she struggled to ignore her painful feet, her awareness of the rest of her body increased. She’d explored the sensations in her breasts and belly before and had inexpertly fed the sensations between her legs, but she’d never imagined how intense, how complete those feelings could be. Her surrender frightened her. Do not think on that! Today is about learning Eagle’s wisdom, nothing else. Nothing except doing everything you can to keep Durc alive. Eagle seemed oblivious to her turmoil. Whenever she stopped to rest, the predator bird swooped low and uttered a chilling cry. Any thoughts she had that this might not be her spirit died the first time that happened. Now she simply struggled to keep up. To not ask herself whether Durc had died. Higher and higher Eagle took her into the mountain. Now she was past the burned area and deep into trees that appeared to have been growing since the beginning of time. If she wasn’t climbing, she would have been chilly. She came across plants she’d never seen before, and in many places there were more boulders than dirt. She occasionally had to find her way around a particularly steep area and had only a vague sense of how far she might be from the top. “Why are you bringing me here?” she asked Eagle as she tried to catch her breath. “Surely no clans make their homes in this rugged place. I do not know how to make use of these plants. Water. What about water?” As he’d been doing since they’d started the journey, Eagle only continued to swoop low and then fly upward, finding space for His broad wingspan among the massive trees. And although she limped with every step, Tasia followed her spirit. 92

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***** The sun beat down on her, making her forget how cold it would be at night. Because climbing took so much effort, she’d discarded the pelt she’d thrown over her shoulders. Besides, Durc had shown her what it was to be naked. She loved the smell of heated pine needles and rocks but felt uneasy because the land was so foreign to her. She understood low, broad valleys, not mountains. But Eagle had a journey for her to complete—one she prayed was for Durc’s sake. Intent on how he was doing, she was slow to realize she was now following a path. When she did, she considered that the trail might have been created by whatever clan— if one did—lived here, then realized it had been made by deer and other animals. Walking on well-packed dirt was much easier than scrambling over rocks and fallen trees and branches. Hopefully she’d be allowed to continue like this. Then she heard the birds. Shrugging off her weariness, she crept toward the sound. The path zigzagged around trees, forcing her to concentrate on where she was going. Then she found herself looking out at a small, deep lake.

***** The sun had begun its dying journey for the day by the time Tasia returned to where she’d left Durc. She’d used a number of watertight baskets she’d woven from fern leaves to gather as much water as she could carry, then resisted the urge to run as she descended. She’d taken time to briefly bathe in the cold, clean water, all the time prayerfully thanking Eagle for bringing her to what she, and Durc, needed to survive. She wasn’t sure how she’d get him to the lake. If need be, she’d return by herself daily for a fresh supply. He was awake, propped up against a tree, sweating and feverish. Despite his obvious weakness, he’d gathered his bow and remaining arrows around him and maybe would have shot her if he hadn’t recognized her. “I thought you had left,” he said, his eyes following her. “I did but only because Eagle commanded me.” Her legs trembled. She wanted nothing more than to collapse beside Durc and fall asleep although, looking at him, she wasn’t sure she could quiet her body’s response to him long enough for that to happen. “You are better?” He shook his head, his smoldering eyes telling her how much he hated the admission. “I am thirsty. It keeps me awake.” Smiling—how long had it been since she’d felt like smiling—she indicated her carrying leaves. “Water,” she whispered. “Endless water.” He stared, disbelieving. “Where? How?”

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She waited to tell him what Eagle had led her to until she’d carefully set down all but one laden fern and helped him drink. Eyes glittering and his hand on her knee, he asked what seemed like endless questions about the lake’s location and what she’d seen along the way. She took pride in being able to answer most of them. Most of all she loved hearing the relief in his voice. Once she’d satisfied his curiosity, she ordered him to lie down again. His warrior body told her how much he hated his weakness, but he did as she commanded. She used the rest of the water in the first leaf to again clean his wounds. Then as he watched her every movement, she placed the wet leaf over his chest and shoulder and stretched out beside him. “I must look for an aloe plant, and I will get us something to eat—berries and roots—but first I need to rest.” “You did not have to do this.” He ran a less than steady hand through her hair. “If I had escaped my captor, I would not have returned.” “You are more than captor.” “What am I, Tasia? What?” “I do not know, but Eagle does.” He’d released her hair but now grasped it and drew her close. His features blurred, but she knew them so well she didn’t need to see them. “We are very different,” he muttered. “A man who was born to fight and defend and a woman reared to create.” “I know.” It might just be her imagination, her hope, but he didn’t seem as hot as he’d been earlier. And yet she sensed another kind of heat in him, one she shared. “Perhaps Eagle brought us together so we could understand each other,” he muttered. “And perhaps Eagle chose us to save our people from the drought, nothing else.” “Do you believe that?” “I do not know what to believe, Durc. I am weary.” Exhausted and yet hungry for you. “Neither do I.” Using his grip on her hair, he pulled her against his chest. Concerned that she might hurt him, she resisted, but even injured and feverish, his strength was greater than hers. Giving in, she closed her mouth over his. Her breasts were flattened between them, her arms bracketed his chest and supported her upper body. He tasted of sweat and the water she’d given him, of the wilderness. Parting her lips, she drank more deeply of him. He was right. As long as he lived, he would be a warrior. Tasting him, touching, letting his tongue explore her wouldn’t turn her into a fierce Kebo, but her body didn’t care. Tonight her body wanted only his bone, flesh, muscles, his cock buried deep inside her. But not now. Not until they were both strong enough to fuck.

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Chapter Thirteen No longer in need of water and food, Durc slept as if he was dead. When he woke, the sky was alive with stars, the moon full. Rolling from his side onto his back made him grit his teeth, but he distracted himself by studying the skeletal trees that hadn’t yet surrendered to the fire that had killed them. Tasia lay a short distance away, breathing softly. Not only had she found a couple of the low-growing aloe plants, she’d also come across several bushes with overripe but eatable blueberries and insisted he eat most of them. Then she’d given him more water, watching closely to make sure he didn’t drink too fast. She hadn’t restricted her own intake, explaining that she intended to return to the lake at daylight. Then, although her eyes had given away another kind of hunger, she’d chosen a place to sleep far enough away that they couldn’t easily touch each other. This woman whose imprisoned and naked body had once been proof of Kebo superiority had and would continue to keep him alive until he was well enough to take back his responsibilities. He owed her his life. A low groan that had nothing to do with his injuries escaped him. A Kebo warrior acknowledged his dependence on other warriors, not a female captive. The order he’d always accepted and lived by had been altered. He didn’t know how to handle the change and wanted back the life he’d always lived. At the same time, he wanted her under him and his cock in her. She was going to leave him. Once he was well enough to manage on his own, she would return to her people and lead them to the sacred, Eagle-given lake. Because Eagle had blessed her, she could keep her people alive until it rained again. Nothing mattered more to her—surely not him. But he mattered a little. If he didn’t, she would have let him die. He closed his eyes and willed his mind to be silent, but couldn’t find the deep, dark hole he’d escaped into earlier. When he’d had no choice but to wait for her return, and wonder if she would, he’d cared about little except regaining his strength. His cock had been a useless and unimportant part of his body, and he hadn’t wasted a moment’s thought on it. In truth, being relieved of what sometimes felt like unrelenting pressure had made it easier to focus on survival. Weakness and fever had stood between him and the most important question. Without ropes on her, how could he get Tasia to stay? And if he again resorted to bondage, would she hate him? And even more important, why did her presence matter?

