A Nymph Without Mercy
IX

They had been havingsuch a pleasant morning.

She had dreamed ofhis sweetness and his touches and his care, and he had nearly fulfilled suchhopes when he gave her breakfast. And not only was she grateful for the food,but even more meaningful for her was the way he had wrapped her in his cloak—hehad foregone his own comforts to see to hers.

And she was deeplytouched, as he did not seem the kind of man to make such displays very often.

So she tucked awaysuch moments in her heart, even as she sat against the great oak behind her,her wrist bound but otherwise unharmed. Eventually the tears had faded and shewas left feeling morose—and, she could not deny, angry.

She had seen kindnessin him. When he spoke of his horse, of Callum, there was genuine affection inhis voice that gave her hope—but as he had grabbed her and bound her, sherealised that he still had much to learn about the ways of bonding. No dryonfrom the High City would ever haveabandoned their mate in such a manner.

He wanted her to trust him. Trust that he would return,that his desertion would not be forever.

She tugged at therope once more, surprised to see it give slightly the harder she pulled.

And though tearsprickled her eyes at the realisation, she decided that though he was boorishand terribly wrong to have done thisto her, he was too afraid of hurting her to make the bonds too tight.

Now that she was calmenough to see how simple it was to escape, she did so hurriedly, determined towaste no more time with her ridiculous hysterics. She would remember theprogress they had made as they spoke civilly, how he had allowed her firstchoice of their breakfast and had even provided cool water to quench herthirst.

She kept the strip ofhis tunic around her wrist, drawing comfort from its presence. While his deedhad been foolish, the fact that he had thought to protect her delicate skinfrom the rough abrasion of the rope meant something to her—despite himself, hecared for her.

So she left it on andrubbed at it absently, her eyes closed as she tried to call upon the bond.

The more sheconsidered her bond-mate and the thoughtfulness he had shown her just recently,the warmer she began to feel, and a gentle pull settled on her heart that drewher eastward.

She quickly took upthe rest of the things he had left. While she intended to scold him quitefirmly for his actions, she did not want him to be cross for her abandoning therest of his things. He had left the flagon of water and a few biscuits for herand she tucked them into a pocket she found in his cloak. Finally she coiledthe rope about her arm and placed it within yet another hidden fold, whichoddly seemed suited for that purpose.

And then putting herfaith in the almost non-existent tether that beckoned her forward, shedeparted.

Mairi had no memoryof Garrick stopping for the night. Never in her life had she required as muchsleep as she now seemed to, and she could not say that she relished this newdevelopment. Before her tree would quiet at twilight, and cool night breezeswould lull it into slumber with her nestled in its branches.

But things weredifferent now.

So very different.

Garrick’s smallencampment had been away from the road, but not so far that it was difficult toreplace it again. She noted with an indignant sniff that it would still have beenhighly possible for other men-folk to have stumbled upon her should she haveremained tied to the oak, and she was certain that not all of them would havebeen so helpful and amiable as the ones she had met thus far. Her ire prickledanew to think that her bond-mate could have left her in such danger, withnothing to defend herself—not even the ability to quickly climb a tree and hideif necessary.

The bottoms of herfeet were sore from the many stones and twigs that were embedded in thehard-packed earth of road, and she grumbled as she walked, wishing she was oncemore in Garrick’s arms as they road steadily onward on Callum. Now that sheknew his name she would like a proper introduction, perhaps if she was evenbrave enough she could touch the large nose that from afar looked so very soft.

Her pace quickened atthe thought.

Before long shereached a village, larger than the small scattering of buildings that thetavern had been nestled between but not even remotely as impressive as the HighCity. Of course, it was difficult to compare the two civilisations, as humansappeared to make their shelters out of stone and mortar with thatched roofsinstead of what was naturally supplied.

And she noticed withdismay that even her recollections of her beloved home seemed hazy, almost asif a dream from long ago.

For a moment shehesitated as to her direction and she turned abruptly at a whiff of somethingscrumptious diverted her attention from her rapidly deteriorating mood.

