At the first hint of her struggle, it shot through her. Jagged, cruel, freezing her limbs and locking her joints in burning ice. Unable to even scream the agony of it to the uncaring sky above, his magic kept her still and silent. Its bitter taste coating her tongue, slipping down her throat to squirm its way inside her belly.
Shoving her from the molded leather seat, Er’it controlled her fall by the lead holding her wrists. Coating her in his vicious will until she lay upon the ground. Ripping it away with such force her back arched and her legs kicked out as she screamed.
“Get up.”
Aida scrambled to her feet, in no hurry to learn the terrain with her back again. He’d proven he had no qualms with injuring her further. As soon as she had her legs under her, he set Kal into motion. Despite Kal keeping his steps slow, having witnessed the entire affair and deciding on his course of action, the tether jerked Aida along behind him. The strange new boots were too large and unfamiliar, her steps fumbling as she kept falling behind only to be hauled forward until her rushing shuffle brought her closer.
Her tortuous journey repeating itself, Aida cried. Blinded by her tears, she didn’t care that they pointed and stared. The whole train marching past her, seeing her miserable failure firsthand as Er’it paraded her shortcomings before them all. Him stony faced and refusing to look at her, back stiff as he kept nudging Kal to keep him moving.
Even the animal’s care for his speed wouldn’t keep her from harm. Falling to the hard-packed dirt, Aida’s breathed left her in a hard whoosh that hurt as much as the rock punching into her belly. Even a few steps from Kal were more than enough to drag her over the ground far enough to rip her gown. Cheeks scraped and trickling blood burning her eye, Aida climbed back to her feet as fast as she could. Wary of the way Er’it’s hand flexed over the rope before he pushed Kal forward.
The day wore on. Aida grew more exhausted, weaker with every faltering step. Falling more often, dragged further each time, she was a bloody mess by the time Er’it slid down from Kal’s back and stalked towards her. Stretched flat upon the ground, gagging on thick dust and the wretched pain centered in her bruised middle, she couldn’t rise no matter how hard she tried. Legs quivering, they were as soft as warm jelly as she kicked them against the earth to find some purchase.
“Are you ready to tell me the truth now,” Er’it asked, as cold and hard hearted as ever while he watched Aida writhing.
“I am telling you the truth, sir,” Aida said, or tried to around her retching.
“So be it.” Taking up the slack of the rope, he faced the diminishing line of the marching caravan. Hitching the rope over his shoulder, he started walking. Dragging Aida behind him, leaving Kal to follow or not.
“Please,” Aida shrieked, squirming to her back to at least save her face from further torment. “Ask Immari if you don’t believe me. She raised me!”
He didn’t listen. Didn’t turn as Aida’s ragged screams and hoarse shouts echoed through the darkening valley. Kal followed, making all of his noises, but to no avail. Trying to block Er’it’s path only led to him hauling Aida through the prickling brush, her hair snagged on twigs and limbs, making her shrieks shrill.
Aida had no voice left by the time they reached the little city of tents. Darkness had fallen, the warm fires crackling in the night, people huddled against the shadows. As the day before, Er’it shoved her into the large tent that was his, leaving her to bleed and cry all over the coarse rug.
Chapter 11 Er’it
“Quiet,” Er’it said to Kal, though there was no venom in his voice. Even his anger had dissipated into nothingness. Stolen with the lengthening shadows as the little Omega screamed and cried while he dragged her the last mile. He’d known Kal would pull the same tricks as yesterday, and now he’d deal with the Phylix’s anger.
Kal responded with a vicious rattle, baring his huge teeth. An odd sight from something so resembling a horse, but he had more in common with the sand cats than the domesticated animals.
“I know. You like her, but she’s my prisoner, whether or not you like it,” Er’it said, keeping his voice to a low murmur so no one would hear him placating Kal. They all knew what Kal was, that he was not a simple beast, but knowing and understanding were often two very different things. “She’s lying to me, and I must get her to tell me the truth.”
Kal snorted, pawing at the earth and banging his horns against the tree Er’it had tied him to. Despite the animal keepers’ requests, it was not with the thick chain they’d have wished. Simple rope, easy for Kal to destroy if he so wished. Both understanding it made the others feel more comfortable for him to at least appear domesticated and controllable.
On that note, Er’it was thankful Kal hadn’t decided he liked the Omega more than he cared for Er’it. The way he’d protected her this morning, going for a kill instead of minor injury, suggested he liked the Omega very much indeed. The fact she’d thrown herself in front of the Phylix, trying to protect him from some imagined danger, had surprised them both. Though her outburst left Er’it less than convinced that she was as clueless as she made herself out to be, and not near so helpless.
“She getting into your head, too, old friend?”
Kal
