Free Willing Sacrifice by Shannon K. Butcher Page B

plastered against him from knees to breasts, which made her heart pound even faster.
    “It was just an animal,” he whispered.
    Fear trickled out of her but was instantly replaced by something else—something hot and laced with excitement. It was as though her skin had suddenly come to life, allowing her to feel things she’d never noticed before.
    The breeze swept past her, lifting fine hairs away from her nape. Each of his fingers at her back flexed slightly, as if he were trying to resist stroking her. The leather of her tunic was clinging softly to her thighs. Her legs were bare beneath the hem, and the worn softness of his pants made her want to rub against him. Or maybe it was the man beneath that created such an odd urge.
    His head angled down and he stared at her mouth. She licked her lips, just in case there was some stray bit of food lingering there. She couldn’t stand the thought of embarrassing herself like that in front of this man.
    The bright amber of his eyes darkened until only a slender rim of color remained. For some reason, seeing that change in his gaze excited her until her insides were squirming with the desire to get closer.
    Not that there was much closer to get. Not with their clothes on.
    Her fingers clenched involuntarily against his bare chest. She could have sworn she could feel his pulse speed up and a wave of heat spill out of his skin.
    Slowly, his fingers relaxed on hers, allowing her to pull her weapon hand from his grip. “I’m sorry. I could have hurt you.”
    He swallowed twice. “Not with that toy. If you want to fight, you need a real weapon.”
    “I’m not allowed to fight. Brenya says I’m too fragile.”
    “You are fragile, which is why you need to know how to protect yourself.”
    “No one will teach me.”
    “I will.”
    His easy agreement made her suspicious. “Why?”
    “Because I don’t know how long I’ll be around to keep you safe. I want to make sure you know how to do the job yourself.”
    “That’s what I keep telling the women—I should be able to protect myself.”
    “What do they say to that?”
    “I should just stay in the village where I can’t get hurt.”
    “I’d scoff at them for that, but I remember telling a young woman much like you much the same thing—to stay inside the walls of Dabyr where she’d be safe.”
    “And was she?”
    “No. She almost died inside those walls.” Torr released her and turned his back.
    A thick wave of cold slunk along the ground, gripping her ankles. Before she could so much as gasp, that cold swelled up from the ground, enveloping her.
    There was no question what it was. The Hunters were here.

Chapter 8
    G race grabbed Torr’s arm as she darted past him, forcing him to run. He could practically feel the panic spilling out of her as she crashed through the brush.
    He spared a quick look over his shoulder and saw what had made her take off.
    Hunters.
    Two glittering black creatures charged after them, their target clear. Their skin looked like it had been forged from volcanic glass, chipped to a razor edge. They were tall and narrow, with sinuous, fish-shaped bodies that easily slashed through dense terrain. They traveled on four legs, the top of their backs at about eye level on Torr—just over six feet. From the tremors shaking the ground as they ran, they probably outweighed him by a lot.
    Grace was ahead of him, but nowhere near as fast as the things behind him.
    He drew his sword, gripped it in both hands and powered the blade through a tree as they passed, knocking it down behind him. The Hunters weren’t even slowed down. They tore right through it like it was no more than a twig, cutting it cleanly into logs.
    If Grace didn’t run faster, these things were going to be slicing through her in a matter of seconds.
    Torr picked up speed, grabbing Grace around the waist as he went. Her feet barely touched the ground as they ran. He could hear her rapid breathing, feel her muscles straining to keep