The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel

by Evangeline Anderson

  He watched Lan’ara go down the vine-draped hallway and kept his eyes on her until she went into his quarters. Only when he heard the door snick shut and the lock click into place did he turn to go.

  “You’re getting pretty possessive of that girl of yours, Needrix,” Psoas remarked. “How are you going to make yourself let her go once we get to Genu Six?”

  The engineer’s question caught Need off guard. He had to admit it was true that the idea of Lan’ara with another male made him want to go into Rage. And when he had been searching for her, it wasn’t just because she was a valuable piece of property that might be damaged or devalued—it was because he was worried about her.

  Because you love her, whispered a little voice in the back of his head but Need pushed that aside. It was nonsense—he couldn’t love anyone. Not since Cleah had died. All his capacity for love had died with his mate—of that he was certain. He was just being careful of Lan’ara—that was all—just protecting her because of his Kindred nature, which dictated that he must protect and care for females. It was nothing more than that.

  “Genu Six hasn’t called back about her,” he said shortly, replying to Psoas’s question without really answering it. “Doesn’t look like the deal will go through after all.”

  “Good,” Psoas said immediately, surprising Need. He frowned at the engineer.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m glad Lan’ara will be staying with us. Not because I find her attractive in any way,” Psoas said quickly, retracting his neck when Need glared at him. “But because I like her as a person.”

  “You just like that she makes you your damn small cakes,” Need growled, grinning a little.

  But Psoas shook his head.

  “It’s not just that. She’s kind and thoughtful, Need. A good crewmate—a good soul. And if you ask Laxah or Kreeva and Krax, they’ll say the same. Hell, Captain Glo’ll will too. She just fits with us—with The Dark Star. The way some people never have.”

  Need knew he must be referring to Drung, which was hardly surprising. Nobody fit well with a Trollox—not even another Trollox.

  “I agree,” he said shortly and he did. He had known, of course, that Lan’ara was liked by the rest of the crew—it just surprised him a little to hear how much she was liked. She hadn’t been with them that long, but apparently his heart wasn’t the only one she had touched.

  “Keep an eye on her for me if Drung comes back before I do,” he said to Psoas, who nodded in agreement. “I won’t be long.”

  He hoped. But who knew how long it was going to take to straighten the mess with Myakk out? In the meantime, though, he felt good knowing that Lan’ara was locked safely in his quarters and that she wouldn’t come out for any reason.

  It was the only way for her to stay safe.

  Forty-Two

  Lan’ara poked her head out of the door and listened intently. No, Drung hadn’t come back—she was certain of it. She would have heard the Trollox’s heavy tread, which seemed to shake the entire ship, and smelled his foul stench if he had. He was definitely still gone.

  Which meant it should be safe to run down and take a quick sonic shower.

  She normally would have stayed in Need’s quarters, as he had instructed her. But after all she had gone through that day, she felt desperately dirty and in need of being cleaned. She would have liked to take a long soak in the tub, but she didn’t think she could stand to have the wash blossoms torment her just now.

  The touch hunger inside her had grown exponentially, even in the past hour. Lan’ara wasn’t sure why that was—maybe because someone besides Need had tried to touch her sexually or maybe just because it had been some time since she had been intimate with the big Kindred. For whatever reason, the hungry flower inside her had unfurled its petals and was begging to be touched…to be filled.

  If I have to sit in the bath and let those damn wash blossoms suck my nipples and nether regions without Need here to help me afterwards, I’ll go crazy, she told herself. I’ll just sneak down the hall and take a super fast sonic shower and come right back again.

  Of course the sonic waves against her bare flesh were plenty stimulating too, but she was better able to shield her sensitive parts from the waves than from the blossoms, which she was forbidden to be rough with. And since the blossoms were so delicate, that meant she was forced to just sit in the tub and let them have their way with her.

