Her Shadow Rogue Mate

Small Things

BRIAR’S POV

—

I know it’s only been hours, but it feels like we’ve been riding this damn horse for days. My ass hurts, my lower back is extremely uncomfortable and I think if I try to stretch one more time, Fnerys might just choke me out.

And let’s not start about how raw my wrists feel from this stupid rope that he tied to me, and the only reason it hasn’t gotten worse is because I’ve been focused on keeping my hands still, the only movement is my entertainment— and that is by tracing the stitching over the horn’s leather, but after hours of this…of being bound, it’s starting to ache, to hurt and burn.

I startle, nearly jumping from the saddle when Fenrys whistles right at my ear, and not the soft, sweet kind that goes with a song, but that attention grabbing, demanding whistle that breaks the hours of silence like glass.

Creseda, the black horse, stopped dead in her tracks at his command, and the stillness, the not moving felt better than bouncing along with every step of hers. I straighten my back, and something cracks in the lower half of it, letting tension free and all I felt was relief in that blissful second.

“We camp here,” Fenrys decided, and I glanced around, lips twitching in disapproval. Can’t he see the wood is wet and the ground is damp? I didn’t see any sleeping bags or camping gear, so what the hell are we supposed to sleep on?

‘We are probably sleeping on the ground.’ Cora sneers as if she were blaming me. As if this were my fault. ‘As you should.’ I retort, and she disappears— and she only does that because she knows that I’m right.

Fenrys climbed off Creseda, but I remained sitting there until I was told otherwise. I didn’t feel like prepping anything anyway, so I sat silently on the horse and watched.

Specifically, I was watching him.

He has very dark hair, but the moon gives it a blue glow, and I notice the scar in his hairline, it’s faint, but there, noticeable if anyone really looks at him.

Does he like my mother? Is that why he told me that she’s still alive?

Why not bring her to me, to see me?

My eyes absentmindedly drop to his shirt that was rising as he stretched his arms above his head, his back arching, exposing skin and abs.

I force my gaze back up to his face, where his one brow had a cut in the side, and his lips were pressed into a thin line, not out of anger, but more like frustration.

His arms came down, and something popped.

I watched as Fenrys strode to the middle of everyone, and announced his orders.

Gather rocks and wood for the fire.

So majestic of him, really.

Especially when he walked over, picking up a thick stick, and sat down on a tree’s stump, starting to carve into it.

His eyes lift to mine, and I held his stare for another moment before looking away casually all the while my blood pressure spiked.

“She’s creepy,” I hear Column tell Fenrys. I could feel his gaze on me too, which is creepier than expected.

“She’s…something,” Fenrys muttered as my gaze fell upon a smaller male, busy carrying wood over to the circle of rocks they arranged for the fire. “She’s pretty, though.” Column chuckled as if he were surprised, and I refrained from saying something.

Fenrys laughed too, and my ears perked up, “Are you jealous of her beauty?” He teased Column, and I could feel the heat creeping up my cheeks. Beauty…not pretty.

“Perhaps,” Column breathed with a strange tone, as if he were trying to control himself.

Fenrys sighed, and then mumbled, “But as I said, she’s untouchable.” My gaze flickered towards him and I noticed him standing, “I should probably let her off that horse.” He told Column and walked away— towards me.

I focused my gaze elsewhere, my hand gripping the horn of the saddle. I don’t really want to get off. I’m safe here, on Creseda. I can feel it.

Fenrys strode over, stopping really close to my leg and his hand reached out, patting down Creseda’s neck. “You can come down,” He said, and the words felt wrong, but how do I tell him that I’d rather stay on his horse?

He’ll think that I want to run away— so I suck it up and slide off Creseda, but as my feet touched the ground and my weight shifted to my legs, my knees quaked, and they were about to give out when hands grabbed me, holding me upright, “Don’t go trying to run off,” He growled, loudly and I could feel everyone glancing towards up, but their stares didn’t linger. I shake my head, “I didn’t…I wasn’t.” He stepped forward, “I know.” He whispered soft enough for only me to hear. “Do you need to take a leak?” He asks, and my eyebrows furrow, “A what?” I ask confused.

Fenrys’ shoulders fell as she sighed, pinching his nose as his eyes fluttered shut in frustration, “Do you need to pee?” He asks, and I bite my bottom lip when the males start to snicker and laugh as if a normal body function was funny.

I nod, and he grabs my arm, “Come,” He lifts his chin towards the woods when someone laughs, and says, “Alpha’s on diaper duty.”

My chest tightened, not with shame, but anger.

They are such pigs.

“Don’t mind them,” He whispered, and then adds rather loudly, “They aren’t used to women,” And I find myself smiling, but that doesn’t mean I trust the small kindnesses he has shown me.

We walked to a rather large bush, and we stopped far enough into the woods for privacy, “Are you going to run if I untie your hands?” I shake my head, “Where would I go with your hounds a few meters away?” I short back, and he grinned at me, as if it were actually funny, and undid the knot.

His eyes flicked down to my wrists as I offered it to him, offered it to the man who killed my father, my pack…

Just don’t think about it, I told myself.

Soon, I’ll have mom back at least.

Fenrys stared at my wrists as he unbound them, and something like guilt flashed across his face at the redness the rope left. He ran his thumb over the rawness, and his touch was so soft, so slow, as if he were helping an injured foul, but then the pad of his thumb got too close, and it burned enough for me to jerk back, but I said nothing and just turned, and moved behind the bush to do my business.

Emerging, each step felt heavy as I approached him, and I could see his head turn slightly as I walked up behind him, and I clear my throat. Fenrys turns, and I offer him my hands. He slowly ties them, and a little bit looser.

“I don’t get it,” I absentmindedly mutter, and my heart drops when I realized I said it out loud. Fenrys’ gaze flicked up towards me, “Don’t get what?” He asks, looking back down, and I could tell he was focusing on not hurting me.

It’s now or never, I guess.

“You.” I admit. “Why didn’t you just kill me?” Because it can’t be just because of my mother.

Fenrys’ hands froze, and his eyes flicked across my face. “I need you.” He says, and the words hit me like a freight train. “There’s something I need from you.” He clarified, and my racing heart settled a little. “And you need me to get to your mom,” He mused, but as fast as the smile crept up his face, the faster it fell, “But that’s a conversation for another time.” He finished tying the knot and then stepped back, nodding back towards the camp.

He needs me…

But for what? I have absolutely nothing to offer him.

Walking back into the camp, we go unnoticed. “Come,” Fenrys tugged me along back towards Creseda, and I watch him stroke her neck before lessening the saddle and taking it off. He worked carefully with it, as if it was important to him.

Was there something valuable in it? Or is it just something sentimental?

He put the saddle down, and then took the blanket off beneath the saddle, handing it to me, “Here.” Is all he said before bending down to the saddle and rummaged through the sack, and took out a brush.

He whistled with joy softly as he started to brush her, and my eyes were focused on the muscles in his arms as it rippled with each stroke.

“I brush her because she deserves to feel good after taking care of me.” He said, and I stare at him confused.

Am I supposed to say something? I don't understand why he even told me that.

Is it a bonding thing? To show me he isn’t some type of monster?

News flash, that won’t work.

He turned to me, eyes narrowing on the blanket in my hand, “You can sleep underneath that tonight if you want.” He shrugged, and looked back at his horse.

I turned, stared at the circle of men, and then looked at Creseda. I guess it’s safer to sleep next to her.

Walking around her, I lay down near her under the tree, and try my best to cover myself completely with bound hands.

I lay down with my hands underneath my head, and close my eyes.

Not to sleep, but just to wait.