Page 66 of White Raven

“No!” I shouted. I swung out, punching one of them in the face, doubling him back. I bolted forward, zipping through an opening between the attackers, my hair fluttering by them like rope.

Pain snapped my head back as a hand wrapped in my tresses, easily yanking me back. In practice I had always tucked it up into a tight braid, never thinking an attack on me would come when I wasn’t battle-ready. I’d never considered my hair as a weakness.

Kämpe’s hands gripped my shoulders, drawing me to him. Yanric would tell me when I complained about having no weapon and several fighters coming for me: “Sometimes a bird has to fly against the wind.”

Using him as leverage, I slammed my heel into his foot, ramming my head forward into his flat nose. I heard the pop, the crack of cartilage as pain exploded across my skull, feeling like it hit a brick. His grip on me never faltered, holding me tighter as my legs bowed under the pain, my vision blurring.

A loud laugh clipped the air.

“Did you think that would work?” the Boss said from the wagon. “Kämpe gets hit in the face and head countless times a night, he has no brain or feeling left in that skull.”

Kämpe chuckled along, oblivious to the blood dripping from his face, or the insult.

“But I love your spirit. Always more fun to housebreak.” Boss’s humor fell away. “Now stop wasting time and get her in the cart.”

The man I had punched moved in, wrapping my already sore wrists together. Vomit sizzled the back of my throat, my body freezing in panic and fear, not able to fight my way free. Panic attacks could hit me out of nowhere, rendering me useless in a fight.

The third man, the Day Raven, smirked contemptuously at me, a sinister glint in his eyes.

“Say goodnight, tispe.” A burlap bag dropped over my head before pressure slammed down on my head with a thud.

“Fuck, Hvit, don’t hurt the merchandise!”

Blackness took me before I even felt pain.

CHAPTER 15

Iwoke with a start, my eyes bolting open to darkness, a blindfold stealing my sight, the stench of hay, oats, and an oily odor coating my nostrils. My body rocked to the sway of the wagon, the taste of vomit in my mouth, my wrists and ankles bound like I was no more than a dead animal prepped for a spit.

With no sense of how much time had passed, I tried to focus on their voices around me. The men spoke to each other with uninhibited volume, their voices driving more searing pain through my head like a knife, but that wasn’t what woke me up.

The tattoo itched and throbbed, prickling to the point I had to bite back the whimper rolling around on my tongue. Sweat gathered behind my neck, my entire form feeling hot, sticky, and exceptionally restless, wanting to tear off my skin. Lying still was utter torture.

The fucking Northerner must have used a dirty needle between us, infecting my wounds with whatever contamination he had.

“We’re home!” The Boss’s mocking tone rang out, the cart coming to a jerking stop, lurching my frame against the side. “Put the new merchandise over there.”

“Gladly,” a malicious timbre snarled close to me. Hands gripped my tied arms and tugged me up. By the tone I knew it was the Day Raven. His hatred of me sang through his aura and spilled in venomous rage.

He yanked me from the cart, my ankles and arms pinned, throwing me forward. I slammed painfully onto my knees, my face skidding over the rocky ground.

Mocking laughs echoed in the air. The glee in their dominance over me was palpable. They wanted to humiliate and belittle me just for being a Day Raven.

What if they recognized me or found out my title? I swallowed back the terror building up in my esophagus.

Arms wrenched me up to my feet and I was shoved forward. “Move.” Shuffling, my shoes scraped over the ground. The sound of a crackling fire drifted warmth through my layers; the feeling of other people crackled the air around me.

“Sit.” The Day Raven backed me up, pushing on my shoulders. My ass hit a log as he ripped off the hood from my head. Blinking, my vision focused on the minimal campsite. Several youthful women and men sat around the fire, their hands and legs bound, a long rope securing them to a tree as well.

“Now sit and obey,” the Day Raven ordered. His eyes were hungry for pain. Dominance. “It’s what your kind has been bred to do.”

“Isn’t that your kind too?” I retaliated. I was so used to speaking freely with others, limiting my words only with my father.

The slap came sharp and fast. Pain bulging behind my eye and throbbing my cheek.

“You speak when we tell you!” He showed his yellowing teeth. “And I may have been born from a Day whore, but I am nothing like you. I wouldn’t abandon my people in the Dusk Realm to die.” His gaze went to my long hair, the detailed braids weaved at my scalp. A sign of privilege. His nose wrinkled. “You probably worship your king, don’t you, think he is a hero? When he is no different than any other tyrant.”

“Hvit!” the Boss yelled. “I said stop damaging the merchandise! Go feed the horses!”