Savages: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Loki Renard

  “The sheep may love the sheepdog, but that doesn’t mean they want to lie with him,” Stryker says.

  I can’t imagine women not wanting to lie with Maverick, Ice, Hans, and Stryker. They are all handsome men with raw power that commands erotic response. The women of the city would swoon for them, I know that much. Surely the women of the tribe cannot be so different they don’t notice.

  I was expecting to be met with love rivals once we returned to the tribe, but all the women we’ve encountered have lowered their eyes and turned away. There are blushes and giggles, but none of the brazen interest my men surely warrant.

  “Who do they lie with, then?”

  “Chief Conan has many wives,” Maverick explains. “When women come of age, they marry him, or are traded to other tribes.”

  “And men?”

  “They may act as guardians, but it is forbidden to sleep with Conan’s brides. Most leave. That is why we are important. We guard the tribe and we hunt the meat.”

  Four men to protect all these women, children, and one chief?

  Chief Conan has a very sweet deal. He doesn’t have to hunt or protect the tribe; all he has to do is sleep with his wives all day long and wait for the hunters to bring him meat.

  There are some crops, and small birds that provide eggs and meat, but for real game, they depend on Hans, Maverick, Ice, and Stryker. My men.

  I am completely confused, and not entirely pleased. I didn’t know what to expect when we came here, but it wasn’t this.

  “Why do you do this?”

  “Why do we do what?”

  “Why do you let him hoard all the women while you do all the work?”

  Maverick laughs, his handsome face contorting with genuine amusement. “Conan does not have an easy task. A dozen wives make for endless torment. Conan does not spend a minute of his life without a woman or three in his ear. When the wives are displeased…”

  “Which they always are,” Ice says, rolling his eyes.

  “He must settle endless quarrels and complaints…”

  “Women are trouble,” Hans says. “Better one wild woman between four than twelve women to one man.”

  “Better a dozen rabid dogs than twelve women snarling over a chief’s bone,” Maverick smirks.

  They don’t seem upset by the arrangement at all. They don’t seem to have much interest in the village women either, which is strange because many of them are very beautiful. They have perfect almond-shaped eyes, and a range of hair colors from brilliant platinum blonde to the darkest raven shades. In the aftermath of the Mostly End, people from all over the world came together in small communities. There are bloodlines from across the globe reflected in the people of the tribe.

  “You don’t want any of them? Conan could have eight brides and you could have one each…”

  “We are related to most of them,” Maverick says. “They are our sisters and cousins. We were always going to take a mate from outside the tribe. Conan can mate with impunity because he was not originally one of us. His red hair marks him as other.”

  “Just like mine does?”

  “Just like yours,” Hans smiles, drawing me into his lap.

  “Stryker could have been with anyone in the tribe though…”

  There’s a pause, a moment of uncomfortable silence. Stryker smiles.

  “What?” I can feel there’s another story going untold.

  “Our previous encampment was near a forest’s edge. It was easier to come up upon it in the dead of night and this fucker did just that,” Maverick says. “He’s just lucky he didn’t impregnate any of the women he took.”

  “They’re called condoms,” Stryker drawls.

  “Plastic between you and a woman? What’s the point?”

  “Not knocking up your sister?”

  Ice makes a near feral snarl and I can’t help but giggle. Stryker is teasing Ice, and he really doesn’t like it. Ice is strong and smart and dangerously sexy, but he doesn’t have anything like a sense of humor.

  “I’ll knock you around, boy,” Ice growls.

  “Easy,” Maverick says. “This is why we don’t talk about the subject.”

  They might be done talking about the subject, but I’m not. I’m fascinated.

  “So you were hiding in the woods and having sex with the ladies of the tribe?”

  “They thought he was a sexy ghost,” Hans murmurs, rumbling as he laughs. “They sometimes went out in pairs to visit him.”

  “Oh, my…”

  Stryker grins wider.

