Unconditional Dominance

Obedience

Dawson POV

We were approaching the first camp, and I felt the bitter weight of leadership and responsibility take the place of the tenderness I had shown Keeley. I had men's lives on the line, and I needed to see them home. Whether the camps cooperated or not had no bearing on that. I would put my people first every time.

But logic like that wasn't likely to sit well with Keeley, and I felt bad for the possible outcome she might see. Sometimes our attempt at peace went sour. I didn't want Keeley to see that.

I wanted to shield her from the ugly side of this war.

After signaling to my men to stop and remain quiet, I turned Keeley in my arms until she sat sideways in my lap. Her big eyes found mine, and I felt that tenderness again. She made me feel more human than I had since leaving home two years ago... But I couldn't spare any gentleness right now. I needed her to understand the gravity of our situation.

"Keeley, I need you to listen to me," I told her firmly, and I could almost feel her physically shrink in my arms. "It's important that you do exactly as I say. These visits don't always go the way I hope they would. Sometimes conflict arises, and if that happens, it's important that you don't try to involve yourself. I understand that you may know these people, and I'm going to try to do everything in my power to keep things civil. But you cannot involve yourself. Do you understand?"

She nodded, but I needed more from her this time.

"I need you to tell me that you understand, Keeley."

She fidgeted and her eyes darted from mine momentarily before responding with: "I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"That I can't get involved..."

"You absolutely cannot get involved," I confirmed one more time. "This can't be like another one of those times where you don't listen to me. You have to listen to everything I say from here on out."

She nodded again, catching onto the severity of our situation. "I will."

I nodded, appreciating her cooperation and understanding. In my head, however, I was praying to all the gods in the universe that she followed through on her word. The stress of how badly this could go if she did not do everything I said weighed heavily in my chest and churned my stomach.

Kicking my horse forward, I allowed several of my men to lead the way. Normally I always put myself in front, but not with Keeley. So, Grayson and Sam took five others and the rest flanked at the sides and a few in the back. They understood the assignment–they were also protecting Keeley.

Grayson looked back once, we met eyes, and exchanged a nod, for no other reason but to say that we had each other's backs. We had done this so many times that it no longer required discussion. My men knew what to do.

Everyone had a gun or two on them. Everyone had a blade. We had our horses if we needed to flee. We had the balls not to though. And we had Keeley.

Keeley was going to be the key that ended the war. I was sure of it. She had no idea how powerful her part in all of this was.

If she played her part correctly, that is...

Quietly, we approached. The thumping of the horses' hooves were muffled in the soft dirt of the forest floor. We could hear them–faintly, voices, and the sound of working men, and playing children. But they couldn't hear us. And they wouldn't. We were too damn good at our jobs to be heard.

Metal clanked on metal–the sound of someone smithing tools. Buckets gulped in rivers, pouring and splashing against rocks. Women–wives, mothers, sisters, daughters; they were cleaning linen. And children tossed rocks, and jumped from stones, and played in the river.