Page 10 of The Hidden
“No,” I yell in objection, and I start to work harder to try and get away from Zeph.We are not okay; do you not see that I’m naked and being manhandled? We’re about as far from being okay as it fucking gets! Where are you going?I scream at my gryphon, but she disappears all the same.
I try to stretch out my wings to break Zeph’s hold and wiggle away, but he just pins me tighter to him. My gryphon doesn’t respond to anything that’s happening to me this time, and impotent frustration barrels through me. I kick, claw and punch at anything I can, but Zeph just chuckles in my ear, pissing me off even more. I grit my teeth and screech out my anger. I pull a solid bitch move and grab a fist full of his black wavy locks and yank hard.
Zeph bites me.
Not hard enough to draw blood, but he chomps down on where my neck meets my shoulder and applies pressure until his meaning is clear. He’s seen my bitch move and raised me a bitch move.
I let go of his hair, and he releases his teeth from my neck. He starts to frog-march me back to the water’s edge, his big body herding me exactly where he wants me to go. I pretend the goose bumps that rise all over my body are from the cold and not in any response to his dominant behavior. I’ve always liked somefightin my partners, but I’ve never experienced anything like this before. In the past, I’ve always ended up being the dominant person in my relationships, and as much as I’ve fantasized about finding a big alpha asshole, now that one is holding me by the nape and marching me somewhere I don’t want to go, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of it.
“Don’t move,” Zeph warns me when we get to the rocky lip of the pool I was cleaning up in previously, and his grip loosens from my nape.
I immediately dash to the right, but Zeph reaches out and plucks me back to where he wants me. We repeat this a couple more times before I accept that I’m not getting away. I stare daggers at him as he reaches down and starts to unlace the black leather armor he’s wearing. I can’t seem to look away as he unties his vest on one side and then slips it and the black undershirt off. I take in all seven plus feet of him, every inch hard muscle covered in soft olive-toned skin, dusted with black hair on his chest, arms, and the happy trail that leads into his pants. He reaches down and starts to undo the laces at his crotch, and my fascination turns into panic.
A weird keening sound escapes me as terror bubbles up my throat. My wings seem to spring into action of their own accord and start to flap furiously in an effort to get me the fuck out of here. Zeph’s honey-dipped gaze snaps up to mine, and his eyes widen at the fear he must see there. He takes a step toward me as I lift off of the ground, but arms wrap around me from behind, and I scream and thrash to get out of Ryn’s hold.
“You’re okay,” he tells me over and over again. I fucking hate that tears start to stream down my cheeks as I rage and swear and fight as hard as I can to get away. My gryphon doesn’t even stir, and I curse her and them and my grandmother for getting me into this situation. I’ve never felt so fucking helpless in my life, and if I make it out of this alive, I will do everything I can to never feel this way again.
“I will fucking die before I let you rape me,” I screech at them, and I slam my head back, hoping it connects with Ryn’s face somehow and breaks something, but the fucker is too tall, and all I manage to slam into is his muscled chest.
Zeph freezes, and his eyes flash with something as a growl slips out of his mouth. “We would never dishonor a woman or ourselves in that way,” he tells me, and I think I catch a flicker of hurt in his eyes before indignation snuffs it out.
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” I ask, confused, my eyes dipping to the untied laces of his pants.
“We have to cleanse you,” Ryn tells me, and his hold on me loosens ever so slightly.
“Yeah, you keep saying that, but what the fuck does thatmean?” I demand.
“We have to make sure you’re not here to hurt us or the pride. We can only confirm that by making sure you and the truth aren’t cloaked in magic somehow,” Zeph tells me, his voice a deep rumble. “Every inch of you will be washed with the tears of clarity, and then you’ll be scrubbed clean with verity moss. Once that’s been done, you will take a tincture made from axiom leaf. We will question you again, and then the truth in what you’re saying will be certain and unquestionable,” he tells me as if it’s all so simple.
I picture his hands on my body as he works to rid me of magic I don’t even have, and heat flutters through my stomach. “Fine,” I tell him, and Zeph’s mouth hangs open for a second in surprise. “I’ll bathe in whatever you want, but I can do it myself. I don’t want either of you touching me.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Ryn starts to say, but I cut him off.
“Then youdodishonor me,” I accuse, using the term that Zeph did and trying to ignore the fact that I sound like the dragon from Mulan.
Zeph growls and steps into me, pressing me deliciously between him and Ryn. “I will not risk the lives of many for the discomfort of one,” he snarls at me. “This is a necessity, not an act of gratification,” he declares, and the look he gives me as he does has me feeling like a bug he’d rather crush under his shoe than touch.
I look away from the scathing judgement in his eyes. “And when this is done, I can go home?” I ask, my voice small as the fight in me slowly drifts away.
“We’ll do what we can, yes,” Ryn tells me, and he drops his strong arms from my body.
I don’t miss the fact that what he just said wasn’t actually ayes, but I don’t challenge it. “Fine,” I consent, and I side step out of the gryphon sandwich I’m currently liking way too much. I spread my arms out in invitation and wait for them to do whatever they need to do.
Zeph gives a slight nod to Ryn, who picks up a glass bottle of clear liquid. He grabs the now empty brown leather bag that he brought everything in and bends over to fill it with warm water from the pool. He hands the waterskin to Zeph who grabs it and holds it in front of Ryn. Ryn pours some of the clear liquid into the pouch of steaming water, and Zeph cinches the top with a meaty hand and shakes the water inside.
“Tip your head back,” Zeph orders me, but I just stare at him unmoving.
“We will start with your hair, then your face, arms, torso, hips, legs, and lastly your feet,” he informs me, and I swear his voice gets deeper with each listed part of my body.
I do as I’m told, and as soon as my face is turned up to the sky, Zeph pours the contents of the skin slowly and carefully through my hair. I gasp in surprise when Ryn’s fingers comb through my locks, and he works the tears-of-clarity-laced water into my scalp like an award winning head masseuse. I have to actively battle against the satisfied groan that tries to sneak out of me as Zeph pours warm water on my head and Ryn’s magic fingers go to work. It’s over before I want it to be, and I try to mask my humph of disapproval with a cough.
The waterskin is refilled and mixed, and I hold my breath as it’s poured over my face, neck and chest. My eyes snap open, and I freeze when Ryn reaches around me from behind and cups the bottoms of my breasts ensuring water makes its way under them. It’s clear they have a no-nook-or-cranny-left-untouched policy at work, and my heart picks up as water is poured on me and Ryn’s hands move down my body. I shouldnotbe fucking enjoying this, but there’s no hiding the truth from myself, because for whatever reason, I really fucking am.
I put full blame on my bitch of a gryphon who is apparently pumping some baser animal need through me to combat the good sense I was born with. She may be all for this alphado what I saybullshit, but I don’t want to be. Usually I can count on a little sharp wit coupled with a venomous retort to get me out of most sticky situations. But mouthing off gets me nowhere here. They’re bigger and stronger than I am, and they have the added bonus of knowing where the fuck they are.
Ryn’s hands move down to my hips, and he brings them in to skim my lower abdomen. Lust and alarm war inside of me, and I step back from his touch.
“I willcleansethat myself, asshole, thank you very much,” I snap at him with a glare. I reach my hands out and cup my palms together and wait for Zeph to pour the water in my bowled palms. I stand like that for a couple beats, waiting to see if they’ll argue, but as warm water fills my hands, relief washes through me.
