This chapter is twice as long as the last one and chapter three is already written and should be even longer. It was hard for me to tell how the page length would translate to Lit pages. Thanks for any and all comments as I am trying to improve the story as I go. I think this story might be classified as a slow build, but I have already written future scenes that are more erotic and also place the story firmly in non-con (I'm an avid reader of the category.) Thanks for reading!
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The girl--Lucy--was waiting with her guard. As instructed, they had taken her inside the mountain to a look-out. He had wanted her to see the confrontation in the town. She had watched her people gather, watched him answer them. She would have seen the people disperse. He had known that they would not stay. He doubted they would risk a rescue attempt. If they did, they would scatter first, regroup. Their gathering places were far from the mountain, almost spilling into the sea on the other side of the island. Only the very poor still lived anywhere near the land that they occupied. They stayed only because they could not find a way to go.
She was crying. Quietly. She was struggling even now to gain control. But he was pleased to see the tears. It meant that she had seen and understood. And her mouth was still unbound. She had followed his command.
He dismissed his soldiers with a wave and they left the small lookout, disappearing into the tunnels. No doubt, they would be quickly assigned to guard duty elsewhere. The entire army had been mobilized to guard the perimeter for further signs of unrest.
He stepped into the doorway of the lookout, trapping the girl in the small space. Sunlight streamed through the thin slits of rock that allowed for a view, landing in thin strips over her face and body. He knew that she felt his presence, but her gaze was fixed on the wall across from her, unseeing.
"Come," he said.
She startled. She took a shaky breath and wiped a hand over her face.
"You've been watching us," she said, gesturing to the slits. "You can see everything."
"Yes," he said. "Now, come here. Do not make me tell you again."
The girl's breath hitched at the threat. She stood carefully, as if uncertain that her legs would hold. In two, slow steps, she crossed the small space--he would have had to kneel to occupy it--and stood before him.
It was pleasing to him that she was afraid. Her body knew him even if, as an islander, she was unaware what that meant.
He swept her into his arms without warning. He had intended that she should walk. But she was weak with shock and grief and he was impatient. He forced her to lean into his chest and covered her with his cloak. Every being inside the mountain knew already that she was here. But he did not wish to display her as he carried her to his room. There would be time, later. Now, with the mountain secured, he could turn his attention to the girl who would be his mate.
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The longer she was close to him, the more her world fractured.
The scent of him, the feel of his arms around her. His eyes. They seemed to have the power to root her feet to the floor. As he carried her, she tried, in some small way to distance herself. She focused on the stone walls--shimmering here and there with mica and trickling with streams of water. Everyone wondered how the warriors lived inside the mountain. Some suspected that they managed to live beneath the island or even to leave it as the people below the mountain could not. It was nothing like she had imagined. It was cold and strange, like the people who lived in it. Even as she began to lose herself in her surroundings, the warrior tugged her closer and pulled his cloak over her face. Resigned, she closed her eyes, struggling not to lean her head too easily against his chest, and tried not to think at all.
After what seemed like hours--but was likely only minutes--he stopped and set her down. She stumbled away from him, falling against what turned out to be a bed. The room was dim, with curved walls. Besides the bed, there was a desk and pillows against one side of the curved wall formed a seating area. Suddenly, lights flickered on, recessed into the area above the curved wall. Lucy was grateful to be able to see better, but she still felt claustrophobic. That's when she realized.
No windows.
They must be deep inside the mountain. Of course there could not be natural light. But the thought made her feel instantly buried. She began to breathe heavily. She tried to count the breaths as they came and went.
Five seconds.
That was how long she needed to take each breath in and let it back out to keep from panicking. But the technique failed her. She could barely breathe at all.
The warrior came back into view. He pulled her up off the bed. One of his massive hands circled her wrists and held her still. The other curled around her waist. He rubbed her back firmly, pressed his fingers into the tension at her shoulders.
"You're all right," he said. "Inside the mountain, your mind will play tricks on you. It feels like there isn't any air because you can't feel the outdoors, but there is plenty. Just breathe."
It took some time for her to calm. Each time her breath seemed to return, she became aware again of the man who was holding her, and the cycle started over again. Finally, she closed her eyes and forced herself to forget everything that was happening. She promised herself that when she opened them again, she would maintain her calm, no matter what happened. When she was certain she could keep that promise, she opened her eyes.
When she did, he saw two things. He saw that her eyes were a startling shade of blue. And he saw that she had managed to summon an admirable calm despite her situation. He respected her for it. But he was also determined to challenge her instantly. Because he knew also that the calm, determined girl standing before him now had only gotten that way by shutting him out, ignoring him and managing the effect he had on her, even as he sought to soothe her. She needed to learn quickly that she would not be permitted anything without his leave.
He reached out and grasped her thin dress at the hem. The light blue fabric was stained with berries--she had gathered them in her skirt and fallen on them when he came upon her and her friend. Her gaze flew to his hand, but she didn't push him away. In one, fluid motion, he pulled the dress up and over her head, yanking until it released her arms. He flung the garment away and looked at her plain underthings.
"Take them off," he ordered.
"What?"
"The next time I tell you to do something and you ask me to repeat myself, I will make you regret it."
Her control slipped for a moment, but she regained it. Her shoulders squared and she raised her head to l face him.
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
"I heard what you said," she answered him. "But I am not going to do it."
He let out a low growl and grasped her shoulder, hard enough to bruise. He tore the bra from her, snapping the straps and tossing it away, leaving an angry red burn across her chest.
"No!" she said. She tried to push his hands away, but he brushed off her attempts. He forced her towards the bed and when her knees hit the side, he pushed her backwards so that she fell onto it. Holding her wrists above her head in one hand, he used the other to pull her panties down her legs.
"Lie still," he said. "That is a command."
With great effort, she forced herself not to scream or kick. She couldn't allow this brute to lie with her. She would fight him if it came to that. But now, he was only looking at her, taking in each curve and freckle. She had a small, moon-shaped scar on her wrist where she had burned herself on the stove. He brushed his fingers over it, considering. His hand splayed over her belly and she was afraid to breathe. He traced the curve of her hip with a thumb and she shivered.