  She did that most nights, because a bath was much more pleasant than the sonic shower and because Need was always there to help her take the edge off her desire afterwards. In fact, sometimes the big Kindred came and watched her bathe—an activity which aroused both of them since Lan’ara felt both vulnerable and sexy with the blossoms stimulating her and her man watching.

  Afterwards, Need couldn’t wait to put his tongue between her thighs and taste her honey—sometimes he even sat her on the edge of the tub and did it while the wash blossoms continued to suck her nipples. Lan’ara would moan and run her fingers through his thick hair—he never seemed to get tired of lapping her pussy. And however many times she came, he always wanted her to come just once more.…

  “That’s right, girl,” he would growl, looking up at her. “That’s right…come for me one more time while I taste your soft little pussy. Come all over my face…”

  Stop it—stop thinking of it! Lan’ara ordered herself sternly. You’re only making the flower inside hungrier—more needy. And you know there’s nothing you can do about it until Need comes back because no touch but his makes it better.

  Which was completely true. She had tried touching herself in the past several days—something she never would have even considered in her life before. But though her own fingers on her heated flesh felt good, she could never quite reach the peak of pleasure on her own. The orgasms which came so easily when Need was touching or tasting her, eluded her without him. It seemed that her body craved his touch and his alone.

  But it was time to stop wishing for Need and get her shower—if she dared, Lan’ara told herself. Fixing her mind firmly on other things, she wrapped the big Kindred’s shirt tightly around herself and set off quickly down the corridor.

  Thankfully, she didn’t meet anyone on her way to the small sonic shower. She slipped inside the alcove, doffed Need’s shirt, and adjusted the controls for a medium-strength shower, which was about all she could stand. At maximum strength, the sonic waves nearly knocked her over.

  After washing herself all over—(and trying not to get too stimulated in the process)—Lan’ara slipped Need’s shirt back on and peeked out into the corridor to be certain no one was coming.

  No one was, and she was just about to slip out and run straight back to Need’s quarters, when she happened to glance in the other direction and saw that Drung’s door was ajar.

  Her heart leapt up into her mouth. Oh Gods and Goddesses, had the huge Trollox somehow come back without her hearing him? But how was that possible? He always made so much noise and his heavy tread shook the entire ship when he walked. Also, you could always hear him moving around in his room, swearing and talking to himself when he was there. Lan’ara supposed that talking to yourself would be an occupational hazard if you had three heads but still…

  You haven’t heard him because he isn’t here, whispered a little voice in her head.

  There’s no way he could have gotten back to his room without making a sound—he’s too big and clumsy. Maybe he just left the door to his room open because he was in such a hurry to get to that Trollox whorehouse.

  Yes, that sounded about right, Lan’ara thought to herself. And he was probably there still, amusing himself with some poor girl. She hoped at least the girls there were also Trollox—they would probably be able to handle a nasty customer like Drung better than a normal humanoid female would.

  So thinking, she was about to head back down the corridor to Need’s quarters for the second time, when something in the Trollox’s room caught her eye. It was the shi
ny liquid crystal screen of her file—Lan’ara would have known it anywhere.

  She froze in place, half in and half out of the sonic shower’s alcove. Her body was turned towards Need’s quarters but her head was pointed towards Drung’s room.

  My file! Her heart started to pound. Never in all her time at Twyleth Tigg had she been allowed to read her own information. But contained on the small, liquid crystal display screen was everything Lan’ara needed so desperately to know about herself.

  What was causing her touch cravings? Who or what had planted the hungry flower inside her? Why did her breasts fill and her nipples leak nectar when she was aroused? Why was she suddenly having the desperate need to be filled between her legs? What would happen to her if she wasn’t filled? What would happen if she was?

  Lately she’d been so desperate, she’d begged Need to take her—which, so far, the big Kindred had declined to do. But what if he did? Would it leave some kind of permanent mark on her? Make her unable to be with any other male? Not that she wanted any other male, but these things would be good to know.