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Eagle, have you cast a spell over me? Made her stronger than me? Do you believe she is more worthy of you than I am? No! A warrior didn’t dare believe he was weak or unworthy in the eyes of his spirit! Whatever it took to earn Eagle’s grace, he would do it.

***** When she woke up, Tasia thought Durc was asleep, which made it easy for her to study him. She was relieved to see that his wounds no longer looked so swollen and red, and his chest rose and fell at a slow, easy cadence. Instead of making her think of a dying man, he was becoming a warrior again. A warrior. Shaken, she closed her eyes. This man was her enemy and the enemy of her people. He represented everything that was savage and animallike. All her life she’d been told that those who ruled with weapons and might were little more than cougars and wolves, not born of Sun God. Her body wanted his only because he’d forced her to his will, because as an animal he would do whatever he could to turn her into one. Was that true, or was she so overwhelmed she couldn’t think? Head pounding, she opened her eyes. A shock ran through her when she realized he was returning her stare. She wasn’t afraid of his dark eyes or hard-muscled body. And surely his once again hard and hungry cock held no power over her—surely. “I want you to guide me to the lake,” he said and sat up. His movements were slow but smooth. “Do not keep Eagle’s gift from me and my people.” “I claim the lake for my clan.” She stood up, belatedly acknowledging that they were both naked. “It is Eagle’s gift to me, to my people.” “No.” The single word struck her like a blow. She was slow to realize he’d gotten to his feet. He stalked toward her, his gaze running down her body. Although he hadn’t touched her, she felt branded. She started to back away, then stopped. I refuse to be cowed, to run. You owe me, owe— Before she could finish the thought, he grabbed her. Powerful hands gripped her arms and yanked her against his chest. No longer feverish, he’d again become strong and masterful. Still she struggled. “Listen to me, Tasia. Eagle’s gift cannot be just for the Bakista. Without the lake, the Kebo will die.” “Take what you need then, but I claim the land around the lake for my people. They will live there, not the Kebo.” Her words sounded so strong. Even as he pinned her arms behind her and bent over her, strength continued to heat her blood. She glared up at him and kept her legs resolutely together as she fought the growing warmth in her core.

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“No one tells the Kebo what they will or will not do, where they will live.” He forced her to bow her back until she would have fallen if not for his hold. “You think you have become a warrior because you took your seed into me, but you are wrong.” “Not a warrior.” He loomed over her, all male animal. If she’d been an animal herself, she would have offered herself to him. In truth, the impulse to submit lapped at her. “I am a peaceful woman whose spirit honors her. Me, not you, who believes force is the only way.” His gaze darkened and burned. Moving quickly, he captured both wrists in one hand and closed the other over her throat. “Do not say that! Eagle is my spirit, mine!” Could Eagle have chosen both of us? Shaking off the thought, she forced herself not to panic. He controlled her so easily. Even without bonds, she was under his command. But she didn’t want back her freedom, didn’t want to be free. Giving in to her body’s cries, she widened her stance, and he positioned his legs inside hers. His warrior-power raced through her and ignited her pussy. Her breasts ached. The nipples tightened. Barely aware of what she was doing, she shook her head. Increasing his hold on her throat, he stopped her. “Who has Eagle’s strength, captive, who?” She took a breath but didn’t answer. He was right. She couldn’t possibly get away. But did she want to? Durc lifted her off her feet, then tossed her toward a large clump of dry grass. She landed on her buttocks but instead of trying to stand, she leaned back and stared up at him. His cock commanded her attention, turned her thoughts to what it was capable of. He loomed over her, legs arrogantly spread as if challenging her to ignore his sex. He cupped his cock and drew it out. “This rules you, captive. You have become a slave to it.” “It—it enslaves you too.” “Nothing controls me!” He glowered. “A Kebo warrior knows no master.” “One,” she whispered. Her hand shook as she ran her fingers over her wet labia. Each featherlike touch quickened her heartbeat. She forced herself to continue. “A woman’s cunt rules all men. Even the Kebo war-liege is not immune.” He stared at her, defied her to look away from his swollen cock. They’d become armed enemies seeking weakness in the other, and yet they were much more than enemies. Mates? Mated? No! She needed to be like Eagle, free to float over the world, alone, untouched by him, strong. “You need me, Durc. The gift Eagle gave me will keep your people alive.” She ran a nail lightly over the small, hard nub that spoke to every other part of her. “Watch me, Durc. Watch and know that I, not you, control my body.”

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As she stroked herself, he rubbed his length. Despite her dying ability to concentrate on anything except him, she acknowledged how much she’d grown and changed since he’d entered her life. Only a few days ago she’d had no comprehension of her sexual nature. Durc, not her growing maturity, was responsible. The ghost of a smile touched his full mouth. It continued its mysterious message as he again claimed her hand and drew her fingers off herself. Bending low, he took her breast in his mouth. He nipped and nibbled. No matter how much she struggled to free herself, his weight and strength easily kept her in place. The flesh under attack became more and more sensitive. The line between discomfort and pleasure blurred, then all hints of pain died. He’d brought her breast to life and taught it that being controlled and tested was a wonderful thing. A moaning chant pushed past her tightly compressed lips. She repeatedly tossed her head, mindless to the wild hair now half blinding her. He reared back. “Who controls your body, slave? Who?” You! “I hate you!” Her wet, warm breast throbbed. “Perhaps. But can you deny that you want me?” His knee pushed between her legs and settled against her crotch, shoved, demanded. “You feel nothing, slave? The truth! Speak the truth.” “Stop it. Stop it!” Muscles taut, she struggled to slide out from under him. As she did, her juices bathed his knee. “The truth dampens both of us, slave.” He again trapped her hands against her belly and used his grip to keep her in place. The pressure on her sex continued. “When I first took you, you believed I was an animal. But I am no longer the only creature who lives to fuck. You have joined me, become me.” She hated hearing the truth from him. At the same time, his crude words further excited her. Maybe her response was born from when he’d tied and controlled her and taught her things she’d never known about herself. Tomorrow, maybe, she’d find the answer. “Speak, slave! You want this, do you not?” “Do not call me a slave!” She waited for him to prove he was right. Instead, he abruptly drew her upright. He easily pulled her hands behind her. Cheeks on fire, she waited. He kept her against his side, his heat greater than hers. But despite his lingering fever, she no longer detected any weakness. If danger came to them, the Kebo warrior could, and would fight. He might even risk his life for her, the woman he called his slave. “Tell me something, Tasia. When Eagle led you to the lake, did He come close enough for you to touch?” His touch was the only one she could concentrate on. Still, she tried to go back to that magical time. “No. Eagle remained aloof. Distant.”

