The tunnel air was dank and musty. She had to squint to see clearly in some spots. All the while she searched for some alcove to slip into. There were none. When they made it back to the wider entrance of the cave, Joselyn was surprised to see the dragon lounging upon its belly, planted in the spot most exposed to sunshine. Somehow it looked almost serene.
Hollen casually approached the beast. It ignored him as he climbed onto its back and began unlashing a pack from its saddle. So it was a saddle. The man hadn’t lied. He really had mastered the dragon. Joselyn fingered her pendant as she watched him work.
Maybe he’s not a man at all. Though he does look like one. A very large, fierce man.
He leapt to the ground and unwrapped a magnificent gray fur cloak from the pack. He shook it out as he approached her.
“What sort of creature produced this garment?” she asked. She leaned away as though it held some foul magic.
“Dire wolf.”
Joselyn eyed it, barely able to keep her mouth from falling open. Dire wolves were ferocious creatures, and only the greatest of hunters could boast of killing one. But then, such a feat probably meant little to a man who could command a dragon.
“Your cloak is wet. Take it off.”
Joselyn wanted nothing from this man. When she didn’t move, he reached for her broach as though he meant to remove her clothes himself. She jerked away and hastily unclasped the drenched garment. He swung the dry pelt over her narrow shoulders. It swallowed her up, instantly warming her.
“Come, I’ll make us a fire.” He hoisted a large pack which he’d removed from his mount and started back down the tunnel. Joselyn stayed where she was. Should she keep following?
Hollen glanced back. “Unless you’d rather spend the evening with Jagomri.”
At the mention of its name, the great serpent cracked a single yellow eye. Joselyn shivered when its gaze rested on her. Without a word, she skittered after her captor. Her eyes bored into his back. Was he truly mad? He didn’t seem so, but then, she barely knew him. They were silent as they moved, and Joselyn considered repleading her case.
No. Not yet. “The man who understands his opponent best, wins.” Her father’s words played in her mind. She needed answers.
They reached the place where he’d cornered her, and Hollen led her along the wall until they reached an inlet. A crude natural staircase had been cut by ancient ice and they followed it to the plateau above. Up and over they trekked until they were hiking downward again. As the minutes passed, the air grew warmer and the moss upon the walls thicker.
She swallowed. “Where are your people?”
Hollen glanced back at her, his expression neutral. “They live on the mountain, in a cave system called Bedmeg.”
“Are any of them here?”
“No. Just you and I tonight.”
Tonight. Joselyn’s step faltered. “Where are you taking me?”
“Amo Tanshi.”
Surely he knew those words meant nothing to her. “For what purpose?”
“Bonding.”
“What does that mean?”
He slowed and Joselyn had to stop to keep from walking into him. The tunnel was so narrow now, his broad shoulders brushed the sides. A soft glow appeared ahead as he turned to her. He scratched at the back of his head, his face drawn like he was searching for the right words. Joselyn’s wariness flared.
“I’ll give you my tanshi mark of bonding. You’ll bear it upon your flesh just as I will. Then we’ll go to my people and live as one.”
At his words, Joselyn’s spine stiffened. Hollen grimaced, then continued down the tunnel. Joselyn stood frozen.
Bear it on your flesh? What in the swiving hells did that mean?
Fresh light filled the tunnel as Hollen stepped through the passage and disappeared from view.
What grim fate awaited her? Joselyn considered scrambling back up the tunnel, away from this savage man. She couldn’t go back to the dragon. If she tried to hide, the barbarian would find her. Even if she could outrun him, which he’d already proven she couldn’t, there was nowhere else to go. She’d kept an eye open for alternate routes on their way down here. There’d been none. Heart pounding, Joselyn crept toward the light. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.
A wide, grassy cavern lay stretched out. The air smelled sweet, and a waterfall burbled as it trickled into a nearby shallow pool. Though the cave was covered, holes let in enough light to feed a verdant, twisting tree near the center of the meadow. Joselyn marveled at the dreamlike scene, the fertile beauty hidden away so far above the earth.
Hollen must have jumped down from the little ledge at the entrance because he stood there, waiting for her. When he held up a hand to assist her, she pulled back and clutched the tunnel wall. Without a word, he continued to the tree and dumped his heavy pack to the ground. He busied himself with unrolling it, seeming to pay her no attention at all.
Joselyn stood, her feet rooted to the stony ground. What a coward she must look like. If the barbarian glanced at her now, he’d see her cowering like a terrified rabbit. What would that do for her? How would she reason with him then?
She jerked away from the wall and clenched her fists. She’d been robbed of enough this day. She’d be keeping her pride.
4
Joselyn Helena Elise Fury
Hollen’s pack hit the earth with a dull thud. He removed his axe from its holster and set it gently against the tree. Across the knoll, his bride remained fixed at the entrance. Unwilling to follow. He wanted to look at her, wanted to take advantage of every opportunity to know her more deeply. He thought of her red hair, the freckles scattered across her pale flesh, the pink glow of cold upon her nose, and the pleasing dimple in her chin. She was more beautiful than he could have hoped for, but she was afraid of him. And for that reason he set about building a fire, pointedly ignoring her until she decided to approach him. After all, there was nowhere else for her to go.
The meadow held sacred meaning for his people. Since the birth of the mountain, it played host to the joining of all Dokiri unions. Helig herself, Goddess of the Earth, had planted the joining altar beneath the tree he now sat beside. It was a shining sheet of black granite, set a few feet above the ground. His heart raced at the thought of laying his bride upon it and making her his.
Will she fight me?
He hoped to Regna she would not. There was no going back now. He’d chosen Joselyn from the multitude of women in the lowlands to be his wife. It was a choice he’d only make once, and now she must bear the consequences. It was his duty to carve the bonding mark into her flesh and make her acceptable to his gods. If not, he’d call a curse upon his people too terrible to imagine. She was on his mountain now. She was his responsibility. His reward.
Though Hollen had always known this would be the way of his bonding, he realized now that he’d spent very little time over the years considering what it would actually be like. He couldn’t be different from most Dokiri riders in that he’d spent the majority of his time thinking of the many nights after he’d won her heart.
Hollen’s blood heated as he pictured what it would be like to have her beneath him, shaking from want instead of fear. The image was so much more potent now he knew what his bride looked like. He grimaced. Thus far, reality had been far less enticing. She thought him a monster. He could hardly blame her, and the worst was yet to come.