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Chapter 2
HIM
I grab the branch and swoosh it around over the snow, bringing as much down as I can to cover the path I made. It doesn’t matter if it’s not leveled, in this darkness he won’t notice the difference, not with all the dips and mounds of the rough terrain.
And snow starts falling again.
I don’t need to look back to know that she’s right behind me. Taking frail, careful steps, following the path I made in the snow when I came for her.
She’s not running though.Why isn’t she running?I know I warned her not to, but still. Any woman in her right mind would have the good sense to at least try after what I said to her.
We walk back, careful not to make too much noise through the woods, but when I fail to hear the footsteps of her chaser, I stop and so does she. We stand still and wait. He probably reached the tree where I found her, realizing there’s no path anymore.
Suddenly a frail little hand touches mine and startles me. She’s pushing something into my hand, and I realize it’s a rock. I turn and look at her, at her very features for the first time.
Even in this darkness, I can see a faint spark. There’s something hidden there. Something I can’t quite place. Sorrow? Pain? Unfulfilled desires? Maybe all of them, maybe none. The darkness might be making me see things.
Either way, there’s something there and I feel a powerful sense of possessiveness over it.
Fuck…
Mentally shaking myself, I grab the rock and throw it in the distance, listening as it hits a tree. The heavy footsteps hurry in that direction and we quietly carry on with our task, covering the path that leads to my house.
It takes much longer to get back than it took me to get to her, but we have to cover our tracks properly. When the woman loses her footing behind me several times, I realize she’s not going to last much longer. I turn back and haul her over my shoulder with little protest on her part. She feels frozen under my touch as I hold her around her thighs and her frail arms try to grab onto my waist from behind.
By the time we reach the house, I bring her down into my arms, but she’s completely still. She might be dead for all I know.
I climb the steps to the porch and hurry inside, straight to the living area. I lay the woman down in front of the lit fireplace, on the thick sheepskin, and from the sofa that sits before it, I grab the fur blanket and cover her with it.
But not before I get a good look at her.
She’s not as frail as I thought, but as frightened and cold as she is, she might as well be.
Round hips and ass, nice big tits, beautiful legs and soft plump belly, are all wrapped in a deliciously curvy figure. I turn her on her side, facing the fireplace and I grunt when I notice the scars, old and new, some fresh, some soft, some deep, all over her body. It almost feels like sacrilege, marking this beautiful flesh permanently. I don’t linger though, there will be time for that later.
I notice her feet, fresh blood covering them.
After I wrap her in the blanket, I bring over a couple of wet cloths and the antiseptic cream from the downstairs bathroom. As I clean her feet, I note the battering they took as she ran through the forest. It will take a little while, but they will heal, the snow offered her some protection from the rough ground.
Still, why is she fucking naked?
I plant myself on the sofa, push my boots off and drop my feet on the coffee table, sighing in anticipation to the long fucking night ahead.
I had other plans for her when I heard the banshee-like screams. When I got a good look at her lush, soft body, my dick got even harder, but then... I had to see her scars. I had to see her fucking battered body and my plans did a 180 on me—my dick will have to wait.
At least for tonight.
But my ardent desire to rip that motherfucker’s head off with my bare hands is growing. I will find him. And he will fucking pay.
Yet, I wonder if she realizes that she ran from one monster just to end up in the clutches of a different one. I wonder…
HER
Pain, so much pain…
He is right there, at the edge of the dungeon that he calls my room, watching me as I metaphorically lick the wounds that he inflicted on me. And there, in his clutches, I see the branding iron and I’m both afraid and confused.
He watches me watch him, and even in the darkness, I can see that sleazy smile plastered all over his disgusting face.