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A sigh lifted his chest. On the brink of asking what he was thinking, she pulled her silence around her. Durc was fierce, hard, savage when he needed to be. As long as she remained in his embrace, she could embrace those things. Hungry for something she’d never imagined she’d want, she leaned into his wounded shoulder. Weak there and caught off-balance, he stumbled and landed on his side on the ground, taking her with him. He lost his grip on her hands. She took advantage of her freedom by trying to force him onto his back. Once, just once, she needed to be the predator instead of prey. He didn’t give her the chance. Working quickly and smoothly, he wrapped his arms around her and trapped her arms against her side. At almost the same time, he rolled her onto her back with her legs outstretched, her body arched over a slight mound. He lay over her, holding her motionless. “Only a foolish woman tries to battle a Kebo warrior.” His breath made her cheeks and mouth tingle. “Do you not understand? I am war-liege, mighty among a clan of mighty fighters.” “One who forces himself on those who are weaker because he is too foolish to see them as human beings?” After a moment he nodded. “You believe I am forcing you to do something you do not want?” He lifted himself onto an elbow and slid his hand between her breasts. Except for that gentle pressure, she was free. Walk away, his eyes and touch challenged. Show us both that you do not want this. She couldn’t. And she would no longer lie. “I want you.” He blinked and leaned close again, making her believe he was going to touch his mouth to hers. Instead, his lips and teeth descended on her throat. For a moment, she tried to evade him. Then, giving in to something that curled deep and hot inside her, she turned her head slightly away, giving him full access to her throat. His teeth were sharp, nipping lightly, quickly. At the same time, his lips and tongue soothed away whatever discomfort he might be inflicting. Clenching her hands and locking her elbows by her side, she fell into the sensations. Her eyes burned. She couldn’t keep her mouth or legs closed, arched her back even more in wordless invitation for him to take her breasts. Instead, he continued to lean over her, a hand between her breasts, his lips and teeth exploring vulnerable flesh. Her hips squirmed. Her own juice coated her labia. She dug her heels into the ground and pushed her pelvis upward. Still denying her, he caught her nipple between his teeth, pressed down, then released her but only so he could suck on what he’d just nipped. She couldn’t hold still, didn’t dare move. Only half understanding what she was doing and why, she sent strength to her thighs, repeatedly contracting and relaxing the muscles there. Her hips were higher than her shoulders, prompting her to imagine how she looked with her belly sunken into her pelvis, breasts spread over her chest, legs splayed, cunt empty. Fill me. Fill me. 99

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Perhaps he could see inside her mind because he suddenly rolled her over and onto her stomach. The mound she’d been arched over now forced her buttocks up. She had to turn her head to the side to prevent her nose from being smashed against the ground. She started to move her arms. “No.” He forcefully repositioned them at her sides. “Keep them there, prisoner.” Prisoner. Although she no longer saw him as her captor, she did as he ordered, not because she feared his greater strength but because her own body demanded obedience. What did he need with bonds when she wanted his hands roaming her flesh, his seed spilling inside her? He quickly, easily, surely drew her legs even further apart before kneeling between them. Embarrassed by the way he’d splayed and positioned her, she kept her head turned away. “Mine.” He cupped his hand over her opening. “Mine.” Yes, yes! She had no idea how long they remained like that, waiting, anticipating, when his fingers moved. Her pussy muscles jumped. She started to lift her head but lacked the strength to continue. Another torturous wait followed. Then his fingers again twitched. As before, her muscles responded. “So easy,” he muttered and ran the side of his thumb over that most sensitive of places. “So easy to make you beg.” “You want me to beg?” “Do you want to?” She almost laughed. Didn’t he know she wasn’t capable of rational thought? In an attempt to lessen his impact on her senses, she concentrated on the smell of earth and what grew in it, the pounding in her head, her heavy yet light body. Nothing, really, held her in place. She could, if she wanted, slide away from him. Even if he stopped her from escaping, the battle would prevent his intimate handling of her. She’d kick, scratch, maybe bite. Striking his wounds would weaken him and remind him of what she’d done to keep him alive. But she didn’t want to do any of those things. Weak, heavy, light as an eagle feather all at the same time, she handed herself over to him. One hand prowled over and around her cunt. The other now pressed against the small of her back. She imagined the two joining, capturing her between them, molding her as Bakista men molded logs into exquisite canoes. She’d become what he wanted her to be, prized and proud. The thought of turning into something valuable and valued faded, replaced by lightning pricks centered around her clit. Too late she realized he’d taken hold of her there. Too late she acknowledged how desperately she needed what he was offering.

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He’d captured her clit between thumb and forefinger, the smallest of grips commanding everything in her. Barely aware of the pressure in the small of her back, she squirmed. She couldn’t say whether she wanted freedom or to be dominated, just that this wasn’t enough. “Durc! Durc!” “Hush, hush. Do not speak. Feel. Experience.” Once again he shifted, positioning himself so both hands had easy access to her. Fearing not just him but herself, she tried to look over her shoulder. He appeared as a large, dark blur, more bear than man. But no bear would ever intimately massage a woman’s flesh while sliding his fingers in and out of her, in and out, quick, so quick she couldn’t possibly stay ahead of the sensations. “No, no, no,” she chanted. She again lifted her head and shoulders, then let them drop as she struggled to free herself from something so intense she thought she might scream. She was hot, cold, drowning, swimming. “Yes.” Sweat slickened her under her arms. “Why? Why?” “So you will never forget me.” I will not. I cannot. Faster, harder, the finger inside her smooth and yet rough, lifting her, flinging her outward. “No! No!” Propelled by desperation she didn’t understand, she planted her elbows against the ground and shoved herself forward. Durc’s hands still taunted her, but the arrogance had died. Even as she twisted first onto her side and then into a sitting position, she knew she didn’t want to do this. She wanted him ruling her. Owning her. Teaching her what it was to be a slavewhore. Her world faded and another appeared in her mind. She saw naked and eager slave-whores hurrying toward returning hunters. As one, the women rubbed themselves against the men. As one they stroked their pussies and pinched their breasts. If a man ignored them, they dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around male legs. Fuck me, Master. Fuck me and I will satisfy you. And if the man kicked them away, the slave-whores scurried to another warrior so they could place that warrior’s hands over their cunts. Fuck me, Master. Please, I beg you. Make me come. Leave me alone, whore. I want to sleep. Was this her? Had she become a dog in heat?

