Bloodlust (32 page)

"And what if some from within oppose us?"

Lukor kept his face blank as he met the haughty goliatha's gaze. "Then we shall become like the humans, too consumed with hatred. The division within our race may be our undoing and not the trolls. 'Tis a risk I am not willing to take. Are you?"

She nodded once, a swift, not derisive movement. "I see your point."

Good. If only he could get the majority of the rest of the goliaths and goliathas to feel the same.

From her tower, Ivy alternated between watching the goliaths flee with great haste and supervising her barbarians work with equal great haste. She should help them with the work, but knowing Glaive had most likely spread the word about her and Lukor had her hiding here.

Hiding.

Ivy, Barbaroness of the Barbarians. Twenty years old. Hiding like a frightened child.

She laughed at herself. Before she could turn around to join her men with the labor, a knock sounded at her door.

With grace, she pivoted around to see Steel before her, only inches separating them. One of the tallest barbarians at nearly eight feet, he towered over her. More muscles than man, he was a brute who destroyed most things he touched.

"Steel," she breathed, wishing she hadn't stood so close to the window that she might back up to increase the distance between them.

"What were you laughing at?" he asked, his hands bracing against the sides of the windows, barring her path to freedom.

Ivy moved to try to duck beneath his arm, but Steel's right hand went to her throat. Heavy, too warm, his palm pressed against her skin, gentler than she would have thought possible, yet she felt the strength he was holding back.

"You have such a beautiful laugh," he continued.

"I must be going." She reached to put her hands on his chest when he tightened his grip on her neck. Her vision darkened in patches, and she struggled to breathe. With a yank, he ripped off chunks of her dress. Despite only using one hand, he managed to undress himself.

Ivy struggled against him, clawing, punching, kicking. Why couldn't her Bloodlust kick in? Thunhall had been able to conjure it against a barbarian, but despite Steel's obvious want for her, by any means necessary, she couldn't find it within herself.

"No goliath will claim what is ours," he hissed, drawing her face to his. His lips pressed against hers, and she waited until his tongue tried to ease into her mouth before biting.

Blood squirted, and he jerked back. He stumbled over his discarded clothes.

Ivy seized her chance. She grabbed his arm and tugged, yanking him forward. Before Steel could react, she tossed him out the window.

With a sickening thud, he landed within the freshly dug moat, his body broken and twisted.

Her heart slamming against her ribs as her fists had his rock hard body, Ivy stared down at him. How close he had gotten to having his way with her. Her vow to the elf, and her promise to Lukor, would have been ruined, and her life would have been forfeit.

That cannot happen again.

By now, the barbarians had halted their work and rushed over to Steel's still body. Ivy stared at her ruined armored dress. From beneath her bed, she retrieved a wooden trunk that contained her mother's precious remaining belongings. After her death, Thunhall had wanted to burn it all. Ivy had managed to save most of it.

With hands that did not tremble, Ivy changed out of her ruined garb and into fresh ones. Head high, she descended the stairs and approached the drawbridge as several barbarians carried the despicable killed barbarian inside.

"Get him out of my fortress," she said, the words burning her throat like acid.

Two of the barbarians complied, although they grumbled and shot her angry glances. Helm carried Steel's head. Before he left, he grunted, and the other barbarian halted. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Must we all be careful or else we'll be killed by your hand?"

"If you truly thought you had to be careful with your tongue if you value your life, you never would have asked me such a question. Now go," she demanded.

Glaive entered as the others exited. "He's naked."

Ivy crossed her arms. "Very astute observation."

"He raped you, didn't he?"

She barked a laugh, the sound so much rougher than the gaily laugh she had enjoyed moments before Steel nearly ruined everything. "You think that little of your barbaroness that I would allow someone to defile my body?"

His knotted eyebrows and the tight line of his eyes screamed that he thought she already had.

"You told them about Lukor and me. Did you even bother to explain that my life was on the line?"

Glaive jerked back. "Not I, O Barbaroness. I would never. No, the others suspect, but I have not told them. That is on you."

A rush of relief filled her. Perhaps Glaive, at least, could be trusted because even Helm seemed cold toward her. Then the icy fingers of fear spread throughout her body. Steel had tried to take her for himself without knowing for certain about her and Lukor. When the others found out, they might well try it themselves in order to ensure their race's survival.

Not that the elf would allow her to live long enough to carry a babe until birth.

"None will try that again," Glaive said softly.

"I do not need..." She dipped her head. "Thank you."

He slipped out. Although he did not bother to bow, she didn't feel insulted by the slight. Unwilling to face the barbarians, she hurried to the kitchen and cut long strips of meat before calling everyone inside.

The meat remained in the kitchen, and the barbarians shot her horrible looks as they sat down on the benches in the mess hall.

"Yes, I killed Steel," she said without preamble.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

"He attacked and assaulted me." From beneath the closest table, she dug out her ruined dress. The metal of the armored bodice clanged against the table. "Wanted to take me as his own. Let me be quite clear, if any of you would dare to try that, the end result will be the same. I so swear it to be true."

