Varg moved through the shadows of the lower canopy with the unconscious woman over his shoulder weighing nothing to his trained muscles.
He didn't head towards the main residential areas; instead, he slipped down, descending past the living quarters and into the tangled root system that anchored the Heartwood Tree on top of the mountain.
He knew these roots better than the guards did, as he spent weeks scouting for a place just like this, a damp, secluded hollow formed by the twisting of three massive roots, completely hidden from the patrol's guards above.
He ducked inside, the air instantly turning cool and heavy with the scent of wet earth and moss.
With a grunt of satisfaction, he dropped Elara onto the mossy floor of the cave.
She didn't stir. The 'Siren Mushroom' worked well, plunging her into a deep, drug-induced stupor.
Varg stood over her, his breathing heavy in the silence of the cave. He pulled a glow-stone from his pouch, casting a dim, eerie blue light over the small cave.
The light washed over Elara, highlighting the rise and fall of her chest.
Her thin nightgown had ridden up during the journey, exposing her smooth, pale thighs. The sight made Varg's mouth go dry.
He didn't want to take her on the ground like an animal.
He wanted to savor this. He wanted to see every inch of her, displayed for his pleasure.
He reached into his pack and pulled out a coil of rough hemp rope.
"Beautiful," he rasped, his eyes devouring her. "Too beautiful to just waste..."
He grabbed Elara's wrists, pulling them together. Her skin was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the rough fibers of the rope.
He wound the cord tight, securing her hands with a complex knot that would only tighten if she struggled.
"Up you go," he grunted.
He threw the free end of the rope over a thick, sturdy root that protruded from the ceiling of the cave like a natural beam.
With a sharp tug, he hoisted her up.
Elara's body was pulled upright, her arms stretched high above her head.
Varg tied off the rope to a rock formation on the wall, stepping back to admire his handiwork.
She was hanging there, suspended in the center of the cave, her toes barely brushing the mossy floor.
The position accentuated everything. Her body was stretched taut, forcing her chest out, the thin fabric of her nightgown clinging desperately to her curves.
The gown, practically translucent in the glow-stone's light, left little to the imagination.
The deep neckline dipped low, revealing the swell of her heavy breasts, while the hem ended high on her thighs, leaving her long, shapely legs completely bare and vulnerable to the damp air.
She looked like a lamb to be sacrificed. A beautiful, helpless offering.
Varg walked slowly around her, his boots squelching softly in the mud.
He reached out, running his finger down the side of her exposed thigh. Her skin quivered slightly at the touch, a reflex, but her eyes remained closed.
"Look at you," Varg whispered, stepping closer until he was face-to-face with her unconscious Elara.
He inhaled the scent of her hair, mixed with the sweet, cloying smell of the drug. "Scott doesn't know what he has. But I do. When you wake up... you'll see who the real master is."
He reached out and roughly grabbed the fabric of her gown at her hip, lifting it slightly higher to inspect the goods he had stolen.
A dark, twisted satisfaction pooled in his gut. He had taken the Lord's wife, the camp's jewel, and now she was his toy.
He began to unbuckle his heavy leather belt, the metal clinking loudly in the small cave.
"Wake up soon, darling," he chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. "You won't want to miss the fun."
Back at the Heartwood Tree, the celebration had died down completely. The silence of the night was heavy, broken only by the occasional crackle of a dying torch.
Jorunn, Elara's mother and a veteran First Ordered Spore man of the camp, walked briskly along the wooden walkway.
Her heavy boots clomped rhythmically.
She carried a basket of medicinal herbs and a flask of clean water.
She knew her daughter would be worrying herself sick over Scott, and she wanted to make sure Elara ate something before keeping vigil.
"El?" Jorunn called out softly as she approached the door. "It's Mom. I brought you some tea."
There was no answer.
"El?... El open the door.."
Jorunn frowned. Elara was a light sleeper, especially with the stress of the day.
She pushed the door. It wasn't locked.
As the door creaked open, a strange, sickly-sweet scent wafted out, hitting Jorunn in the face. It smelled like rotting honey and nightshade.
Jorunn's instincts, honed by years of surviving in the wild, screamed at her.
She dropped the basket. The clay flask shattered, water splashing across the floor.
"Elara!"
She rushed into the room. The bio-luminous lamp was still glowing, casting long shadows.
The bed was empty. The sheets were undisturbed.
The wooden chest was open; clothes scattered on the floor as if someone had been interrupted.
Jorunn spun around, her eyes scanning the room frantically. "Elara! This isn't funny!"
Then, she saw it.
The window was wide open, swaying slightly in the wind. And there, stuck in the frame, was a small, hollow bamboo tube.
Jorunn rushed to the window. She grabbed the tube, sniffing the residue on the end. Her face went pale, her blood running cold.
"Siren Mushroom..." she hissed, crushing the bamboo in her grip. "A tranquilizer."
She looked out into the dark abyss of the forest canopy. There was no sign of her daughter. Only the rustling leaves and the endless dark.
Fear was instantly replaced by a mother's cold, lethal rage. Her daughter was taken by someone.
Jorunn turned and sprinted out of the room.
"Leo! GUARDS!"
Her scream tore through the silent camp, waking everyone instantly.
"WE HAVE AN INTRUDER..!!"
Leo, who had been dozing near the main lift, jerked awake, grabbing his sword. He looked up to see Jorunn sprinting down the walkway, her face twisted in fury.
"What is it?" Leo shouted, running to meet her.
"It's Elara!" Jorunn grabbed Leo by his collar, her eyes wild. "She's gone! Someone drugged her and took her out the window!"
Leo's face hardened. "Who?"
"I don't know," Jorunn snarled, drawing the heavy blade from her back. "But if they touch a hair on her head, I will butcher them alive. Go, find me a tracker. Now!"