Gently, so as not to wake her, Kane pulled back the covers and allowed the blade to drop to her belly. She stirred under its coldness. Scraping his blade over her naked body triggered bizarre, electrifying urges within him. Lyra moaned in her sleep and fidgeted against the cuffs that bound her so decadently. Her nipples hardened as the icy weapon flitted over them, and he brought the point to the letter branding her chest. Lyra moaned again but did not wake. In an instant, he drew the blade across her throat without making contact. The electric pulses thudded through his belly and his eyes closed, enabling his senses to heighten to the sensation. No, he did not trust the beast within, not where Lyra was concerned.
Kane shuddered and dropped the machete to the floor. The metal gave out a clang, and Lyra’s weary eyes opened to the dimness of the room.
‘Kane?’ she muttered. The monster looked down at her. She looked so vulnerable, chained there. Lyra sighed heavily as a bizarre relief engulfed her. She was safe now. Kane would hold her and keep her safe from the world. Her eyes flickered and closed, oblivious to the danger that she was in. The bed sank as he forced his massive body up against hers, enraptured with the pulses belting through him. He pulled her back into his chest, and in her naivety, she buried herself deeper against him. The pulses turned to a burning need and, without warning, he pressed his rigidity into her.
Lyra cried out as he drove himself hard into her, unable to resist as her hands were still chained. Kane caught her hips and pushed her face down into the pillow without leaving her body. He fed the pulses with phenomenally hard thrusts, but it was not enough to sate his desire. Kane dug his right hand into her hair and pulled it hard so that she had to back up against him, driving him further inside. With his free hand, he reached down to the brand on her chest and dug his nails in. Lyra screamed; her scream was enough, and Kane instantly imploded, all of his needs satisfied, for a time.
His abrupt release was even more painful than his cruel handling of her. Lyra curled her knees up to her chest for comfort; he had overpowered her in the cruellest way, yet she still ached for his touch. As the powerful vibes escaped from his body, Kane stared at his victim; she was his woman, but without a doubt, she was also his ultimate victim. She woke demons within him that had been dormant; now he could not help acting on the plethora of instincts that consumed him. The monster looked over his woman with a strange, sweet sorrow and eventually pulled her into his arms as he perched on the edge of the bed. There was only one way that he could continue keeping her and ensure her safety, but it was a bridge he was afraid to cross. Lyra’s head dropped into his lap, and he allowed her to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.
Lyra woke to the sounds of talking from the front room. Harlon had arrived early and was talking at length with Kane; she could not hear what he was saying, just the muffled sound of his voice. To her surprise, Kane had unbound her and she was free to freshen up and dress without interruption. Escape was not an option, not with Kane standing in the next room, and certainly not following his obvious and unpredictable changes of mood. Lyra dressed in her primary item of clothing: black leggings and a matching shirt. The bathroom mirror had been broken, but she was still able to glance at herself; her hair was greasy and skin oily. She needed a bath. She glanced at Kane’s tub; it was filled with stale water of an ominous hue. She wondered if Kane would allow her to bathe in her own cabin.
Harlon stopped speaking the second that Lyra entered the room. The old man was in the kitchen area, unloading some containers of his stew and boiling the kettle in an eerily normal manner. Kane stood motionless in the front room, staring out of the window. Lyra noticed his constant vigilance and dislike of outsiders; perhaps the man just wanted peace. As if hearing her thoughts, Harlon interjected,
‘I already told you, missy, he’s not a man. He’s not like other men.’
‘How?’ Lyra managed to stammer out.
‘Guess Old Harlon is so used to the silence he hears things others don’t,’ he mumbled whilst handing her a mug of tea. ‘I hear the boy there. He don’t have to say anything,’ Harlon continued, waving his hand in Kane’s direction.
Lyra slumped on the sofa and sipped at her tea as the old man continued.
‘I guess I could tell him you want a bath, but he probably knows that now, don’t he?’ Lyra gulped with annoyance; her privacy was invaded in the most personal way.
‘So, can you hear everything I’m thinking?’ she demanded irately. Harlon chuckled.
‘No, missy, that I can’t do. I just pick up on those things you want picked up on.’ He took a sip from his flask. ‘But I don’t hear ya, it’s just a feeling I get.’ He nodded to Kane. ‘Truth be told, I think the boy made me that way.’ Kane did not move.
‘The boy says he will take you for a bath and you can get whatever you need.’ Harlon smiled before she could open her mouth. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it matters if he sees you in the bath or not now, does it?’ Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and she decided against asking any further silly questions. ‘Mind you, he wants something in return!’ Lyra squinted; what more could the creature take from her?
‘He wants to watch you draw!’ Her art; she had forgotten about her art and her career. She had moved to the wilderness to be alone with her art and scan her work for exhibition and sale.
‘My work?’ Lyra muttered, deep in thought.