  All these questions and more could be answered with just one swift glance at her personal, private information—information about her body—which ought, by rights, to be hers!

  But taking that one quick glance would mean going into dangerous territory—actually entering Drung’s room, which Need had forbidden her to do. Lan’ara had promised the big Kindred to stay far away from the Trollox’s territory—a promise she’d never anticipated having difficulty keeping.

  I should go, she told herself. Just ignore it and go.

  But the surface of the liquid crystal screen beckoned her, winking like a knowing eye. Come on, it seemed to say. Come on, Lan’ara—I have all the answers. Come look for just a moment.

  Lan’ara’s fists clenched in frustration.

  On one hand, she wanted to know about herself—had to know what was happening to her body—didn’t she? But on the other hand, she had promised Need never to go into the Trollox’s room, which was terribly dangerous.

  She bit her lip, torn by indecision.

  What should she do?

  Forty-Three

  A quick peek, Lan’ara told herself. Just a quick peek and then I’ll get out of here and run back to Need’s quarters.

  Stepping lightly and quickly, now that she had made up her mind, she went swiftly to the Trollox’s door and pushed it further open.

  Inside, was a rat’s nest of filth. Dirty clothes, crumpled blankets, and crusty dishes, foul with rotting bits of food, all littered the floor. The smell was horrible and Lan’ara took a step back, her hand going involuntarily to her nose. Gods and Goddesses, it reeked in here! How could anyone—even a Trollox—bear it?

  Holding her nose, she continued her quick, visual inspection of the room. She was possessed by a dreadful kind of curiosity—the same kind that makes you examine the bottom of your shoe after stomping down on a nasty, hairy spider. It was so awful she just had to look.

  Aside from a small cook station which contained a food-crusted heating element, there wasn’t much to see in the room, besides the sleeping platform and a rack with an array of strangely phallic objects.

  Lan’ara frowned. What were those?

  A flimsy paper periodical on the floor beside the bed answered her question. When she kicked it over with her foot, Lan’ara saw a luridly colored image of a humanoid girl with long, dark wavy hair chained naked to a bed. Between her legs, one of the metallic, phallic objects could be seen protruding. There was a look of agony on her face.

  “Stretchers sized to make the female of your choice open enough for your shaft!” read the crude printing at the bottom of the picture. “Breed her deep and plant your heir!”

  Lan’ara shivered in horror and disgust as she realized what she was looking at. These must be the “stretchers” Drung had been talking about using on her. If Need hadn’t bought her, she’d probably be in the same awful position as the girl in the periodical…

  Stop it—don’t think about that! she told herself sternly. This isn’t why you’re here.

  True enough. It was time to get down to getting some answers about herself.

  Her file was lying on the sagging mattress—its black fame and liquid crystal display winking at her invitingly. Lan’ara snatched it up and tapped the shiny surface with one finger, the way she’d seen the school nurse do time and again.

  At once, her name swam into the center of the screen. Only her first name though, she noted.

  Lan’ara—a graduate of Twyleth Tigg Academy, the graceful script said.

  Frowning, Lan’ara tapped the screen again. The first letters faded and a new script began to write itself before her eyes.

  Congratulations on your purchase of a Twyleth Tigg Bride! (it read.) Your new bride comes with a few instructions for use before you can enjoy her to her fullest capacity so please read carefully.

  Lan’ara’s frown deepened. What in the Seven Hells—as Need would say—was this? Her file read like a set of instructions for a mechanized toy or an exotic new pet. It made her sound less like a person and more like an expensive acquisition—a thing.

  She read on.

  For your convenience and pleasure, your Twyleth Tigg Bride has been injected with Lust Bacterium, the script continued. This ensures that once you touch her intimately, her bond with you will begin to grow. She will begin to crave your touch and her honey, (should you care to taste it) will grow sweet. Her breasts will swell with nectar which may leak from her nipples while you are touching her. Do not worry—this is a completely normal side effect of the Lust Bacterium in action. The nectar is completely safe to ingest, as are your new bride’s other juices.

