Shadow Walk

by
Devyn Quinn
 

© All rights reserved.

 

   
   

Daring to open her eyes, Adri could clearly see the face of the man who had led the attack. Dropping to one knee, he cursed softly under his breath, drawing a small dirk from its sheath in his belt.

She felt a chill as the pieces slowly came together in her mind. He’s going to kill me..

Writhing against her bonds, she cringed and tried to curl her body up into a ball when the tall warrior bent to cut the leather straps binding her wrists.

Only it was not her death he had on his mind.

Grabbing her arm, he lifted her to her feet then bent and levered her up onto his shoulder as though she was the weight of a feather. Taking the steps leading down from the platform two at a time, he plunged down into the melee, following his men as they retreated. Several of the men dragged captives from the battle, all of them female.

Writhing and twisting in protest, Adri attempted to escape her abductor. Dragged down long shadowy halls, she frantically beat at his back and flailed her legs, scratched at the walls, catching hold of anything that would help free her. Her fists pounded at his granite-like back. None of her efforts deterred her captor as he dragged her into the cold night.

The night mists danced playfully. Swirling amid a limitless boundary between ground and sky, the cumulus haze stretched over the land. A gossamer veil muting the senses, the mist was infused with a luminous glow. Shadow and shape were created as gentle currents of air ruffled its wispy cloak.

A guard keeping horses at the ready met the warriors.

Adri’s captor lowered her to the ground long enough to mount his horse. There was no saddle, only a set of reins to guide the snorting beast.

She immediately set her body into motion, trying to run, to escape, but he grabbed the long rope of braid that had worked itself free, slamming her back into the horse’s heaving body. The animal whinnied and pawed the ground, eager to run.

“You’ll not escape,” the warrior grunted angrily.

Bending down, he swiftly slid an arm under hers, bodily lifting her onto the horse and settling her neatly in front of him. She squirmed, but he grasped her wrists and stayed the attack with effortless grace.

Despite her almost hysterical anger, she felt her perfidious body responding to the hard, dominant pressure of his chest, hips, and thighs. Against her will, she uttered a few soft sobs of despair.

When he spurred the horse into action, she had no choice but to hold on or risk falling to be trampled under the thundering hooves. Her arms reflexively went around his thick neck, clutching tightly, so close to him she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, smell the sweat on his skin, and feel its intense heat.

Butt naked, wearing only a coat of sticky blood, she was grateful for the warmth he offered as they galloped across the landscape, each beat of the horses’ hooves taking her further away from her home territories.

 

 

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