Page 1 of Claiming Their Slave
Chapter One
For most of her life, Ava had wanted to run away.
Every spring, she stood on her tiptoes and peered across the field of daisies that separated the village from the forest, gazing with longing at the thick green vegetation that stretched to the mountains. Sometimes she would gather her meager belongings in a sack and place it beneath her bed, preparing to sneak off in the middle of the night. However, she had yet to actually follow through with her plans.
The stories she’d grown up hearing about monsters and bloodthirsty creatures that lurked in the woods always frightened her into staying. Huge bears with an appetite for human flesh. Two-headed wolves that could outrun the fastest man. Massive fierce cats that could leap upon you from the trees. Giant spiders and snakes whose venomous bites could leave one paralyzed and unable to move while being slowly eaten.
Only skilled hunters had permission to venture into the forest. The Elders banned everyone else from leaving the village, and those caught walking beyond the perimeter of the community were usually put in the stocks or jailed for several days.
The rules were intended to keep the inhabitants of the village safe, but having been born a slave and subject to her master’s whims, Ava had never quite felt safe.
As scary as the forest was, it was her only chance at freedom.
One day she would finally run away. She believed this in her heart. One day she would be brave enough to run off into the dark woods and never look back.
Now that she was a young woman, she had to escape the village sooner, rather than later. At any time, her master could decide to breed her with another slave, and any children born of the union would also endure a life of slavery.
She couldn’t allow that to happen.
The afternoon sun blazed down, but after the harsh winter the village had suffered through, Ava welcomed the heat. She heaved a bucket of water to her hip and started the journey from the well to her master’s abode. Though her arms ached from the strain, she took the scenic route back, as she wanted to see the meadow of daisies again. Glimpsing her eventual path to freedom never failed to lift her spirits and fortify her bravery.
One night, in the very near future, she would conquer the unknown. She would set off through that very field and run until she was breathless, run until she was so far away the hunters wouldn’t be able to track her down and drag her back.
A curse from long ago had caused the forest to swallow up the roads and cut off all villages from one another, but she supposed if she traveled far enough, she could reach another community, where she could start her life anew. She could pretend she’d simply gotten lost in the woods and no one would realize she was a slave.
Freedom. She would be free.
Her throat burned with emotion, and she swallowed hard and approached the daisies. Still holding the bucket of water on one hip, she reached her free hand out and touched the tops of the flowers, allowing the soft petals to brush against her fingertips as she passed the field. A surge of courage swept through her, and perhaps it was only her imagination, but she suddenly felt physically stronger, as well as less frightened of the unknown that awaited her in the forest.
“Maybe tonight,” she whispered, her gaze on the distant, mist-covered mountains.
She returned to her master’s home and brought the bucket into the kitchen. She set about preparing the midday meal, vaguely wondering why her master wasn’t seated at the table already. He typically sat in the kitchen working on his wood carvings before the midday meal each day. He was a man of habit.
Run away now, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered.
Her stomach flipped. Did she dare? She peered out the window. No. She couldn’t. It was too nice a day, and the streets had been more crowded than usual. She would be spotted leaving and quickly chased down by a hunter, who would gladly return her to her master in hopes of a reward.
Then she would be punished.
Her master had never hit her, which was surprising, as most slaves weren’t treated well, but he did once place her in the stocks in the middle of the village. For two days, she’d been out in the open, where unkind villagers had tossed rotten vegetables at her and cruelly mocked her. Tears burned in her eyes at the memory. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed in frustration.
A few generations ago, there hadn’t been any slaves in her village. But then the Elders decreed criminals convicted of serious crimes would not only forfeit their own lives, but their family’s freedom as well.
Years ago, her father had killed a man during an argument, when her mother was pregnant with her. On the same day her father was hanged, her heavily pregnant mother was sold to her current master, with the money going to the victim’s family. Now, any children Ava had would be slaves, and their children as well. And so on down the line. All because of a father she’d never met. She released another sigh of frustration and set about concentrating on her tasks, needing the distraction of her chores to keep herself from wallowing in misery over a past she couldn’t change.
After placing lunch on the table, she left the kitchen to go in search of her master. Perhaps he’d gone to lie down. She ventured upstairs and down the hallway, peering through doorways. A sense of foreboding made her legs move slower and her hands shake, but she shrugged the odd feeling off and continued on. Yet the breeze that entered the open windows left her colder and colder as it blew her hair haphazardly about her shoulders. Something was wrong.
“Ava!” her master called, just as she reached the end of the hall, where her small bedroom—which had once been used as a storage closet—was located. “Ava! Get in here!”
Her stomach flipped when she came to stand in the doorway. The old man was crouched on the floor next to her bed, rooting through her runaway bag. She’d filled it with fresh food and other supplies two days ago, hoping she would finally be brave enough to have need for it soon.
Her mouth went dry and she started backing up.
Goddess, what would he do to her?
“Two of Monrock’s slaves ran away in the middle of night.” Spittle flew from his mouth. He glared up at her, his expression cold, his lips twisted in disgust. “He said I should be vigilant, in case my slave was planning the same, so I decided to reassure myself that you weren’t preparing to leave too. Imagine my surprise when I found this under your bed!” The last few words came out as a deafening roar that made Ava flinch.
He turned the bag upside down and shook out the contents. Fruit, cured meat, cheese, flatbread, a small kitchen knife, and other supplies crashed to the floor. Two apples rolled past her feet.