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Shaking and sick, she dug her nails into Durc’s wrist. “Let me go! I do not want this!” He stared at her, prompting her to draw her knees against her belly and wrap her arms around them. “I do not believe you.” “This is my body, not yours.” “And you turned it over to me.” “No longer.” Her head felt as if it was screaming, prompting her to scramble to her feet and back away. Cold air closed around her but did little to extinguish her fire. Her inner thighs felt slick, her breasts so swollen they ached. Her cunt pulsed and cried. She didn’t dare look at Durc with his strong, dark cock, yet she couldn’t drag her gaze off him. “Without Eagle and me, you would be dead. Take the gift of life and give me back mine.” Durc waited until Tasia had stumbled away before leaning against the nearest tree for support. He concentrated on controlling his breathing and ignoring the pressure in his cock. He didn’t succeed in reaching either goal. She hated him. Of course she did. Only when he felt strong enough to stand upright did he look at his hands. Always before he’d thanked the gods for the strength in them. He’d never thought the time would come when he’d want to cut them off, but he did now. She was right. She’d saved his life. But instead of showing his gratitude, he’d used his greater strength to bend her to his will, to try to prove that she wasn’t the only one worthy of Eagle. To speak to Eagle in the only way he knew. But wanting Eagle’s blessing and trust and gifts hadn’t been the only reason he’d come close to making Tasia climax. Although he wasn’t sure he fully understood what had driven him, for a few moments he’d felt like a warrior again, the Kebo war-liege instead of wounded and weak. Then the soft, moist heat of her cunt had made its impact and he’d faced the truth. This small, slight, gentle woman had brought him to his knees. Kept him from dying and touched his heart. Desperately weary, he looked around for his weapons, but when he spotted them, he made no move to pick them up. She who he’d once considered his property, his prize, had returned them to him. She’d followed Eagle into the mountains and carried life-giving water back to him. He owed her everything. And feared her power. Hated her for it.

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Chapter Fourteen Grunting, Tasia stopped and grabbed her calf. She didn’t look at Durc as she massaged the knotted muscle. When the cramp eased, she scanned her surroundings. She’d only been here once before and had been intent on not losing sight of Eagle. Still, she had no trouble retracing her steps. Other than asking her to guide him to the lake, Durc hadn’t spoken to her after she’d returned last night. She hadn’t said anything about her aimless wandering or her reluctant admission that she couldn’t yet leave him after all. The lake was a gift from the spirits. Surely Eagle intended more than the Bakista to benefit from its life-giving moisture. Fine, she’d take the war-liege to it. She’d make him promise to let the Bakista and Kebo share the lake’s bounties. She’d ask him to hunt and share his kill with her before she left to find her people. Once she’d taken those first few steps away from him, he’d disappear from view. She might never see him again. And if their paths crossed, she’d stay out of his reach. She’d do nothing to reveal her turmoil. Her ache. Eagle, I accept your wisdom in all things, but I do not understand why you became this man’s spirit—or if you truly did. He and I are so different. When he looks at me, all he sees is a possession, something he has a right to do everything he wants to with. He cares nothing about my heart, only using my body to satisfy himself. As she started walking again, she admitted that what she’d just told Eagle wasn’t the truth. All she had to do was recall his reaction when she’d shoved him off her. He could have forced himself on her, and she would have been helpless to stop him, but he wasn’t an animal after all. Why not? Before searching for an answer became all-consuming, the message she’d been fighting to ignore once again wrapped itself around her. Soon, so soon, Durc would no longer be part of her world. Never again would his touch ignite her and turn her into a volcano, a forest fire. Life was safer without those things—safe and hollow.

***** Durc smelled the lake before he saw it. He hadn’t smelled the full richness of abundant water for so long that he’d nearly forgotten what it was like. Now, looking out at the spirit-born gift, he no longer felt his weary, aching body. Sweat might still sting his healing wounds, but the discomfort didn’t matter. Nothing did except 103

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studying the wind-born ripples, deep tree shadows, the occasional small ripple indicating when a fish broke the water’s surface. A lake was a simple thing, moisture contained, a place for life to spawn and grow. Surrounded by great, sheltering trees and fed by endless melted snow, if it wasn’t for the drought, he might not give the lake any thought beyond possibilities for fishing or hunting. Now, humbled by summer’s endless dry heat, he dropped to his knees and gave thanks. Although she was at some distance, he knew Tasia was doing the same thing. Can you see me, Eagle? Do you feel the depth of my gratitude and hear my humble thanks? My people will live because of your gift, yours and the other gods. If the Kebo were not worthy, you would not have sent the Bakista woman to guide me here. I understand your message and the lesson in your silence, which made my search for water long and hard. You deem her worthy, not me. I have done something to disappoint you. I have failed you, somehow. But you have not fully turned your back on me. Your compassion, kindness, and wisdom touches me and I am grateful. My people are grateful. Afraid he might unwittingly think or pray something that would further disappoint Eagle, he bent low so he could touch his lips to the earth. His head pounded from the effort of trying to decide why Eagle had blessed Tasia and not him, and he couldn’t deny his heart’s pain, but he’d always accepted the gods’ wisdom, even when they’d given him a father incapable of love. That wouldn’t change today. He turned toward Tasia, careful not to let his gaze linger on her. “Thank you. You have given the Kebo life.” “Not me. Eagle.” He nodded but couldn’t think of anything to say. After kissing the earth herself, she stood. Her movements were as graceful as a young doe, smooth and easy as a bird in flight. Her body had been created to carry life and give birth—and to make him forget everything except her. Had she been sent as a test of his worthiness as a warrior? If so, he’d failed. He waited until he was sure she couldn’t see before pushing himself to his feet. The long trek here had worn him out, and he longed to ease his aches first in the lake and then by stretching out in the sun. But even as he considered how wonderful those things would feel, he returned to the question of whether he’d failed in the spirit-sent tests he’d been given. Yes, the bear had wounded him, but he’d managed to kill it. And in doing so, he’d saved Tasia’s life. She’d begun as his rightfully taken property, but their bodies had joined in mutual exploration and joy. He’d guided her to what he suspected had been her first climax. By forcing it from her. The realization nearly drove him back onto his knees. Of course she was determined to return to her people. Of course she wanted nothing more to do to him. And certainly Eagle shared her emotions. 104

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Head pounding even more, he started walking along the lakeshore looking for a gentle slope so he could step into the water without testing what remained of his strength. As he scanned the earth, he accepted the weight pushing down on his shoulders. Tasia had been blessed by Eagle, but he’d wrapped ropes around her and bent her to his will, robbed her of her freedom, controlled her body, ruled her sexuality. Because he’d never known another way. Eagle, you sent her to me as a test, did you not? You wanted proof of whether I, and the Kebo, were worthy of you. Instead of seeing her as what she is, blessed by you, I approached her as a Kebo war-liege approaches an enemy. I failed.

