Page 10 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

“I know your goddess has made you unnaturally strong and ugly,” he said.

She snorted. “Is that why your breath hitches when I draw closer to you?”

His glare returned. He should know better than to call her unattractive. Not only was it entirely untrue, he’d proven just how attractive he found her when they first met.

I need your skin against mine.

He would not live those words down.

“This will be easier for us both if you make the most of our time together on the road before we reach my country.”

“Things will be easier for you if you release me now, before my father knows where I’ve gone.”

She laughed. “I have met your father four times on the battlefield now. I’m not worried.”

Sanos’s eyes widened. “ You’re the Amarran general?” The one who had shamed his father? The one who had stoked his ire and drove him to beat Sanos and Canus relentlessly?

“Yes.”

She came closer, and he flinched backward.

The move made her narrow her eyes. “I will not harm you, Andrastus. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me or my people, but I am not cruel.

I do not use my strength to harm others.

I have taken you because I must in order to win my throne, but this is an arrangement that can be mutually beneficial.

You are a second-born prince, set to inherit nothing.

Now you will be a husband and sire. You have risen in station.

You needn’t work or want for anything. I will care for you.

“I hear you like literature. I have recently restocked our library with books by Brutish writers and poets. There’s a theater in Zinaeya where you can attend plays, operas, and more. I would see you happy and thriving.”

If only Sanos liked any of those things. Sanos preferred hunting and movement. He liked parties and drinking. He read for enlightenment, not for pleasure. And he detested poetry.

But he had to pretend to be Andrastus…

Fuck that. Anger seemed to be the best approach.

“You think you can bribe me into doing what you want?” he asked.

“It’s not bribery. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“And what would you be getting out of this arrangement?”

“Certainly not your pleasing personality.”

“You kidnapped me.”

She grinned. “I did, didn’t I? Couldn’t have planned the whole thing any better.”

Amarra’s tits, she thought he was complimenting her.

“You will have much to prove when we arrive in Amarra,” she said. “Physically, I think we can say the court will be impressed by you, but your manners need some work.”

Was she fucking serious?

“Men are to be seen but not heard unless expressly told otherwise,” she continued. “You are free to speak to me whenever you wish when we are alone. However, in front of the courtiers, you need to behave.”

“And just how are you going to make me do that?”

She leaned farther into the blankets on the cart, propping herself up on two elbows.

The crisp breeze in the Brutish air blew the loose strands of hair back from her face.

“Women in my kingdom have been kidnapping and breaking men for nearly five hundred years. It is an art form that is taught to the nobility. While I don’t particularly care for most of the methods, I will do what I must to ingrain some manners in you. ”

“Breaking men?” he questioned. He wasn’t overly concerned. There was nothing this woman could do to him that hadn’t already been done. Except, he remembered, any nighttime plans she might have.

He refused to think about it.

“Housebreaking,” she clarified. “Teaching you to be Amarran.”

Housebreaking?

Every word out of her mouth was more ridiculous than the last.

“And what methods do you intend to use on me?” he asked.

“The most common practice is the denying of sexual favors.”

He blinked once. Twice. “You’re going to withhold sex from me?” He laughed. “That only works if I want sex from you, which I can assure you, I no longer do.”

“Your words would have greater weight if you hadn’t been pawing at me just two nights ago.

” When he tried to argue, she added, “Let’s not bicker now, as delightful as it is to go head-to-head with you.

Let’s become better acquainted. The only things I know about you are what my spies have told me. Tell me something real.”

The question startled him. No one had asked to know anything about him before. How could they when he kept everyone at arm’s length?

“I—” he started, and cut himself off.

After a beat, she said, “Would it be easier if I went first? You already know I’m a soldier and a general. A princess. I also like to sing. I enjoy games of strategy. And… I’m afraid of bees.”

He wanted to make a harsh comment so she would feel its bite, but he couldn’t. He processed the words slowly. Felt how real they were, and something ever so small shifted within him.

“Bees,” he deadpanned.

“Yes, they’re loud. They sting. And they stand between me and the smell of a full blossom. There. Now you tell me something.”

