Free State of Grace (Resurrection) by Elizabeth Davies

rattled and my neck hurt with the force of it and I hoped I wasn’t going to have a whiplash from this. The man stopped shaking me and I was grateful I wasn’t crushed up against him anymore. I tipped my sore neck back and looked up at my captor as I drew in a breath to scream. His face was contorted into a snarl, and I caught a glimpse of white canine teeth, sharply pointed and very, very long. I recognised him the same instant that he recognised me and I let out a breath in a silent whoosh. Screaming would do me no good at all.
     
    ‘Tu!’ he exclaimed, almost letti ng go of me in surprise. I tried to twist from his grasp, turning to run but he tightened his grip on me. I was going to have some impressive bruises if he kept that up, so I gave in and held still, acknowledging his vastly superior strength, biding my time.
     
    ‘Two, what?’ I gasped, staring at his mouth in shock. As I watched, the canines disappeared, and I briefly wondered if my over-burdened brain had imagined them. His face was perfectly normal, just a hint of surprise lingering in his expression. He let go of one arm and put a finger to his lips, narrowing his eyes at me until he was certain I would keep quiet. Satisfied, he let go of my other arm then whirled, grabbing my wrist so swiftly I was almost pulled off balance, my feet scrabbling frantically in an effort to stay upright. He barked out a sharp command and dragged me up the stairs. His grip was like steel and I had no choice but to follow him, my ankles banging painfully on the stone as I tried to keep up.
     
    I was breathless and becoming more than a little cross at this swift flight upwards, when we reached a landing with a dark, stone corridor leading away from it. The steps continued onwards up into blackness, and I was glad when he pulled me behind him along the passageway. I didn’t like the look of those stairs. He towed me down to the far end of the corridor, and stopped when he came to the last door, a sturdy wooden affair with a large wrought iron ring on one side. He turned it and the door opened slowly. I expected a creepy, creaking noise, but it opened soundlessly. I think I might have been disappointed.
     
    He glanced back to make sure I stayed silent, and reassured that I was, he poked his head through the opening. His shoulders and then the rest of him quickly followed and he yanked me in after him, shutting the door firmly once I was safely inside.
     
    I looked around curiously, half of me hoping that he had rescued me and half of me wondering if there was another way out. Just in case. A bed dominated the room, covered in thick fabric and – was that fur? Yuk. Rugs covered the floor (a welcome relief to my freezing feet) and draped down the stone hewn walls, and a fire burned in the hearth. Candles in wall sconces lit the room flickering in the draft from the recently opened door, and several large wooden chests were dotted around, shoved up against the walls. The room was deliciously warm and snug, despite its size.
     
    Now I had had a chance to orientate myself I became very aware of him. He was leaning casually against the door, legs crossed at the ankle, and arms folded across his broad chest. He was wearing what I thought of as breeches, soft, calf length boots and a white tunic, belted at the waist and open at the throat. He looked like a pirate, and his black shoulder length hair did nothing to dispel that image.
     
    He returned my stare sardonically, a small smile playing about his mouth. His eyes locked on to mine for a second then deliberately, insolently, dropped down the length of me. I watched his face. His smile widened as he reached my breasts; he obviously liked what he saw. When his gaze took in my extremely naked cleft, he grunted in surprise.
     
    Acutely aware I had no clothes on, I backed up against the bed, my knees suddenly giving out and I sat down abruptly. I grabbed at one of the furs and draped it over my front. He chuckled softly, his