She had entered whatappeared to be the centre of the town, as buildings flanked a large circle thatwas bustling with people. Wooden stalls with various wares were scatteredabout, with burly men and shrewd women calling out their goods.

Mairi shrank back,not at all prepared to face such a crowd without her bond-mate there to guideher.

The noise wasdeafening as carts clamoured over cobblestones, and she saw two men come toblows when a barter soured.

She wanted herbond-mate.

And she wanted him now.

She took a carefulstep back hoping that no one noticed her, and she felt the gentle pull of theirbond drawing down a narrow opening between two neat rows of shops, and she feltgrateful that Garrick should have found a quieter place for disappearing.

Mairi hurried onward,excitement growing at being reunited with him. Her brief encounter with people had made her forgive his brashaction at tying her to the tree and leaving her, so grateful was she for theidea of his company once more.

She was not preparedfor when she saw him.

There was nomistaking him, not only from the slight pull of her heart that made it soabundantly clear that this was in fact her mate, but also because of histowering height over the man with him. At her first fleeting look it appearedhe was embracing the man from behind, his arms coming around him as the manstruggled.

But soon she saw theglint of a dagger as it sliced cleanly through the man’s neck, and Garrickreleased him hurriedly.

And feeling utterlydetached from what she witnessed, Mairi realised he had allowed the man tocrumple forward, hands desperately clutching at the wound at his neck, simplyso that the blood that gushed forth so freely would not splatter on his armour.

“Why is it red?”

Garrick’s attentionsnapped to hers, and the way his eyes glowed like molten embers she wished shehad remained silent.

He was furious.

And when he stalkedforward she could not help but step backward, suddenly desiring with all herheart that she was once more bound to that tree.

“What are you doinghere?” His voice was a low hiss that shuddered through her, and she clutchedhis cloak tighter about her, even as she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

She would not cry.

He might be tall andhave just killed a man, but he was her mate and it was not possible that hewould hurt her.

But as he stared ather with such rage that nearly bordered on hatred, for the first time sherealised that perhaps a dryon might never harm his nymph, but there was nothingin their history that could assure her that a human mate might be able to keephimself from striking her.

She swallowed, everyanswer that her mind supplied feeling wholly inadequate for quieting histemper. So instead she took a steadying breath, trying to force herself tocalm, even as she wanted to chastise him for leaving her, even as she wanted tobeg him not to hurt her.

So instead she tuggedat his cloak and stood taller, proud when her voice did not waver as much asshe would have anticipated given how tight her throat had constricted. “Why ishis blood red?”

Garrick scoffed andhis hand clutched her arm, pulling her behind him as he hurried back fromwhence she had come. And though she hated that she did so, she checked to seeif the knife was still visible, a small part of her afraid he would use it onher. “All blood is red, stupid girl. But I believe I left you somewhere to waitfor me so I would not be plagued by such ridiculous questions.”

Mairi struggled tokeep up with his long strides as he nearly ran from the body of the man, nowcompletely still in death.

She flinched at hisire, but her fear was rapidly being replaced by righteous anger of her own. Howdarehe call her stupid? So manytimes she had told him that their customs were different—that she could not beexpected to know of his world when it differed so entirely from her own. Butstill he mocked and criticised, and she did not appreciate his surly ways. “Youleft me bound to a tree where any might have found me! What would you have doneshould you return and discovered my body? Would that at least have grievedyou?”

Garrick turnedabruptly, bringing her close as his hands grasped her upper arms. “You ask methat? I told you to remain for you protection, not because I had hoped that some vagabond would come and maimyou!”

Beneath the hiss ofanger Mairi could sense his sincerity, but that made her no more ready toforgive him. It might not have been his intention, but there was little excusefor his lack of forethought—not when it could have led to such disaster.

