A God Of War's Hound Ch. 03

Anikai Kylrie, half-mortal daughter of Sanro Kylrie and the Goddess of the Lost, Anighi, was going to die soon. The dreadlocked maiden had just reached the age of maturity yesterday and her life was already forfeit. She would have laughed had it not been for the painful bruises blooming on her chapped lips. She licked her full bottom lip out of habit, tasting blood and dirt. Anikai watched as her island, her home, receded into the stark blue horizon. Everything was blue; the cloud-spotted sky above her, the sparkling sea below her, even the ship's flag was a crisp cobalt hue. She was the sharp contrast. Her night painted skin shown like obsidian. Her clothes, unlike her grim captors', were adorned with bright feathers and beads of every color. Although it had all been beautiful and perfect for yesterday's feasts, today it was tattered and did very little for covering her young lithe body. Anikai hardly cared about modesty. Especially as she was shackled and chained and about to die.

"I am genuinely surprised with your silence. Although, from what I heard from Hevro, you did not board the ship silently. And from what I saw, my Hound is bearing his own wounds. I suppose that was to be expected, I did send a pup after a goddess's daughter." A large wall of a man stood above Anikai, blocking her view and the sun. Guessing from his arrogant stance, this was the captain. Anikai, sitting on a crate, had to crane her neck upward in order to meet the man's gaze.

"Release me from these shackles and I can show you how I left his sorry ass that way." Anikai hissed back, putting as much venom as she could into every word. It took everything in her virgin body not to shrink away from him. She could have sworn she saw a corner of his lip quirk.

"As much as I would love to," he crouched suddenly. Now, Anikai could make out his features. She wished she hadn't. He was beautiful. Too beautiful, even. And young, he can only be six years older, at most. Everyone on her island was dark, Anikai being the darkest, but he was like the sand on her favorite beach. Light and unmarred. His cobalt blue eyes held arrogance, amusement, and something lethal swimming in their depths. Hair the color of spun gold hung over his thick brow in lazy waves. Unlike the other feral looking men aboard the ship, this one had an air about him. He seemed far too refined to be joined with the wild brutes stalking to and fro. But that is just what mortals see on the surface. Anikai saw far past that. Power, raw and entirely masculine power, hummed in the air around him. Anikai could feel it brush against her, like a beast tasting a new prey. On an almost physical level, she felt as if she were being licked.

"I have orders to keep your beautifully dangerous body tethered to this ship for now." His light eyes danced across her face. They seemed to pause at every cut and bruise. His gaze lingered on her full lips.

"Well now I know that you are not the one in charge. I assume I am going to be used and then butchered? Or will my corpse be more useful to you, sir?" Anikai resisted the urge to bite her lower lip. It was her nervous habit and she'd be damned before she allowed this beautiful monster to see her afraid. A low rumble of a chuckle escaped the man. Anikai felt the sensation of being licked again.

"I am far from a sir. My name is Kahlil. Also, you are not here to die. Corentine will explain everything. I am simply here to ensure that the other Hounds keep their paws off you." Anikai noticed how smoothly the name Corentine slid off his polite tongue. Hearing that she was not going to die so soon relieved her somewhat. But he didn't say that I am not going to be used, she thought to herself.

Just then another figure appeared behind Kahlil. This one was considerably smaller than the rest, but still much taller than Anikai. The newcomer released a low whistle.

"I guess it's true what they say about the children of gods. She's far out of your reach Khalil, even in her current state." A woman, Anikai noted. She also noted the change in Kahlil. There was a tension in his frame that was not there a moment ago. Interesting. The woman sniffed.

"I have to discuss matters with a few of the others. Take her below to get cleaned up. Be gentle, I do not want her thinking she's in danger more than she does already. Anikai, I will see you this evening and I will explain everything. Trust me." The last two words sounded like a command more than a request. The woman departed silently while Kahlil straightened back into his towering height. So that was Corentine. Anikai almost wished she could have seen what the woman looked like at that moment.

With a few efficient movements, Kahlil had Anikai unchained and draped over his broad shoulder. Anikai felt tiny and fragile. Yesterday marked her entrance into womanhood and yet she felt like a child's doll atop his shoulder. She stared the hard plains of his backside as he carried her below deck and into a cabin at the far end. Her shackles sounded with every step. She heard a door open and close. Somehow, being alone in a small cabin with a beautiful stranger while shackled was much more frightening than imminent death. Escaping was obviously the most unlikely possibility. Even if she managed to make it out of this room, she was on stranded on a ship filled with dangerous men. Her instincts told her that being left with Kahlil was her safest bet. He was also the most dangerous.

