“Because.” He could have elaborated, could have told her exactly why she wasn’t going to leave, but she was already upset. Telling her anything right now would make it worse. But clearly her anger rose inside of her like an angry beast. She clenched her jaw, and anticipating what she was going to do, Styx leaned to the side just as she threw the mug at him. Droplets of the hot liquid splashed on his bare arm, but there was no pain. The mug clanked against the cavern wall before falling to the ground and rolling back toward him.
He didn’t speak, wasn’t upset either. She was afraid and angry, and lashing out was her way of getting her fear out. But what Styx did do was stand, walk over to her, and stop when he was a foot from where she sat. He was a feared creature, had been in his tribe, but also in the outside world. He liked it that way. It gave him strength, let others know he was a predator. But he didn’t want his mate to be afraid. And she was his mate, his wife, and would be the mother of his babies.
“Tell me, you asshole.” She was on the verge of tears now, the scent of a cool breeze after it rained filling his head. “You might have saved my life, but keeping me here is wrong.”
Maybe it was, but Styx was a bastard in all ways, and he wanted this female with a ferocity that rivaled even the deadliest of beasts in this part of the world.
“You want to know why I won’t let you leave?” She didn’t answer, but he didn’t expect her to. Styx took another step toward her and crouched on his haunches so they were face to face. He lowered his gaze to her lips and watched as she licked them. “I won’t let you leave because I plan on making you my mate, on having you as my wife.” Her eyes widened even further, and although she was shocked, the scent lingering in the air was like sweet, dried fruit. It was that flash of curiosity that was the strongest. He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, her skin warm, soft. She couldn’t move away, not with her back to the wall. “And here—” He lowered his hand down her neck, between her breasts, and placed his open palm right over her belly. “Here is where my babies will grow.”
Was Audrey hearing this man right? He was claiming she was his mate? He was keeping her here to make her his wife, to impregnate her? She was not a vessel. God, was this any better than being with the slavers? The man who’d bought her at the auctions if she’d stayed would have used her. It seemed that was exactly how things would work here, as well.
No, Audrey couldn’t be a vessel for some … beast. He might appear to be human, but Audrey knew he was far from it. He was still so close, and she couldn’t find the strength to actually try to move from him. Audrey stared into his dark eyes. His face had smears of dirt covering it, and his hair, on the longer side, was unkempt and fell to his chin. The front of him was just as impressive as the back, with all the muscles on display. He did have a few tattoos marring his flesh, ones that were mainly made up of lines placed together and in patterns. She didn’t know what they meant, but she could assume they had something to do with where he was from. And then there were the scars that couldn’t be hidden by the ink. The raised skin was along his arms and upper chest, and for a split second she wondered how he’d gotten them.
Probably fighting and defeating some hideous creature.
But Audrey shouldn’t have been thinking about anything but leaving this man and this place. She wasn’t going to be a prisoner, not to the slavers, the man who’d purchased her, or this barbarian. She might not know where she was going to go, or if she’d even survive the foreign wilderness, but she had to try.
With his huge hand on her belly, his palm seeming to take up the entire area, all she felt was this tingling in her gut, this fluttering in her chest. Why did she feel like this? Why didn’t she feel disgust and anger that this savage wanted to keep her as some kind of pet?
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked, his focus on her mouth, his voice so deep she swore she felt it vibrate throughout her entire body. His breath was warm and smelled sweet, like cinnamon and herbs. The tendrils of her hair moved along her cheek every time he exhaled.