Claiming His Human (Rogues)

by Jenika Snow

  The metallic flavor of her blood coated his tongue, but he let his saliva seep into her bloodstream. His scent moved through her body, and he felt intense pleasure all over again that she was his fully.

  She breathed heavily, her body coated in a light sheen of sweat.

  He pulled out of her with a disappointed exhale and lay beside her. He immediately pulled her into his arms. She wasn’t asleep, but he felt her exhaustion as if it were his own. He already couldn’t get enough, and knew he never would either.

  Pulling her closer, he wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and for the first time in his life felt content and complete. He hadn’t known that claiming Greta would cause the wall that had been around him to break apart … but only for her. He hadn’t realized that this was the feeling that would be inside of him when he found his mate.

  She curled her hand around his bicep. What a strange and wondrous thing to care about someone, especially the species that he’d been trained to hate and destroy. She was perfect, and all his. Nothing and no one would change that.

  20

  Greta was nervous, frightened, but hoped things worked out the way they planned. Of course the plan hadn’t been anything but Tolcan contacting the Royals from his pod. She’d stayed hidden, but she’d heard them regardless. Hearing Tolcan risk everything for her, for what she desperately needed to happen, made her feel this softness toward him.

  Yes, they had sex, her first time even, and the fact that she wore his mark, his brand he’d called it, made her feel like she belonged. It was strange thinking of it like that, thinking that she was marked by her enemy species, but she couldn’t help but feel that. She also found herself touching the twin marks on her neck, running her fingers along the redness that wouldn’t go away from around the puncture marks, and knew this signified something very great with the Rogues.

  She knew humans shouldn’t have any kind of marking like this one on them, because Rogues and humans mating was forbidden.

  They now stood in a large arena, Tolcan in the center, and the one named Redon, the Rogue who owned Jayce, standing a few feet away. She knew Redon wasn’t fighting, because apparently on Earth the Rogues had changed their traditional rules.

  Now, with the Royals changing the rules, a Rogue that was challenged in a Dukka could hire a much stronger, fiercer fighter, and that was what Redon had done. The male that stepped forward to fight Tolcan was just as big as Tolcan, but didn’t have the bands of being an Enforcer.

  She scanned the crowd, looked over to where Redon was standing, and her heart raced when she saw Jayce amongst the slaves shackled together. He watched her, this comforting smile on his face, and she knew he was trying to help her not be afraid. Did he really know what was happening? Did he know Tolcan was helping her, that he was risking everything to save Jayce because she asked? What would he think when he knew Tolcan and she were together, that she cared for the Rogue, wanted him as her own, and had slept with him?

  Did she even care what anyone thought, even Jayce? No, she didn’t, because this felt right. She loved Jayce like a brother, but she hoped he saw she was happy and that Tolcan wasn’t like the other males out there trying to extinguish their kind. At least he wasn’t anymore.

  “This Dukka was challenged by Enforcer Tolcan. Redon, the challenged, has decided to use Earth rules and acquire his champion for the Enforcer. Taking Redon’s place is Wayward the Undefeated.”

  God, that didn’t sound good. Although she knew how powerful Tolcan was, she also could see the hatred on Wayward’s face, saw the scars lining his chest, and even the old, dried blood on the leather pants he wore. Did he wear the same clothing when he was fighting? Was it a ritual for him? Greta found it disturbing in every sense of the word.

  The crowd was gathered in seats all around them, raised high so they were looking down. There was a large electronic screen in the center of the two rows, and a group of Rogues dressed in jewels and strange clothing were on the screen watching.

  Those must be the Royals.

  Tolcan had wanted her to stay at the pod, demanded it even, but she’d told him Jayce was her family. She was also Tolcan’s mate, and she wanted to be there for both of them, to see this through. Now she stood amongst other Rogues and their slaves, and having to wear a collared shirt so her marking wasn’t shown. She was worried about that, and feared what would happen if it was seen.