  “Stryker was with several women before we caught him,” Ice says. “By all rights he should have been put to death, but he acquitted himself well in battle.”

  “He wounded Ice and Maverick quite badly,” Hans murmurs in my ear. I love how he translates the information for me, telling me the things I need to know when the others will not.

  “We realized he was of more use alive than dead. Good hunters and warriors cannot be wasted.”

  Stryker’s smile is broadening. He’s obviously not sorry for what he did. I can imagine him lurking in the woods with all his city wiles, seducing the innocent tribal women. And I can imagine how angry Maverick and Ice and Hans must have been when they discovered him—not to mention Chief Conan.

  “They beat the shit out of me,” Stryker laughs.

  “True. Once he was recovered he passed the trials,” Hans says. “And here we are. One happy tribe.”

  “Except I have to lie about who I am and pretend I’m not from the city.”

  “Nobody will speak to you,” Maverick says. “So it should not be a hardship. We will be leaving on another hunting trip once your moon blood time is over.”

  I guess he’s talking about my period. I haven’t had one of those in years.

  “I don’t get a moon blood time.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a thing, an implant, that stops it.”

  The men look at each other with consternation and confusion, as if I’ve just told them I like to lop my limbs off for the fun of it.

  “Why would you have that?”

  “Because it means I don’t have to bleed.”

  “Women are supposed to bleed. As are men, just in different ways. Men are the warriors of the world. Women are the warriors of the home.”

  “Sexists are the sexists of the universe,” I scowl. “I don’t want to have a moon time. They hurt and they’re pointless.”

  “You have to have one in order to conceive,” Stryker says.

  “I don’t want to conceive.”

  Their reactions range from amused to shocked. Hans’ arms tighten around me almost imperceptibly, Maverick’s brows rise, Ice gives me a sharp look as if I’ve done something wrong, and Stryker just shakes his head.

  “What?”

  “It’s okay,” Stryker says. “I can take that implant out of her. They’re short-acting.”

  “Good. Do it.” Maverick gives the order. Just like that. As if he has supreme right to my body. The amusement I felt at the whole Stryker seducing their sisters situation fades immediately.

  Hans’ arms are tighter around me for a reason. He knew. He knew what Maverick was going to say, and what I was going to do.

  “It just takes a quick scalpel incision,” Stryker says. He’s moving toward his medical kit.

  I tense up and shake my head. “No.”

  Nobody is listening to me. I try to stand up to assert myself more, but Hans has me trapped on his lap.

  “Let me go,” I growl.

  “Settle, little bear,” he murmurs in my ear. “We won’t hurt you.”

  Stryker has retrieved a scalpel. I watch as he rubs pure alcohol over the blade. The sight gives me chills and makes me squirm on Hans’ lap, not that it makes a difference. He is gripping me securely by the hips and there’s no way to get loose.

  “Hold still,” Stryker says, his voice soothing, but not soothing enough.

  “Leave me alone! I don’t want it to come out.” />
  “It’s coming out,” Maverick says, stepping over to me. “Where is it?”

  “I’m not telling you.” I stare at him defiantly. I know where the little shaft is hiding. They’ll never find it.

  “It’s usually in the upper arm,” Stryker says. “I installed thousands of these things.”

  He starts running his fingers over my upper arm, precariously close to the spot where the implant is located. Dammit. He really does know. In a second he’s going to find it and then I’ll be fucked in a whole new way.

  There’s only one thing for it. I bite him. Hard.

  Two of his fingers are caught between my teeth as he lets out an angry shout. I see I’ve left good indentations in his skin as he yanks his hand away and shakes it, looking at me with angry eyes.

  I don’t get a chance to gloat. Hans turns me over his lap, his large hands keeping me easily under control as my hips find his thigh and my hands hit the floor. One large arm wraps around my waist and then his other hand finds my ass with a loud smack that echoes around the room and is followed by a painful ache.

  “Don’t bite,” he lectures sternly.

