Chapter 9

When I wake, sunlight streams through the window. Dust motes dance in the air, and I blink. There's no road noise, no laughing or talking or yelling outside my apartment— only birdsong and the humming of insects.

I sit up abruptly, the covers falling from my chest.

I'm not home.

The previous day's events come crashing over me, and I pull my knees to myself, trying to slow the panicked beating of my heart.

Jesus.

I almost had sex with the huge horned man. I glance at where I tossed the shirt he left me last night. I couldn't wear it; it smelled like him. I was too aroused, and even though a faint blush heats my cheeks as I remember last night, I half-wish I'd woken next to him, sated and sleepy.

I must be out of my mind. I run a hand through my still-wet snarl of hair (no hair dryer here in wannabe-medieval-weird-world) and try to logically sort through my just as tangled emotions.

Dabin is sexy as hell.

I get a weird, glowy mark when we touch.

I might gain special powers if I have sex with him.

According to him, this realm is where I'm from.

I snort at that thought, collapsing back on the bed. I'm a scientist. None of this makes any damn sense. Which in a way, also makes sense, because the rules of Earth and physics and science we have there no longer apply. It's magic. Though science, by the standards of medieval Earth would be considered magic. It makes my head hurt… or maybe that's last night's wine.

I need to collect more evidence.

I'm laying on the bed, naked as a jaybird, when a knock sounds and then the door immediately swings open. Dabin appears, carrying what appears to be a tray of steaming food. A greeting dies on his lips, his warm smile fading, turning hot.

I squeak and pull the covers up to my chin, hiding my naked body.

It's too late, though. His eyes have that heavy-lidded ‘I wanna fuck' look, and heaven help me, it does things to me.

Oh yeah, he saw me naked. And he liked it.

I shouldn't like that he liked it. There is absolutely nothing rational about the way my body reacts to him. The way I react to him.

He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before opening them and setting the tray on a heavy wood dresser. "I brought you breakfast. The lemon cake I started last night, some porridge with dried nuts and fruit. It's not much…" he trails off, a hungry look on his face.

"Do you have coffee?" It comes out a squeak.

"No?" he says, and it's clear he's never heard of it. "There is tea, though."

Well, damn. Another strike against staying here. The thought catches me off-guard. Staying here? When did I decide to consider that?

He bustles around the room, pulling out a pair of pants and another shirt. They're not as big as the clothes he gave me last night. He lays them on the bed, and I pat my tangle of hair, knowing I must look a complete mess.

Not that Dabin cares. He sneaks glances at me as he moves around, his attention heavy in my mind.

"Thank you for breakfast. I can eat with you, though, I don't have to eat in here." I have to speak. There's so much tension between us that I'm afraid what will happen if I don't break it.

Afraid and curious.

"I already ate but thank you." He smiles again, and warmth spreads through my body. "I wanted you to sleep as long as you needed, but we must be going if we are to get to the market before the day passes us by."

"Oh, oh… okay." It kind of sounds fun. I haven't been to anything but the lackluster farmer's market in my small college town in years.

He studies me, his eyes drifting over my face, then lower, to the lump under the cover where my breasts are. The breasts he touched and kissed and?—

No. I cannot think about that. I squeeze my thighs together.

His nostrils flare, and I gulp. How good is his sense of smell? He's clearly blessed with all kinds of supernatural powers, from the horns to the speed to the way he kisses…

Argh.

"If you use a belt, the clothes should fit well enough, and we'll find you some new things today. I have some business in town, as well." For a moment, his expression tightens, and a frisson of worry jolts through me. Then it clears. "I sent word early this morning, so you can meet some others." Good grief, he's so handsome, with the slight smile and his gold-brown eyes.

"Others? Other Starbound women?" The delineation is strange to say, like I'm admitting maybe I'm not a human. Like maybe there's something to what he told me last night, something to me being in this world at all.

"No." he shakes his head. "Starbound men, like me. You are as rare as snow in summer." He looks at me with such desperation, such hope and longing, that my head spins.