  She glanced away from Tolcan and Jayce, and looked at the Rogue men and women standing just feet from her. Tolcan had told her to wear the standard concubine attire, which was a collared shirt and a long skirt. She was covered from neck to ankle, but the attire signified she was less than the Rogues, higher than the breeding stock, but still not worthy.

  She hated it, hated what it signified, but she also knew the safety aspect of having it on if she really wanted to come out here. She wanted to stay alive, didn’t want to cause trouble, and didn’t want Tolcan to get in trouble because of what they’d both done.

  The looks she got from the Rogues were disgust, hatred, and downright venom. But she knew she wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms, not even if she was a “concubine” for a Rogue.

  She looked around the crowd again, trying to see any other humans that had been with her when she’d been in the cave. But aside from Jayce she didn’t see anyone familiar. The humans that were chained to their so-called masters looked sad, weak, and like they wanted to just end everything.

  Greta couldn’t fault them for feeling like things were over, because they were, in a sense. That was why the humans were fighting so hard to not let the Rogues continue to rule them, and that was why Greta wanted things to change. She saw that change in Tolcan as well, knew that he was seeing things differently. Although she didn’t know how this all came about, or how her emotions for him had changed so dramatically and drastically in such a short time, she had needed to rely on her gut to survive.

  That’s what she was doing now; that’s what she had to do.

  21

  Tolcan was prepared, had been prepared since he knew what he wanted out of his life. He looked at Greta, saw her standing amongst the human slaves and their Rogue owners, and he felt his rage grow. He didn’t want her here, didn’t want her seeing this, or being put in danger, but she was stubborn, strong in her own right, and he knew she had to make sure things went as planned.

  Although fighting Redon would have been easy, too easy in fact, with the Rogues adopting the new laws where a Dukka didn’t have to be fought by the challenger and the challenged, it made for a very interesting fight.

  Tolcan stared at Wayward, a male he knew well, and one that he’d fought beside in war many times.

  This fight was until the death or unless someone surrendered. Tolcan had never surrendered. He knew Wayward had never surrendered either, and so it looked like this would be a bloody fight.

  There were no preamble announcements. There was just a raise of one of the Royals’ hands, and the Dukka commenced. Tolcan swung his sword with a mighty roar, barely missing Wayward. The other Rogue was prepared though, was a skilled fighter, and it didn’t take long before they were sparring with each other.

  They clanged their swords together, dodged the hits, and soon the sweat and dirt covered their bodies. They had advancements in weaponry, but for a Dukka, swords, arrows, even daggers and axes were the only things allowed.

  The crowd was silent, as was normal for a Dukka, as the onlookers watched, waiting to see who would come out victorious. It was about concentration and focus. This was about the fighters, about who would win and who would have shame on them. Tolcan swung out again, his blade slicing into Wayward’s chest. The other Rogue grinned, but there was no amusement in it. He lifted his hand and ran a finger over the cut, smearing the blood.

  Wayward came forward, swung his sword out, and barely missed taking off Tolcan’s arm. They went at it again for another ten minutes, both men bleeding from various cuts on their body, sweat covering them, dirt moving ar
ound them, and the only sound was of their heavy breathing and metal clanging against each other.

  “All of this for a slave?” Wayward said in a voice low enough only Tolcan could hear. He didn’t bother responding, just swung out and cut Wayward in the stomach. The male roared out, came after Tolcan, and the two fell to the ground.

  They grappled, threw punches until blood sprayed out, bones sounded like they broke, and the rage consumed Tolcan. He roared out, tossed Wayward back, and slammed his fist into the other male’s face. A tooth flew out of Wayward’s mouth, and rage covered the Rogue’s expression.

  Tolcan only thought of Greta, only thought of finishing this so she would be happy. He grabbed his sword again when Wayward turned his head and spit out a mouthful of blood.

  “You’re a fucking human lover, and because of that, because you disgrace the very Rogue species, I’ll take great pleasure in killing you.”