  “He was going to cut me!”

  “It doesn’t matter what Stryker was going to do. You don’t bite. Ever.” Hans keeps lecturing me as he spanks me long and hard, his palm catching my ass over and over again, top, bottom, sides of my cheeks all receiving painful swats from his massive hand.

  This isn’t fair. They were going to cut me and I’m the one in trouble. They were going to make me bleed, and I’m not allowed to defend myself. Assholes. As bursts of pain hit my nervous system over and over, I get angrier and angrier. I’m not sorry for biting Stryker. I’d do it again, and I will do it again if they try to take the implant. I can remember what periods were like when I had them, and I don’t want them back. Ever.

  Hans spanks me until my ass feels like it’s made of molten lava. Ordinarily I’d cry, but I’m too angry to cry. How fucking dare they do this to me? They’re not even pretending to care what I want.

  He finally stops spanking. My ass is throbbing and burning and I know I won’t feel comfortable for a long time. I don’t like this side of Hans. He’s usually my ally, not the one punishing me, but right now he’s as much my enemy as any of them are.

  “You’re going to settle down and you’re going to let Stryker take that thing out,” he says, as if he can just order my submission.

  “No, I’m not!” I shout the words defiantly. “If you try again I’m going to…”

  “Hold her down,” Maverick says. He sounds almost bored.

  Hans picks me up and carries me over to the bed, kicking and swearing and screaming. It means nothing to him, or to any of the rest of them. He pushes me down on the bedding and pins me in place. Ice turns my head away from the arm where the implant is, his hand on the back of my neck, fingers digging into either side of my spine to keep me in place.

  On the other side, Maverick holds my arm down. All four of them are conspiring to keep me locked in place to the extent that I can’t move an inch. My whimpering whines make no difference.

  So much of the time I feel as though I am the equal of these men. I walk with them, by their sides, and I am loved and protected by them. But right now I am being reminded how they really think of me. I am not their equal. I am their possession. I am a female to be owned and dominated. One who must obey.

  “Please, no…” I start to beg. “Don’t take it out… don’t…”

  I feel Stryker’s fingers on my arm. He’s being gentle, but I don’t care. There’s nothing truly gentle about this. They don’t even understand what they’re taking from me. They want me to be fertile. That’s it.

  “I fucking hate you all,” I snarl as the steel touches my skin.

  “Keep her still,” Stryker says. His voice is calm now, methodical. My emotional turmoil doesn’t touch him.

  I growl and squeal as he makes a swift, shallow incision in my arm and plucks the little shaft out of my flesh. I can’t see it, but I can feel the burn of the cut and I know he has the implant.

  “There we go,” he says, his tone soothing. “Now I’ll clean that wound. It might sting a little.”

  As if it matters. My ass is throbbing anyway. A little sting in my arm as the sterile alcohol bathes the little wound he’s made hardly registers. I feel the sticking plaster of a bandage being applied. It’s over.

  “Okay, you can let her up.”

  The large male hands recede from my body. As soon as I feel them retract, I leap up from the bed and run for the door.

  Ice catches me before I can escape the room and tosses me back onto the bed, pinning me face down again.

  “You’ve angered the bear,” he says as he holds me in place, his strong hand keeping me easily in place. “Her rage is not going to be easily calmed.”

  “I hate every single one of you,” I growl. There’s no way to get up. Ice can pin me easily, he weighs more than twice as much and his body is sinew and muscle and bone, where mine is soft curves and still weak flesh. As much as I struggle, I am stuck beneath him.

  Ice chuckles. “You see?”

  “She will calm down in time,” Maverick says. “That last piece of the city needed to be removed. She will not truly be ours until after her first moon blood.”

  They are speaking about me as if I’m not even there. And maybe I’m not. They don’t care about what I want, or what I think. They order me about and take me as they please. They are keeping me from returning to the city, even though I asked so many times to be taken back. I had begun to accept my place here, but this changes everything.