"Ah. That's pretty rare, then. At least it is where I'm from, maybe that's normal here." I laugh awkwardly, my hand around my throat. "Sounds lonely," I add, trying to fill up the silence. "There are women here, though, right? It's not just a brodeo twenty-four seven?"

He tilts his head at me, narrowing his eyes. "Brodeo?"

"You know, all guys all the time," I stammer out, tugging the covers further up. The sheet pops out of the bottom of the bed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, love is love." Oh god, why can't I shut up?

"There are women, and many take partners of any kind. But a mate is rare, unheard of now, a gift from the stars themselves." He steps forward, his gaze raking over my covered body, and I half-wonder if he's going to kiss me again. The other half wants it to happen, wants to make it happen.

I realize I'm staring, and he nods at me once before closing the door again.

I plop back down on the bed and sigh.

My ass hurts. I'm clinging to Dabin's back, riding the horse that came when he freakin' whistled, like some kind of fairytale. We've been riding for what feels like hours, judging from the position of the sun and how sore I already am.

It's not like I haven't ever ridden a horse, if you count one of those ponies at the state fair when I was ten. Or eight.

"Not much longer, my Danielle," he murmurs, just loud enough that I can hear him. He keeps calling me that. Not plain Danielle, but my Danielle. Normally, it would bug the shit out of me, how possessive he is… but it doesn't. Maybe my modern sensibilities got left behind on Earth, too.

My too large, borrowed shirt flutters whips around me, my hasty braid completely unraveled. The air streaming by my face is warm, sunshine streaming from behind clouds. There are no paved roads as far as I can tell, the horse clomps over a packed dirt path. I burrow my face against Dabin's back, trying to block the wind from my face. The steady thud of his heart is comforting. He's solidly muscled, and holding onto him is comforting, too. Well, except for the part that my boobs smash into him with every step of the horse.

That's a little much.

"There," he says, and I look up, squinting against the sunlight. "Kirdiff."

Smoke rises from a city nestled in a valley just below us, and I catch a whiff of it in the air. That, and Dabin's own yummy smell. We're close enough that a hubbub of conversation is apparent, the distant cry of vendors hawking their wares. Dabin slows the horse to a walk, and I breathe a sigh of relief, drinking in the sight.

I can't stop staring.

"What did you say it was called?"

"Kirdiff. It's a merchant town, a stopping point for travelers all over."

Fascinating. Kirdiff. It sounds almost like that city in Scotland, and I wonder if there are other similarities between our worlds. "Are we on an island, by any chance?"

He casts me an amused look over his shoulder. "Have you seen the ocean nearby?"

I snort. "Oh, now you develop a sense of humor?"

"It has always been there." He shrugs, and his muscles do interesting things under my hands. "Can you blame me for being preoccupied?"

He takes a hand off the reins, placing it over where mine rests on his stomach. My heart does a little flutter. Oh sheesh. I need to put a stop to this. I can't go around thinking about having sex with this man. I can't lead him on, it's not fair. He clearly wants way more than sex, way more than I'm willing to give.

I have to get home, for crying out loud.

I shift uncomfortably. More than uncomfortably, considering how sore my butt is.

"Dabin, I?—"

"You don't have to say anything, my Danielle. I know you want to get home. Let me enjoy the day with you. That is all I ask. Tomorrow I will take you to the caves, so you can try to transport home."

"Fair enough," I manage. I blow out a breath, and it sends a few strands of his hair flying from the nape of his neck. Goosebumps appear across the expanse of skin. Something like satisfaction curls deep inside me to see proof of how much I affect him.

"Sorry," I say, scooching back. I'm so mixed up inside. I want him. I don't want him. I want to get home. I want to stay here and learn about this starlight power thing. I want to figure out how the gates work. I want to figure out how much of what he tells me is true.

I want to understand why I can't stop thinking about his fingers on my skin, his mouth on mine, the taste of his tongue.

One thing at a time, Danielle.

My hands ache from gripping his shirt, and I flex my fingers, trying to relax them as we approach the bustling city. Now that we're closer, the road is filled with travelers, some on horseback, like we are, others still walking or in wagons. The people of Kirdiff seem friendly enough, smiling in greeting and pausing to stop and chat on the road.

