Authors: Lydia Michaels
The horse began to move,
its hooves pounding out an unmistakable cadence in the night. It was as though
each gallop sung the words so long, so long, so long.
They traveled for such a
grueling length of time she’d fallen asleep. She awoke as he yanked her from
the horse.
He took his rights that
evening in the center of a field with no shelter and barely a word to
acknowledge that she was a living-breathing thing. He held her close afterward
and she cried. There was no affection in his hold, only possessiveness. In the
morning he roughly grabbed her face, remarking about the bruise he left there,
as if she had been careless to allow it to happen.
They traveled for so
many days that Adriel slowly accepted with an incredible ache in her belly,
that she would never see her loved ones again. She only hoped that they
realized, had she had the choice, she would have stayed to say she loved them
one last time.
They arrived in a small
village and stayed for a while. Each night and sometimes throughout the day he
would claim her. He never spoke to her and when they stopped to eat, he tossed
scraps to her like a dog. It must have been a fortnight since they’d left. She
still did not know his name.
When he needed to feed,
he sometimes took from her as he satisfied his other needs, and sometimes from
whores he brought back to their shelter.
She hated him. She hated
that he did not talk to her. She hated that he never looked on her kindly. She
hated that an ache had formed between her thighs from his rough handling that
never had time to heal. And she hated that she was jealous of the whores he
used, because when they lay together he sometimes heard a gruff sound escape
his throat that she assumed was laughter. Why could he be pleasant to strangers
when cruelty was all he ever showed her?
They eventually moved
on. They settled in one village than another, until Adriel lost all sense of
time and place. She no longer cared where they were or where they were going.
Sometimes she tried to remember the soft, clean scent of her baby brother’s
hair, but as more time passed, the more surreal those memories became.
He only called her girl
and after several years she found it difficult to recall her name. All of the
business he’d spoke of never came, or if it did Adriel did not see it commence.
They settled only to
move on again. Settle and move on—over and over. She cooked, laundered his
clothing, and stitched the holes that needed stitching. Some days, if she
talked, her voice was so neglected she had trouble forming words. She lived in
her thoughts, which had ceased being healthy long ago.
When they reached the
Kingdom of Leon they settled and to her surprise, he declared it home. It
wasn’t until the first cycle of the moon that she saw a change in him. It was
as if he had grown tired and finally, after so many years, decided to relax.
One evening she had
served him dinner and he was quiet. “Sit with me, girl.”
Surprised by the
invitation, she hesitantly lowered herself to the bench. He ate and stared at
her. His introspective mood unnerved her more than she already was in his
presence. He said not a word, but ate and ate, chewing and watching her as if
waiting for her to do or say something. Adriel had nothing to say. No one had
talked to her in years.
“Your hair is the color
of the devil,” he stated after a long sip of ale.
She supposed she would
be punished for that as well. Her body tensed in preparation for whatever was
to come.
“Why do you not speak,
girl?”
She looked at him,
afraid to answer and afraid not to. “I do not know what you want me to say.”
“Say your name.”
She had to think in
order to recollect the word her family called her. “Adriel.”
“Adriel what?”
“Adriel…” She had to
think. “Schrock.”
His eyes narrowed and
her spine tucked instinctively, protecting her body, preparing to pull into a
ball if he struck.
“No,” he said
dangerously low. “That is not your name. You belong to me and therefore have my
name.”
“I do not know your
name,” she whispered.
His brow twitched as if
he had not realized this. “It is Cerberus Maddox. You may call me Cer.” He had
said Cer, but she was never sure how he intended it.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take off your frock.”
* * * *
They remained in
Portugal. Adriel liked watching the mortals during the day. She sometimes, from
her window, caught sight of other immortals. Seeing those of her kind brought
about an incredible ache of homesickness.
Once, she saw a male
immortal with black hair and black eyes. He looked back to her and she knew he
saw her too, knew what she was. She waited for days to see him again, but he
never came. She convinced herself she had imagined the black haired immortal.
One afternoon Cer had
left on business and she spent the day at the window again. She could only go
to the window when he was not there.
Cer did not like her
watching the people go by. That was when she saw the dark haired immortal male
again. Her mouth opened and he stared at her from across the thoroughfare. He
was a beautiful male.
Eleazar.
The word
intruded in her mind as though purposely sent there. Was that his title?
The sound of a strange
male’s voice in her head caused her to gasp. That had never happened before.
She sat back and stared at him. Had he done that?
What is your name, girl?
She recoiled at the
title girl, but there was something so different in the way he used the term
from the way Cer used it.
She did not know how to
project her thoughts.
She simply thought her name.
Adriel.
Good afternoon, Adriel.
Her chest swelled at the
sound of her name in someone else’s voice. She wished he would say it again
only so her ears could hear it.
“What did I tell you
about sitting by that window?”
Adriel jerked and turned
around only to find Cer standing behind her, a menacing expression on his face.
“Learn a new trick today, girl?”
The shutters slammed,
although he did not move a muscle. The candles flickered to light in the dark
cottage and she gasped. “Need I tell you what I think of you allowing another
male into your head?”
She shook with fear.
