Page 9 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

At first, Sanos dismissed the words Olerra had shared, still convinced his father was behind this elaborate scheme. Then the flickering of a memory came to him. Hadn’t he read somewhere that Amarran nobility sometimes stole husbands for themselves?

Besides, his father would never send women to mess with him.

Olerra had lifted him so effortlessly…

Because she had the power of her goddess and could overpower him.

That thought was unsettling. He’d only ever had to worry about his father hurting him.

He knew exactly what cruelties to expect from him.

But Princess Olerra? He knew nothing about her, save that she wanted his brother for her husband, and by his own damned idiocy, Sanos had managed to take his place.

What would she do if she learned he wasn’t Andrastus?

Kill him? Or did he risk revealing his identity and hope she would ransom him?

Sanos dismissed the thought immediately.

Either she would trade him for Andrastus—something Sanos would never allow to happen to his gentler brother—or try to ransom him to his father.

Then Atalius would kill him.

Allowing himself to be kidnapped by Amarrans? Shaming the Brutes? Embarrassing his father? The king would torture him until Sanos’s heart failed.

And then he would turn his attention to Andrastus and train him as the new heir.

Neither option was acceptable.

Sanos would just have to endure until an opportunity for escape presented itself. He would return home, and his father would be none the wiser to his previous whereabouts. He’d pass off his absence to extended birthday celebrations and then his father would beat him thoroughly for it.

But that was better than being dead and turning this fate over to his brother.

The two women pulled the cart far from the road and unhitched the horses, allowing them to graze. Ydra set about gathering wood for a fire while Olerra came to stand before him.

She’d changed out of her hooded cloak and pants.

Now she wore leather-studded armor over her torso.

It was sleeveless, exposing most of her arms, though she wore bracers at her wrists.

Her feet were covered by sturdy sandals.

A short, pleated skirt hung around her thighs, and a cape trailed to her lower back.

Now knowing she was a princess, he was shocked she showed off so much of her skin.

And gods, but there was just so much of her.

She was a big woman with an imposing presence.

It made him bring out the hardened man his father had forged from steel and a smoothed cane. “You will return me at once,” he said the moment she removed his gag.

She smiled, as though she found him amusing. “Your voice is so deep. I rather like it.”

Sanos blinked. Was she complimenting him?

“Your clothes are impractical,” he spat back.

“Is your chin pointed or square-shaped?”

“Don’t touch me!” he said as she reached out a hand.

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” she asked, but she crossed her arms and stared. Her eyes were wide as she drank him in. Were this any other situation, Sanos would have found the heated gaze extremely flattering.

“Stop looking at me,” he demanded, even as he felt his whole body warm at the attention.

“You wanted me just a few hours ago. Has something changed?”

He glared in return, not dignifying that with a response.

“I’m afraid I cannot stop looking at you, Prince. I would have an awfully hard time feeding you if I had to close my eyes.”

Feeding him? Surely she couldn’t mean to keep him restrained?

The Amarrans boiled oats and added some spices. The two sat and ate before the fire. The conversation was too quiet for him to catch, but they’d occasionally look in his direction.

He hated that.

Once done eating, Olerra brought another steaming bowl to his side. She blew on a spoonful of food before raising it to his lips.

“Untie me. I am no child.”

“I’m well aware. Twenty-four, aren’t you?

Three years my senior. Now, let’s not behave as one, hmm?

” She extended the spoon, and he wondered how she knew so much about Andrastus.

How long had she studied his brother before intending to take him?

Yet she had clearly never seen his brother before, for the two of them couldn’t be more unalike in appearance.

Andrastus always wore his hair long—well down his back.

His features were more angular. He didn’t wear a beard, and his muscles were less defined.

The only thing the Ladicus brothers shared was that white-blond hair coloring, which came from their mother.

Sanos’s stomach grumbled, yet his pride was too much. He inclined his head, but instead of wrapping his lips around the spoon, he sank his teeth into her fingers.

