The Savage

“Open your eyes and look at me, female.”

He had a deep voice, feral in quality, and there was this slight scent. Audrey did as he said, not because he’d ordered her to, but because she knew she couldn’t pretend forever. She had to face this sooner or later. If he wanted her dead, he could have done it already. He could have left her out in the woods after she fell. He didn’t have to bring her to this place.

She opened her eyes, her hands in tight fists at her side, her heart feeling like it would burst right through her chest. And then she turned her head and looked at him, feeling her eyes widen at the beast of a man standing beside her. He appeared human … but not.

Swallowing the lump that instantly formed in her throat, all Audrey could do was take in the massive size of him. She was average height for a female at five foot six, not overly thin, but also not overweight seeing as her lifestyle didn’t afford copious amounts of food. But this man, this beast, had to be at least seven feet tall. His muscles looked stacked upon each other, and his eyes seemed to have this almost iridescent hue to them.

Like how a predator’s eyes glow when light flashes over them.

This man was not human, or at least not like any human male she’d ever seen.

He stared at her for long seconds, and then turned and headed to the fire. She looked at the back of him, how he was shirtless, the muscles pronounced, unrestrained. The pants he wore were dark leather and molded to his tree trunk-sized thighs snugly. When he turned around, she was looking right at his chest, at the dips, hollows, and the rolling hills of definition. Audrey was frightened, but she couldn’t help but appreciate how masculine he was.

When she lifted her gaze to his face, it was to see that same stoic, hard expression covering it. He looked dirty, like he’d been out in the woods foraging, hunting. Was he one of the “savages” the slavers had been shouting about?

“You must eat and drink,” he said and moved toward her.

She shifted backward as much as she could, given the pain she still felt. She winced when her side pulled again, but he was shoving a cup toward her. Looking between him and the mug, she didn’t want to accept it but didn’t want to upset him. He shoved it toward her again, his brows going down with annoyance clearly written on his face.

“Drink.” His voice had gone harder, and she found herself reaching out and taking the cup, her fingers brushing along his. A shiver moved up her spine at that small contact, and she quickly looked at the cup’s contents. The mug was made out of a horn of some animal she couldn’t identify, and the contents smelled sweet, but also having bitter afternotes.

“What is it?” she asked, looking at his face. His focus was on her mouth, and when he looked her in the eyes, she watched as his pupils dilated to take up nearly all of the iris.

“It’s herbs. It’ll help flush the toxins out and ease the pain.”

Toxins?

She thought back to running from the slavers and remembered when she’d gotten hit with something on her side. It must have been tipped with poison.

“Drink,” he said again, more determined, his voice deeper, darker.

Audrey glanced down at the horn cup, her throat tight at the thought of drinking it.

He could have killed you easily already.

Audrey brought the cup to her mouth and took a small sip. Just like it smelled, the liquid was sweet, but had bitter afternotes.

“All of it,” the man barked out, and Audrey tipped the cup back and drank the rest of it. She handed the horn back to him, and he gave a grunt of approval. He stepped away from her, disappearing behind a rock outcropping, and she pushed herself up even more.

Glancing around the cave once more, she took note that there was a pallet set up across from where she was, placed on a raised rock podium. A few primitive-looking chairs and even a table were on the other side of that. To her left, she could only see the cave, and to the right it was no different, although light filtered from where the man had disappeared.

After a few moments, Audrey felt the pain in her side start to diminish, and she glanced down, pushing away the animal fur so she could see her wound. She didn’t have her auction gown on anymore, but she did wear a loose shirt-type tunic. The openings for her arms were cut larger than normal, and chilled air moved along her exposed flesh. Pulling the material aside, she could see an off-white bandage covering where her wound was. Gritting her teeth as she pulled back the material, she saw there were thick leaves and a grayish paste over the wound. A small amount of blood could be seen mixed in with the gunk on it, but there was almost no pain.