Savage

by Tana Stone

  She hadn’t felt so free in a long time, which she knew was pretty ironic. Caro turned her thoughts to the Dothvek sitting only meters away from her. She still needed to figure out a way to escape from him. Didn’t she?

  Sixteen

  Rukken knew he shouldn’t peek at her in the water. He’d sat with his back to her as he’d heard her disrobe and splash into the pool, but now his body was on high alert, his skin hot, and his cock swollen with desire.

  He closed his eyes as he listened. He didn’t need to watch to know that the water was beading on her naked skin and making her dark hair silky down her back. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how her wet skin would feel—soft and slick beneath his hands.

  Grunting, Rukken twisted his head. Just to ensure she was safe, he lied to himself.

  Only her head was above the water, and for the briefest moment, panic flickered in his chest when he couldn’t see it. She faced away from him and her hair had gone nearly black in the water, its shine the only thing catching the sunlight.

  He let out a breath when he realized she was moving smoothly through the water toward the far side, her arms sweeping in front of her under the surface. She was swimming. Because the pool wasn’t deep, he hadn’t worried if she could swim or not, but now he was captivated by the sight of her efficient strokes propelling her forward. The water was so clear, he could see her legs scissoring behind her, and his heart seemed to stop when he saw the curve of her naked ass.

  Rukken did not look away. He couldn’t. His gaze was riveted to her, and her lithe, lean body cutting through the water. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined, and more perfect. His cock was so hard it hurt, as he watched her turn and swim toward him, her eyes closed and an expression of pure pleasure on her face.

  His heart swelled as he watched her, the sensation almost overpowering the ache of his cock. This was the first time he’d seen anything close to pleasure on her face, and the sight of her enjoying the water and the happiness he sensed from her was something he wanted to experience again. Rukken knew in that moment that he would do anything to make her feel that way once more.

  He was staring openly when Caro stood and began to walk out of the water, brushing her wet hair off her face and blinking the water out of her eyes. His mouth went dry as he saw her completely naked for the first time—slender legs; a narrow waist; high, round breasts tipped with dusky nipples; and a narrow strip of dark hair between her legs. His gaze caught on the pink slash above her knee and the puckered skin below one shoulder. Rukken did not know he’d forgotten to breathe until his head began to swim. He let out the breath in a slow stream, hoping not to break the spell.

  She did not seem self-conscious to be standing, wet and dripping, on the bank of the small pond. It was as if the dip in the pool had transformed her, and he could almost feel the power pulsing off the female. She paused at her pile of clothes on the ground, hesitating for a moment and her confidence flickering.

  Rukken snapped out of his daze, stepped into the tent, and scooped one of the blankets up off of the floor. He strode to her, his gaze riveted to her face. Her eyes were now wide as he wrapped it around her, but she nodded as if she were a queen or a goddess and he was her attendant.

  “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head slightly. “It is time to eat.”

  She left her clothes by the water, walking with him to the fire where they both sat.

  He handed her a cup of tea, while he rotated the spits of meat that were suspended above the flame.

  “Sand serpent?” she asked, motioning to the flesh threaded on the sticks.

  He jerked his head up and make a clicking sound in his throat. “Alafari.”

  She shook her head. “That didn’t translate. What’s an alafari?”

  “A small creature that burrows beneath the sand.” He balled his hand and made a scuttling movement. “With a long tail.”

  She blinked rapidly several times. “A rat? We’re eating sand rat?”

  He twitched his shoulders. “Would you prefer serpent meat?”

  She choked back a laugh over the top of her cup. “Nope. I’ll try the rat. It can’t be worse than the snake. I hope.”

  They sat in silence as he cooked the meat, and she sipped her tea. Finally, she cleared her throat.

  “So how did you get your scar?”

  For a moment, Rukken did not know what she meant, then he craned his neck to look at the slash across one side of his back. “You noticed this when you watched me bathing?”

  Her mouth fell open, and she started to protest, then she narrowed her eyes. “Look who’s talking. You watched me.”

  He could not deny it. “It seemed fair.”

  She twisted her mouth to one side, but her lips quivered. “I guess you’re right. If we’re using that logic, do I get to tie you up, too?”

  He almost dropped the skewer he was holding. “You wish to tie me up?”

  Caro’s cheeks filled with color. “Not like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked, enjoying the pretty flush of her skin, and the way she shifted restlessly. She was embarrassed, and she was thinking of him tied up.

  Rukken realized how much he enjoyed watching her blush and feeling the heat of her embarrassment. “I sense that you would enjoy it as much as I would.”

  “That’s not true,” she spluttered, although the deepening red of her cheeks told him otherwise.

  He tried to feign indifference, even as he adjusted his rigid cock. “I am only agreeing with you that perhaps things should be more fair.”

  “I don’t think you really want that.” Her eyes held a challenge.

  “Maybe you are right.” He met her steady gaze. Females were to be protected and guarded. They could not do the same things a warrior did. Even the thought of her moving freely on the deadly sands made his gut do a flip.

