Rory opened his eyes and frantically looked around. The woman laid face down on the ground. Her arm was outstretched over her head, but the knife had fallen from her fingers.
“I didn’t know ya were into bondage.” Raibeart appeared before him with a grin. Not surprisingly, his uncle was buck-ass naked. Raibeart placed his hand on his hips. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your date. She should come to in like six, seven hours. I’ll leave ya to it.”
Raibeart started to leave.
“Raibeart, wait,” Rory yelled. It was no secret that his uncle wasn’t all there. The way he’d heard the story, Raibeart had been involved with an inthrall. Inthralls were human women, but for some reason, they were able to tap into a warlock’s power—not all warlocks; the match had to be perfect, so it was extremely rare. Raibeart’s lover drained his magick and left him a few clubs short of a golf game.
Raibeart returned. “Ya haven’t seen a troll run by here, have ya? He stole my favorite tutu.”
A troll stealing his uncle’s clothing would not be the reason Raibeart was running around naked. More security cameras had spotted the man’s bare ass streaking than anyone in the family cared to know about.
“Untie me,” Rory ordered. It had become difficult to breathe, and he fought a wave of dizziness.
“Ya are a demanding…” Raibeart grumbled. “No wonder your woman tried to stab ya. For future knowledge, laddie, when ya are tied up, you’re the submissive. That’s how these games work.”
A flash of blue lit up the forest seconds before it slammed into Rory’s chest. His breath knocked out of him. “Oof!”
The ropes didn’t budge, and Raibeart tried a second time, zapping Rory with a more potent dose of magick.
“Ow, stop!” Rory cried.
Raibeart hit him a third time, then a fourth.
“Ow, Raibeart, stop. The ropes are enchanted. That’s not working.” Rory flinched as he waited for a fifth blast that didn’t come.
“Why didn’t ya say so?” Raibeart came to stand in front of him.
“I tried. Ya keep hitting me,” Rory countered.
“Ya asked me to.” Raibeart looked at the unconscious woman on the path. “She’s just a wee little thing, isn’t she? How did she convince ya to stand still long enough to truss ya up?”
“I didn’t let her,” Rory protested.
“And yet there ya are.” Raibeart laughed. “What did ya do to piss off this one?”
“Nothing. She just attacked.” Rory fought for each breath and talking was not easy. “I don’t even know who she is.”
Raibeart chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the knife the woman had dropped. “How many times do I have to tell ya boys? Women don’t like it when ya forget their names.”
“This coming from a man who forgets the women he’s asked to marry him,” Rory mumbled.
“Hey,” Raibeart pointed the knife tip at him to enunciate his words. “I have a plan.”
“Plan?” Rory’s hands and feet tingled. “Can that plan please include cutting me free? I am losing feeling in my limbs.”
“The woman I’m meant to be with will say aye to me,” Raibeart explained, even though Rory didn’t ask him to. “I had a conversation with Fate once and learned a few things. I’m playing my odds.”
“Sure. That sounds sane.” Rory couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “No way that could backfire on ya.”
“Ya would be wise to do the same,” Raibeart advised. “Only, maybe not this one. She doesn’t seem to like ya very much. But she’s pretty. I might ask her when she wakes up. I gave her quite a stun, so it might be a while before she can answer.”
“Aye, six or seven hours, ya said,” Rory said between gritted teeth. “I’m losing feeling in my manhood.”
“That can’t be too pleasant.” Raibeart gave a dramatic shiver. “Never liked constriction myself.”
“Cut me free. Now. Please, now.” Rory fought for consciousness. The world was beginning to feel a little wobbly. His head drooped forward.
He felt tiny vibrations as Raibeart began sawing at the rope with the blade. The pressure on his chest eased, and he was able to inhale deeply.
“Enough games. Which one of ya tied me up with enchanted rope and sent this woman after me?” Rory asked, keeping an eye on the unconscious woman. “The last thing I remember was drinking earlier with all of ya earlier tonight.”
“That was two days ago. Your ma has been worried about ya, laddie.” Raibeart sawed faster. “Ya went to take a shower after ya spilled your liquor and didn’t come back out. Since a man can only play with himself for so long, we decided we’d better check on ya. The water was running cold, and it looked like ya had just melted down the drain. I told them not to worry. Sometimes a man has to run free, but ya know how the chickens gobble.”
The grip around his body broke free. Rory leaned forward. The rope slithered from around him, releasing him so that he fell onto his hands and knees. He took several deep breaths, willing the blood to flow through his limbs. The sensation of pins and needles prickled in places he’d rather not have such an unpleasant feeling.
“I don’t know who the mystery date is, but she has good taste in knives. I haven’t seen a scian this pretty since we raided that stronghold. Ya know the one,” Raibeart said.
“Actually, no, I don’t.” Rory crawled a few steps to get a better look at the woman’s face.
“Sure ya do. The Saxons had us pinned,” Raibeart said. “And someone, I’m not saying who, bespelled their clothing to run away. It was a chilly march home that autumn.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rory said though the story sounded vaguely familiar. It seemed like something from his elders’ younger days.
“Were ya not there?” Raibeart shrugged. “It matters not. If we have to slay her, can I keep the scian for my collection?”
“We
