by Jenika Snow
He was surprised she was forward with her questions, even if she was on Posh.
He removed his hands from her knee, clenched them into fists at his side, and tried to keep his composure. “I don’t take females against their will.”
“But you did.” There was a pause. “You took me from the only home I’ve known, the only family I’ve ever had.”
He felt this strange twinge deep inside of him, this need to explain he wasn’t this monster. But that would be a lie, because he was a monster, and he had taken her for himself.
“You have no family anymore. They’ve been taken to the labor facility, and the few fertile females have been placed in the breeder compound.”
She pushed herself up a bit, but that seemed hard for her. “What about my friend, the man trying to get me out of there?”
He clenched his jaw. “What relation is he to you?”
She closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead, and exhaled, resting back against the wall again. “What difference does anything make anymore?”
He didn’t respond, just watched as her resistance left, her strength fading, and he knew this woman, drugged or not, wouldn’t fight him. She’d lost her hope, which was clear to him. He sensed it, smelled it come from her in waves of sadness, and knew that his people had done this to her.
“What is your age, female? Your name?”
She dropped her hand to her lap and blinked a few times, maybe trying to clear her head. “I think twenty-one, although I don’t know for sure as I’ve been hiding, from your kind, since I was born.” She looked at him, maybe hesitant to answer the rest. “God, what does it even matter?” she said to herself. “My name is Greta.”
He wasn’t going to argue with her on the politics of it all. Decades had passed, and he couldn’t control what happened in the past. But she was young, so much younger than he was. At twenty-one she was a mere child compared to him and his species.
“Sleep, female,” he said, and watched as she closed her eyes, the Posh too strong for her to fight anymore. He left her in the guest pod and went into the living area. Sitting down on the bench, he breathed out and scrubbed a hand over his face. She’d sleep for the next few hours at least, and then he’d have to deal with explaining he had no intentions of letting her go, and that if she were breeding with anyone it would only be him.
5
“What are you planning on doing with her, Tolcan?” Stellan asked, this concentration and almost … worry on his face. They were at his pod, Stellan having shown up after he clearly heard the news Tolcan had put in a request to keep the female as a concubine, because wanting her, requesting her as a mate, was forbidden.
“What does it look like?” he said, angry that one of his warriors was questioning him. But Stellan wasn’t just under Tolcan’s command, but also a male he’d known since he was a boy. They’d been together when they landed on Earth, fought side-by-side, and had watched over the other. This was his friend, and it was clear Stellan was confused, too, about why Tolcan was suddenly taking on a female for his own when he’d never shown interest before.
Greta had been sleeping for the last three hours, and like a male infatuated with the female he’d gone in and checked on her several times. But this obsession he had, springing up from the moment he’d taken her to his pod, wasn’t going to lessen. He knew that, knew himself well enough to understand when something like this had his attention it wouldn’t go away.
War, fighting, defending his kind, those all had attention in him, concentration, obsession. Greta was the same way. It was instant, consuming, and he wasn’t going to ignore it even if he’d told himself he would.
“It looks like you’re taking on a human female as a concubine? A wife? A mate? What, Tolcan?”
Tolcan stared at Stellan, looked at the male’s arms, and stared at those black lines covering his flesh. He didn’t have as many as Tolcan, but unless a warrior had the highest Enforcer status, their black stripes of pride, or war and death, defending his people, didn’t cover them from wrist to shoulder. “I want her, and that’s all there is to it. What I choose to do with her is my business.” He stood, done with this conversation. Greta would be waking soon, and he had enough shit to deal with when she fully realized after sleeping, eating, and the drug wearing off that she was his irrevocably.
Stellan nodded, a sharp, almost angry tilt of his head. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I can see, can tell, that she means something to you, and I don’t understand why. But I do know I’ve never seen you care about a woman for more than a couple of hours, not Rogue or human.” Stellan looked at him for a long moment. “Be careful, Tolcan. If you want her as more than a female to fuck, then you’re screwed.” He walked toward the front doors. “You know the Royal council would never let you take a human as a mate, not even if you’re one of their highest Enforcers, Tolcan.” Then Stellan left, the doors sliding into the wall before closing once more.
Tolcan stood there, his anger seething that one of his soldiers called it out like that. Told him exactly what had been playing in his mind. He turned and went into the guest bedroom, knowing he shouldn’t be seeing her, speaking to her when he was in this volatile mood.
When he stepped inside he saw she was already awake, sitting in the corner of the bed, the blankets wrapped around her. He didn’t speak and neither did she, but he scented her fear, her wariness, and the need to escape. She could try, but there was no way she could leave his home without him.
There were safeguards in place, codes on the doors and windows. He didn’t want a prisoner, but a willing submissive, a female that wanted to be here for him, with him. He could see that making Greta understand being with him was better than the alternative was going to be one of the toughest missions he’d even done.
