4. The Journey Begins
Emmalyn didn’t think this was a good idea. They had warned her about the dangers of both sides, about them both wanting her and eventually coming for her. She knew what he was, though; it was obvious enough to her. And he was handling her as though she were as light as a doll.
She landed gracefully enough on her rear instead of her feet. Emmalyn squeaked softly when he appeared near her. She would never get used to how quickly they could move.
“What do you want with me?” She asked him when he came to rest next to her.
She already knew the answer. She had heard the tales for as long as she could remember, that both sides would want her, that she would eventually tip the balance of power and give one side the advantage they needed to defeat the other. Part of her didn’t believe it , thinking it was just bedtime stories and fairy tales. Then, she came of age, and she could do the things the stories spoke of, the only one that could do them.
The pale faces in the crowd made a sharp lunge when the wagons lurched forward. In a blur of motion, one of Farrel’s brethren was on the back of the wagon, a few feet from him and the Emmalyn, ready to defend them. It was unnecessary, but it displayed just how trapped the little human was now. Her would-be rescuer had seized her.
Emmalyn let out a soft scream as she saw the pale ones make their move. The back of her legs hit a crate as she tried to move back. She made a soft, pained noise, but stayed down. Emmalyn curled up, trying to make herself as small as she could, her head bent over to touch her knees.
“Me?” he asked as he mocked innocence.
He seemed oblivious to the danger the vampires posed. Ignorance wasn’t what guided him. The guard had pressed into the marketplace, blocking the vampires’ approach. It left them with an open escape route right down the main street.
“I don’t actually want anything with you. I only have orders to follow. It may be little comfort to you, but whatever my people have planned for you will be a million times better than what they would have done.”
She looked up at him. This is what she was worried about her whole life. And now, it seemed there was no escaping it, at least not now. Emmalyn was nothing but a thing, an object. They viewed her as nothing more than what she could do. She, the person, wasn’t important. The only thing that they cared about was that they finally had the healer.
The wagons rolled from the marketplace and the pale faces disappeared altogether by the time they reached the second block. The guard was doing their part by delaying the vampires.
As they moved through the city, Farrel slid down and wedged his enormous frame between the crates with her. He stretched out on his side, slipping one powerful arm around her waist to drag her to him; his posture and firm but gentle grip displayed a protectiveness that wasn’t entirely necessary to accomplish his task.
Hours passed. The noise and stench of the city faded and gave way to the fresher, crisp air of the woodlands beyond Abenwae’s walls. The wind cut over the wagons, swirling snow and frosty air about. Emmalyn’s protector half rolled on her the first time she shivered, blanketing her in the feverish warmth his body radiated.
She was shivering, more from the situation than the actual temperature. But when he moved his arm around her and pulled her in close, she couldn’t help but feel a little safer. He was hard and soft all at the same time. She was very aware of how close he was and how his scent seemed to just move around them. It was that woodland small, clean forest.
As the time passed and the day wore onto night, she snuggled closer to him as he kept her warm. His arms and heat along with the gentle sway of the wagons soon eased her to sleep as she found her body fit against him, her form molding against him. Her chest would rise and fall with her breathing, pressing her body more against him with each inhale.
As night fell and a black stillness settled over the forest, the wagon trio moved off the roadway with a few jostling movements, then came to a stop. Farrel was off her in an instant, leaping from the wagon to the ground. She made a soft sound of protest when he moved, even though she didn’t wake fully just yet. His absence left a void of both his body and his heat. The crisp air invaded, and she was soon shivering, eyes opening to see where she was now. She could hear their voices off nearby, but she couldn’t see them in the darkness the night sky provided. The men spoke; their low guttural voices mentioning setting up camp to rest and hunt. They were far enough from the city and close enough to their own lands that the chances of any threat coming upon them were slim. After the brief discussion and a crude joke regarding who kept the girl warm, Farrel appeared beside the wagon again.
“We’re stopping for the night,” he explained, holding his hands out towards her in silent offering to help her up. “Are you hungry?”
His sudden appearance startled her, and she moved back away from him before she recognized him again. She relaxed a little and reached out her hand to take his. They were stopping. That was good. She already had ideas and plans ready in her head for when they weren’t watching her so closely. She needed to get away, get somewhere safe. Perhaps not home. Somewhere, anywhere, but here.
“Yes, a little.” She answered him softly.
She stood stiffly, her muscles and joints letting her know their displeasure for her lying so long on the cold wooden floor of the cart. He did more than just help her stand. His firm hands steadied her, then gripped tight around her narrow waist to lift her up out of the wagon and tucked one arm under her legs to carry her against his side as if she were a small child. The snow wasn’t so deep here under the thick forest, but he carried her through the few inches to where the others were treading out a camping area and building a fire. Normally, they only created a small smoke ring, a marker for them to find their way back easily when they hunted. But with their new bundle, they stacked thick logs, smothered them with dry tinder, and lit it up like a small bonfire.
Using his feet to wipe away a clear area away from the others, he finally set her on her feet. One of the other men tossed a heavy tarp to Farrel. It was not a comfortable blanket, but it would at least keep her separated from the cold ground.
“Bundle up,” he urged her as he slipped off the leather vest from his shoulders and wrapped it around her.
His skin was, as most wolves were, flawless. Not a scar upon his tanned flesh. Only a light coating of dark hair along his chest tapering down into a thin line southward. The tightly corded muscles bunched as he moved, turning away from her towards the edge of the clearing.
She sighed softly as his leather vest hung loosely around her. She was so tiny compared to him it was more like a coat than a vest. Still, she clung to it and held it around it, using some of the residual heat to keep herself warm. She couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over his striking form, having her eyes snap back to his so that she wouldn’t get caught.
“The others will hunt. I’ll return with food.”
With that assurance, he was gone, rushing into the trees before he let the wolf tear from him as silently as the painful process allowed.
“Alright…” she whispered as she watched him hurry off.
Her eyes, however, were drawn to the others as they stood around and leered at her. She could feel their eyes moving over her. Their hungry eyes drifted over her, muttering things to each other that put a dark light in their expressions. Within a minute, they were gone, rushing away to leave her unguarded so they could appease their own hunger. Horror stories of what their kind had done to humans that were caught out in the woods filled her mind. True or not, it didn’t matter. The fear that it propagated was there. She felt that very fear tighten around her heart and squeeze, sending more chills down her spine.
And then, just as quickly, they were gone, and she was standing there alone. She looked around as she heard the trees creak with the wind as it blew by. Then, as fast as she could go, she was running. She didn’t care where; all she knew was that she had to get away. Since she had fallen asleep in the back of the cart, she didn’t know where they were, but she knew where she needed to go. She had to reach the port; it was the only truly safe place for humans to go. She ran and ran until her legs burned fiercely from the exercise. Still, she didn’t stop. She had to get away, she just had to.