Kahlil positioned Anikai so that she could slide off him, but lightly held on with a forearm to backs of her thighs so that the process was slow. She felt every hard muscle beneath his cotton shirt on her way down. Anikai was sure he felt every soft inch of her in return. Damn him and these torn garments. She flinched in surprise when a large calloused hand grazed an exposed part of her thigh. The touch sent a strange tingling sensation up toward the area below her naval. When her restrained feet finally touched the cold wooden floor, Anikai immediately took several clumsy steps back. She refused to look at him while he softly chuckled at her embarrassment. He was toying with her.

Anikai glanced about the cabin, suspecting to find something worth noting. It was a simple and average room. A large bed resided at the center, swallowing up most of the cabin space. At the foot of the bed stood a low table with a wash basin, rags, and a large pitcher atop it. A small wooden dresser squatted in a corner. Numerous lanterns littered the cabin, providing welcoming warm light. Not a single weapon or torture device in sight. They could be elsewhere. Don't be fooled. Anikai glanced back at Kahlil, only to find him staring back. It felt as if he could see through her and knew just what to do to throw off her balance. She had never felt so exposed and self-aware before. Seeing the smug half-grin curling on his face, Anikai snapped.

"Don't you have orders to attend to me?" She purred, allowing all of the ire she felt to show in her eyes. Captive or not, she was the proud daughter of a goddess and will not be the plaything of some infuriatingly gorgeous prick. Kahlil slid a glance slowly toward the wash bin and rags, then rested on Anikai again. His grin only grew. It was a thing made for bedrooms and secrets. A shiver crawled up her spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. In all of her nineteen years, she had never felt something like this before. Anikai felt the frown shaping her brows before she could stop it. Damn him.

"Of course." Kahlil stalked toward her suddenly, like a starved jungle cat. He had her hands pinned within one of his own before she could protest. His grip was unrelenting as he dragged her toward the bed. Anikai's heart began to thunder in her throat. She was not ready for this. She would rather die than be ravished by a barbarian.

"No use in screaming." Kahlil's low voice felt like nails scraping along her skin. He tossed her onto the bed as if she weighed little more than a doll. The shackles around her ankles dug into her skin as she laid splayed out before him. She refused to beg for mercy and would bite her own tongue off before she screamed. Anikai's eyes blurred. No, you are not going to be weak. It will end soon. Bear it, survive it.

Kahlil fetched the wash supplies.

Anikai watched with a held breath as he poured water into the basin and soaked a rag. His hands were efficient, not a wasted movement to be seen. With a frighteningly gentle grip, Kahlil began washing her left foot. Anikai released her trapped breath slowly. She remained tense and watchful as he made his way up her leg. The tattered skirt was pushed to either side of Anikai's hips, barely covering the apex of her thighs. Her now clean skin looked even blacker beneath his fair arms. Night and day. Not one word was spoken as he worked on her other leg, occasionally rinsing out the rag. His touch, though unwelcomed, was not unpleasant. Kahlil did not linger anywhere nor skip a single inch of skin. Efficient. Precise. Anikai hissed when the cool rag covered a particularly nasty cut on her inner thigh. She had somehow cut herself there when she was fleeing from the red haired brute named Hevro. Khalil glanced at her.

"I'm sorry." The words were said so quietly, Anikai almost didn't hear them. There was no mocking tone in his rough voice. Kahlil cleaned the wound with feathery touches. After one final stroke to the cut, he was done with her legs.

Kahlil pulled Anikai into a sitting position. The sudden elevation left her momentarily light-headed. They were much closer now. Even sitting, she was far smaller than him and had to lean her head back to look at Kahlil's face. He was kneeling but their size difference still made him loom over her. Anikai's breath hitched.

He tended to her arms like he had for her legs, quickly. He was gentle on her cuts and bruises, which baffled Anikai. She would not voice her confusion, however. After another rinse, Kahlil brought the rag to Anikai's neck. The cool touch of it felt so good, she closed her eyes and released a soft moan. His hand stilled. Remembering her position, Anikai snapped her eyes open. Her face felt hot as she stared pointedly at the door. Thank the gods I'm too dark to blush.