He ought to snap. To yell at her some more and tell her he wasn’t going to play along.

Instead, he found himself saying, “I’ve always wanted to see the ocean.”

Her eyes met his, and her smile was open. “I’ll take you.”

She smiled so damned much. Why did she have so much to smile about?

“I need to shit,” he told her, stopping any further conversation.

She showed no reaction to his crass language. She had her friend stall the cart, then Olerra untied him from the railings at the side. She retied his bindings so his ankles and wrists remained close together. He had to shuffle off the road, her hand on his arm the whole way.

When they reached a tree, he turned to her. “Are you going to watch?”

“Of course not. I won’t be far, though.”

“Naturally.”

He really did need to relieve himself, so he took care of business the moment he heard her footsteps recede. After he tucked himself back inside his pants, he looked about for a sharp stick or rock. Anything to cut his bonds.

There was nothing in the near vicinity, so he started to creep farther from the road. He couldn’t see her when he looked over his shoulder, so he picked up speed.

“Are you finished?” she called out to him.

“Not yet,” he said, raising his voice so she would think him closer.

Finally he found a rock. He crouched beside some bushes and began to saw the ropes binding his hands.

It was taking too long.

She’d come for him soon. He looked around desperately for somewhere to hide.

There were some brambles not far off. He lay flat on his back and rolled, careful to hold on to the rock. The thorns bit into his skin, but at least he was out of sight now. No sooner had he resumed his sawing did he hear their voices.

“Told you he’d run off the first time you left him alone.” Ydra.

“You did.”

“It wasn’t your lack of charm. He’s a Brute. They’re taught to hate us. You picked the most difficult man for housebreaking.”

“To impress the court!” Olerra defended.

“I know. I’m just saying, don’t expect to work miracles after your first conversation with him.”

They were getting closer, and he made his fingers work faster. Until he saw a pair of sandals right next to his head. He paused. Held his breath.

“Where do you think he went?” Ydra asked.

“He couldn’t have climbed with his feet bound. He’s either behind a tree trunk or tucked under some shrubs. Can I borrow your bow?”

“Sure.”

They walked on. Sanos finally made it through the last of the fibers. His hands were free, but he couldn’t reach his feet in this position. He counted to thirty, then rolled back out of the brambles, earning himself some more scratches.

Olerra was there. She’d moved out of his direct line of sight but no farther. She’d known exactly where he was.

Shit.

Sanos ran as fast as the ropes would let him, which wasn’t much better than a walk. If he could just get to the horses. Behind a tree. Something!

As he hobbled, he didn’t hear any sounds of pursuit, so he turned his head.

She took aim with the arrow and loosed.

He braced himself for pain—and then tripped.

His hands took the brunt of the fall, and when he tried to rise, he found he couldn’t get his feet under him.

Because he hadn’t tripped at all.

She’d shot the ropes between his ankles, pinning him to the ground. He couldn’t even roll onto his back until she retrieved the arrow. When she did, he planted his ass on the ground and stared up at her.

Olerra spun the arrow over her fingers in such a way that suggested she was very familiar with the weapon, as though the shot hadn’t already proven that.

“Let’s get something clear, Prince. I have claimed you. That means you belong to me now. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But make no mistake, our fates are bound together from now on. You can fight all you like, but you’re not going home. And by the time I’m done with you?”

She crouched next to him, gave him a heated perusal.

“You won’t want to.”

Olerra pulled the cart to the side of the road even though there was still more sunlight illuminating the path ahead. She was restless, and sitting for hours at a time was not natural for her. She needed to move before she went mad.

Ydra didn’t ask questions, no doubt sensing what she needed already, as she often did. Her friend started to make camp while Olerra dealt with her new man.

Andrastus snored lightly from the bed of the cart.

She was relieved to see him finally sleeping.

He’d done very little so far, and she knew that would only make him more difficult to work with.

Being as silent as possible, she climbed into the cart and checked the bandages she’d placed on him earlier for the cuts sustained from the thorny bush he’d hidden under.