***** Tasia watched Durc ease into the water. She shuddered, thinking of how cold it was. He moved slowly, obviously taking care not to step into a hole. In her mind she felt the chill on her calves, thighs, hips. She couldn’t imagine how he stood the assault on his cock, then wondered if he was deliberately numbing it. Good. She didn’t want him thinking about fucking. She should leave, turn her back on the man who’d wrenched her away from her world and turned her body against her. She’d done what she’d promised by guiding him here. Although she hadn’t seen Eagle today, she’d sensed His presence and trusted Eagle to show her the way back to her people just as Eagle had guided her to this precious lake. She’d convinced Durc that the Kebo and Bakista could and must coexist here until the rains came—or maybe he already accepted Eagle’s wisdom. The water was now up to his chest. Seemingly oblivious to his world, he continued walking. She didn’t think she’d ever been in water that deep. If it was her out there, she’d be afraid of drowning. Could Durc swim? What was it like to feel at home in a lake or river, to trust her body that much? Do not let your thoughts stay on him. You do not care about him. Knowing she couldn’t lie to herself, she looked around for ferns she could use to carry water back to her people. But even as she spotted some, she knew she couldn’t carry a heavy burden that far. Her clan’s survival depended on getting them here as quickly as possible. Instead of feeling weary, the task ahead of her strengthened her. She’d walk as long and rapidly as necessary, convince the clan’s leaders to listen to her, help women and children prepare for a lengthy journey—because being with Durc had taught her the true meaning of leadership and strength. No longer interested in anything except him, she again studied his form. He was strength. Even weakened by his wounds, he was the most powerful man she’d ever seen. His body spoke to hers in ways she’d never known was possible. Ways she’d never forget.

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An ache began between her legs, and she unselfconsciously rubbed herself there. The ache grew until it spread to her heart. Durc’s back was to her. Although she couldn’t see anything except his head and shoulders, she remembered everything about him. The men of her clan valued their hands and eyes over their muscles, and she hadn’t known that what a man was physically could impact her the way he had. But his appeal came from more than a hard and powerful body. What that body could accomplish meant just as much. Helpless against the memories, she sank deep into images of his hands on her. She needed his fingers in her, not her own. Groaning, she forced her arms back by her side. Even as she trembled and heated, she knew she couldn’t satisfy the hunger he’d spawned in her. Only he could. But she needed more than to fuck and be fucked. If their hearts and minds didn’t touch, it would never be enough. Eagle! I am so weary of thinking, of asking myself what I want and need. Please, grant me peace.

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Chapter Fifteen “Wait until morning,” Durc told her. “And once the sun begins its journey, keep it ahead of you. Walk toward it.” “When will you start back to your people?” She’d been staring at the fish Durc had speared earlier. Although the smell of it cooking over the small fire he’d built made her mouth water, Tasia tore her attention off it. Durc hadn’t spent long in the lake. Afterward, he’d warmed himself in the sun, then waited patiently along the shoreline until he’d spotted the fish they’d soon eat. Although she could tell he was weary, she didn’t believe he was in danger of collapsing—either that, or giving in to an injury was something a war-liege never did. “I need to be here alone.” He briefly met her gaze, then studied the fire. “Not long but for a short time.” “To rest?” He didn’t answer, prompting her to wonder if admitting weakness was incomprehensible for a war-liege. She didn’t know him, did she? She might sometimes think she did. She certainly understood his need for sex, but there was so much about him he kept closed off to her. “What if there are other grizzlies?” She’d unwisely sat close to him. Much as she wanted to tell herself that what she felt was heat from the burning wood, it wasn’t true. Durc brought her to life, caused lightning to dance on her skin. “I have weapons,” he said. “If I need to, I will fight. And Eagle will protect you.” “You are certain?” He took hold of her wrist. After placing her hand on his thigh, he ran his fingers up her arm. She shivered, both fighting and welcoming his touch. “Eagle blesses you.” He spoke so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “Your spirit will always protect you.” Her lips were dry, her tongue thick. “You believe that?” “Yes.” “But why does Eagle bless me?” “I do not know.” Even distracted as she was, she realized Durc didn’t resent her relationship with Eagle. It wasn’t in him to hate someone who had what he didn’t. But something was bothering him. She stared at his hand on her. His knuckles were dark and broad, his fingers long. His wrist was nearly twice as thick as hers, a warrior’s wrist. She loved the contrast between his deeply tanned flesh and the black hair on the back of his arm. If she

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touched those hairs, would they feel soft or rough? His skin wasn’t enough protection for his prominent veins. Maybe she should tell him to be careful. The idea that she had any wisdom to hand a warrior nearly made her laugh. Perhaps she would have if her own skin hadn’t caught fire. She didn’t want to feel like this, and yet she did. Now, when their time together was coming to an end, she needed to study his arms, his walk, the messages deep in his eyes, the way he cocked his head to catch sounds, the strength in his hands and back. Not giving herself time to think, she slid closer. She took hold of his wrist and held up his hand. Mouth still dry, she ran her fingers between his. Perhaps the size difference should have concerned her, but it didn’t. She’d seen these hands kill a grizzly and knew how easily he could imprison her. These strong fingers had roamed over and in her cunt and laid claim to her breasts, her entire body. “What do you see?” he asked. “You.” She didn’t take her attention off his hand. Although she wasn’t done studying his palm, she turned it so she could see the back. Several old scars ran from his knuckles to his wrist. “So much of what you are lies in this part of you.” She touched the largest scar. “How did you get this?” “I am not sure. It might have been when the Spasa attacked us. I was still learning what it meant to be a warrior. Our shaman had blessed us so when a number of us traveled into land the Spasa claimed, we were careless. They attacked while we were sleeping.” “You could have been killed?” She fought the impulse to kiss the barely remembered proof of what his life was like. “If the Spasa who tried to run his spear into me had had better aim, yes.” A shudder lapped at her, but she forced it away. Durc was talking openly about his life. She needed to accept, to understand. “Did the spear strike you here?” “No. I grabbed his weapon and yanked it out of his hand. Then we fought, rolling around on the ground like children playing. We each drew blood.” “You were a boy then? He was bigger than you?” He nodded, then gazed at her until she became uncomfortable. “What are you thinking?” she asked. “Whether to tell you everything.” She could stand up and walk away, return to her world without truly understanding his. Or she could wrap herself in the truth. “Tell me.” “You will not want to hear it.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you are a woman of peace.”

