I crouched in my pen with three other girls. Branches, thicker than any of our arms, jabbed into the ground to make the walls of our pen. Trees towered around us. Sunlight occasionally speckled the ground as the canopy above shifted.
The stench of our feces and unwashed bodies clogged my nose. We’d been kept in the pen for seven days. The youngest girl, with the strawberry blonde hair, had been first. She placed the earthen floor as she glared at our captors who lounged languidly beyond our pen wall. Her tiny stature and youth didn’t make her very menacing, yet. But when she hit puberty, she would be a force to reckon with.
The most recent captive sobbed softly. Still in her teens but older than all of us, she’d been made to Claim then mate with someone. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground. I sat next to her with an arm around her shoulders. And, like the youngest, I watched our captors.
The fourth member of the party slept and twitched as she did so.
I felt the pain and anguish of the one crying, the rage of the one pacing, the determination of the one holding her sister, and the pure terror of the one dreaming. We were all the same yet different. Sisters of the same womb. Daughters of the Taupe Lady. Pieces in a game we never wanted to play.
The branch door of our pen drifted open in the breeze. None of us moved to run, but it still caught the attention of the men watching us.
“If she is old enough to look at us with hate, she is old enough to mate,” one said as he stood. He towered over all of us. A scrap of leather covered his loins. The rest of him remained dusty and bare.
The sister who paced stopped moving and stared at him, her chin tucked close to her chest so she watched him from under her brow. He strode purposely toward her.
The dream narrowed so I no longer felt the other three. Just her. Just her anger. Her fear. She knew what he wanted. What he intended to do. She would die.
He gripped my arm tightly and pulled me from the pen. The sobbing one flew forward like a wildcat and tried fighting him. It did no good. She sailed back and hit the branches with a hollow thump. The girl next to her tried pulling my arm back. It didn’t matter; he swatted her away, too. His big hand reached for me. I bit him hard and felt my teeth hit bone. He hit me; the flat of his palm connected with a crack. I saw stars. My heart beat wildly. I struggled as he lifted me.
The dream faded and restful oblivion cocooned me. I barely registered the gentle kiss pressed against my forehead. I slept.
Stretching my arms wide, my hand lightly smacked into a face. I stilled and opened my eyes. The white ceiling above greeted me. Cautiously turning my head, I met Luke’s amused gaze peeking through the fingers of the hand that still covered his face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I sat up with a scowl. We both laid on top the covers; a line of pillows separated us. I felt rested, but waking with him next to me unsettled me.
“You were having a bad dream. I came in to wake you, but you quieted. So I decided to use my time wisely and sleep, too.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he quickly added, “I kept it proper. See?” He gestured to the pillows.
“I don’t care if you put a —”
“I’m starving. Let’s eat.” He rose from the bed with a stretch and moved toward the door. I continued to glare at him.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. I won’t let my guard down. A few moments of kindness will not make me fall into your arms.”
He stopped by the door and turned to look at me, his face carefully blank. “I don’t want you in my arms.”
“Liar.” I swung my legs off the bed and stood. Did he think me stupid? I yanked my bag up off the nearby chair.
Luke scratched his jawline as he hesitated by the door. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” Frustration laced his words despite his relaxed pose.
I barely understood myself. I didn’t really think he wanted to wear me down, but getting angry seemed a better way to keep some distance between us. The idea of someone watching over me just to watch over me...well, that swayed me more than it should have. It also made me miss my mom. She used to do that before my world broke. Before I discovered there were some things she couldn’t protect me from. My teeth clenched against my resentment. I hated knowing. I hated the dreams, and at the moment, I hated him, too.
“What’s to understand?” I practically screamed at him, angry that he was making me say it. “I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe again. I’m so tired, I have no idea how to help myself, and I don’t know if I can trust you.”
His eyes soften, and he lifted a hand as if he wanted to move toward me. But, he stopped himself, dropped his hand, and sighed softly. “We can stay here longer so you can rest,” he offered.