  Tolcan gritted his teeth, swung out, and brought the blade of his sword right through Wayward’s belly. The Rogue fell to his knees, looked right at Tolcan, and started gurgling blood. Tolcan moved forward, bent at the knees, and grinned. “I am a human lover, and that ‘slave’ over there is my mate, my female.”

  Wayward narrowed his eyes, but before he could speak Tolcan grabbed a dagger attached at his hip, and brought it across Wayward’s throat. Tolcan felt the hot rush of blood splatter on him as Wayward’s life-force spilled out and covered Tolcan.

  Tolcan slowly stood and looked at the crowd. They were emotionless, yet the humans looked aghast. He looked at Greta, saw her eyes wide, her fear tangible in the air. She took a step forward, thought better of it, and stayed still. A Rogue female saw the motion Greta made and moved toward his mate.

  Her brows knitted, and she moved closer to Greta. Everything next happened in slow motion. The Rogue female pulled Greta toward her, the collar of his mate’s shirt coming down. The Rogue female gasped, pointed to Greta’s neck, and started shouting out.

  “She wears a brand,” she shouted out, grabbed the collar, and tugged the collar down so hard the shirt ripped. The Rogue pointed to the twin marks on her throat, and Greta tried to pull away, but the Rogue held her tighter.

  Everything went faster now, so fast Tolcan now felt as if he were going in slow motion. He moved forward, but guards suddenly swarmed him. He had his sword in hand, and without thinking, just focusing on getting to his female and protecting her, Tolcan started swinging his sword out.

  When the soldiers started going toward Greta, Tolcan roared out, seeing red, needing to be with Greta, to protect her. The crowd went crazy, moving out of the arena, away from the danger. He was in Enforcer mode now, not caring who he took down, because anyone coming toward him was an obstruction in getting to his mate. He heard a scuffle beside him, and saw Jayce trying to fight with Redon.

  Even overweight and older Redon was still stronger than a prime human male, and Jayce was no match. The chain around Jayce’s neck stopped him from struggling much, and Redon kept jerking the chain, twisting Jayce off balance.

  Without thinking, Tolcan brought his sword down, right through the Hulla chain, breaking it in two. “Come on,” he shouted, and tossed a dagger toward Jayce, even if it came down to it and a Rogue caught Jayce, the human would be fucked. At least Jayce was smart, because he took off toward Tolcan, and both of them went over to Greta. Tolcan cut down any soldier coming after them, and knew he was never going to be able to be with his people again.

  He’d killed soldiers, Rogue soldiers, and that was an offense punishable by death. That wasn’t also including he’d mated Greta, and his people would never accept that, not with how they ran their species now.

  They reached Greta, and he sliced his blade through the solider that came forward, intent on taking her from Tolcan. He cut the Rogue down, felt blood splatter over his face, and turned to look behind him. Bodies lined the ground, Rogues, high-ranking Rogues in fact. His death sentence had just been signed, and so had Jayce and Greta’s. They had to run, had to hide, because they’d be hunted, tracked, and killed.

  He had to protect her, because nothing and no one would take this from her. No one would take Greta from him, not unless they were ready to take their last breath.

  22

  They’d been running for so long that Greta’s legs burned fiercely. Her feet ached, and when she stumbled, Tolcan had her in his arms, thrown over his shoulder, and kept running far faster than she could even comprehend. Jayce was behind them, his focus intense, the sword in his hand still at the ready.

  They’d left the arena, didn’t even stop at Tolcan’s pod for fear they’d be waiting for them there, and had set out to go deep within the woods. She had no clue where they were going, and she hated that things had ended this way, that she hadn’t rescued the rest of her family, but she knew she wouldn’t stop until the world was better, and until they were safe.

  “We need to rest and form a plan,” Jayce said from behind them, his breathing labored, but his expression still hard.

  “We need to keep running,” Tolcan said without emotion, and with focus in his voice.

