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  She’d been victimized in the worst way possible. Regardless how tiny the scratch on her skin, his blood inevitably seeped inside her body. It was her clan’s ultimate dread. They loathed the thought of a barbaric killer’s blood intermixing with their purity because it would alter them forever. They’d no longer be wholesome. They’d become murderers themselves. No! No! No! This can’t happen.

  Nearly panicking, she tried breaking free but his firm grip tightened around her fragile wrist.

  “My blood now binds us.”

  “Never,” she shouted. She heaved but had no contents in her stomach to throw up. How could he do this to her? She’d rather die. She’d rather he slaughter her or cut off her head. Would she now share the Barbarian’s savage craving for human sacrifice?

  Mercy. Mercy-mercy-mercy!

  She relentlessly fought, twisting and turning despite the strain on her shoulder. To make matters worse she sensed him staring at her through the never-ending eye sockets. Her stomach knotted. She clenched her teeth so tightly her jaws ached.

  Finally he stepped aside and faced his people, raising her arm high above her head, displaying the blood. “Grunt’s honor is restored. Let this night end peacefully.”

  Through the uproar of cheerful shouts he released her wrist long enough to wrap the belly rope around his fingers. With a nudge that slightly dug the binding into her waist, he guided her to his hut. Being made of soft leather, the leash didn’t chafe her skin or hurt but being tethered like an animal did. What a harsh slap to her dignity.

  She glanced pleadingly over her shoulder, hoping someone with a modicum of decency would help her. There she saw Birmon waddling along their trail.

  The Barbarian pushed the flap aside. “In,” he grumbled, stepping in between her and the little creature.

  She didn’t want to enter his dwelling. She didn’t. She’d rather die than become a prisoner under his command. “Let him come too,” she begged. “He’s just a baby.”

  Surprisingly the chieftain moved from Birmon’s path, allowing him to shuffle into the hut. After securing the flap from the inside, the Barbarian led Wisteria to his hides and sat her down by pressing on her shoulders.

  Birmon snuggled on the ground at her hip and after wiggling into a comfortable position he tucked himself under his wings. Careful not to disturb him, she backed into the stone wall as far as the rope allowed and rested her head against a smooth rock to where she could watch the Barbarian’s every move. “Why’d you fool your people?” she dared ask.

  Seconds droned by without a response. The dead silence, breached only by her audible breaths, nestled warily in her belly. “If your philosophy is to do unto others,” she continued, “why didn’t you hurt me?”

  As if unnerved by the question, he walked to the water hole, squatted and held a cup beneath the stream. “Drink,” he said, handing her the full cup.

  She grabbed it between both hands and gulped, emptying the contents. It could’ve been filled with anything and she would have gladly guzzled it to quench her immense thirst.

  The refreshing liquid soothed her parched throat before settling in a puddle inside her tummy. “Are you going to answer me?” she asked, raising her voice to mute the sloshing sounds coming from her belly.

  He removed the cup from her hands and turned slightly to set it on a ledge surrounding the water hole.

  “Well?” she goaded. Obviously he didn’t want to talk. But why would he? He wasn’t from a personable tribe who enjoyed communication. What would make her an exception?

  She took a moment to dry her lips with the back side of her hand while he dunked his arm in the water and rinsed off the blood. At least he had the decency to give her a drink first. “Listen, I’m here because you abducted me from my home. You can at”

  “I saved you,” he snarled, causing her to gasp and scoot closer to the wall. “From your own kin,” he added.

  Without another word he clasped her wrist in his hand and began washing the blood from her as well. He refilled the cup with water and poured it over her arm. Then he rubbed her skin. Quite gently. Surprisingly gentler than she’d expected, and he rinsed it over and over until the red-tainted water turned clear.

  Agilely he rose, the snout of the bison mask pointing directly at her face while he straightened to full height.