  Now I have to get back to the city. If they do take the implant out, I’ve probably got a few days before my body starts a new period. But if I can get back to the city, I can get a new implant and save myself the pain and the blood that I know is coming.

  Ice is smarter than Maverick. He crouches over me, one of his knees on each side of my body, his hand firmly placed on the back of my neck. He’s not trying to be calming or gentle or kind. He’s just keeping me from running out the door and nothing more.

  The rest of the men settle back into their positions. Hans sits across from the bed. Stryker goes and messes with his medical equipment. The whole mood in the house has shifted. I’m not happy at all. That doesn’t bother Ice. He’s never cared what mood I’m in, but Hans and Stryker are a little more sensitive to my feelings. Maverick leaves the house entirely, stepping out onto the deck. From my awkwardly placed position, I can see his back through the window.

  I watch as Stryker drops the implant into his medical kit. That gives me an idea. Maybe I can get that one back inside myself somehow? A little slit in my other arm or somewhere else and I could maybe push it back in. It will probably hurt, but not as much as a period does, I bet.

  “Can I let you up? Or are you going to keep rampaging, little bear?”

  “You can let me up,” I say, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. I’m not going to run or fight right now. There’s no point in doing either of those things. I can’t beat these men by force. I have to use stealth and deception.

  Ice clambers off my back and releases my neck. The loss of his grip leaves me feeling a little bereft. I don’t know why, but whenever he does that to me, there’s some part of me that likes it. It feels safe, like nothing in the world can get to me.

  Unfortunately, the only people in the world I need to worry about getting to me already have.

  I sit up and rearrange my clothes. I’m a mess, and it’s all their fault.

  “There is a way to stop periods that doesn’t involve an implant.”

  “What?”

  “Periods stop for nine months when you’re pregnant.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Stryker scowls at me. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” I scowl right back at him.

  “Young lady, you are about to get your butt whipped again,” Stryker snaps at me. “I am about tired
of your attitude.”

  I am tired of his attitude too. I am tired of being owned, of being treated like barely sentient meat. I am tired of it all, but what can I do but accept my fate? They have taken the implant from me, and I am no longer protected against their seed.

  Chapter Ten

  Three days later…

  Stryker locked his medical kit away in the rusty old safe and I haven’t been able to get to the implant. I also haven’t been able to run away back to the city. My savages have been keeping watch on me around the clock, as if they suspect I’m up to something. They’re right. I hate the way they seem to be able to read my mind and anticipate what I’m going to do before I do it.

  I am beginning to feel pain, the once familiar ache low in my belly that I know will turn into a torment I will be forced to endure. It makes me angry. Anger is an easy emotion to feel now that they have unleashed my body’s natural responses.

  “Her temper is even worse now,” Ice notes as I prowl around, growling like the bear whose spirit I must have absorbed. What I wouldn’t give right now for a mouth full of sharp canines, and fingers with long claws. They would be in real trouble then, these savage hunters who have stripped the last vestige of civilization from me.

  “Her natural hormones will be asserting themselves,” Stryker says. “Those implants suppress a lot of things. She will be moody for a while.”

  “Also, you ripped me open and pulled things out of me!”

  I shout the words, not caring who hears me, not caring what they do to me.

  “Stop yelling. Now,” Ice snarls. I didn’t even see him move, but suddenly he’s in my face, his nose inches from mine, those silver eyes boring into my gaze with an intensity I can barely stand. “I will gag you if you raise your voice again.”

  “Go to hell!”

  I scream the words at the top of my lungs. I know it’s a bad idea. I know I should be more careful. I know he’s going to hurt me for doing it, but I don’t care. I need to scream. I need him to know that I don’t fear him.

  His retribution is immediate. He was prepared. I didn’t notice, but he had a braided cord in his hand the whole time, and as I scream he shoves it in. Leather fills my mouth, bitter tasting and rough against my lips and tongue.