by Alana Serra
It was a risky play. He could just kill her, since she was of absolutely no use to him. But she refused to be anyone else’s pawn. If the Karuvar didn’t believe her, if there was no chance she was going to be respected and given her independence back, then she wasn’t going to give them anything they wanted.
“We’ll see,” was Rhavos’ answer, his jaw squared even harder than normal.
She didn’t flinch when he approached. Despite that dangerous tone, she still didn’t fear him for some insane reason. And he didn’t try to touch her. He just took the tray back, leaving only the cup of what she guessed was broth behind as he left the room.
Pride fought with hunger, but the moment he closed the door, she lifted the broth to her lips and drank until there was nothing left.
Rhavos would be back, and the next time, she didn’t think he’d give up so easily. She’d need her strength if she was going to deal with him and try to find a way out of here.
6
In the end, the human female was right. Rhavos was wasting his time, and he had no one to blame but himself.
The rebel humans had fled like the cowards they were, and as the only hostage, this female was the key to gaining enough information to eradicate the Freedom Fighters once and for all. It made good tactical sense to learn whatever he could from her. Despite the fact that they were facing humans, any species could be overwhelming in large enough numbers, and he would not send his men into a massacre.
Normally, Rhavos enlisted the help of one of his more charismatic soldiers to coax details out of a prisoner. If there was no other way, he would lean on those who could provide suitable intimidation techniques. Neither of those things were Rhavos' specialty, and there was no argument that he should not be the one in charge of this particular task.
But he could not bring himself to let anyone else speak to the female. At this point, he was even bringing her meals like a common servant. It was ridiculous, but such was the power of whatever thrall he was under. A thrall he still refused to believe was his true mating instinct.
In Rhavos' mind, there was every chance this human had engineered this response herself as a way to make him look weak and promote mutiny within his ranks. If humans were somehow capable of altering implant code, then surely they'd figured out how to manipulate the mating response, too.
Those thoughts colored his interactions with her. It was hard not to approach the situation believing she had set out to trick him, and the overwhelming instincts that warred with those thoughts were merely a carefully crafted ruse. He had to be strong and see this through. He had to show her she did not affect him.
But he also had to change tactics, because the direct approach was not working, and every hour she sat in that room—uncooperative and unwilling to talk—was another hour Rhavos had nothing to present to Drol'gan. Another hour of being outplayed by the humans.
So in the morning, at an hour when most of Waystation Helios was silent, Rhavos approached the room with a new set of tactics. He would avoid anything that would allow her to say she was an innocent in this, and in doing so, he would trap her into giving him the proof that she knew exactly what she was doing.
Shifting the tray of food he'd been given to his left arm, Rhavos knocked on the door.
"Are you awake?" he asked.
His ears twitched, picking up the sound of fabric rustling. "Would it matter?"
Rhavos used the key he had been given and opened the door. "No," he said, setting the tray down on a table.
She was seated on the edge of the bed, much as she had been the last time they'd interacted. But there was something different about her.
Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was tousled, and it seemed a great effort for her to look him in the eye. She did not fear him, not in the way she should. So what, then?
His mind seized on a memory from his days as a warrior. He'd shared a cabin with three other Karuvar warriors, all young as he was, all eager to find their mates. It had never been as exciting for Rhavos. His training to become Conqueror had always come before anything else. But there had been a few key things that stood out to him on lonely nights.
One of his fellow warriors said that when mates met, the rush of hormones was so strong that they could only think about claiming and being claimed. If they were forced to spend a night apart—if they could sleep through the incessant demands of their body—they would have the most explicit dreams they'd ever had in their life. Dreams so explicit they could almost feel, smell, and taste their mate.
As Rhavos looked upon this human, he couldn't help but wonder if she had been subjected to such dreams. For a few agonizing moments, he wished he'd allowed himself to sleep, too, so that he might join her.
What had she dreamed of? His hands, lifting her effortlessly into the air? His tongue tracing every inch of her, learning what made her lose control? His cock sliding into her wet, inviting cunt? Did she imagine him taking her with a fierceness that would make her whole body shake, or did she fantasize about taming him, coaxing him into slow, deep strokes as she squeezed around him?
Rhavos bit back a groan, but the evidence of his own fantasies was impossible to ignore. He shifted and adjusted his stiff cock, but her gaze had already fallen to his groin, and desire flared anew in him.
"If that's what you're here for, you might as well turn right back around, pendejo."
Her voice shook when she said the words. Her pupils were dilated, and the tip of her tongue ran over her lips. She wanted him. He knew this as easily as he knew he could not have her. This was all part of a trap, whether it was planned by this female or not. He had little sympathy over the fact that she was suffering from it, also, and he certainly wasn't going to alleviate that suffering.
"I am here to talk," he said tersely.
The female eyed him for a moment longer before her shoulders lifted in supposed indifference. "Then talk."
