This little sound left her, maybe outrage, but also maybe with a hint of desire.
“And I’ll keep filling you up until I put my baby right here.” He added a little pressure to her belly. He watched her chest rise and fall. “I don’t think you fully understand what it means to be mated to me, female. But you will, and very soon.”
Several days later
Audrey could have said she was too afraid of Styx to try to escape again, or that there was no hope of her getting down the mountain. She could even say the beasts out there in the wilderness had her too afraid to try to run. Audrey could have said that and more, but the truth was it wasn’t those things that kept her where she was, but the fact she was so confused by her own emotions concerning Styx that had her in this cave.
He had his back to her, was crouched on his haunches, cooking some kind of meat he’d caught just earlier this morning. Although he’d only been gone for an hour or so, and she probably could have explored more of the cavern that led to the outside, the truth was she’d been afraid. He’d told her she was safe being alone in the cave during the daylight hours because the most dangerous of predators came out at night. But of course all she thought about was that hideous creature that had wanted her as a meal.
Maybe Styx had known she wouldn’t try to leave. Maybe he’d known, even if there hadn’t been a beast intent on tearing her apart, that she didn’t know how in the hell to get down from this mountain.
Killing herself wasn’t an option, and she wasn’t even contemplating that. This set-up Styx had wasn’t horrible—isolated, lonely, yes, but he hadn’t forced himself upon her, hadn’t raped her, and she started to feel something stronger. She couldn’t understand it, didn’t even know if she wanted to. It scared her, confused her, but most of all frustrated her. Telling him she wasn’t a prisoner and would never be only had him nodding in agreement. Was he so blind and consumed with this whole “mating” thing he kept talking about that he didn’t see that keeping her here, knowing she couldn’t leave, was the same thing as having her behind bars or chained up?
She let her gaze linger over the bulging muscles of his back, at the definition, the pronounced strength. Styx should frighten her, realistically, because she knew how much stronger he was. There was no doubt he could crush her and not even think twice about it. But he’d cared for her, made sure she was healed. He’d tended to the wound at her side, and after the encounter with the winged beast, he’d washed her feet and spread this balm on her soles. And then he’d held her each and every night, wrapping his big body around hers and making her feel safe when maybe she shouldn’t, when maybe she should have fought harder.
How could she hate someone, even if he kept her here, when he’d only shown her compassion?
He stood and faced her, holding a stone platter with strips of meat on it. Her stomach growled at the sight, even if she’d seen the bizarre looking creature he’d dressed and cooked and was now serving her.
“Eat, mate,” he said in his gruff, very male voice. He came closer to her and sat down beside her, his focus trained on her, always on her.
There was a large bandage on his chest, right over the wounds. She’d been the one to clean his flesh and apply paste on the gouges. The paste had been what he’d given her, telling her it was formulated from the herbs of the forest, specializing in prompt healing. Where Audrey came from, there were herbs that had medicinal purposes, but nothing that would speed recovery.
Once again, this made her realize she was out of her element and had her feeling like she was in another world altogether.
Looking at his face for a second and then lowering her gaze back to his chest, she lifted her hand and touched the warm, firm flesh on his chest, right beside the bandage. She saw and felt him tense and stole another glance at his face. His gaze was still trained right on her, his eyes seeming hard, his body controlled.
“I just want to make sure it’s healing well,” she whispered. When she had the bandage pulled away, shock filled her. The wounds on his chest from the fight with that winged creature were not only closed, but also seeming completely healed, and in only a few short days.
“How is that possible?” she found herself saying more to herself than him.
This just solidified even more that he was not human. The wounds, which were only a few days old, should have still been raw, fresh. Or at least they should have been if he’d been of her species.