I've seen enough Game of Thrones that I'm half expecting a knight to burst through the gate or a dragon to come light it all up. And by enough, I mean I caught half of one episode during a free promo period before falling asleep on top of my research notes.

"There aren't dragons here, are there?" I crane my neck, inspecting the skies.

Dabin laughs, leaning back and looking at me as the horse plods onward. My breath catches. Why is it he looks even more delicious when he's laughing? Truly, it's unfair.

"Dragons? They are children's tales, nothing more." He takes one look at my nervous expression and his smile slides off. "Do they have dragons in your world?"

"Only CGI."

He frowns, turning back in the saddle. "I have never heard of this seejee-eye dragon. Are they fierce?"

I bite back a laugh, smiling at a pair of toddlers towing a harried looking woman along. "I've never seen one close enough to be able to say."

It's not exactly a lie, but I feel a little guilty for joking at his expense. Which is silly, but there it is. We have some differences in our viewpoints, obviously, considering I come from a completely different dimension, but Dabin is intelligent and kind. He hasn't once acted like a misogynist asshole or been patronizing, which is wildly different than the men I studied alongside. Heck, he knows a lot more about whatever power is lurking inside me. It's my body, and I was completely ignorant of it.

The realization strikes like lightning. I believe him. At some point, I started trusting him, that there's something to that odd, glowing constellation on my skin. I swallow and push that knowledge away.

A few people stand outside the main gate, an ornate iron fixture reminiscent of a portcullis. It's too finely wrought, all ornate filigree. Iron vines snake up the gate, metal flowers tipped in sparkling paint. A heavy stonework arch supports what I can see of it, and I suppose it must work well enough, despite looking completely for show.

"Dabin," one of the people standing at the gate shouts. "It has been too long! Who rides with you?"

Dabin nudges the horse into a trot, and I hang on for dear life as he raises a hand in greeting. "Madena, Alik, Elward, this is Danielle."

I peer around him, and the three guards stare back at me, fascination in their eyes.

"It's true then?" The woman asks. Her dark skin shimmers in the sun, as she stares at Dabin, then me. "The Starbound women return?"

Dabin shakes his head. "Only one has returned. Perhaps more will follow."

I make myself smile brightly, uneasy at the avid attention. Passersby stop and stare too, exchanging looks and whispers behind cupped hands.

"What are her powers?" One of the men steps forward, a grim expression on his face as he inspects me.

Dabin clears his throat, and embarrassment crashes over me. Oh god, these people think we've slept together.

"Are we saved, then? Will the Butcher King finally be broken?" The woman's braids fall over one shoulder, and her expression has also turned serious. But there's hope in her voice, so blatant that I think maybe I've misheard her question.

"You know better than to count on someone else fixing this, Madena." His voice is laced with the tone of command, and the guards stand straighter.

"Pardon me, what Butcher King are we talking about exactly?"

Dabin makes a low noise in his throat, and the three guards exchange looks. "Danielle may not be staying long."

The group's attention swivels back to me, their gazes fierce. I suck in a breath and tilt my chin up.

"I don't know enough to make a decision." I'm proud that my voice doesn't tremble. "In fact, this is the first I've heard about a Butcher King."

I don't know anything about the guy, but I'm drawing a lot of conclusions from his name.

Doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

"May we enter the city?" Dabin asks, and there's steel in his voice I haven't heard before.

"Enter," the woman says. "Castor told us to expect you. Kaus is inside too."

"Be well," Dabin says, and nudges the horse back into a trot.

The guards go back to their positions, but even as I watch, they sneak glances at me between letting people through the gates.

"Who's the fucking Butcher King?" It comes out a ferocious whisper, and Dabin's body tightens under my hands.

"I'll tell you more once we get the horse settled."

"I want to hear it now."

"Now is not the time, Danielle. It is a long story, and we must make haste to find what we need to make you comfortable."

He says it like I won't be leaving as soon as I can, like he expects me to stay forever, as though me giving in and accepting this place, Butcher King and all, is a done deal.

I don't have a good feeling about it.