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She had indeed spent her life walking a peaceful path, but he’d shown her there was more than one way to travel. “A woman, not a child. Why did you not die that day? What happened to the man who tried to kill you?” “I killed him.” Gripping his hands, she tried to imagine this thing of bone and muscle and magic on her body ending a life. “How?” Although Durc slid around some of the details, she soon understood that while he and the other warrior had been fighting, Durc had managed to pull the Spasa’s knife from its sheath, and stabbed him repeatedly with his own weapon. “I did not think about trying to kill him,” he finished. “I only knew what I had to do to live.” The scars on the back of his hand were hardly the only ones. Another ran nearly all the way around his elbow. Still others marked his side, shoulders, a calf, and the back of one thigh. Old burns marred his back. He had a long indentation over his temple. Where her flesh was untouched, virginal, his spoke eloquently and proudly of a violent life. He touched his side. “When this happened, I believed I would die.” This time controlling her tremor took more effort. Once she’d mastered it, she made herself ask him to explain. He and two other Kebo hunters had just killed an elk when they were jumped by a number of hunters from yet another clan. He’d never learned, or cared, the name of that clan, only that they’d stolen fresh meat from three outmanned Kebo. “My companions were killed.” He dropped his gaze to their intertwined hands. “I fought, fought until I could fight no more. I pretended to be dead, but when they left me, I grabbed my gutting knife and attacked the one who had killed my friend. I was reckless, careless. Someone struck my side with something, maybe a tree limb. Blood poured from the wound and I could barely see. I knew only one thing, that if I stayed, I would die that day.” Even with her eyes opened, she easily imagined the terrible battle. “How did you survive?” “I ran.” The two simple words were laced with bitterness and regret. “You lived.” She impulsively brought his hand to her breasts. “That is all that matters.” “I tell myself that I did what I had to so I could continue to be of value to my clan, but a warrior does not abandon his fellow warriors.” “Even if they are dead? Do not try to step into the past and change it, Durc. You became war-liege.” “Yes.” Yes. This man whose hand was now nestled between her breasts was the Kebo’s bravest warrior and their fiercest fighter. She should be terrified of him, but she wasn’t.

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Just a couple of days ago, he would have boldly claimed ownership of her breasts. If he’d come upon her while she was alone, he might have pushed her onto her back and forced her to spread her legs. He wouldn’t have spoken to her or wanted to hear her voice. To him, she would have been nothing more than a spoil of war. But no more. She didn’t fully understand everything that had changed between them and maybe never would. But she now knew him in ways she hadn’t imagined possible—and she cared about him. “Do you want to be war-liege?” His head jerked up. “It is who I am. Who my clan need me to be.” “But—” “I do not question my destiny, Tasia. Do you?” “I did not before but now…” “Now what?” After everything they’d gone through, she couldn’t hide the truth from him. “I cannot marry Sook. I will not.” He stared at her, forcing her to meet his gaze again. “Because?” I do not love him. “Having to live with him would be like dying. His world extends no further than his wealth, his skill. I respect his craftsmanship, but I do not want to spend my life in his shadow.” “How do you want to spend it?” No one had ever asked her that. She wasn’t sure she’d asked herself. Wondering if the answer might lie in her surroundings or if Eagle held it in His talons, she looked around, but the trees and lake didn’t speak to her. Durc had made no attempt to claim her breast. For perhaps the first time since they’d met, he wasn’t proclaiming himself a warrior. “In service to Eagle.” The words echoed inside her. “Opening myself to Eagle’s wisdom.” “You want nothing for yourself?” You. Her eyes burned, and she blinked back sudden tears. When she could see, she lifted the fish away from the coals and placed it on a rock. Not giving herself time to test the wisdom of her impulse, she guided Durc’s hand to her mouth. She pressed her lips to the back, shivering at the feel of delicate hairs brushing her. More tears threatened as she rested her cheek against his palm. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For what?” “For taking me out of my village and showing me that there is more to this world.” He rubbed his hand over her cheek, and she drew courage from the act. “I can never again be satisfied with what I had before you took me. Sometimes I might hate you for

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changing me, for making me dissatisfied, but now I am more than just a Bakista maiden. I have embraced more than one way of living, and now I must become valuable to Eagle.” She wanted to tell him so much more, to let him understand her newfound commitment to learn about and then share Eagle’s wisdom. But their time together was so short. Did she really want to spend it speaking? “You believe Eagle looks for those who see more than one way to walk?” “Yes.” She straightened, and although he’d see her tears, she looked at him. “Yes.” “If that is the truth, and I believe it is, you must look for a man who is like yourself, both strong and humble.” I want you. “Not humble.” Barely understanding herself, she placed his hand over her breast and leaned into him. “You have shown me that my body is something to take pride in, a gift capable of feeling great pleasure.” He cupped his palm around her breast and lifted it, holding her as if she’d given him something precious. Lightning slid through her where he touched, spread outward and down. “You should hate me,” he said. “For taking me?” “For forcing you to endure certain things.” “You turned me into a woman.” He looked skeptical, prompting her to guide his hand down her body, igniting her ribs, waist, belly. When he reached her mons, she released him and leaned back, silently letting him know she was presenting herself to him. He ran his fingers into her pubic hair, fingertips barely grazing the sensitive flesh beneath. She lifted her pelvis toward him and tried to concentrate on regulating her breathing. He kept his journey slow, so slow she started shaking. He touched her labia as if he’d never done this before, the contact tentative and respectful. This was the action of a man who cared, who honored everything about her. “I will not break. I need…more.” “I want to be gentle. For you to know there is more to me than a warrior.” But I have fallen in love with the warrior. She managed not to move while he continued his exploration. And despite her jumping nerves, she felt, simply felt. He stroked her aching clit, her wet folds, her flooded passage. When her arms gave out, he eased her onto her back. Instead of returning to her sex, he closed her legs and positioned himself over her. She looked up at him, seeing his blurred features, feeling his breath on her skin, sensing his greater weight poised over her. Turning her head, she rubbed her temple against his taut arm. Reaching up, she touched his side. He shuddered.

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“I will not hurt you,” she said. He chuckled. “I should not laugh. Perhaps you will order Eagle to attack me.” “Eagle will never harm you.” “Can you be sure? I cannot.” Much as she hated hearing him say that, she couldn’t concentrate on the words with his strength blanketing her. Strength. A cock capable of making her weep and scream. A cock capable of enslaving her. No, she’d never be a slave. Even with his great strength, she was his equal. Eager to share what she now believed, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself up until they were joined from breasts to thighs. His muscles tightened, letting her know he’d accepted responsibility for her weight. Smiling, living in this one glorious moment, she nibbled his chin. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Eating you.” “I do not want to be eaten.” He lowered himself and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Now she lay on top of him with his arms holding her against him. His cock prodded her, and she opened her legs so he could slide between her thighs. She tightened her grip. “Then I will squeeze you.” His chuckle rumbled through his chest and into her breasts. “What if I do not mind being squeezed?” She couldn’t think of anything to say so concentrated on contracting and relaxing her thigh muscles. Was she causing him to swell even more? “Do you want this?” he asked. “If you do not want to fuck, leave, now. Otherwise— ” “I want. I need. Durc, I will try not to hurt you but—” “My wounds are nothing. You are everything.” Everything. Her mouth trembled, and she quieted it by pressing it against his lips. Bakista adults seldom kissed, but she knew how to give and receive pleasure. The high mountain sun had chased away all remnants of the time he’d spent in the cold lake. No hint of a fever remained in him. He tasted of berries and water. She tried to inhale his scent but smelled only wood smoke and roasted fish. His mouth put her in mind of a puppy’s tongue, soft and yet insistent. Unlike a puppy, he wouldn’t nip her. She took advantage of the difference by alternately pressing and letting up, exploring the different textures and sensations. He too pressed and relaxed, parted his lips, closed them, opened again, touched his tongue to her, dampened it and ran it over her.