Her response was immediate. She dropped the hot food onto the cart, narrowly missing his crotch. One hand snaked forward to grab him by the hair. She jerked his head to the side, leaned down, and—

And bit him on the neck.

It was a territorial move, painful and somehow also arousing.

He could do no more than stare at her as she retreated, taking the cookware with her.

She’d branded him with her teeth. There was no doubt in his mind that if he looked in a mirror he would see the indents left behind. The bruising that would show soon.

Just who the fuck did she think she was?

He was a prince of Brutus. A warrior and a conqueror set to rule an entire kingdom one day.

And she’d just stolen him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

They were back on the road shortly afterward. Olerra drove the horses while Ydra napped in the bed of the cart. Sanos was tied off to one side to make room for another person. He cold barely wiggle his fingers with how much rope they’d used on him.

He was hungry. He was angry.

And no one was coming for him.

No one would even think to check on him until afternoon the next day.

But what then?

Once he didn’t return to the palace, his father would send men to find him. They’d scour the city and patrol the roads.

But they certainly wouldn’t come this way.

Atalius would never suspect the Amarrans of stealing from him. Why would they? They’d already delivered a crushing defeat on the battlefield. They’d had his father in their clutches and could have demanded anything.

Hell, they probably wouldn’t even pass a soul on the road. Because of the current contentions between the two countries, no one made the crossing from Amarra to Brutus.

Atalius would be enraged once he realized Sanos was missing. The king needed to control his sons. He especially needed his heir under his thumb.

But he wouldn’t look in the right place.

Sanos was on his own, and he needed to get home.

Who was to protect his mother and sister if not him?

Who would look after Andrastus when Atalius turned his attention to his second-born son?

Would Canus be sent to the front lines to deal with the Ephennans in Sanos’s stead?

What if the king thought Sanos had run away?

What punishments would he dole out in his fury to find him?

Sanos would escape once the opportunity presented itself, and he would kill the two women who dared to take him.

After a few hours, the women swapped places. Ydra drove the horses while Olerra climbed into the cart. She offered him some water. This time, he was too thirsty to try anything.

After he drained half the skin, Olerra wiped an errant drop from his face with her thumb.

Before he could chastise her for it, he watched as she brought it to her lips.

He wasn’t sure if he glared because he thought it was what he should do, or if it was meant to hide his other physical reactions to her.

The way his heart pounded faster. The hitch in his breath.

She was brazen and forward. He’d been surprised enough back at the brothel when she’d pushed him against the nearest hard surface, taking charge in their kissing.

He’d liked it at the time. Now he realized it must be some Amarran thing.

When she brought her own lips to the waterskin, where his were just seconds earlier, he shivered.

He pulled at his restraints, but they were as tight as before.

Olerra reclined upon the blankets at his feet and slept. She was turned toward him so he could see the smooth features of her face. Those large lips. Long feminine lashes. A light dusting of freckles on her sun-kissed cheeks. She made a face in her sleep, and a dimple appeared on one side.

He made himself stop looking at her, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious.

These women kidnapped husbands, but then what did they do with them? Would he be caged like a dog in her home? Would she give him that horrid toxin and then take him at night while he was drugged beneath her? Would he be gagged at all hours of the night and day except for meals?

His mind continued to spin out of control with possibilities, making sleep impossible. He tried to work at the ropes securing him, but they would not loosen.

The three of them spent all the next day on the road.

When Sanos was permitted to relieve himself, the one called Ydra would walk him off to the side of the road and keep a hand on his shoulder while his wrists were still bound.

He endured the humiliation of pissing while she was standing at his back.

If he tried to shrug out of her grip, she tightened her fingers.

Gods, she was strong. It was unnatural. He had no hope of getting away from her like this.

When it was night again, they erected a tent around a nearby tree and tied him to the trunk. They left the gag in while sleeping.

It was only on the second full day of travel, when the two women were well rested, that Olerra bothered to speak to him again, joining him in the back of the cart.

“I have much to teach you and so little time to do it in. What do you know of my people?”

Sanos stared at her. Did she actually expect him to cooperate?