  “So, are you going to tell me about your scar, or do I have to torture it out of you?”

  He wrapped an arm around his waist and ran a finger down the long, thin line. “It is the only mark I received during my tahadu.”

  Caro’s eyes registered that she knew what it was. “The coming-of-age gauntlet Dothveks go through to prove they’re warriors. T’Kar was going to do that to join the Dothvek clan.” She shot him a quick look. “Since you kidnapped me before I could watch it, I have no idea how he did.”

  Rukken gingerly pulled a bit of grilled meat off the skewer and wrapped it in a wide leaf, then handed it to her. “I am sure he survived. He was strong. For a Crestek.”

  She took the food then leaned forward to eye the mark across his back. “So, someone managed to hit you during your tahadu, and it left that scar?”

  He nodded. “Zatvar. He hit me after I’d made it through, although he claimed his strike came before the end.”

  “That guy really had it in for you.” She took a tentative bite and swallowed.

  “It is not only me.” Rukken clenched the skewer so hard his knuckles whitened. “He enjoys hurting others. Anything to make him feel dominant.”

  “I’m sorry he’s done so many awful things to you.”

  Rukken glanced up and saw that there was no laughter in her expression. “Thank you.” He held her gaze until she looked away, pink staining her cheeks again.

  “This is good,” she said.

  He agreed. It did feel good to talk to her.

  Caro held up the meat. “The rat meat. It’s actually not bad.”

  “I am glad.” He tried not to feel disappointed she was talking about the food. “Now, what about your scars?”

  Caro looked surprised before tilting her head at him. “That’s right. You got quite the eyeful, didn’t you? Well, I only have two, and both came from when I was with the Valox resistance.”

  “What is that?”

  She tugged the blanket closed in front as it slipped down one shoulder. “Before I joined my current bounty-hunting crew, I was a pilot for an underground resistance army.”

&nbs
p; He gaped at her. “You were a warrior? But you are so small.”

  “Compared to you, sure.” She straightened her shoulders, “But you don’t need to be big and bulky to be a good pilot. And I’m a pretty badass pilot.”

  “And you got your scars while you were a ‘badass pilot?’”

  She cut her eyes to him. “You don’t have to say it like you don’t believe me, and, yes, I got them during battles. Once from a blaster to the shoulder, and once when a beam from the ceiling of the ship fell and slashed my leg.”

  Rukken flinched, imagining his female in a battle and being shot at and then wounded. “You should not have been fighting. Females should not be warriors.”

  “Maybe not on this planet, but where I come from, women can do anything they want to do.”

  His stomach roiled at the thought of her hurt, the images of her sinking into the lightning sand sending fresh waves of fear through him. “On this planet, females are rare and valuable. I would never risk my mate in battle.”

  “Good thing I’m not your mate.”

  He met her flashing eyes, more certain than ever that she was his. “We will see.”

  Seventeen

  Caro pursed her lips. Not this shit again. Just when she was starting to think he wasn’t so bad. “You really need to stop saying that.”

  “Why should I stop saying it when it is true?”

  She took the last bite of the grilled meat, chewing it viciously as she fumed. When she’d swallowed it, she stood. “You can’t go around deciding people are your mate just because you want them. It doesn’t work that way.”

  He looked genuinely confused as he also stood. “I did not go around deciding ‘people’ were my mate. You are the only female I have ever wanted.”

  Caro felt a strange rush of pleasure, but she ignored it. “Because I was the one you happened to abduct.”

  His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened. “No. I knew you were meant to be mine from the moment I saw you on the sands. I felt the connection.”

  “Wait. You saw me on the dunes? When?”

  “When you and the other females and Dothveks found the Crestek.”

  Caro’s pulse fluttered. She remembered sensing something when they’d been out on the desert looking for T’Kar. And she’d definitely thought someone was watching her. “That was you?”

  He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “You sensed me.”

  The warmth from his fingers spread up her arms, making her muscles uncoil. What was going on? Why could she sense things from him, and why did his touch make her body ignite? She jerked her hand away from him. “I don’t know what I felt. I only know that you kidnapped me, and you’re holding me captive and keeping me away from my friends. There could never be anything between us, no matter what kind of mind magic you try to pull.”

  Rukken’s face looked stricken as she backed away.

  She spun around, dragging the blanket with her and ducking inside the tent. “I need to lie down.”

  Even though the tent was still overly warm, she was glad to be away from him for a moment so she could think. When he touched her, her brain stopped working properly. And she needed to think.

  Caro flopped face first onto the makeshift bed that was really just a thick pile of blankets and furs, and the sands shifted beneath it all. She let out a long breath.

  Why did she feel so conflicted? This was a clear-cut case. Rukken abducted her, and was holding her against her will. He’d tied her up and announced that she was his mate. She should have no problem hating his guts. So why didn’t she?

  Why did her stomach clench every time she saw the look of hurt cross his face, as if she’d kicked a Prathian puppy? Why did she feel sympathy for him? Why did she actually believe that he’d been falsely accused of murder and unfairly exiled?

  She couldn’t explain it, but she trusted him.