Where had he come from? How had he known? Her clothes were suddenly ripped from
her body, only he still had not moved.
“Look at yourself.
Everything you see belongs to me.”
Pain engulfed her from
an unseen hand clamping down on her sex. She screamed only to have her voice
strangled into silence.
Gasping, she choked, and
stared at her laughing mate through teary eyes. Never had she imagined such
viciousness as the day he showed her how powerful he truly was and she assumed
that was the worst he could possibly do. She was wrong.
She had been beaten so
many times she had lost the will to live. Time passed in increments of aching
moments of consciousness. She was certain she would have died a hundred deaths
at Cer’s hand had she not been immortal. She wished just once he would strike
her hard enough to decapitate her and end her miserable existence.
One evening, as she lay
on the dirt floor in a puddle of her own bodily fluids, Cer abruptly stood. She
flinched and whimpered. He walked to the door and yanked it open. Her heart
painfully stuttered in her chest when she saw Eleazar standing in the doorway.
“No,” she whimpered. She
was in so much pain and this male’s presence would only anger Cer more.
Eleazar spotted her on
the floor and tried to go to her, but Cer held him back, a look of death in his
eyes. Eleazar stilled and said something to Cer, but she could no longer make
out their words. Her ear had been boxed and sound seemed worlds away from her
swollen head.
Finally, she passed out.
When she awoke she was shocked to find herself in a bed. There was no security
in waking in such a place, only fear and distrust.
Cer did not look at her
for days. He did not speak and slowly her body began to heal as it always did.
The more time that passed, the more she became on edge. She dare not allow
herself to grow comfortable in his presence. He was a monster and she would
never see him as anything but.
It took many nights for
him to hit her again. Once he’d started, it seemed he had much lost time to
make up for. He’d raped her, hit her, humiliated her, sodomized her, and bit
her, feeding against her will, but she never once shed a tear. He was not worth
her tears. Her tears were for the ones she loved.
As she lay battered on
the floor, naked, and splotched with imprints of his hand, the door burst open.
She did not flinch. She did not care. She only wanted to die.
Cerberus roared and
flung into motion, attacking whoever intruded in his home, but there were too
many of them. Immortals, all immortals, came into the small shelter and held
Cer down, dealing blow after blow. Girl did not care. She wanted to die.
Masculine arms gently
picked her up. Girl moaned as a voice called her a name she did not recognize.
The night air was cool over her naked skin as he carried her away. She could
vaguely hear Cer’s screams in the distance before she lost consciousness.
When she awoke, the
strange dark haired male was beside her bed, a look of concern on his face. He
called her that name again, but Girl did not know what he spoke of.
“Adriel, you are safe
now. He will no longer be able to do this to you. Never again, Adriel.” He was
the man from the window, the immortal male she had seen so many years ago.
“Adriel? Adriel are you
listening to me?”
Adriel turned and faced
Eleazar, her mind returning from that terrifying place so long ago. “I
apologize, Eleazar. I slipped away for a moment.”
Her heart pinched at the
familiar face of her friend, her savior.
He eyed her critically
and she knew he detected where her thoughts had drifted. “You need to stop
wasting so much time dwelling on the past, Adriel. It is over. Leave it in the
past.”
Three years ago she
would have whole heartedly agreed with him. It had been three hundred years
since she had seen Cer. But so much had changed recently.
“It would be easier if
he was not free, in a place we know nothing of,” she confessed.
The arrival of young
Dane and Cybil to their farm was proof that her mate had escaped his
imprisonment. Once again littering the immortal population with his tainted
seed.
Eleazar was the only one
who knew of the evil her mate had put her through. He had nursed her back to
health, diligently worked to mend her mind, and taught her many disciplines
that made her strong, especially for a female immortal. He promised her a new
life, in a new world. He was her best friend.
Eleazar sighed. “Adriel,
I know you are frightened. But it has been centuries. He has been free for at
least two decades that we know of and has yet to find you.”
She thought of how close
the Foster children, Dane and Cybil, lived to the farm, prior to moving there,
and shivered. Her mate had been so close.
“What if he knows I am
here and he is simply biding his time?”
“I do not believe that
is the case.”
“Because he would have
collected me?”
Hesitating a moment, as
if choosing his words carefully, Eleazar said, “He would know your blood.
Cerberus is strong. Stronger than any male I’ve ever met. He was outmatched
because there were so many of us. It took twelve males to bury him alive three
centuries ago. There are over seventy of us now. He is wise enough to know he
is outnumbered.”
This was true, but she
lived alone in her little house. She’d been taken in the middle of the night
before—and that was in the presence of her entire family. Now there would be no
one to stop him if he came for her.
They were Amish. She was
automatically at a disadvantage if he was familiar with the technologies of the
modern world. While her Amish life had served as protection over the last few
centuries, she now viewed it as a hindrance, leaving her with little security.
“Eleazar, I want a
firearm.”
He tensed. “No.”
“Why—”
“The answer is no,
Adriel, and that is final.”
“I am completely
helpless here. I—”
“Think of what you are
asking. It goes against everything we believe in.”
“Yet, when the English
mates ask for concessions, you grant them.”