She had the attitude of an undisciplined youngling, and with his previous thoughts, it was difficult not to imagine her submitting to him, gladly, again and again. Rhavos growled and shook the thoughts away, forcing himself to follow his plan.
"What are you called? What is your name?" he asked.
The female blinked at him. "And here I thought you'd figured out my name and just weren't using it as some kind of power trip."
"Power trip?"
Her gaze narrowed and she stared him down as though he were not three times larger than her. "Taking away my identity, my sense of self. Reducing me to just another object you can manipulate as you see fit."
It was Rhavos' turn to regard her with a skeptical eye. "You speak of war tactics. How do you know of these things? Do you have access to Karuvar records?"
"I had access to a college library," she said, her attention straying to the tray of food. "I know about the 'starve them until they're delirious and desperate' method, too, and it won't work. I've been without food for much longer than your patience will last."
Rhavos' lips turned up in a small smirk. "Patience is not my area of expertise," he admitted, picking up the tray and carrying it over to her.
He set it beside her on the bed, then took a seat in a human-sized chair, ignoring his discomfort.
"I am not starving you, and I am not denying you a name. I simply do not know it."
She eyed the tray dubiously before picking up a spongy yellow cake and taking a bite of it. Her eyes closed and a sound fell from her lips that sent an electric shock through Rhavos' body.
"My name is Ren," she finally said, and he watched intently as her tongue collected a stray crumb at the corner of her mouth.
"Rhin," he said, imagining the name as a Karuvar would use it. "You have a simple name. The other humans I have met do not."
She dipped her spoon into what looked like a thick porridge before answering. "You asked for my name, not my full legal name as it's written on my birth certificate." After a moment, she added, "Ren is short for Renee."
"I see." He watched her f
or another long moment, then realized he should offer the same. It was what a negotiator would do. "I am called Rhavos."
"So I've heard," she said. "Conqueror Rhavos."
Rhavos' nostrils flared, his tail lashing once behind him. The way she said his title was utterly infuriating. It seemed an amusing thing to her, not worthy of her respect.
And yet… that lack of reverence made him curious. Everyone he had ever dealt with knew exactly what a Conqueror was and what he did.
The way Rhin viewed him felt completely foreign.
"You do not respect the title," he said, his tone even despite the question in his mind.
"I can't say I have much respect for tyrants, no."
Rhavos snorted. "You think I am a tyrant?"
"You conquer people. It's in your title. Your name isn't Let's-Sit-And-Talk-About-This-Like-Equals Rhavos."
His lips twitched at that.
"So yes, you're a tyrant," she concluded, taking another spoonful of her meal.
"I am not conquering you. We are having a conversation," he pointed out.
Why did it matter? What did he care if some human female saw him as a tyrant? She knew nothing of Karuvar honor; she would never understand it. So why should he care?
"A conversation where you have all the power. We're not equals. I'm your prisoner. You can walk away from this whenever you want, and I can't. So yeah, you're still a tyrant, Conqueror."
A growl rumbled in the back of his throat. She was a contentious female, and for no reason that he could discern. He was treating her with more civility than she deserved. She had no idea the lengths he could go to if he wanted to be cruel.
The fact that he would not, was completely lost on her.
"Ask your questions," she prompted. "I'll answer what I can. Consider it a fair trade for the meal."
Rhavos stared at the female. She was setting the terms of their interactions now? When had that happened?
"Why did you join the Freedom Fighters?" he asked, gritting his teeth and biting back his pride in favor of completing the mission.
"I didn't," she said, and Rhavos' jaw clenched. "Not voluntarily."
"So you keep saying."
"I've thought about it, though. If given the choice, I might have." She popped a small slice of fruit in her mouth, confessing her willingness to join a terrorist organization as if it was nothing.
"Why?"
This was it. This was the route by which he would trap her. He only had to persist.
"Because they were trying to help humans regain their independence—to make us less reliant on the Karuvar."
His gaze narrowed. Ungrateful humans. If Drol'gan had just let him handle this situation to begin with, these Freedom Fighters would not exist.
"You were living underground before we came. Our Pathfinder is the only reason your generation is able to exist."
She stopped eating then and looked him in the eyes. "So that makes us beholden to you for the rest of our days?"
"In an ideal world in which your kind respects the Karuvar, yes," he said.
She laughed at him—actually laughed—and Rhavos could feel his temper flaring.
"You think it's disrespectful of us to want some say in our lives?"
"You humans have far more freedom than any other species we have encountered," he shot back.
"For now, yes. And I do respect the fact that your Pathfinder seems to want a peaceful relationship that benefits both sides. But all that could vanish with one command. Your genes have already changed who we are as a species. We will die without your implants. You could hold our lives hostage. You could make us do whatever you wanted, and we wouldn't be able to resist because the Karuvar hold all the power."
"You are speaking in irrelevant hypotheticals," he said with a growl. "Your people are not subject to any of these realities."