  “I know a place we can hide out for the time being.” Jayce turned off to the side, and it seemed Tolcan wasn’t going to follow, but then he turned and made his way through the underbrush of the forest. Ten minutes later they were moving deep within a cave, one Greta knew from the past because they’d hidden here, trying to stay in the dark from the Rogues.

  Once they were in the cave, Tolcan set her down, but as soon as she winced, as her feet were torn up and sore from running without shoes on, he immediately had her cradled in his arms. He leaned down, inhaled deeply from her hair, and then kissed the top of her head.

  “What the hell are we going to do now?” Jayce asked, gripping the weapon so tight his knuckles turned white.

  “We run and hide,” Tolcan said. “Until we can make a plan, maybe find Rogues and humans that might be willing to fight beside us, we are at the mercy of time.”

  “Fuck,” Jayce said, and started pacing. “I’m tired of running.”

  “Then by all means, go back out there and fucking fight the Rogues, but I won’t put Greta in any more danger.”

  “We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you wouldn’t have captured us.”

  Tolcan growled. “Watch yourself, human. I may have saved you from a fate worse than death, but it was only because my mate asked me to. As far as I’m concerned you’re in the way.”

  “Your mate? Your fucking mate?” Jayce sounded outraged as he stared at Greta. She knew how this was going to go if things didn’t calm down. Pushing on Tolcan’s chest until he set her down, she put herself between him and Jayce, and looked at the man she’d grown up with, the man she saw as a brother.

  “Please, no fighting, no beating chests like cavemen. We don’t need to be fighting with each other. We have enough against us right now.” She breathed out and moved over to a ledge, sitting down and bracing her hands on her knees. She was scared, tired, and didn’t know how things would play out. They had no supplies, no food or water, and all of the Rogues, or it seemed as much, were hunting them.

  “We can’t stay here for long. I want to keep moving, get far away from the Rogue soldiers. They won’t stop, not since they know I’ve mated Greta, took you from Redon, and killed Rogue officers. They’ll be hunting us. We need to find a place deep enough their scans can’t detect us, or get far enough away that we can buy ourselves some time to formulate a better, more airtight plan.”

  God, this had gone from bad to horribly worse.

  23

  Tolcan kept an eye on Greta, and although he knew she was exhausted, she wouldn’t let him carry her. Jayce and he had calmed the rage burning between them, because they had more important things to worry about. The soldiers hadn’t caught up with them yet, but being an Enforcer, Tolcan knew their strategies, and knew what they’d think of doing before they did it.

  It was how he’d outsmarted them for the last few
days they’d been traveling. Hell, he’d taught them those strategies, and now he was using it against them.

  They moved through the forest, around the thick trunks of the trees, and through a small creek. But his superior senses picked up on a twig snapping in the distance. Instantly he had Greta beside him and on the ground. He gestured for Jayce to do the same. They were silent, and Tolcan listened, waited. He heard nothing for a minute or so, then heard another rustling, this time closer.

  He unsheathed his sword silently, slowly rose, and scanned the perimeter of their surroundings. And then he saw him, the Rogue, partially hidden behind a tree, camouflaged. He moved closer, used his training to have the upper hand. But he was surprised when the male that stepped out from behind the tree was none other than Stellan.

  Stellan held his hands up in surrender. “I have no weapons and mean you no harm.”

  “Why are you tracking us?” Tolcan asked, keeping his body between him and Greta. Jayce was beside Tolcan, and he was surprised at the strength the human male showed.

  “I couldn’t find you after the arena incident, and I’ve come here to offer you a safe haven to yourself and your mate, and of course the human male.” He gestured to Jayce. “I’ve also come to ask for your help.”

  Tolcan stared at him. “Help? I can’t be any use. I’ve been banished from the Rogues, that’s clear from what I’ve done.”

  Stellan moved closer, his hand still outstretched. “I am not who you think I am.”

  This had Tolcan’s curiosity and interest piqued. He lowered his weapon. “And who exactly are you?”