  “Which is bat-shit crazy,” she muttered to herself. “What kind of person trusts a guy who ties her up?”

  Her skin tingled as she thought of him tying her up, his strong hands binding hers, and she rolled her eyes at herself. “Get a fucking grip, Caro. This is not the time for Stockholm syndrome. You need to be thinking of a way out of here.”

  She tried to focus her mind on escaping, which was a possibility now that she was no longer tied up, although she guessed the ropes would be coming back out as soon as it was nighttime. The only problem with escaping was that she really didn’t know the desert well, and falling into the desert quicksand on her last attempt had proven that.

  As much as she hated to admit, a tiny part of her didn’t want to leave. She missed her friends, but she liked the quiet of the single tent and the luxury of getting to bathe naked in the pool. She didn’t even mind the food he prepared for her. If he would just drop the whole “destined mates” routine, their conversations wouldn’t be so bad, either. For a barbarian who’d been living alone for ages, he wasn’t horrible company.

  But no way did she buy that they were meant to be together. She’d never believed in fate in the first place, and she certainly didn’t think the guy she was supposed to be with—if there even was one guy for her—was an exiled barbarian from a sand planet. It was just too crazy.

  It wasn’t like Caro was even looking for love. She’d pushed that idea out of her mind a while ago. It had seemed easier to focus on doing her job as a pilot and keeping her bounty-hunting friends safe. She was happy that Danica and Holly—and even Max, the doctor who’d been their bounty—had fallen for aliens from the planet, but she couldn’t imagine it for herself. It almost felt wrong to want that for herself.

  She was a pilot. She got her friends out of scrapes and away from danger. She didn’t need anything in return, even though it sounded a little sad when she thought about it like that.

  Caro rolled over on her back and huffed out a breath. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Before she was abducted, she didn’t have any issues. She’d been focused on getting their various crew members back, and figuring out a way to get them off the planet. Now, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  “But not an alien mate,” she reassured herself, hearing Rukken stomp around outside.

  He clearly wasn’t thrilled with how their conversation had ended, and she wondered if that meant she was going to find herself tied up to the pole again. She hoped not, since she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

  She draped an arm over her forehead and tugged the blanket so that it covered her chest, feeling the heat of the afternoon settle on her and make her eyelids droop. She’d get her clothes later. It was too hot to do anything, even argue with herself.

  I’ll just rest my eyes for a second, she thought, as her eyelids fluttered shut and a large shadow fell over her.

  Eighteen

  K’alvek pulled back on the reins as his jebel loped down a long sand dune. Behind him, the rhythmic sound of more wide hooves pitter-patted against the sand as the caravan followed. The suns were starting to dip low in the sky, and soon they would be below the horizon and night would fall. He wanted to make camp before that happened. He knew the females might complain they were stopping, but after traveling through the previous night and the entire day, the rescue party needed rest.

  It had been slow going. They had been forced to backtrack several times, which meant they were crisscrossing the wide desert in search for the exile and his captive. He was not surprised that the Dothvek was proving elusive, but it did not make him happy that the search was taking so much longer than he had expected. He knew his mate and the other females were also impatient—and exhausted.

  K’alvek had been searching for a good campsite for a while, and he let out a relieved breath as he appraised the sand in front of him. The wide valley at the base of the sand dune was large enough, and the sand appeared to be solid. Squinting, he did not notice any tracks or patterns in the sand that would indicate hidden eddies beneath the surface or sleeping beasts. As a Dothvek hunter, he was used to looking for clues l
eft by the creatures that dwelled beneath the sands. Luckily, here he saw none, and he nodded to himself.

  K’alvek glanced down at the blonde sitting between his legs, her covered head tucked under his chin. His mate. His heart squeezed, and he shifted to tug her closer to him, a familiar surge of protectiveness rising in his chest. Protectiveness she would hate. He knew Danica liked to think of herself as tough—as did her crew—but she did not know what the sands were like at night. Although he had faith in his fellow warriors, he did not want to risk his mate’s life.

  He’d also sensed her weariness as they’d trudged further across the dunes. She was not used to long journeys like this, and he’d sensed her energy waning. Not that she would ever admit it. His pretty mate was too stubborn for that. It was one of the many reasons he loved her, but it was also why he knew he needed to protect her. She would never protect herself if she thought she could help one of her friends.

  No, they would stop for the night and continue their trek in the morning. He held up a fist, hearing the others slowing behind him. “We camp here.”

  There were murmurs of assent as the jebels circled the flat stretch of sand, depositing riders. He slipped off his jebel and reached up to help Danica down. Like all the human females, she wore pale fabric draped to cover her face for the long ride across the unrelenting sands. Still, when she pulled it off, her cheeks were pink and sweat beaded her brow.

  K’alvek smoothed a pale wave off her forehead. “Are you well, mate?”

  She fanned herself with both hands. “Never been better. I won’t be sad when the suns set, though.”

  He knew all the females would be glad for the break from the heat. Dothveks were immune from the effects of the blistering suns, but humans were definitely not.