  Lan’ara blinked. Well, at least that explained why her breasts got so full and achy and nectar leaked from them when Need touched her. But what about the emptiness inside her? The hungry flower clamoring to be filled?

  She tapped the screen again and new information appeared, flowing in elegant script across the liquid crystal.

  Please note that your Twyleth Tigg bride will develop “The Thirst” which will require her to suck your shaft and drink your seed often. If you wish to punish her, you can withhold it, but as a general rule, you should allow her to drink from you at least once a week, lest she become deficient.

  Deficient? Deficient in what? Lan’ara shook her head and kept reading.

  The Thirst for your seed and the Touch Cravings which drive her to seek your hands on her body are not the only needs your bride will develop, the script read. Your new bride will also crave your shaft inside her. She will feel an emptiness which must be filled and you alone can fill her! Because, once the initial bond is formed, the touch of another male will sicken her completely.

  That’s right—you need never worry about your Twyleth Tigg bride cheating on you because the touch of another male’s hand upon her skin will trigger an attack of nausea so strong, she will eject the contents of her stomach upon him the moment he attempts to violate her. Rest assured, that your Twyleth Tigg bride is only for YOU and you alone.

  Lan’ara stared at the screen as comprehension washed over her. She remembered how horribly nauseous she’d felt with the “customer” who had attempted to have sex with her at Mistress Bigaboo’s establishment. No wonder his very touch had made her sick to her stomach! It was because he wasn’t Need and Need was the male she was bonded to.

  But how deep was the bond? How permanent? Was it imperfect because the big Kindred had yet to take her sexually—had yet to put his shaft inside her and make love to her? Would that tie them together forever?

  Gods and Goddesses, how she wished it would! How she wished he would claim her completely and make her his forever! He—

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of the ship’s main entrance crashing open and heavy footsteps that shook the floor.

  “Well that was no good, no it wasn’t,” a deep, grating voice complained. “A brothel shouldn’t be allow
ed to say they cater to Trollox and then not have any free girlies to ride a male’s shaft, no they shouldn’t!”

  Oh, no! The delicate liquid crystal screen slipped from Lan’ara’s numb fingers and landed on the floor. By great bad luck, it landed on the one place with no dirty clothes or crusty blankets to cushion is fall. There was a cracking sound as one corner connected with the bare metal floor—the Trollox’s room being the one place on board the ship where greenery absolutely wouldn’t grow.

  But she had more urgent concerns than the file. What would she do if Drung caught her in his room? What if he tried to force one of those horrible spreaders inside her—or worse, his own shaft?

  Feeling almost sick with terror, she flattened herself to one side of the door and listened hard. Where could she hide if he came in? Under the bed? But it was so low she would barely fit. And if Drung decided to sit or lie down on it, his bulk might crush her right through the sagging mattress.

  No, she couldn’t hide, she decided. She had to make a run for it—but how could she get past him in the narrow metal ship’s corridor without the huge Trollox catching her?

  Then she heard another voice.

  “Back so soon?” Psoas asked. “Thought you told us not to wait up for you.”

  “The brothel lied, so it did,” Drung’s deep, grating voice replied. “They said they had girlies that were only for Trollox males but the only ones free were Trollox females!”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Psoas asked. “I would think you’d want to be with your own kind.”

  “Nah—Trollox females got loose pussies,” Drung complained. “I likes ‘em tight, so I do. That’s why humanoid females are best to fuck—and to carry heirs.”

  “What would you do with an heir if you got one, though?” Psoas asked conversationally. “I mean—how would you raise a baby on a smuggler’s ship?”

  At this point, Lan’ara dared to stick her head out around the door and saw that the Trollox’s back was to her and all three of his ugly heads were focused on the engineer. If she made a break for it now, she ought to be able to get back to the alcove where the sonic shower was located.