AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not yet, no, I won’t. My pride won’t let me, the same instinct of self-preservation that tells me to stop also tells me to put distance between myself and him because his blue eyes and sharp smile, his strong body and spicy scent are a hazard to my rational mind.
Just then, a big animal jumps in my path. Something cat-like. A jaguar, I think, dazed, skidding to a halt, then taking a step back. It’s black and sleek with yellow eyes and big teeth. Very big teeth, curving like sabers downward.
That’s not… a berserker, I think, and before I have time for anything else, I lift my hands in the second pose of Artume’s moon-hunting ritual and let out a sharp cry.
The animal stills, watching me.
And the Wildman grabs me from behind, swings me over his shoulder once more and races up the path, muttering under his breath what I can only assume are curses.
Here we go again…
Back inside the cave, he sets me down on the furs and squats in front of me. He looks pensive. I hope he’s thinking about returning me to my mates.
But no, no such chance.
“You like,” he says.
“What do I like?”
“Bed.” He gestures at the jumble of furs I’m sitting on. “My bed,” he clarifies.
I almost laugh again. Goddess, I shouldn’t. This isn’t funny. “It’s a bed.”
“You like… soft.” He runs a hand over the fur nearest to him. “Bed is soft. Like you.”
“I’m soft?”
“Soft… skin?” He smiles a little, and behind the grime and thin beard, the lines of his face are harmonious and strong. Handsome.
“I’m a girl,” I whisper. “So yeah, my skin is softer than yours.”
“I like soft.” He’s gazing at me with a kind of wonder in his eyes and it makes my throat close.
I’m not a toy, I remind myself, for him to play with. Nor a pet to keep locked up in his cave.
Even if he has jaguars wandering around.
“You didn’t tell me there are wild animals outside,” I accuse him.
“Nature,” he says, gaze still roaming over me, and shrugs. “Animals.”
Right. I should have known, apparently. But I was raised inside a fort. The only animals I ever came into contact with were cats and dogs, chickens and rats, and the occasional horse. I only know jaguars from pictures.
“You stop animal,” he says, his gaze returning to my face, meeting mine. “How?”
“The jaguar? I don’t know.” My turn to shrug. “Maybe I scared it with my cry? Or maybe you scared it, coming down the path all furry and bulky and all. You’re scary.”
Red touches his cheekbones. “I’m a man.”
“You’re a berserker!”
He shakes his head. Sits back on his heels, a mound of furs and long hair. “Who are you?”
“I’m a Temple acolyte of goddess Artume, the huntress.”
“You smell… good.”
So do you, I almost blurt out, but manage to keep my mouth shut.
