Again he tried to speak, but could utter nothing. Out of options, he swept Clarysa up onto his shoulder and leaped off the wagon. Lionel’s name burst from her mouth in a desperate shriek.
A flare of jealousy made him growl. Lionel wasn’t her true savior–Stellan was. Clarysa wouldn’t have feared him if it weren’t for Sada’s interference. He curled his free hand–now a formidable claw–into a massive fist. The beast side of him craved a bloody fight with his oppressors while the human side urged caution.
One of the henchmen blocked his way and thrust a spear toward him. Stellan grabbed the weapon, spun it, and jammed the sharp end into the man’s neck. The attacker slumped to the blood-spattered ground.
Stellan bared his fangs in heady vindication. With his enhanced form he could take them–he could defeat all of them!
Clarysa screamed again. Logic broke through his beast-hazed brain. Soldiers advancing… Want to kill me… Must protect her!
He barreled across the snow with incredible speed. Despite his wounds, Clarysa felt no heavier than a leaf resting on his shoulder. The sounds of the King’s men giving chase faded into the background as he carried Clarysa toward the dark depths of Dungeon Forest.
Chapter 30
Clarysa hung over the beast’s massive shoulder, one covered by bloody, coarse fur. What manner of creature was this thing? It seemed neither wolf nor human, but rather a hideous blend of both. She bobbed up and down like a village girl’s rag doll as the beast raced through the dense blanket of foliage. Each step thrust the creature’s collarbone painfully into her stomach.
Clarysa pounded the beast with all her might. After her arms tired, she kicked it as hard as she could. But her efforts were useless. Striking the brute had about as much effect as punching a stone floor covered with a thin rug.
The creature sped on. Where was he taking her? As the gray light about them faded, fears about Stellan’s fate flashed through her mind. What if this monster had devoured him and his broken body now lay deep within its bowels? What if it had torn her beloved limb from limb, splattering blood and bone across the castle floor? What if Stellan lay slowly dying from a thousand vicious bites? What if, what if…?
For perhaps the hundredth time, Clarysa cried hoarsely for the beast to release her. Each time, menacing snarls were her only answer. They traveled for what seemed like hours, far into the late afternoon.
Whenever she regained an ounce of strength, she resumed her resistance.
“Let me go, you horrid brute!” She twisted and pinched at its fur–all to no avail. Rough hide and hands numbed with cold conspired against her. As if it could understand spoken language, she continued her verbal assault. “You’re disgusting and I hate you!”
Clarysa tried to batter its chest with her knees, but it held her tightly. Her ire grew hot again. Blasphemous words spouted from her mouth. She would fight the monster until the end, if necessary.
While hurling more insults, she discovered a small amount of slack. A brash plan seized her tired mind. She kicked the beast hard and slid forward, down its back. Then she snatched one of the arrow shafts and ground it deeper into the creature’s flesh. Thick rivers of blood oozed forth.
The wolf-thing slammed Clarysa to the ground and pinned her tight. Her breath whooshed out as the impact jarred her from head to toe.
Mistake! She threw up her hands in a measly defense as the beast unleashed its howling fury mere inches from her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting at any moment for its glistening fangs to rip into her tender flesh.
But nothing happened.
Ever so slowly, ever so carefully, Clarysa opened her eyes.
The beast stared back, snarling and frothing at the mouth. Its breathing was labored, its eyes bloodshot. Saliva dripped from its tongue in copious amounts. But it did not attack!
What did the beast want from her? Fear and confusion manifested in hot, frequent tears. The sound of her ragged breaths mixed with those of the beast’s. “Have mercy. Kill me now or let me go!”
Clarysa’s pleas faded as she sagged in defeat. The beast then hoisted her onto its back once again and sprinted ahead.
Many more hours seemed to pass. Clarysa no longer struggled. The last of her strength had ebbed away.
Finally, they stopped in a copse of trees. A thin layer of snow covered the ground. All around them flakes trickled down from the sky, throwing a blanket of silence over the landscape. Clarysa knew their pursuers would be hard pressed to find them. Was she now the beast’s prisoner forever? She listened to its heavy panting. Several arrows still extended from its back. Was it resting? It seemed to be. Clouds of warm, moist breath gushed from its mouth.
The beast eased her down. Clarysa’s heart pumped madly. Now was her chance. She had saved her strength for this moment. The instant her feet touched the ground she turned and ran. Her legs felt like fire, solid as porridge, but she hurtled away nonetheless.
But she was no match for the beast. Thick, powerful claws grasped her gown, tearing the material as it drew her back. It whipped her around and with one arm at her waist easily pinned her against a nearby tree. All the air left her lungs. The rough bark chafed her bare skin. She pushed and slapped at the claw pinching her stomach. When she hurled insults at the beast, it snarled. When she yelled her protests, it howled.
After several minutes of this, Clarysa tired and grew still. This…is getting me nowhere. Perhaps a more civilized approach would yield better results. She eyed the monster with the steeliest gaze she could muster. “What exactly do you want from me?”
They stared at one another in silence. Then the beast’s gaze dropped, first to her neck and then lower. A husky, bestial
