The princess worked her way down the beam towards me.

"Why are you doing that?" I tried again.

"There are no bones." He held up the ear. "It is easy to cut."

"Why just one ear? Why not both?" The hysterical note was back in my voice.

Hearing it, Batu straightened from his task. "One ear per one man killed. Thus, our commander will know how many died and also that his orders were carried out. Each warrior must return with ten ears."

This was … beyond definition. "I really don't want to go with you."

He sheathed his sword and approached.

I backed against the wall.

With no ceremony, Batu snatched my arm and dragged me off the table and into his hard, muscular body, my back to his chest. The sense of being rendered completely vulnerable by his pure size and power left me shaking and scared once more. He wrapped his arms around me and pried one hand free.

"I can start with this one." He took my left pinky in his large hand and began squeezing.

"No!" I gasped and tried to pull free. It wasn't possible, not with his strength. If anything, his grip around me tightened.

"You have a low tolerance for pain." He sounded satisfied. "Let us both remember this." He released my finger without releasing me. "Let us both remember, Moonbeam, you are also protecting my enemy, and I am allowing it." These words were quieter, spoken against my ear.

My eyes found the princess again. She was waiting for me to help her down from the lowest beam.

"Lamb and wolf. Do not forget," he added.

Overwhelmed, the sense of detachment crept over me again, a combination of fatigue, time travel and adrenaline brought on by terror. I felt myself go limp in his arms. The world began to slide away, and this time, I didn't care if it did.

"See me. Hear me. Touch me. Smell me," he repeated in a low voice.

I ignored him and willed the spell to claim me. Maybe this time, when I woke up, I'd be elsewhere once more.

He jostled me to face him. One arm locked me against him while he rested his palm over my mouth. I blinked, not at all accustomed to being treated like a sack of potatoes or feeling like a delicate piece of china in the hands of a brute.

"See me," his order was low. He held my gaze with his dark eyes, his look penetrating. His heart-shaped face was out of place for a man who slaughtered everyone who came within a foot of him. His head was shaded from the growth of new hair, his rounder face and high cheekbones giving him a purely exotic look I found intriguing. "Hear me. Smell me."




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