He released his firmgrip on her arms and tugged insistently instead at her wrist, pulling her towhere Callum patiently remained, looking rather forlorn that there were notgrassy bits for him to munch on as he waited. Garrick did not allow for Mairito give her consent before grasping her waist, but for some unexplained reasonshe knew that if she should allow him to put her upon the horse and ride away,nothing good could come of it. He was too angry, too volatile and full of bloodlust to be fully aware of his actions, and that frightened her more than shecared to admit.

She lurched awayharshly and ran back toward the bustle of people that had previously sointimidated her.

Garrick was not oneto make a spectacle, and surely if she could make it to where there weresufficient people, he would be forcedto cool his temper before they made for their next destination—wherever thatmay be. He had said they would discuss it, and she tried to remember thatindicated, no matter how small, that he would look for her input. Despite herearlier thoughts he was not always a brute, and she would have to cling to thatremembrance if she was to keep her heart intact.

She ran.

The bond rippled withboth his fury and the reminder that she was running away from her mate. Herheart ached but she tried valiantly to smother the longing to return—to soothehis bad humour in whatever manner she could.

But the part of herthat did not know him kept her going, even as she heard the creak and clang ofhis armour as he pursued her.

The same lusciousscents met her first before the murmurs of the crowd overwhelmed her, and sheslowed only the better to blend into the throng. But still she went on,determined that he would have to replace her in the middle of the market beforeshe would approve of him taking her anywhere. She would not abandon him—no,would never do that—but it did not feel safe to be alone with him at this time.

They were so loud.

Hers were a peacefuland quiet people, and though during festivals there could be many dancing andlaughing under the stars and overhang of heavy boughs, it was never thisboisterous. There was a soothing melody to her kin’s timbre, yet these peoplehaggled and argued with a perfunctory nature that was wholly foreign.

“You there, m’lady!Can I interest ye in any woollen garb? Finest in all Monavyn!”

So intent was she inlistening for any sound of Garrick’s approach that she had not realised she wasstaring at a man in a stall. He had quite a few teeth missing but he smiledamiably as he waved her closer.

“Don’t you belistenin’ to a word he says, lass; McFarland’s a swindler if I ever I saw one.”

She started, notexpecting anyone to touch her except perhaps her mate as he angrily pulled herfrom the market. But as she turned to demand she be released she was met withthe warm smile of Harold and it soon matched her own. “Good morrow, friend! Iam ever so happy to see you!”

His grin widened andhe ushered her back to his own stall, his pipe waiting on a wooden board whichhe promptly picked up and settled in his mouth. “Glad to be hearin’ a littlelady like you appreciates me company. If I’d known you would be interested inmarket day I woulda offered ye a ride yesterday.”

“Thank you, but I didnot know I was to come here. My mate had business to see to and I wasmerely...” Her eyes strayed to flicker about the passersby, looking for Garrick.With his long limbs it seemed impossible that she could have been so far aheadof him, so he must have chosen to allow her to disappear—or else he was even nowgalloping away on Callum and leaving her behind.

Her heart sank at thenotion.

“Yer mate, eh? Thatanything like a husband? I’d hate for a pretty lass like you to be used withoutbeing wedded proper.”

Mairi blushed, notentirely sure how to answer. If Garrick was to be believed they had not beentruly wedded, but Harold seemeddisgruntled at the idea and for some reason she wished to please him. “It is.From where I hail he would be called a mate.”

Harold’s eyesnarrowed as he eyed her up and down. It was an action she was used to, but thislacked the slight shiver of revulsion that it used to inspire as he appearedmore interested in her garb. “Aye, you’re not from around these parts. But itdoes me good to hear yer not livin’ in sin.”

She shook her headfirmly, although she was not certain what error she would have been committing.

“So where is thismate a’yours? If you were my wife or even one of me daughters, I wouldn’t be soquick to let ye wander off.”

Mairi hung her head,knowing that Garrick had no intention of allowing her to wander, and it had been her decision to flee. Perhaps she had donesomething dreadful, offended some custom by being in public unattended and shewas shaming him.