“I know you must want to bathe. Come,” he said, and when she didn’t move he clenched his jaw. “You’re here, which believe me when I say is better than where you could be, Greta.” She still had yet to move, and he breathed out, controlling his anger. He was used to getting what he wanted at all times. Anyone that thought to deny him, go against him, was dealt with swiftly.
But Greta wasn’t of his kind, and had lived her life fearing the Rogues, seeing them as monsters. She didn’t know his power, his status within the Rogue nation, and because of that he needed to remind himself that he’d need to go slow and gentle with her, that she wouldn’t be ready, wouldn’t be able to handle the type of sex he usually had, especially not for her first time.
“Female, if I wanted to hurt you I could have done so a hundred times over by now.” He let that sink in, and when she started to move off the bed he took a step back, giving her space. He wasn’t used to acting like this, catering to someone, but he needed to learn, just like she’d learn she was his.
6
Greta followed the large Rogue into the bathing chamber. She’d looked around his home, at how it was gorgeous yet sparse. She’d never seen any of the things he had in his home, but then again aside from the trinkets, and even the rare photograph she’d seen when coming into contact with smaller camps of humans, she’d only known caves and primitive living.
She worried about Jayce, worried about what was happening and where he was. Did he even survive? He was young and strong, and she knew that if he did survive he was most likely in the labor camps, or, God forbid, a male concubine for a Rogue female.
Yes, she’d heard the female alien species often took human males as sexual playthings, and that sickened her, just like her current situation had her whole body tensing with wariness and disgust.
When they entered the bathing chamber she stopped and held the blanket more firmly around her. It was a large room, far bigger than the largest cave she’d stayed in. but then again this male was seven feet tall and so muscular. He’d need a huge space.
He walked over to the basin, turned it on, and she stared transfixed at the clean water coming out of the metal spout. Her bathing over the last twenty-one years had been
in lakes, creeks, or when water had been brought to her camp and heated over a fire.
She’d never had anything like this before, and she couldn’t deny that it was so very tempting. But as she looked at the male that called himself Tolcan, and told her she wasn’t leaving, she knew being grateful for anything he gave her would only have her falling more under his control.
“You’ll bathe, put on the attire laid out before you, and when you’re finished you’ll come to the living quarters.” He stared at her, his big, imposing frame seeming to make the bathroom small, suffocating. But he didn’t move right away, just stood there, waiting, watching. Did he expect her to undress in front of him?
He’d already taken her shoes off when he’d brought her here, and who knew what else he’d done while she’d been passed out. But on that thought she knew he was right. If he’d wanted to hurt her he could have. Instead he was feeding her, letting her stay in a comfortable room, and letting her bathe in his home. He said she was his, and although she could assume that that meant exactly what he said, she also had to wonder what all that entailed.
She certainly didn’t want to upset him, so she grabbed the edge of the shift she wore, lifted it up and over her head, and let it fall to the floor. For a second all he did was stand there, his face a mask of indifference as he gazed at her nakedness, and she felt this embarrassment, shame, awkwardness that he didn’t seem affected, or that she even cared what he felt.
He walked toward her and her heart pounded harder, but before he touched her, took her, forced her hand, like she assumed, he moved past her and turned the water off. She turned and looked at him, covering her breasts and between her thighs with her arm and hand, and felt so foolish. But why did she care? Why didn’t she feel anything but disgust right now?
“Take your time.” He turned and walked toward the door, but stopped right before he left. “And escaping is futile.” Tolcan looked over his shoulder at her. “And even if by some miracle you found a way out, I’d find you, Greta.”
The way he said her name had a chill racing up her body. He turned back around and left her alone. The door slid shut, becoming opaque so she had a semblance of privacy.
Turning back toward the basin of water, she smelled the sweet scent coming from it, and saw the steam rise up from the water. It looked like heaven, and although she wanted to bask in this moment for a second, she instantly felt guilt. The other humans from her camp were probably dealing with a fate much worse than hers.
Greta stared at the water for another moment, turned and looked at the door, and wondered how she was going to get out of here. It was clear he wouldn’t let her go, and until she knew what she would do she would need to be smart. He said there was no escape for her, but did mention if she did find a way out he’d be able to find her. Did that mean there was a chance? But even if she escaped she didn’t know where to go.
She didn’t even know where she was exactly. For all Greta knew she was in a compound already, one that held the housing units for the Rogues. Escaping might only end up having her land right in the middle of a group of Rogues. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to her.
She moved toward the tub and stepped in, and as soon as she was engulfed from the neck down with the hot, sweet smelling water, a moan left her. She’d never felt anything as glorious as being weightless in liquid, or the peace and pleasure coursing through her. Opening her eyes and staring at the bath supplies on the ledge, she picked up a rock that was light, had holes through it, and brought it to her nose.
It smelled fresh, clean, and when she dropped it in the water it floated. She had no idea what it was used for, or many of the other items here, but she’d figure it out. The last thing she wanted to do was go against what Tolcan said just to be stubborn. His wrath was not something she wanted to see or tempt.