‘That’s what he wants. He thinks you spoke to him through some painting of yours.’ Harlon took another swig. ‘Yep, that he does,’ he added thoughtfully.
Lyra looked up at Kane, but he remained perfectly still.
‘I can do that, but I need a bath!’ she insisted.
‘You’ll get your bath, but first you eat. Got to keep your strength up.’ The old man shuffled back to the kitchen and brought her some stew. Lyra looked up at Kane and the old man followed her gaze. ‘Don’t worry ’bout him, missy. He’s already eaten.’ The smell of food had made Lyra hungry and she ate quickly.
‘What is in this?’ she asked whilst scooping more into her mouth.
‘Home-grown vegetables and meat,’ Harlon answered quickly, adding, ‘Best of home-grown vegetables!’
‘What meat? Unusual taste.’ Lyra continued without a second thought.
Harlon looked to Kane, and Kane slowly turned to face his companions, tilting his head at the old man. Some secret seemed to pass between the two.
‘Best of cattle,’ Harlon snapped abruptly. ‘Best of cattle. Now you go finishing it, so none don’t go to waste.’ Lyra’s chewing slowed as a dark thought crept into her head. She had not seen any cattle around the lake at all, not one. She went to drop her spoon, but Kane snapped his head in her direction as a warning. Lyra clasped the spoon tighter and continued eating, chewing each mouthful exceedingly slowly and defiantly staring at Kane as she did. She knew that she had no choice and hoped desperately that her assumptions were wrong.
Kane waited patiently for Lyra to finish her meal and refused to move until she had cleared the container. Harlon gently took the container from her trembling hands. If she was correct in her assumptions, then she had reached a new low, even surpassing her intimacy with a killer.
‘Good girl!’ the old man cackled. ‘Better to do what he wants, love,’ he added, resting a wizened old hand on her shoulder. Lyra had always done what she had wanted; left home, put herself through college, succeeded as an artist and, above all, avoided the expectation to involve herself in any form of a relationship. She mentally nudged herself and the words crossed her mind again; do whatever it takes to survive. Kane tilted his head as if reading her thoughts, and Lyra consciously wiped them from her mind.
‘Harlon’s gonna go now, missy. Now, do you need anything from town?’ he asked. Without thinking, Lyra blurted out,
‘Does everyone know what you do for him?’ Harlon exchanged glances with Kane once again.
‘People knows not to come up here. That’s what they know!’ Harlon exclaimed hurriedly. ‘Now, do you want anything from town?’
‘Beef!’ Lyra snapped, ashamed at herself for what she had consumed. Kane took two thumping steps towards her.
‘Now, boy, you don’t need to be like that. She just upset, is all,’ whined the old man.
‘Beef and a bath!’ Lyra repeated, hoping to gain some insight as to how far she could assert herself.
Kane turned to the old man and signalled with one swoop of his hand for him to leave. Harlon rushed out without saying anything further.
‘Beef and a bath!’ the woman cried out again. Kane tilted his head. If she wanted a bath so badly, he would give her one. He bent down and grasped both of her hands in one of his and, with the other, threw her body over his shoulder. Between a fury of passionate emotions, frustration at her imprisonment and shame over what she had eaten, Lyra sank into a fit of angry emotions. She kicked and flailed against the creature as he marched out of the cabin and into the forest.
Kane tightened his arm around her legs to slow the stream of kicks, but she continued to lash out with her arms. Each hit against his back bounced off as if it were nothing to him. He marched headlong towards the lake, furious at her newfound intransigence. Lyra hoped that he would take her to her cabin, but Kane had no intention of giving in to her tantrum. He strode to the shoreline and continued walking into the water. Realising what was about to happen, Lyra struggled harder.
‘Kane, put me down!’ she yelled whilst pummelling his back. He did not respond. ‘You’re nothing but a monster!’
Her words hurt; they stung Kane’s ears and pierced his belly. She would suffer for the pain she had caused him. He continued wading into the water. Lyra’s head skimmed the surface; Kane had drowned as a child and he could drown her in an instant. She tried to lift her head up and caught a mouthful of water as she did. ‘Kane, let me go!’ she continued, but to no avail. As Kane’s jaw hit the water, Lyra straightened her back in a bid to get some air into her lungs. Kane released his grip until she skimmed down his body and they were face to face in the water. The monster then secured his mighty arms about her waist and took her further so that the lakebed dropped away beneath them. Holding her fast, he dropped down, descending into the depths of the lake.
Lyra tried to struggle against him, but there was no use. He held her for a short time, time enough for her to fear for her life, and then rocketed upwards until they were both swimming on the surface of the lake.
‘See, monster,’ Lyra chided whilst fearfully spitting out water. ‘Nothing but a monster.’ He grasped her waist once again and dragged her to the lakebed, flailing. This time, he held her slightly longer before ascending to the surface. Lyra spluttered and coughed as she tried desperately to tread in her captor’s waters.
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