One of them had been fairly deep, and she’d had to dig the barb from his skin.

She changed the bandage and wondered if her betrothed was always a deep sleeper or if he was simply too tired to rouse now.

That done, she unhitched the horses so they could roam on leads near the stream. Ydra had finished erecting the tent, so the two gathered firewood. It felt good to move, but Olerra needed more. She wondered if she dared leave Ydra and the prince to go for a run…

“Come here.”

Olerra turned to find Ydra standing in a clearing just a short ways from camp. She had her feet spread apart and arms held aloft in the first stance of luet, the Amarran wrestling technique.

Thank the gods.

Olerra removed her weapons and set them outside their makeshift ring. She moved her head from side to side, stretching her neck and swinging her arms to loosen the muscles.

When she was ready, she matched Ydra’s stance and swung a fist.

She met air. Ydra was quick, but not nearly so quick as Olerra.

Olerra had spent her entire life training to be the very best. She did not have the magic, so it was the only way she could protect herself.

Every day she worked her muscles until they wouldn’t move anymore.

She lifted weights or ran until she couldn’t breathe.

She sparred with Ydra or anyone else willing to take her on.

Few dared.

In another twenty seconds, Olerra had Ydra flat on her back.

The second woman coughed. “How do you do that? Every damned time.”

Olerra could handle all manner of weaponry, like all women from Amarra, but hand-to-hand combat was her favorite.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah, lucky to have been born with bones harder than rock.”

Olerra was proud of her shape. She was a large woman. Taller than most, with wide thighs and a stomach that rounded outward almost as far as her breasts, she was physically more intimidating than many women. Still, there were several who outweighed her. She liked fighting against those the most.

“Don’t forget I have a face to make men and sirems swoon.”

Ydra rolled her eyes. “You’re just lucky I can’t use the Gift against you. Then you’d be in trouble.”

It was true. No woman could use the magic against another woman. Nor could it be used against madorns—individuals born into masculine bodies who identified as female, or madereo—individuals who were neither male nor female or fluctuated between the two.

It was a discerning magic, one that saw true genders, and yet, it had rejected Olerra.

For the longest time, she thought perhaps she was madae—individuals born into female bodies who identified as male. But she knew in her mind and heart she was female. Maybe there was something about her that was broken.

Or maybe the goddess saw shame in the union of a sire who would kill his wife, and Olerra bore the punishment as a result. They say there was a storm unlike any Amarra had ever seen on the day of Olerra’s birth. Perhaps her very existence displeased the goddess.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Ydra said as the two took up starting positions again.

Olerra looked over her shoulder to ensure the prince was still sleeping. Ydra used the opportunity to hook a foot around one of her ankles. Olerra rolled the moment she hit the ground and came back up on her feet.

“I just… I want him to like me.”

“He will,” Ydra said. “But first he’ll hate you. He has to for the sake of his pride. Besides, you should be more worried about whether you’ll like him. What if he’s awful?”

“Then he’s a means to an end. I’ll bed him, wed him, and—”

“Behead him?”

“Very funny. I was going to say I’ll let him go once he’s served his purpose.”

Ydra slapped Olerra’s hands away when she tried to grab her. “Do you want to like him?”

She was torn. She wanted a partner. She wanted someone to love and be loved by.

But she also couldn’t risk him learning her secret.

It would certainly be easier if he was unlikable.

He could be a pretty face in her court, help her win her throne, and then he could live the rest of his days wherever he wanted doing whatever he wanted.

“I don’t know,” Olerra said honestly. “Either way, I will attempt to win him over.”

Then she charged her friend, slamming her into the ground. Ydra threw an elbow down onto her shoulder blade, so Olerra moved her arm to cover her friend’s throat.

Ydra glared at her as she slapped her arm twice.

Olerra rose and held down a hand to help her up.

When she looked over Ydra’s shoulder, she saw Andrastus watching the two of them. They were too far for him to hear their words, but she wondered if he’d meant what he’d said earlier. Could he turn off his attraction so easily? Did he truly no longer want her?

And if so, what could she do to change that?