For the next twenty or so minutes she soaked in the tub, washed her hair with this gel type substance that smelled of the pine trees in the woods, and used this foam substance on her body that smelled of the wildflowers she’d so often picked. She had no hair on her arms, underarms, or even her legs. She didn’t know why as the other human females she’d seen during her time all had hair covering those parts.
Greta supposed it had something to do with her genetics on her parents’ side, but she didn’t remember much about them, and had no way of asking. She smoothed the foam along her legs and arms, and cleaned the rest of her body. She’d never felt this clean, not even after she’d bathed in the creek.
Once out and dried, she grabbed the clothing Tolcan set out for her. They were dark, loose fitting, and were in two pieces. Did all humans have to wear these? The dark colored top was long sleeved, but the collar was cut in a V shape, almost going obscenely down to her navel, with only a small string connecting the top to the corners so it didn’t gape open. The pants went to her ankles, and a drawstring kept them up. At least she was covered and not expected to wear something lewd, or nothing at all.
When she stepped toward the mirror she got a look at herself for the first time in years. There had been a few cracked and aged mirrors passed around the camps, but she’d never been interested in looking at herself. For some reason when she had, all she saw was a woman trying to run from something that would never stop chasing.
Her hair was dark and long, tangled even more from the bath. She looked around, found a comb, and started moving it through her hair. She’d had small necessities while in hiding, but they weren’t a priority. Brushing her hair and bathing hadn’t been the most important thing for her kind trying to stay away from the Rogues. They’d figured out long ago that the Rogues used heat sensors to find out where they were. At first they could go deep enough into caves that the sensors couldn’t detect them. But the Rogues soon picked up on what they were doing and advanced their technology.
Over the last twenty years the Rogues had slowly changed their technology for finding humans. The humans had even started finding minerals that blocked out the heat signal sent from their bodies and that was able to be tracked by the Rogues. Of course the minerals hadn’t saved them this last time. They hadn’t been in that cave for a full day, not even enough time to find the right minerals for everyone before they were found.
Breathing out and setting the comb back down, she braced her hands on the stainless steel basin and stared at her reflection. She was skinny, her cheeks slightly hollowed, but then again not having a substantial diet of protein would do that. They mainly lived on the few fish they could catch close to where they were staying, berries, and even some flora that was edible. But living a hard life and on the run was not so bad because she was alive, and with people that she cared for.
Or at least she had been with people she cared for.
Staring at her eyes, the one blue and one green, she’d always had others point out the uniqueness with them, some even warning her that if the Rogues ever got her they might use the anomaly of dual eye colors for their experimenting. Although she’d never heard of Rogues experimenting on humans, not during her lifetime, she was still wary of standing out, and being noticed.
God, where had Jayce gone? She knew he hadn’t escaped because she’d watched him get shot with the stun gun, and once that happened it was lights out. She had now experienced that firsthand. Smoothing a finger over the splattering of light freckles over her cheekbones, she wished she’d done things differently, wished she’d been able to hold onto Jayce a little longer. She may not have been in love with him, and have only seen him as a friend, but she’d loved him with all her heart. He was a good man, a strong and protective one, and now she knew she’d never see him again.
Closing her eyes and breathing heavily, she told herself she needed to be strong. Escaping might be the brave thing to do, but it was also the stupidest. Until she saw what the outside even looked like, and if there was even a chance she could escape, she needed to stay alive. That was her ultimate goal. Dying at the hands of the Rogues wasn’t going to be in her future.
She promised herself that.
7
She’d been in the bathing chamber for far longer than he liked, and although Tolcan had told her to take her time, he wanted her near him. It was illogical for him to desire a female like this, so strongly, so intensely that he was acting out of character.
Maybe he was so aroused for her he just wanted between her thighs, sampling that pussy he knew would be better than anything he’d ever had? No, he knew that wasn’t even the truth, even if it passed through his mind.
This wasn’t about sex, not even the interspecies sexual activity, seen by some Rogues as taboo. Although that was ridiculous seeing as the majority of his species practiced sex with humans, kept them as concubines, and they used humans to help propagate their kind. But Tolcan supposed there were always the fanatics within any species.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he brought the alcohol to his mouth and took a long pull from the glass. The alcohol was aged one hundred and fifty years, came from his home planet, and helped a Rogue relax when the Posh didn’t help. In this instance the Posh was really not helping.
He’d taken temporary control and possession of Greta, the Royals giving him a short time to decide if this was what he wanted, to take this human as a concubine. There was no other option for him, in regards to claiming her, so having her as a “concubine” was the only title he was allowed to give Greta.
But Tolcan knew this wasn’t about owning her, not in the sense that his kind owned and controlled humans. Oh, he wanted to own her, but not as a possession. No, Tolcan’s sexual desires had always leaned down the sadistic route, had always been about dominance over the female, no matter what species she was. Greta seemed vulnerable, innocent, and he doubted she even knew much about the kind of sexual appetites his kind harbored, or could handle what he wanted to do with her. Tolcan’s desire ran a little deeper, a little darker.