Ivy glanced around at their hard faces. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, their swollen muscles bulging from the strain of their labor. They were working hard, and how had she repaid them?

By killing one of their own.

Glaive nodded, a serious look on his face.

Ivy swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. Her neck pained her fiercely. She could still feel Steel's hands on her, and she suppressed a shudder.

"I know you are all wondering why I haven't chosen your barbaron yet, might even be thinking that Steel had the right of things..." The lump shifted from her throat to her stomach followed by a wave of nausea. If any of them had such a despicable thought, she would not have any qualms killing them too. In a rush, she explained the deal with the elf, neglecting to mention her love for the goliath she was promised to.

But from the scowl of Glaive's face, she realized he knew.

Each of the other barbarian's wore matching expressions of fury: pinched eyebrows, whitened faces, suppressed lips, narrowed eyes, and clenched fists. Katar stared at the table, but even his shoulders were dejected.

"I know I have let you all down. I did not realize the extent of our dilemma when I agreed," she said, desperation creeping into her voice. "Believe me—"

"You should have died." Grim stood. His skin was darker than most barbarians, worn from years working beneath the sun's relentless rays. "A goliath? You disgrace us."

"Had I done that, you would still be in the same situation," she said dryly, crossing her arms. "No female to mate with."

Katar lifted his head but neglected to stand. "How many of us would have chosen death when the opportunity for life was presented to us? Ivy did what any of us would have done. To survive, we have all done questionable things, have we not?"

Glaive did stand, and all gazes turned to him. "Had Ivy died, we would have all fought each other to determine who would rule us next, even to the point that none of us might have survived. No matter how we look at it, whether or not Ivy lived, we are condemned."

The mood in the room shifted from rage to despair.

Ivy placed her hands on the table for support. "We will get through this. Do not worry."

A few faces turned stony, but some nodded. Perhaps they might come around, but it would take time, perhaps even years. Trust did not come easy to barbarians.

The sound of a new heartbeat pulsed in her ears, and Ivy turned to Helm. "A meal has been prepared for you all. Please, bring it out. I will return momentarily."

The barbarian left the room. The others were beginning to talk amongst themselves, and she hadn't the time to listen. She stalked toward the drawbridge. Outside the fortress stood a human, one she recognized.

"Prince Walter, what brings you so far from your domain?" She bristled at the lone human before her. Why could he have not brought a legion of soldiers with him and have arrived days ago?

"I have recently come into some classified information that you will find most interesting."

Words. That's all he had to offer her?

But he had come so far.

"A friend," she murmured.

"I am indeed your friend. I see you are barbaroness now. I am sorry that your father passed but am glad you are in charge. Your love for your people will guide you." He tilted his head and removed his cap, this one white, not green. "Perhaps a new age of barbarians will dawn under your rule."

She snorted. "When there is no way for barbarians to reproduce due to our limited numbers..."

"I do not understand." He scratched his head before putting on his cap.

Ivy sighed and recounted the tale yet again, including the "help" of the elf who dictated whom she should marry.

"Oh, that is not surprising."

"What do you know?" she growled.

"The elves are trying to influence changes with every race, even the humans. I was sent on a mission to kill the opposition's duke, but when I fought him, I realized he wasn't even there."

"An apparition?"

"I believe so." He crossed his arms. For a human, he had some bulk on him, although much smaller than any barbarian, male or female.

"So even the humans," she mused. How far had the elves extended their influence?

"I can only assume the dwarves too," Prince Walter continued. "And one of their goals is the extinction of the barbarians, goliaths, and trolls. By any means necessary."

"They wanted the war." She squeezed her fingers into tight fists, released, and squeezed again. Lukor rushing over to the Land of the Skulls had been exactly what the elves had wanted. For the fledging races to kill each other off would certainly make things easier for the elves.

The prince nodded. "Now comes the part I just learned. Only the highest members of nobility are privy to this information."

Oh, so that was why he had come by himself. He was sharing classified information and did not have permission to do so.

"Eons ago, once the elder races had settled in their present locations on the earth, an elder council had been formed. At the first meeting, the three representatives of the races vowed to never go to war with each other. Ever since, they have met every year or so. According to my father, dwarves have never shown since he was ordained king and started to attend them himself."

"So there was a meeting recently?" Curse his rambling tongue.

The general nodded. "King Mason had declined to help them with their venture, and that could be the only reason why they are interfering with us. We do not have the manpower to offer help to the elves or the desire frankly. The king did not tell me what exactly the elves wanted us to do nor why."

"So bold." Ivy rubbed her hand over her face.

"That they want you alive is quite strange."

"Indeed, if they do truly wish for the end of my race." She eyed him curiously. "You said you were only just told about the meetings now. Why? And how were you able to get away to tell me?"

"I am now next in line to be king." He lowered his head."

"I am so sorry for the loss of your brother."