Page 6 of Hunting for her Heart
I want to run. I want to find the door back to my world so I don’t have to participate in this. But remembering what and who I’m already running from has me silently following Larissa out of the tent.
Maybe if I can hide well enough, none of the men will find me, and I’ll get to go free? When we step out of the tent, those two men, my brothers, are standing there, along with a third man, and they all narrow their eyes on me.
I guess they are here to make sure I don’t run. I take a few quick steps to catch up to Larissa and whisper, “Larissa?”
“Hmm?” she asks, her eyes turning to me in question.
“Why do my brothers care so much about me participating?”
She glances over our shoulders at my three brothers walking behind us, then lowers her voice more. “Your family was given a lot of money for you to enter the hunt. They’re here to make sure you go through with it.”
So the other Willow’s family basically sold her to this Mating Hunt? No wonder she was so upset. “Why would she do it?” I ask, and Larissa frowns at me. “The other Willow. Why would she sign up for this if she didn’t want to do it?”
She clearly still does not believe I’m a different person, but chooses to answer anyway. “Willowsaid her parents basically forced her to do it. They told her they had no money and would be living on the streets if she didn't do this for their family. She came from an extremely poor area where the few prospects had no way to support her or her family.” She takes in my worried expression and places her hand on mine, giving it a squeeze before she adds, “You’re doing a good thing. Your family will never be homeless now.”
She gives me a strained smile and releases my hand, then moves ahead of me as we continue walking through the tents in a single-file line.
I understand why the other Willow signed up now. She felt as if she had no choice. If marrying Paul would have guaranteed Isabella a better life, I would have done it.
Up ahead, I see the lack of tents and a large clearing in the trees. What sounds like hundreds of rough male voices reaches my ears. A sense of panic rolls through me, and as soon as I pass the next tent, I’m unable to stop myself from running.
I dart to my right between two tents and hear my so-called brothers swear as their footsteps pound behind me. I wish I had shoes on right now. I should have thought to look when I was in the tent. Pain shoots through my body, but I try to ignore it as I make my way through the tents.
I turn left, then right, weaving through the tents as I try to lose them. When I make the next left turn, I see I’ve somehow ended up behind the large group of men in the clearing. I stop so suddenly that I fall to my knees, hissing out in pain as they connect with the forest floor.
My entire body aches as I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath.
The men at the back of the group hear me and turn around to see what’s going on. I glance up from where I’m still on the ground and see the looks of shock on their faces when they take me in. Some of their noses wrinkle in distaste, probably from my disheveled appearance, and it makes me hang my head in shame.
Unsure what to do, I stare at the ground as my fingers dig into the dirt beneath me. My instinct to run has vanished, and in its place is the need to become invisible. My body decides that by staying still, they’ll all turn around and forget I’m here.
“Move,” a rough voice grunts out, and I glance up to see a few of the men being pushed aside by someone coming up behind them. The tip of a spear points upward and moves through the crowd, toward me.
I see the tops of three men’s heads come into view, clearly taller than all the other men around them. The men at the front, still looking at me with disgust, are suddenly shoved aside as the three biggest men I’ve ever seen step in front of the others.
They stop moving as we stare at each other. They aren’t wearing shirts, just straps of leather across their chests that hold up primitive weapons and satchels on their backs and sides. They have some sort of elaborate loincloth or wrapping around their hips, covering their privates, but most of their thighs are bare as well.
Primitive leather sandals wrap around their calves, and as my eyes make their way to the men’s faces, something inside me lurches forward, causing my fingers to dig into the dirt even more.
The first man, the one with the spear, has long, brown hair, tied back at the top of his head and shaved on one side. A full beard covers his face, and his piercing hazel eyes are honed in on me. He’s the smallest of the three, but that doesn’t say much, as he still towers over every other man here.
The blonde man beside him looks like a Viking with braids covering his head, a full, short beard, and two giant swords strapped to his back. His blue eyes are looking at me with an emotion I don’t know how to read.
The third man is the biggest, with shoulder-length black hair, a full beard covering his face, and an ax strapped to his back. His hands clench into fists as I stare at him. Looking back at his face, his green eyes burrow into mine and he takes a step toward me.
“Willow!” I snap my head around to see mybrothersrunning up behind me. “Are you crazy? Come on,” one ofthem says as he grabs my upper arm and yanks me to my feet.
“Ow!” I cry out when he squeezes a bruise too hard.
“Let go of her!” the black-haired Viking behind me yells in anger, his deep voice rolling through me in a way I've never felt before. When I glance his way, he steps toward us, his eyes on my brother.
My brother shoves me behind him and puffs out his chest at the stranger. “You touch my sister, or me, and I’ll have you arrested.”
The man pauses, his eyes moving past my brother to look down at me as I rub my arm. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”
My eyebrows raise in shock. Did he just offer to kill mybrotherfor me?
Said brother looks at me over his shoulder with a look of trepidation. I don’t want his death on my hands, so I shake my head as I glance back at the Viking.