  She tore her gaze from his intimidating size and glanced at Birmon, his tiny body twitching in sleep. “Unlike now, I deserved the punishment,” she said. “I betrayed them. I knew the ramifications of my actions but I didn’t care.” She laid her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “You heard my sister.”

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Reluctantly her lashes fluttered open.

  “Yes, I heard. And I felt it my responsibility to get you out of there before they seriously hurt or killed you.”

  “The responsible thing to do now would be to let me go.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. He wasn’t providing the answers she wanted but at least he acted partially civilized. “I belong with my people. I’ll beg for their forgiveness until they take me back.”

  “The people who beat you until you bled?”

  She had no choice. Where else could she go? If he hadn’t bludgeoned… No, she had to remain hopeful they were alive. “We have honor to uphold. If punishment isn’t enacted for breaking rules, the children…” Mercy, the children! “They will grow without discipline. I was an example. I deceived my people and I paid for it.”

  “Paid for it?” he mocked. “Well, you’ll no longer have to pay. I’m accountable for you now.”

  Her eyes flew open. Was that a confession? She gasped at his condescending tone and held her breath for a long moment. “What did you do?” He remained quiet. Too quiet. For far too long. “Did you…” She couldn’t finish the question. She filled her lungs with air as a sickened feeling washed over her and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “Did you…kill my people?”

  “Look at me, Wisteria,” he shouted.

  Her head snapped upward at the use of her name and her heartbeat faltered. Despite his anger, she swore regret dominated his voice.

  “No.” He dropped the leash on the ground at his feet and placed his hands on the sides of the bison head. “I did not kill your people.” With a slight tug he removed the mask.

  No! Oh no! Her eyes bulged as long, dark, unbound hair fell over his shoulders. It can’t be. No! “Vulcan!” She staggered to her feet, pressing her hands into the wall for stability. “You…you…you’re a Barbarian?”

  “Yes, Wisteria, I’m a Barbarian.”

  “A bloodthirsty savage!” She closed her eyes and reopened them slowly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would it have mattered?”

  “Yes!”

  “It wasn’t the right time.”

  “But-but,” she stuttered, “you kissed me.”

  “And?”

  “I wouldn’t have allowed it. You deceived me.”

  “But you didn’t deceive the man you’d been promised to by allowing it?”

  She hung her head and stared at the ground. Dumfounded. Mortified. And at a complete loss for words.

  “I needed your trust before I could disclose the truth. I didn’t want you to fear me as you do now.” He set the headpiece on the ground then disrobed to his loincloth, tossing the furs in a pile near Birmon. “Since I didn’t get that chance, I was going to reveal myself when you woke on my lap so you wouldn’t be frightened, but”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, Wisteria,” he said as he bent down and wrapped the end of the rope around his hand. “When you escaped, you became my captive.” He lifted the leash and shook it. “This is what happens. You get bound. Things change.”

  “I became your prisoner the instant your men cut me free from the stoning trees.”

  “You’re wrong. You were still a victim when I placed you on my lap.” He slowly took a s
tance, locking his eyes on hers. “Be glad it was me who disrupted your beating instead of another tribe.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “I’m supposed to be glad a Barbarian captured me? Have you gone berserk?”

  “I’ll say this only once more. You were not my captive until you tried escaping. That’s when you forced me to utilize my position.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me at the lake? You left me there for your…your Barbarians to find.”

  “I instructed my men to return you unharmed.”

  Was that supposed to make her feel better? “You set me up.”

  “You gave me no choice. I couldn’t let you run free. Nor could I abandon my duties as chieftain and reveal my identity to my captive before punishment was delivered. You stripped me of all options.”

  “I never hurt you. How could you do this?”

  “Like your people, we have honor to uphold and rules to follow. Two of which you broke. Fleeing from captivity and attacking a tribesman are heavy offenses.”

  “What did you expect? I was fighting for my life.”

  “What did you expect? That you’d actually get away?”

  “I had to try.” She tore her gaze free from his chest. His magnificent, powerful, Barbarian chest. “I was frightened of you.”