Kahlil resumed his task, this time slowly. He gently brushed her beaded dreadlocks away from her chest and replaced them with the rag. Her low-cut tunic was in better wear than her skirt, but did little to cover her perked breasts. Her breathing had grown uneven. Anikai knew Kahlil had noticed because nothing seemed to escape his attention. The rag slid over a breast, wetting her nipple through the fabric. She refused to look at him, opting to glare at the door. Or at least she had planned to before a bare hand grazed her erect nipple. A small gasp escaped. An electrifying sensation shot down her body toward her core. Her bent knees pressed together on their own accord. He leaned against her legs. Her other nipple was teased in the same way. The combination of the cold wetness and warm touch did something to her that she failed to comprehend. Her mind felt clouded and her eyes slid shut. His hands were everywhere then. On her throat, collarbone, ribs, waist. Her skin felt hot and cold, soft and taut like a bowstring.

She did not remember being laid back down but when his weight settled on her, she did not care. Rough hands and soft lips bombarded her skin lightly. Too lightly. She needed more. Her hips pressed up toward him. A low growl of approval responded. Something large and rock hard pressed against her mound. Oh my gods, that's his...

Anikai's back arched. She exposed her neck to him in some animalistic ritual and was rewarded with his hot mouth. Teeth and tongue grazed her throat, forcing low whines out from her. More. More. Heavy breathing filled the cabin as she ground out her frustration against his hips. Thin fabrics were all that separated them. His lips made their way up over her delicate jaw, tasting her, drinking her in. When he reached her lips, he paused. They stared at each other for a moment, sharing each breath. He waited. She nodded. His lips crashed onto her bruised mouth. Or perhaps it was her lips that crashed onto his. Either way, the result was a collision of the sun and moon. Nothing existed past his mouth. Her first kiss and it was scorching her being. She was being devoured by fire and wanted more. Needed more. He moaned as she nipped his lip. Another whine escaped her sore swollen lips. Anikai welcomed the pain.

A hand slipped beneath the torn remains of her skirt, meeting the pooling wetness. Kahlil swore lowly. Anikai's hips bucked when a finger slid along her sex. A heartbeat passed. He slid inside of her. Anikai cried out as the finger sank deep within her. Kahlil was slow with his thrusts. He skillfully brought her to the edge of oblivion. The passion grew unbearable and tears escaped her eyes. They panted in unison as he worked another finger into her tight walls. Anikai felt herself stretch to accommodate it, but she was far away, hovering on the edge. Above her, Kahlil vibrated with restraint. His gaze was heavy and dark. Anikai reached up and pressed her shackled hands on either side of his face.

The door burst open.

"The point of me assigning her to you was to prevent something like from happening." A familiar voice called out. Anikai felt the cool air before she realized Kahlil had left her. He stood at the side of the bed, hand running through his tousled golden locks. He did not look at her. A wall settled somewhere between them and within her. The woman from earlier leaned against the doorframe. Anikai slowly sat up, clumsy due to the shackles. She mustered whatever dignity remained and met the woman's amused gaze.

The woman was stunning. Tall and willowy, with just enough lean tan muscle to show she was stronger than meets the eye. Her dark eyes were large and danced with storm-like intensity, unlike Anikai's gentle feline ones. High cheekbones cut sharply onto the woman's face, giving her a refined beauty of the northern kingdoms. Sensual pink lips were curled into a cat-like grin. But that wasn't the only thing Anikai now viewed. She saw the woman's staggering power whirl around her. It reached out to Anikai from across the room and pressed down on her hard, as if trying to smother her.

"It seems I chose a Hound in heat, I apologize for my lack of foresight. I came to retrieve you. It seems I'll have to wait a few more minutes while you freshen up. Kahlil will show you to my cabin when you're ready." With a final sharp look at Kahlil, the woman sauntered away. Her heavy black tresses were the last thing Anikai saw before the door closed once more. Anikai dragged herself to the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. Kahlil silently offered a hand. She ignored him and stood. She dunked her hands into the wash basin and clumsily rinsed off her inner thighs. She welcomed the cold water, allowing it to chase off the dying heat inside of her. Foolish. That's what she was. Shallow, reckless, and a foolish virgin. She allowed herself to be swept away by lust for a man who cared for no one but the storm-eyed woman. The cling of the shackles brought her fully back to reality. She was a captive. She did not know these people or their intentions. She did not know Kahlil. This was a fool's moment that will never repeat itself.

"I am not here to warm your bed in her place. Tell me where her cabin is and then leave me alone, sir." Without a backward glance, she left the cabin. Anikai felt rather than heard Kahlil trail after her.