Free Bound by C.K. Bryant

all.

 
     
     
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
    When Kira finally woke, it took her a few
moments to remember what had happened and where she was. Octavion
stood a few feet away, tending a fire. He placed two large logs
atop an already roaring display of flames. Small streams of light
filtered through the trees and touched the forest floor, making his
image a bit hazy. She barely recognized this place as the clearing
she’d first been brought to. The sun made it seem a lot less scary
and mysterious.
    To her right, a small structure came into
view, a lean-to covered with branches and pine boughs, and
decorated with feathers, glass beads, and small swatches of colored
fabric. Just inside, Lydia lay on a pile of what appeared to be
animal pelts, her covers made up of several layers of fabric and
tapestries, their pattern and texture unlike anything Kira had ever
seen. Lydia’s face had a healthy glow. Her eyes were closed—her
face at peace.
    Kira tried to pull herself up to get a better
look at her surroundings, but her aching muscles betrayed her.
Every joint in her body felt stiff and sore and she had one whopper
of a headache. She rolled onto her back, expecting to see the blue
sky through the branches above her, but instead discovered she also
lay in a lean-to. It was slightly larger than the other, but
without decoration. Like Lydia, she rested on a bed of animal
pelts, but Kira’s covering was different—a plain tan weave
intertwined with a white, satin-like thread. This must be
his , she thought.
    Kira tried to swallow, finding no moisture to
quench her dry mouth. She peeled her lips apart to speak, but
nothing came. She pushed back the covers in an attempt to get
Octavion’s attention.
    “Kira, be still.” His voice was heavy, yet
gentle. Within seconds, he knelt at her side, his brow furrowed
with genuine concern. “You need to rest.”
    She opened her mouth, trying to force her
words again, but they came out as a whisper. “I’m thirsty,” she
managed to squeak. She tried to clear her throat.
    He nodded, then lifted her to sit against the
sturdy log wall of the lean-to. She cringed as the muscles on her
right side tensed, pressing against her tender ribs.
    “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
    Kira lifted her shirt just enough to expose a
dark bruise the size of a man’s boot. “No, they’re just a little
sore.”
    A low grumbling sound escaped his chest. He
touched the tender flesh with the tip of his fingers, putting
gentle pressure on several of her ribs. “Does that hurt?”
    She tensed. “A little,” she confessed,
lowering her shirt. “I don’t think they’re broken, just
bruised.”
    His focus was still on her side, even though
the fabric covered the evidence of her attack. “Did I do that?”
    “No, that stupid blonde guy kicked me.”
    Octavion turned his head to one side, as if
looking for something through the trees. “Perhaps I should teach
those boys a lesson before I release them.”
    “They’re still here?” she squeaked out again,
her throat still begging for water.
    He nodded. “It is a slow process, and I must
be careful not to miss anything. Our lives depend on it.”
    “Process? What are you doing to them?”
    “They have seen too much. I am merely helping
them forget.”
    He adjusted her blanket and reached behind
him to pull a large leather bag from one of the shelter’s
supporting branches. At the smaller end of the bag was a plug. He
pulled it loose with his teeth and pressed the opening to her lips.
At first, the water trickled onto her tongue, barely satisfying her
thirst. She grabbed his hands and brought it closer, pouring water
into her mouth and spilling it over her face and onto the
blanket.
    “Easy,” he said, pulling it back. “Too much
will make you sick.”
    Leaving her hands on his, she looked into his
eyes. The last thing she should have been thinking was how
strikingly handsome he was, but for an instant, she allowed herself
the luxury. In addition to his