The Goblin Bride (Beneath Sands Book 1)

she could hardly feel her fingertips let alone rouse herself to feel fear. She should have been screaming once more.
 Simon’s hand on her arms clenched tighter the instant she felt her braid snap backwards. Letting out a shriek as her hair was yanked backwards, she was quickly whipped against the wall. Her head cracked hard against the stone. She reeled, her vision suddenly skewed and the tunnel tilted sideways as she hit the ground.
 She could hear the sound of fighting. Smacks of flesh against flesh that made her sick to her stomach. There was no holding back in those sounds. Each hit made her wince, the loud sounds hurting her head. She pushed herself onto her hands and knees even though the stones bit into her hands and the floor seemed to tilt beneath her.
 Simon was the one fighting that creature. She couldn’t let him fight that thing alone. There had to be something that she could do. Surely she hadn’t been created with this man like figure only to die completely helpless. There was no doubt in her mind that this monster wanted to kill her. She had seen it in those pitch black eyes that had no soul to speak of.
 Her arms shook as she tried to push herself upright. All she could manage was to hold herself on her hands and knees and listen to the sounds of that creature killing a man she had considered honorable and kind. At least she had until he had killed one of those creatures in cold blood before her eyes. She could not forget that strange tightness in her chest that made her question everything that was happening.
 A thud from next to her made her blink. Even turning her head seemed painful, yet she somehow managed to crane her neck to see Simon lying down next to her. His eyes were closed, swelling already visible around his jaw and cheekbones. She couldn’t tell if he was dead or not.
 Warm liquid dripped down her face. It dripped into her mouth as she tried to heave in a breath. Metallic and bitter it was blood that coated her tongue when she tried to swallow.
 Booted feet stepped into her vision. She squinted at them, trying to figure out who would be wearing such strange shoes. Little more than leather wrappings, they were too large to be anyone that she knew. Besides, the miners wore boots with heavy soles so that the rocks couldn’t cut into them.
 Her eyes traveled up the length, noting that both knees and thighs were treated in much the same fashion. Leather wrapped armor so it seemed. Up a bared chest with bright blooms of red across it and up to the face that was both startling and captivating. He seemed both human and inhuman at the same time. She had just a moment to stare at him before his booted foot slammed into her face and the darkness of the tunnel swallowed her.

CHAPTER FOUR
HE WAITED UNTIL the smaller human passed out before he started breathing hard again. The man had been large and a better fighter than he had expected. No human could fight as well as the goblins of course. The strange name that the humans called them had been adopted by his kind. However the bright red bruises on his chest that were already forming were a testament to the man’s skill. He had hit harder than most and Ruric would hold his mark for days to come.
 The man had gone straight for his ribs. At one point, Ruric was certain he had been planning to punch through his ribcage and rip out his heart. It was something a goblin would have done and as such he honored the man in his attempts. Even though he did not have the claws to do so.
 Humans were generally weak. There had been a few, like this man, that Ruric had seen in his time who were commendable. None of them could have survived a true fight with a goblin though. They lacked the sharpness of goblin teeth and the strength of goblin hands.
 Wincing, he leaned down to click off the lights of their helmets. More would be coming soon. Humans never seemed to be alone for long and the sound of fighting would draw the others. Sometimes he wondered if they scented the blood in the air like the deepwater fish Below. Perhaps they could taste it.
 Still though, there was enough time for him to lean down to the body. It had been a young goblin, thin and likely curious about the humans. His clawed hand gently tilted the face towards him and Ruric bowed his head in recognition. Shusar would be saddened to hear that one of his sons had died. The boy was one of the last brood of their kind.
 He had always had an unhealthy interest in humans and likely had snuck off to observe them. It was a frequent enjoyment of their young. Humans were so very different from them. They wanted to watch the pale pink creatures toil away at stone that was unyielding to their weak bodies. Sometimes they would speak, startling the young ones at how loud they sounded, how harsh their language could be.
 He shouldered the body, picking up the youngling as though he hardly weighed anything. Goblins were a strong race of people, sometimes too strong when it came to jobs that required gentility. Ruric was among the strongest, his body built for battle and hard work. There were more battles now as his kind fought against the humans to simply survive.
 As he stepped around the humans lying on the ground, he noticed a glint in the darkness that his large eyes could see so clearly in.
 Once again he bent, taking a knee next to the large human that had fought well against him. Fisted in the man’s hand was the necklace of the boy slung across