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He knew so much about making her hungry for sex, but his kisses were unsure, as tentative and exploring as her own. Not tentative. Not after everything they’d been through. Tightening her thigh muscles, she pushed her pelvis against him, lifted her upper body to increase her grip on his cock. He caught his breath and shifted slightly. “I hurt you.” Concerned, she started to move off him. “No. I am all right.” All right wasn’t good enough. She needed him to join her completely, to fully embrace their time together. Moving carefully, she straddled him with her knees on the ground and taking most of her weight. His cock pressed against her buttocks, sought space between them. Wondering what that might feel like, she rose, repositioned herself, sank down. His cock remained caught under her. Frustrated, she started to lift herself again. He gripped her pelvis, stopping her. She looked down at him, tossing her head in an attempt to get her hair out of her eyes. He watched. “I do not know what I am doing.” She couldn’t lift her voice above a whisper. “But I want this to be for both of us—to be the one in control.” His eyes darkened. She felt his muscles tense. His fingers gripped her more firmly. “You are afraid of me?” she asked. “No.” He too was whispering. “I never thought—never knew I would want this.” Instead of demanding a further explanation, she waited for him. She loved the flesh-to-flesh union of thighs. Far from being painful, his fingers spoke of life, of what lay in his heart. Wanting to thank him for his honesty, she stroked his forearm. “No woman has ever been on top of me before.” “You do not like it?” A smile, quick and slight, touched his mouth. “It has not lasted long enough for me to know.” How she loved his smile! “Then this is a lesson for both of us.” One that may have to last for the rest of our lives. “I am weak, Tasia. I do not want to be but—” “It does not matter. I can bring you pleasure.” Her words echoed in her and showed her the truth. Although his methods had been rough and sometimes overwhelming, frightening even, he had brought her unbelievable pleasure. Now it was her turn to give him the same gift, somehow. Eagle, I need wisdom, understanding of this man’s body and heart. What does he need? What will make him whole? You. Your body and heart. Her body went numb, then turned hot. She shook her head again, this time to clear her mind and vision. No, there would never be anything gentle about Durc’s features.

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Scars marred his flesh. His nose was sharp, his eyes large but deep-set, his cheekbones prominent. Something touched her, brushing her throat, shoulders, between her breasts, down her sides, sliding over her pelvis. Her skin was suddenly sensitive almost as if she had a sunburn. Burying herself in the changes, she lifted herself and reached for Durc’s cock. It sprang free of the prison that had been created by both their bodies. Holding it cupped between her hands, she stroked the sleek, soft, strong sides. “Tasia.” What was that in his voice, excitement perhaps, maybe concern? Because she remembered what it felt like to have no control over her body, she understood why he might be worried, but she had no desire to make him feel like anything except what he was, a warrior. A warrior about to fuck her. She rocked forward and angled his cock at her. The tip pressed against her opening, the touch gentle yet promising more, so much more. “I will fuck you,” she said. “Hold you down and force you to do what I want you to. You will respond as I command, do you understand?” Any thought she might have that she could intimidate him died when he arched his pelvis toward her and pushed down on hers at the same time. His cock pushed, found entrance, slid deep. “Hold me down then, Tasia. Make me helpless.” Throwing back her head, she laughed. His cock shifted, stroking the back of her cave and causing her to gasp. Determined to prevent him from pushing her over the edge too soon, she contracted her pussy muscles. Doing so closed her cunt around him and trapped him in her. Intrigued, she relaxed a little and slid closer. His cock filled her even more. She couldn’t be sure whether she’d taken in all of him. “Bend your knees,” she ordered. “Lift me.” Smiling that half smile of his, he shook his head. “Do not disobey me, slave.” She caught his nipple between thumb and forefinger. At the same time, she squeezed his cock again. “Submit. Submit or feel pain.” Lips parted, still smiling, he planted his feet on the ground and bent his knees, which pushed her up and slightly off-balance. She leaned forward and settled her hands on the base of his rib cage. Once again, his cock moved inside her, perhaps growing even larger. Fighting the impact on her senses, she struggled to determine what fucking must feel like for a man. Because men loved the act so much, she had no doubt that it was just as enjoyable for him, if not more, than it was for her. If she could use that to her advantage—

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He shoved himself into her, raising his buttocks off the ground, lifting her, body straining. His features contorted, letting her know that he’d caused himself pain. Caught between wanting to spare him further discomfort and showing him that she was no longer his captive, she clenched her inner muscles. She rose at the same time, pulling his cock up with her. He strained even higher, trying to buck her off him. If she hadn’t planted her hands on his chest, he would have succeeded. Balancing herself, gripping his cock with all the strength in her, she waited him out. Finally, grunting, he collapsed. Her thighs shook as she kept pace. After resting a moment, he again flexed his knees but didn’t try to dislodge her. Unable to continue the strain, she relaxed. He remained housed inside her, a large, warm weight made to fulfill her. Eyes half shut, she concentrated. He’d become part of her. Their bodies had bled together and joined. She could keep him in her forever. Even if his cock became limp, if she so chose she’d refuse to grant him his freedom. Her prisoner. Her muscles twitched, then twitched again. The feel of him commanded her attention. Except for the fingers now stroking her pelvis, he was still. Held by her. holding her. A slight wind fluttered over her back and shoulders. When it touched her breasts, she looked down at herself. Her nipples jutted out as if begging to be caressed, but she was content to have his hands where they were. Content. On fire and yet at peace. Her hair again slid over her cheeks and shoulders, but she made no attempt to push it out of the way. Her pussy was drenched. A little fluid had found a path around his cock and dampened where their outer flesh joined. Eager to have his seed blend with her juices, she quickly, lightly contracted her muscles. He tensed, studied her. Over and over again she tightened and relaxed. One moment her cunt closed down around his cock. The next she granted them both a little freedom. Then she came at him again, not to punish but to give pleasure. She tried to imagine what he was feeling, erratic fluttering sensations that constantly stimulated him. Each contraction brought her closer to the edge, and she accepted that pushing him toward climax was doing the same to her. She couldn’t keep this up. Much as she loved the sensations, her muscles there were untrained. Going deep inside herself, she found new strength—perhaps the kind Durc had drawn on after the bear had wounded him. She clenched, released, clenched, released. Her heartbeat quickened. Her cunt wept. If she didn’t keep their bodies pressed together, he’d slide out of her. Faster, stronger, make yourself burn. Catch him on fire. There! Something hot nibbled on her clit. Fascinated, she stopped moving. The sensation eased. Determined to embrace it again, she renewed her attack on both of 115