Her stomach clencheduncomfortably at the thought.

“He was angry withme. I thought it best to leave him for a bit.” She could not meet his eye,doubting her decision now. Garrick had never actually hurt her beyond theaccidental wound that led to their sealing, and she had most likely deeplyinsulted him by running as she did.

She searched for himthrough the bond, and gasped as she realised he had been lurking in the shadowsbehind Harold.

His arms were crossedover his chest as he emerged, his armour dark enough to allow him to fade awayalmost completely. “It seems at every turn I replace you cavorting with anotherman.”

Harold turned, hiseyes widening as he observed Garrick’s height as it dwarfed his own slightlyshrunken frame. “Got yourself a knight, did ye? Well, at least I can rest easyknowing you’ve picked a husband that’s capable of bein’ protective.” But therewas a firmness to his jaw that easily showed that he was assessing therelationship between the two and Mairi remembered the stable boy’s concern. Andthe guilt pressed all the harder against her that she too had doubted Garrick’sintentions. They looked at his features and thought him boorish and mean—and hewas quite capable of being so—but Mairihad seen him softer and should at the very least have tried to think better ofhim.

She stepped closer toGarrick and reached out her hand.

Should her mate havebeen a dryon, he would have placed his forefinger about hers and possibly, ifhe was feeling particularly overt in his affections, pressed a kiss upon theirconjoined appendages.

But Garrick was not ofher kin, and instead he tilted his head away with a sniff, and she was gladthat the visor no longer covered his eyes so she could judge his mood moreeasily.

Her hand fell awayand she felt terribly lonesome.

“Garrick, this isHarold,” and her eyes implored him to be civil. There no resemblance betweenthis man and her father, but she found that there was a kindness in him andperhaps a crinkling of his eyes when he smiled at her that struck her asremarkably similar.

And she felt a twingeof loss that she would never introduce her bond-mate to her actual father, andthis might be the closest encounter she should ever experience.

“I must thank youagain for collecting my wife. Sheseems to have quite a knack for disappearing when it pleases her.”

Harold chuckled, but Mairithought it sounded a little forced. “Me own wife does not have that trouble.Every fortnight she shoos me off to the market to sell me dyes and thread. Nowthat these bones are old I’ve started spending the night in the pub for a rest.And though she’d tell ye it was a terrible expense, I rather think she likes tobe free of me for a night too.”

Garrick’s eyesflashed towards Mairi and she saw the barely concealed irritation stillsimmering within. “Indeed.”

She flinched.

It did not escapeHarold’s notice and his mouth turned to a grim line, not at all the cheeky grinof which she had become accustomed.

“You sell thread? Iam afraid I tore my gown and am in need of something to mend it.”

He stared at her amoment longer his eyes flickering to Garrick before nodding. “Aye, I’ve gotsomething that’ll fix it up nicely, but to match the purple of that gown it’llcost a wee bit extra.” He glanced at Garrick, his expression almostchallenging. “That shouldn’t be too much trouble for ye, right m’laird? Notwhen this fine lady should be treated with such care.”

Mairi hung her head, humiliationburning low within her. She was not being a good mate. Garrick might have beenfailing in the same venture, but she had the benefit of knowing perfectly wellwhat made for a good mate—andallowing others to constantly suggest that she was being mistreated was not atall fair to him.

“Nay. So name yourprice as we must depart.” His tone was curt and it was obvious he had notmissed the none too subtle insinuation from Harold. But just when Mairi wishedthe earth would simply open where she stood and swallow her into its darkestdepths, she heard him whisper, “Callum is waiting for us.”

And suddenly she knewshe had done rightly.

For his voice wassofter, and some small part of their bond told her it was not merely because hespoke of his friend—it was for her.

His use of the word us made her heart swell for joy.

Hearing him be curtand short with another yet lower his voice and speak almost intimately to herof something he considered private sent her reeling.

And this time whenshe patted Harold’s arm and thanked him profusely for the thread, she knew thatall would be well.