out of the oven and into the frying pan

The Warlord was slow in his movements so not to startle her. His voice, soft, through still rich with authority. He treated her like she was a creature likely to startle easily. He treated her like he imagined his Wife would demand of him. And also, because of the fury left in his gut after watching that wretched excuse of a wolf manhandle her.

He patiently waited while she ate, doing so at the end of her rope. When she was done, he slowly rose. “We head back to my pack now. There, you will be introduced to my Son, who will begin to teach you the basics of hunting and fighting” and learn in the doing of it.

“Come easily, freedom would only mean starvation, or freezing to death, alone in these foreign woods” he didn’t know much of what he said was getting through, but he continued to do so. Keeping his voice gentle, authoritative, to see if she would begin to follow him.