travelers was observing how they’d treated what she’d then believed were prisoners but now understood had been their slaves. At that point, she’d never seen one human treat another as if he was a beast of burden. Because she and her companions had gone out without their parents’ permission, they hadn’t said anything about their discovery. But Chief Cheyah, who’d done a great deal of traveling in his early years and knew many things, had left everyone with a clear if unpleasant image.
Slaves were considered less than human. Their needs and desires meant little to their owners, who handled their possessions as they saw fit. The slaves Jola had observed as an adolescent had been fairly well treated. At least she’d seen no beatings and the chains linking wrists and ankles together didn’t look to be overly tight. Granted, a slave wouldn’t be able to run, but he could walk without risking falling.
And walk they did. Of the five male and three female slaves, not one had ever been allowed to ride the strange animals.
What had bothered her the most was the slaves’ unkempt appearance. They’d plodded with their heads down, and when their masters addressed them, they’d shrunk back, obviously afraid. Once, while in Falcon form, she’d flown close. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to hear what the slaves were saying to each other. A female slave had looked upward and, for an instant, life and light had transformed the dull eyes. Then, as if the female had reconciled herself to what she couldn’t change, her eyes had filmed over again.
Later, a man had come up behind the female and roughly yanked her short dress up, tucking the hem under the cord that sufficed as a belt. Immediately, the female had stopped and leaned forward with her hands on her thighs and her legs spread. Without a word being said, the man had buried his cock in the female’s folds. Instead of the gentle words Raci had used with her, this man had grunted loudly while slapping defenseless buttocks and reaching around to squeeze a dangling breast.
At least he’d come quickly. As for the female, Jola had had no doubt that she’d gained no pleasure from the coupling.
Jola now had been running long enough that even her superbly conditioned muscles were beginning to tire. Smelling the lake, she slowed so she could enjoy the scent. So much life grew and lived near the shore. The surface was never devoid of birds, and she could only guess how many fish lived in its depths. Most days rafts and canoes floated on it, either because a Falcon in human form was fishing or simply relaxing there. Ever since the newcomers had taken possession of the sunset side, however, the only time anyone ventured into the lake was to fill cooking pots or bathe. And no one ever went alone.
Slowing to a walk that allowed her heart rate to return to normal, she mentally returned to the one time she and Raci had sought solitude here. They’d chosen a small inlet flanked by reeds on all sides. After making sure they had the inlet to themselves, they’d self-consciously removed their clothes and slipped, shivering a little, into the water.
“The final mating ceremony can’t come soon enough for me,” Raci had said as he reached for her. He might have been aiming for her arms, but when his fingers brushed her breasts, she didn’t try to shrug him off. “I have to ask if you’re certain you feel the same way, Falcon girl. I’ll be enough for you?”
“Don’t call me that,” she’d chided. “My name is Jola.”
“Be proud of our heritage.”
“I am, just as I know you are. But when we’re in human form and together, all I care about is being a woman, a woman who is with the man she loves.”
As their arms floated around each other, lips had met, and she’d bent and locked her legs around him. His cock had found her opening, and she’d contented herself with the moment. At least she’d tried. Still, a part of her had stood apart to ponder the complexity of their existence until his warmth and weight and pulsing need filled her hungry hole and became everything.
Sex was belonging. Raci was hers, and she lived to be with him.
Until the day he’d bled until he had nothing left to bleed.
Trusting instinct to guide her now that tears blurred her vision, Jola reached the edge of the lake and walked into it. Cool mud slipped between her toes. After a few more steps, water began caressing her ankles and then her calves. Seeking solace, she continued until the water washed over and between her legs. When it lapped at her buttocks, she acknowledged that the water had imprisoned her. But the lake was more than a force preventing her from fleeing. It was also touch, proof that she was still alive.
Promise. Please let this life-giving water bring me peace.
3
Were there water fairies in Screaming Wind? On the tail of his question, Nakos reminded himself that if there were such things, surely someone would have seen one by now. The likely explanation was that he’d been in the right place at the right time to spot a naked Wilding female enter the lake.
From where he crouched behind a thick bush, the bright sunlight gave the creature an almost transparent appearance as if he was looking at her through a thin layer of water. Her back was to him, affording him a view of loose black hair that reached her shoulder blades. He’d never seen such thick hair, straight and glistening from the sun’s touch. When he’d first spotted her standing at the shoreline with water caressing her feet and ankles, he’d been hesitant to breathe for fear of drawing attention to himself.
There’d been something unworldly about the way she carried herself, youth and strength woven together, that made it difficult for him to accept her as mortal. Her legs were impossibly long and, from what he’d been able to tell before she entered the lake, deeply muscled. Her arms, too, were long, her shoulders wider than any Ekewoko woman’s. She’d yet to turn toward him so he could only guess at what her breasts looked like. Hopefully they were in keeping with her narrow waist and lushly rounded hips and buttocks.
Graceful step by graceful step, she’d made her way into the lake until it now reached her waist. Waiting to see what she’d do next, he tried to formulate a plan. She was a Wilding. As such, he should be planning how to capture her. Once he’d accomplished that, he’d turn the creature over to Tau and Sakima who, he had no doubt, could compel her to tell them everything they wanted to know, whatever those things were. But how could he concentrate on practical matters when he’d never expected to see anyone like her? Granted, he’d come out here in search of a Wilding, but it had been days since one had been seen near the lake. Why she’d exposed herself this way mystified him.
It wouldn’t for long. Once he’d captured her, he’d force the truth from her, although from the looks of her, maybe that would wait until he’d used her to satisfy his sexual hunger.
Instead of the sense of power he expected at the thought of molding her to his needs, he felt unsure. It had to be, he told himself, because he was still learning about this land and the possibility of unknown danger lurking in its shadows. Just as a chill touched his spine, he reminded himself of the open land all around. He’d been here any number of times and had yet to see the slightest hint of a threat. From what everyone had determined, the Wildings were shy and peaceful, more like deer than wolves. Granted, he occasionally sensed he was being watched, but whenever he looked around, he saw nothing except a hawk or other bird of prey.
Instead of measuring the distance between him and the lakeshore, he recalled Tau’s and Sukimo’s reaction to what he’d told them about seeing a bird that flew so fast it was nothing but a blur—and an expert killer. They’d been both excited and nervous but had refused to explain why his description mattered so much to them.
What hadn’t they shared