  “You had no reason to be frightened of me.” He tugged on the belly rope just enough to pull her backside away from the wall. “Have I hurt you?”

  “Nn-Nn-Nnoo. Not really.”

  Another tug brought her a little closer. “I’m not a monster, Wisteria.”

  She begged to differ. “Anyone who rips hearts from chests with their bare hands is not human.”

  “What are you saying? That I’m not worthy of you?” He gave the rope yet another tug.

  “Please,” she begged. She gulped and locked her hands around the leash, yanking in opposition. She didn’t want to move any closer. She didn’t. “Vulcan, please stop,” she whimpered, digging her feet into the ground. Why’d she even attempt to fight him? She’d witnessed his strength when he’d lifted Sledge off his feet with his bare fists.

  “Don’t be afraid of me.” His voice lowered and eyes narrowed. “I won’t harm you.”

  He pulled her within an arm’s reach but didn’t touch her. Instead he continued to inch her forward and she regretted every single step. Her belly vaulted. “You’re the enemy,” she said solemnly.

  Another subtle tug brought her nose to nearly touching his chest. “I’m a man. Did you fear me when you were embraced in my arms?”

  How absurd to even suggest it. She’d felt nothing beyond his security at that time as his body heat had wrapped around her, like now, causing a multitude of tingly sensations. She shook her head because at the moment she couldn’t speak. Strange things happened. Strange, wonderful things. She inhaled a short, raspy breath, released the leash and lowered her hands at her sides, squeezing them into fists.

  “Did you fear me when I kissed you?”

  No, she hadn’t feared him then either. How could she when his lips offered gentle possession? Again she shook her head, indulging in his warm breath as it caressed her face.

  “Look at me.”

  She did just as he dropped the rope.

  He slid his hands in the hair above her ears and tilted her face. “I’m human like you. I feel pain and passion.”

  Inhaling sharply, she raised her gaze to his dark, mysterious eyes as his thumbs began a gentle massage along her brow bones. She loved his eyes. She’d fallen in love with them at the lake. But that was before, when she hadn’t a clue about his true identity.

  “I can be your friend as well as lover.”

  He stepped closer, removing the space between their bodies. So close in fact, her breasts pressed into his breastbone. Her breath caught. She released it shakily with a soft hiss.

  “And I can treasure your body as you deserve.”

  Temptation to touch his muscular chest built in her fingers. She squeezed her hands into fists, fighting the prohibited urges. “You…” She paused, fluttering her eyelids closed, trying to compose herself.

  Gazing into his eyes was turning her into a wanton victim. A woman reaching the breaking point. Even his prior words of making love became foremost in her mind. If she didn’t stop this now she’d defy her own morals and beliefs. “You mustn’t say such things. You can’t do this. We…can’t do this.”

  He patted her nose with his lips. Her knees weakened and she instinctively leaned forward for balance. It brought his arms around her waist and her lower tummy flush against his hard, manly organ. Her eyes sprang open. “Vulcan, please release me.”

  For a moment longer he held her then unclasped his arms and stepped aside. “A title doesn’t make a man, Wisteria. It’s what’s in here.” He tapped a finger on his chest above his heart. “You met the man first. You didn’t fear me then. Why now?”

  How could she answer that? She initially couldn’t so she chewed on her bottom lip and sat down next to Birmon, concentrating on what to say. Unfortunately the only thing coming to mind was the truth. “Because you’re a beast. You rip bodies apart with your bare hands. You burn people alive for no reason. I watched you kill a man. Do I need to say more?”

  “What I killed was not a man.”

  “It was! I saw him with my own eyes.”

  “No, Wisteria, he might have looked like a man from a distance, but he was not human.”

  “Maybe he was poisoned,” she screeched, “and only needed an antidote.”