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them. He drove himself into her, hard, short thrusts filled with power. She fed off him, renewed herself, imagined her cunt swallowing him. He strained against her, his back arched and no longer on the ground, thighs shaking. No longer moving, she braced herself and absorbed his impact. His power grew. His cock twitched. “Go!” she screamed. “Go!” He did, jerking, sweating, spilling. Feeling as if she was about to take flight, she became him, felt his climax. My gift to you, Durc. Take what I give you and feel whole. Sweat coated his belly. Her fingers trembled as she touched and then tasted his sweat. She closed her mouth around her fingers, sucking. Doing those things renewed her and she rocked back and forth, desperate to find her own release. “Wait, wait.” He planted a hand on her belly and pushed. His other hand slid between their joined bodies, fingers finding her clit. Panting, she leaned back to increase his access to her. He touched a nail to her, granted her momentary relief, touched again. This time the contact lasted a heartbeat longer and traveled deeper. She sobbed, rose high on her knees and leaned into his finger at the same time. Nothing mattered except relief. She had no modesty, no thought beyond her terrible need. “Come, Tasia! Come.” Drawing upward, sliding out, everything shuddering, spreading. Relief long and hard and… Laughter. Then nothing. “Done?” he whispered. “Yes. Thank you, yes.” He pulled her down on top of him. “No, Tasia. I thank you.”

***** He must have fallen asleep but not for long. Tasia’s weight on his chest trapped their sweat against the claw marks the grizzly had inflicted, making the scratches sting. Despite the discomfort, however, he delayed lifting her off him. When, finally, she stirred, he kissed her chin. She lifted her head, then maybe realizing what she was doing to him, she moved to his side. She touched his wounds. “I need to bathe them.” About to tell her that he didn’t want to be treated as if he was helpless or dying, he nodded. She sat up, then wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her legs against her body. Her hair slid over her cheeks, protecting her. Because he had no choice, he touched her necklace. “What are you thinking?” she asked. 116

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“Of the differences between us.” His admission hung in the air. He who had known a lifetime of fighting felt helpless. “Eagle gifts you. I take from Eagle.” “It does not matter. This lake is for both our clans. There is enough for everyone.” Although she was right, he felt no more at peace. Because Eagle hadn’t blessed him, he was unworthy of the trust his people had placed in him—and her. Closer to tears than he’d been since early childhood, he forced himself to stand. His cock was spent and useless, and he should cover himself. He wished he could drape a deer hide over her so he didn’t have to look at her, but soon it wouldn’t matter. Soon she’d leave. Before long their clans would live here, but their time apart from their people would be over. Eagle, I accept your wisdom. I am blessed because I have fucked this woman you trust, but it is not enough. I failed them. Failed myself. Instead of searching for his loincloth, his hand stole to his necklace. He held it out so he could study each feather and remember how they’d come to him. Although the Kebo would say they were rightfully his, he knew different. Eagle had flown to Tasia and gifted her with what was sacred to Eagle while he’d taken. Taken. Just as he’d taken her. “Durc?” Instead of facing her, he started to lift the necklace over his head. He’d give it to her. Maybe Eagle would see and understand. Maybe she would too. “Durc!” Alarmed, he whirled around. A large shadow was weaving through the trees, coming closer, lower. He tried to step between her and the danger, but she grabbed his arm and held him in place. “Eagle,” she whispered. He blinked repeatedly to cool the heat caused by his unshed tears, then stared. Eagle indeed was gliding slowly, gracefully between trees that grew so close together he didn’t see how the great wings found room. Eagle seemed to be floating although surely the wind couldn’t support the large bird’s weight. So slowly that he felt each movement in his nerves, the predator approached. He’d always been in awe of Eagle’s effortless flight, but it had never been like this. His knees threatened to buckle, but he’d stand as long as Tasia did. Tasia didn’t shrink from the predator. Instead she stood naked and waiting, her arms now outstretched. Barely aware of what he was doing, he lifted his own arms. Eagle glided over the ground like a leaf settling to earth. Talons capable of ripping and killing settled into the grasses and the great wings folded against the solid body. Eagle held His head high, beak open, eyes probing. “I greet you, my spirit,” Tasia whispered. “And I thank you for your gift.” She indicated the lake. “The Kebo and Bakista will live because of what you have given us.” Durc’s throat tightened. He swallowed and drew her to his side. They both trembled. “You chose well, Eagle. This woman is indeed worthy of you. She is peace

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and strength, a strength I did not know existed.” Trying to keep his fingers from shaking, he again started to remove his necklace. “I am not worthy of this. She is.” “Durc, no.” Eagle continued to regard him, small yellow eyes boring into him much as his arrows had penetrated the grizzly. What did Eagle see in his heart? Courage, yes. Power, yes. But that wasn’t enough. “I bow before you. Hand myself to you. What do you want of me? What must I do to be worthy?” Neither he nor Tasia moved. He didn’t believe they so much as breathed. Opening his mind, he waited to see if Eagle would respond. One moment after another passed. Eagle himself seemed frozen. Make me your child. Become my teacher. Suddenly, as gracefully as He’d landed, Eagle took flight. He drifted higher, higher until the trees and then the sky embraced Him. Durc saw only the unbelievably wide wings—then nothing. Feeling as abandoned as he had the first time his father had struck him, as when Tasia had run away after they’d fucked, he swayed. If not for her arm around his waist, he might have. “Durc, look.” He followed where she was pointing. Two large, midnight-hued feathers with snow-white tips lay side by side in the grass. The tips were pointed toward them, the feathers touching. “A gift,” she whispered as she bent to pick them up. She pressed one against her breast, the other against his chest. “For us, my warrior.” Trembling, he covered her hand with his. Heat radiated from two sources—the feather and her. “Eagle, thank you,” he managed. You are strength and courage. The gods have always known that. And the woman we sent to you has opened your heart. You are worthy, Kebo warrior. “I heard,” Tasia whispered. “The gods have spoken.” “I—I accept their wisdom.” He laced their fingers together and took a deep, calming breath. “And I want to be your warrior for as long as we live.” Tears brimmed in her dark eyes. “And I want to be your wife, mother of your children.” Laughing he clutched her to him, trapping their necklaces between them. “I want a son so I can teach him to be a warrior—to have a son to love.” “And a daughter?” “Gentle and brave daughters like their mother. Children blessed by Eagle.”

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About the Author “Of course I’ve time-traveled to the ancient Everglades, infiltrated bondage strongholds, done wilderness search and rescue, and spent a night trapped in a workout gym with Mr. Universe. How can I possibly write about something I haven’t experienced?” Although I love telling readers that, the truth is much more mundane. In my “day” jobs, I’ve been a commercial pilot, brain surgeon, worked as a white-water river guide, bee keeper, snake charmer, and garbage collector. And if you buy all that, let me pitch the bridge I have listed on eBay. Vonna welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310.

Also by Vonna Harper: Brothel Night Captive Warrior Dangerous Ride Dark Touch Down and Dirty anthology Equinox anthology Equinox II anthology Forced Hard Bodies Her Passionate Need More Than Skin Deep anthology Refuge Scarlet Cavern Storm Warnings anthology Thunder

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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