She stood from the bed and approached him, her hands balled into fists. For a moment he thought she might attack him, as absurd as that would be. But she just stood before him, shaking somewhat, yet staying her ground.
“Tell me about this… mate… thing,” she said, squaring her jaw.
It was such an abrupt change in subject that Rhavos could only blink at her. “What?”
“You said humans are tricking Karuvar into thinking they’re mates. What does that mean?”
Anger built within him, churning into a fire. She was trying to play him. Acting ignorant so that she could ensnare him before he had the chance to get information from her.
He should call someone else in and make them deal with her. But it was a point of pride now, and Rhavos tried to think of what his best negotiator would do.
“To you humans? Nothing. But to Karuvar, a mate is a bonded partner. Someone who matches perfectly with them in every way. It is a sacred thing, and humans have spoiled it.”
“How?” she asked. His jaw clenched, but she continued to stare him down. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. If you want me to understand, you have to actually tell me.”
There was just enough bold conviction in her words that for a moment, Rhavos’ own beliefs faltered. Was it possible she truly didn’t know? Yes. Anything was possible. But he had learned long ago to expect the worst from his enemy, lest he leave himself open to attack.
“When two mates are near each other, they can sense it. Their implants react, and they do not allow either of them to rest until they have mated.” He watched her rub at the arm that housed her implant, a slight frown on her lips.
“React in what way?” she asked.
“Mates feel physically drawn to one another. Aroused when they are in one another’s presence.” Rhavos’ heart began to pound and a flush of heat made its way through his body. She was so close, and his implant was demonstrating its insistent power even now. “They can think only of mating and securing that bond. Even when they sleep, those thoughts persist.”
She drew in a sharp breath and looked away. So she had dreamed of him. A pleased rumble threatened to vibrate through him, but he forced it down. There was nothing pleasing about this. Not when his body and his mind were being manipulated.
“Karuvar are meant to mate with other Karuvar, but now there are Karuvar mating with humans. It is obvious your kind have found ways to tamper with the implants—it has been proven.”
“So you’re feeling these responses against your will,” she said quietly. “You have no choice.”
“Yes,” he breathed.
Even now, he ached to touch her. To draw her onto his lap and claim her mouth with his. Would she taste sweet? No. Nothing about her had been sweet. There would be spice to her; something that bit back.
“Then you know exactly what it’s like to feel as I do. To feel powerless.”
Bright brown eyes stared at him, a challenge within them. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she stood before him as if she was completely resistant to the pull that Rhavos felt. That, ultimately, was what goaded him. That was what made him release the growl that rumbled in his throat.
“You hold no power over me, regardless of what my implant believes,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He pushed himself up from the chair, and still she did not back away. “And I can prove it.”
He would call her bluff. He would make her regret ever having chosen him as her target. And he would banish these desires from his mind, all with one swift action.
Rhavos reached for her, his hand threading through her dark hair, so much softer than he imagined it would be. His other hand moved to her waist and he pulled her to him, her body warm and yielding against his, but only for a moment.
She tensed, and he knew she would push him away. She would resist him because she was not truly his mate, and because despite what she believed, she had a choice. They both did.
But she did not part from him. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. He could feel the heat coming off her, could feel his cock growing stiff in response as
her body pressed to his. He was caught, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to claim her mouth with his own, but he did not. He chose to defy this supposed bond, despite how painful it was to do so.
Again he expected her to withdraw from him. The altered implant was weaving its spell, but with how fervently she spoke of independence, she would break free from it.
Yet she did not withdraw. As quickly as he had brought her to him, she reached up, her small hands gripping his horns. Lust shot through Rhavos, a growl rumbling in his chest, and when she used this newfound leverage to pull him down to her, he could resist no longer.
His mouth crashed down upon hers, hard and demanding. She did not rebuke him. Not in the slightest. Her grip tightened and she opened for him, her lips parting. Rhavos thrust his tongue into her mouth, his whole body wracked with pleasure as she moaned in response.
He felt her thigh touch his and his hand moved to support her, helping her lift up against him. He held her effortlessly, his lips and teeth and tongue still warring with hers, taking and giving in equal amount as she began to rock against him. Needy whimpers escaped her as she rubbed her body against the hard ridge of his cock, infuriating layers of cloth separating them.
Rhavos groaned, so close to just grabbing that fabric and tearing. Anything so he could bury himself inside of her; claim her and fill her and keep her as his.
But as achingly tempting as that thought was, it also brought him a startling amount of clarity: He’d given in. He had no choice. In that moment, he was powerless to resist.
Rhavos pulled back, lingering just long enough to set her back on the ground where she wavered on shaky legs, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. He was panting, and every muscle in his body burned with the aching desire to close that distance once more.
But he resisted.
“I have a choice,” he insisted. “We both have a choice.”
Even as he stalked out of the room, he couldn’t convince himself it was true.
7
Ren had come into this shitty situation with something resembling a plan.