  “I understand your fear, but I’m not going to stand here trying to explain the truth when you’re not willing to listen.” He crossed the hut but before he walked outside he locked his dark, sinister gaze on her eyes. “I would never hurt you. You suffered more pain from your peaceful clan than you have from my tribe, and you should have realized that by now. I brought you to safety and tended your wounds. I could have stripped you and taken you against your will, but I refused to hurt you, Wisteria.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Are those typical actions from a merciless killer?” He threw the flap aside and disappeared into the night.

  Chapter Seven

  Wisteria lay on her side under a fur near Birmon, her hands tucked beneath her cheek and eyes partially closed. She was freezing. She had been since she and Vulcan had returned from the lake. Despite his anger he’d allowed her to bathe under his supervision. He’d washed too then stood near the forest wall while she scrubbed off the day’s soils. Loo-La hadn’t surfaced but neither had Wisteria stayed in the water long enough to wait.

  If only she were lying closer to the fire to utilize its warmth but that was where Vulcan sat and she’d decided to stay as far away from him as possible.

  She wanted him to believe she slept when in fact she lay watching him. Soft glow from the flames illuminated half of his masculine body while their shadows flickered along the back wall.

  Her belly remained upset from earlier. After she’d insulted him. Right before he’d stormed out. Even when he returned awhile later and silently walked her to the lake, it hadn’t eased. The knot twisting in the pit was a constant reminder of her cruel words. But she’d spoken the truth. She couldn’t help what he was any more than he could. If he’d come to terms with his reputation he’d understand her reasoning.

  How long had she been lying there unable to sleep? In her state of exhaustion it seemed like forever.

  Vulcan glanced at her from across the hut. She snapped her eyes shut. The distance between them was too great to distinguish whether she was sleeping or not but she wouldn’t chance him catching her awake. She couldn’t stomach another confrontation.

  She separated her lashes and peeked. He’d returned his attention to the fire, tending it with a gnarled stick. He really was a gorgeous man. Rugged and frightening at a glance but gorgeous. And the way his arms flexed when stirring the ashes stirred her tummy as well. From the moment she’d met him he’d invaded her thoughts. She even told Ivy she would occu
py her mind with visions of him while Sledge forced her to mate. Vulcan refused to subject her to that type of treatment. Inevitably Sledge would take her against her will. Her own clansman. The one who’d whipped her so harshly she’d bled.

  Yet Vulcan set her free.

  Perhaps he’d killed the Flesh Eater to protect his tribe. After all, the Flesh Eaters were killers and had run her clan from their home and killed her siblings. It might have been only a short time before reinforcements arrived in an attempt to wipe out the Barbarians.

  Maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. Maybe she should place reputation aside and accept Vulcan for the man she’d encountered at the lake. The man who’d embraced her gently and given her that first kiss. The man who’d released her the instant she’d asked. The man who said he’d cherish her entire body with his mouth and hands.

  Heat rose to her face and her tummy stirred yet again with warmth from the memory of those words.

  Yes, perhaps she’d gotten it wrong. She currently shared a space with the man who’d treated her with kindness and seemed to care about her the most. He’d even led his own tribe into believing he’d sliced her arm on Grunt’s behalf. If Vulcan intended to hurt her, he would’ve done so by now.

  Would he forgive her? Could he?

  She quietly tossed the fur aside and slowly stood, hoping she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. If he looked at her now she may lose the nerve to apologize for the way she’d acted.

  As inconspicuously as possible she sauntered across the hut. Only a few steps remained when he turned and looked into her eyes. Her belly rolled nervously but he shunned her, returning his attention to the fire. She sat down directly beside him, folding her legs to the side before reaching upward to touch his shoulder. She lost her nerve and retracted her hand.

  Silence droned parallel to her tumultuous emotions while she stared at the orange and yellow flames that romped in the pit. She inhaled a deep breath, switching her gaze from the fire to his body. Dark hair covered his legs and sitting close enough to touch it sent thrills along her spine. Though tempted to reach sideways and slide her hand along his thigh, she wouldn’t dare, not knowing the ramifications of touching him so personally while he ultimately remained upset with her.