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That she hadn’t expected the human male to show such concern was, strangely, the largest shocker of the many shocking things that had assaulted her since she fled the stronghold. For the umpteenth time in her life, she cursed her father’s name and every vile prejudiced dogma he’d worked so hard to indoctrinate her with.
This human male was far from the creatures she was afraid she’d encounter, and perhaps that was another reason for her worry entirely. If humans didn’t behave as she’d always been taught, then what other falsehoods had also been painted as truths?
Goodness, it was too much to sort out, and her head hadn’t stopped spinning since she’d awoken beneath that . . . Come to think of it, he hadn’t even told her his name yet, and she, likewise, hadn’t shared hers. She’d just been so relieved to have found him. And to have that male be so well-suited for her cause and clearly honorable enough that he would surely aid her? It had all been so fortuitous, so she’d only bothered with the most pressing details while she still had the strength to declare them.
Her body jostled in his arms when the male turned her to the side as if to fit through a doorway. The blindfold had been a requirement of his aid, he’d said. While her wolf fiercely whined her protestations against having one of her senses taken away, what choice did Clara have? Whatever adrenaline had bolstered her awake from the river had long since left her. She could barely sit up on her own, let alone make the journey back to her stronghold. Yes, Clara may have been brash to flee as she had, but she wasn’t so entirely stupid to refuse help, especially when the one doing the offering held far more cards in his hands than she hers, at least until she could get her strength back.
Behind the torn strip of her cloak that was now a makeshift blindfold he’d fastened around her eyes, a light flared, poking through the tiny holes in the fibers. Her heart kicked up a strange beat, and she realized that disappointment had begun to pour into her on the heels of whatever light had been ignited around them.
Yes, there was a certain exhilaration that came with being blindfolded. Because, as the human settled her on top of a strange bed and gently removed the cloth from her eyes, the familiar dismay that had chased her into the forest in the first place returned to cast its pall over her circumstances.
“Where have you taken me?” She winced at the obvious weakness in her voice and was surprised her words managed to carry to the stranger at all. Judging by his expression, he’d heard her just fine.
Had that squeaky rasp really come from her? Gosh, she could barely lift her limbs and use her hands to accentuate her words, as was a habit of hers when she was nervous. Even the slight blanket that the male had settled around her shoulders felt as if it weighed as much as the mountains around them.
“Someplace to get you healed up enough so we can have a conversation.”
Clara looked around and squinted through the harsh light of the compact room she found herself in. The bed was small and caged by bracketing arms that the human drew up and locked into place. Beyond the bed, along the walls, were counters and cabinets made of highly polished materials that looked nothing like the marble, wood, and stone she was used to seeing when it came to that type of carpentry. Small glass jars sat in neat rows along the far edge of one counter, while a strange pole with hooks stood erect in the corner at the foot of the bed. A fresh pile of white and cream linens rested on top of a nearby chair. The human grabbed a second blanket from the stack and laid this one across her.
Heated. Oh, Moon Mother, the blanket was heated.
Clara and her wolf sank into the warmth that had been wrapped around her as though it was the softest cotton imaginable. She could have fallen asleep right there had it not been for the heavy steps that followed the male into the room.
Good Lord, there were more of them. And they were huge! Three males as large as any of her father’s private guards filled out the small room so immensely, she worried whether there’d be enough air to go around.
The first male sported a russet-brown beard as thick as his shoulders and as coarse as the expression twisting his face. Hair of equal thickness and surprising length was pulled into a knot at the back of his head. Deep red and green flannel covered his mountainous body, though, oddly, the sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing two wide brown leather cuffs bracketing each wrist like bracers. There was little comfort in his countenance, which caused Clara to shift uneasily beneath the blanket. He didn’t simply acknowledge her. No, his stare was deeper, more insistent, as if he was marking her, tracking her.
