I just headed away from the lights of the Daxshee into the bright, moonlit stone and dark brush of what appeared to be mostly wasteland around it.

I had no plan. I had nothing on my mind.

Except escape.

My side hurt. My feet hurt. My neck hurt. My ass hurt. I needed a fucking bra. But I didn’t care. I just ran.

And ran.

And freaking ran.

Then I heard the hoof beats behind me, steady, fast, pounding into the rock and I knew the Dax had triumphed against scary, huge, cruel warrior.

I didn’t have to look.

The Dax was coming after me.

I knew it.

I ran faster, sprinting, the pain in my side agonizing but I kept going as fast as I could.

The horse’s hooves got closer; I knew they were almost upon me.

Frantic, I glanced back and saw I was right. Not only were they close, the man, the rider, so huge he seemed giant, had leaned so deeply to the side, his body was in line with the horse’s middle.

And his long arm was stretched out.

I faced forward and tried to run faster.

But I couldn’t go any faster and I certainly couldn’t go faster than a horse.

I cried out when the arm hooked me at the waist, closed around and lifted me clean off my feet before my ass was planted on the horse in front of him.

Without thinking, I screamed bloody murder, twisted on the still running horse and prepared, instead of running for my life, to fight for it.

He had an arm around me, the other hand dropped the reins and he went for the chain at his waist.

I lifted my hands, nails bared, and went for his eyes.

I caught the flash of the surprise that slashed across his dark, painted features before he abandoned the chain and his hold on my waist, he reared back and caught my wrists before my nails reached their target.

I took that opportunity to slide off the slowing horse.

Doing this, he was forced to let go or come down with me. I hit feet first, pain shooting through my ankles and up my calves and I dropped because of it, rolled, found my feet again and started to run.

The horse came back at me but this time, I was prepared. When I glanced back and saw him this close, I ducked under his arm. Him and his horse shot passed me and I instantly changed directions and ran the other way.

I seemed to be making some headway and I heard no horse but was stopped when a steely arm wrapped around my waist, lifted me off my feet and whirled me around.

Shit, he was off his horse. And shit again, he could run without sound.

I bucked violently then kicked my feet out even more violently.

His arm loosened, my feet hit stone and I tried to run but he caught me up again. I whirled in his hold and lunged in the small space, bracing against a foot I planted behind me, I shoved with all my weight.

His torso rocked back, his arm loosened again, I took three quick, giant steps back then he lunged. There was more of him than me and it was more powerful. He tackled me and I landed on my back, him on top of me.

Grunting, straining and struggling, I fought, pushed, kicked, scratched and bit.

I was no match.

Not even close.

Subduing me with his body, one arm and his heavy legs, his other hand came up and he hooked his chain to my necklace.

Damn it all to hell, I knew what that meant.

My back arched and I screamed with all my might the frustrated rage that surged through my system.

But even chained to him, knowing it was a fight I’d never win, I didn’t give up.

My hand went to his waist, I found the hilt of the knife and pulled it free, whipping it back but he disarmed me before I could take that first slash. Then his own hand went to the other knife, pulled it out and tossed it away.

Damn.

I still didn’t give up. I kept fighting.

Nails, teeth, screams, punches, bucking, kicking… nothing worked.

He succeeded in positioning himself, hips between my legs then he yanked the edges of the material covering me aside so roughly, both sides tore away from my necklace, leaving me fully exposed My back arched again as I screeched, “No! ” right in his face and didn’t give up.

His hands caught my wrists, yanking them over my head, one hand transferring both of my wrists to be imprisoned in just one of his big hands, his other hand went down between our bodies.

“Please, no!” I cried as I kept struggling, his hand worked at his hides and I knew what he was doing, I felt him hard against me.

“Please, please, please, no.”

His head came up, his eyes caught mine, the whites so white against the black of his paint, his hand at my wrists squeezed hard, causing pain, my back to the stone causing more, I gave him the only fight I had left.

I glared at him.

He held my glare for long moments.

Then, his eyes never leaving mine, he whispered, “Lahnahsahna.”

Then his head bent, he shoved his face in my neck and he violated me.

* * * * *