The other male behind him was equally tall but far leaner and lighter in physique and coloring. Blond hair so pale it nearly matched her own stood in short sweeping waves down the middle, while the sides were closely shorn. His umber gaze settled upon her, and though the first male’s dual-colored eyes stayed pinned to her like the intruder she was, the second human’s expression was softer, painted with what she might call a sad recognition of sorts. He even offered her a small smile as he looked around the room with what she could only describe as resigned familiarity.
Then the third human stepped over the threshold and stole what little breath remained in her tired lungs. He prowled into the room with enough self-assurance and sense of command to convince even the ocean to shift its tides if he asked it to do so. Honeyed blond hair dusted the tips of his powerful shoulders and the others moved to the side to make way for him.
This was a king. Clara had no idea how she knew it, but her whole body vibrated with the knowledge that she was in the presence of absolute authority. Should she bow? No, a curtsy was more appropriate, but he wore no rings to kiss, nor any outward symbols of his position, though it was clear just from being near him that he was someone of importance. She fidgeted, urging her weak body to rise from the bed so she could search for a way to pay her respect to a foreign leader and plead for further aid, but the auburn-haired male who had brought her there simply settled his hands on her shoulders and urged her back down.
“You’re not ready for prime time yet. Sit back, sip on this slowly,” he warned her with more than words as he handed her a small bottle of water, “and I’ll make introductions.” He eased to his full height and nodded around the room with a casualness that would have garnered severe repercussions had they been back in her father’s territory. “These are some of my brothers and extended family. The one with the ugly face and uglier attitude is Iron, Rhode’s the sun-starved blond, and the big guy in the middle with a conditioner fetish is Tungsten.”
Clara froze, uncertain how to behave following that caliber of introduction. Surely, they were aristocracy or esteemed guardians of some sort, or likely both. But the way he mentioned their odd names, it was as if they were at schoolyard recess. Were the upper echelon of humans always so informal?
At a loss for how to behave and what to do, she smiled and dipped her head, hoping that, if it was not the appropriate response, she would at least be forgiven for her actions, as they could be attributed to her weakness.
“And you, warrior?” She whispered the question, taking a chance that her assumptions were correct. “That is what you are, is it not? A warrior of the human race? What is your name?” She winced at her directness, then lifted the water to her mouth lest any more inappropriate questions come flying out of it.
A few coughs bounced around the room, and a deep flush colored the male’s cheeks. He glared back at the humans behind him before turning to her. “I’m Bronze. Yes to the first part.” Then he paused for a moment and trained his hard eyes on her as he said, “No to the second.”
Clara slowly lowered the water from her mouth. “I’m sorry?” Surely, she hadn’t heard him right.
The blond leader took that opportunity to step forward. “And what may we call you? I gather you are not entirely human yourself. Before you answer,” he said, holding up his hand, “know that no harm will come to you here, provided you mean none to us.”
“H-harm?” Oh, no, what had she walked into? “I, uh, would never harm anyone,” she tried to shout in a defensive tone that would have been more effective if her lungs hadn’t been doing their utmost just to gather breath into her chest. “You mean you are not humans? Are these not the human lands?”
Worried glances bounced from male to male, and her heart sputtered warning beats within her chest. Her wolf growled against her bones, pressing her harder and harder to shift, to flee. It was only the growing chaos in her mind that kept her from focusing on the change.
“No. No, this can’t be right,” she breathed out shakily. “The merchant said to search for the stone circle. Find the stone circle, and I’ll find the human lands.” Clara squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recall the exact words.
“Once the stronghold fits into the L of your hand, follow the stream west until its waters churn into the river. When the runoff reaches the stone circle, look above and find the bridge that will take you to the humans.”
She’d done that. She’d reached all those markers, had seen every one of them. She should have made it. Had she taken a wrong turn? But, no, she awoke beneath the stone circle, and the river . . .
Tungsten stepped forward next to the male at her side, until her bed was blocked in by a wall of male shoulders even her wolf at full strength had no hope of fighting through.
