by Alison Aimes
It seemed like a dream.
Yet, here she was. Alive. In one piece. But forever altered, the pieces of her soul reconfigured. Remade by pleasure and touch and the knowledge of all she hadn’t known before.
Dazed, her body still tingling, the terrible storm that had surged inside her since his first touch, was finally, blissfully silent.
Exhaustion beat at her, her skin slick, but it was a good kind of tired. Every part of her humming and alive.
Small shivers coursed through her. A warm, firm hand anchored her to this world. The heat of Grif’s palm as it stroked her hair another form of exquisite bliss. A connection. Deeper and more profound than she’d had with anyone else.
“Give yourself time. One’s first climax is pretty intense.” More warm caresses along her spine. “I’ve got you.”
Climax? Was that what that was? Her body tingled, her mind trying to function. To recall why she was making low animalistic noises that almost sounded like pain. Why there was something dark and shameful trying to push its way past this cloud of pure bliss. Why his voice sounded tinged with guilt, as if he knew something she didn’t.
“Shh, sweetheart.” His big palm covered her lower back, spanning almost the entire area and radiating wonderful warmth. His other hand gentle as he brushed a sweat-slicked strand of hair back from her forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I know it’s going to feel like it’s the end, but it’s only the beginning. I wasn’t lying. I am going to take care of you. Everything is going to be all right.”
Her spine snapped straight, her breath drawing in on a sharp inhale as the fog cleared and the reality of what had happened slammed into her.
The haze of bliss imploded as pain ripped it to shreds.
She’d told.
She’d broken.
She was a traitor now. Dead to the pack. Her dreams destroyed, her chance for the life she’d always wanted, gone.
Because of him.
Enraged, she threw back her head and tried to hurl herself from his arms.
“You’re lashing out because you feel exposed. Embarrassed. There’s no reason to feel that way.” He held her fast. “It’s okay, Nayla. I promise.”
“Promise? Liar!” She clawed at him, fighting to get free. “You destroy me.”
He’d preyed on her weaknesses, just as she’d feared.
The pack would be out to kill her now. She would be more scorned and hated than ever. Her death would be far more excruciating than a slow cleansing ritual, and no less than she deserved.
Ancients help her, she’d proven to be exactly as unworthy as Talg had predicted.
Now Grif knew it, too. He knew her shame and her ugly truths, and all the dishonor she had kept to herself until now.
She could bear that least of all.
“Stop thrashing.” Her captor’s hands clamped down on her shoulders, locking her in place. “You’ve been through a lot. Your body is at its limit. You need to rest.”
She only screamed louder. His false care making her shake with rage. He’d done this to her. Flayed her wide. Turned her body against her and exposed her shameful weakness.
“Enough.” The weight of his hands increased. Not painful, but firm. “You were always going to have to tell me where they were. Accept it. Now that you have, we can move on. Make things better.”
“Better?” Rage gave her a burst of renewed strength and she bucked harder. “No better for me, or you. Talg still going to force your females make glow-spears. He going bring down all Others. Take final stand. Fight or die. No other way.”
Grif’s grip tightened, his expression turning deadly. “Are you saying there’s a war coming?”
“Truth. Just like you demand.” Her breath wheezed in and out, the need to rebuild her walls making her reckless. “We always be enemies. Now you know.”
“Grif!” A new voice from the other side of the rock echoed through the cave. “You get what you need? Time’s up.”
19
Not fucking now.
Grif growled as pounding echoed through the cave. His teammates had returned. With the worst timing in the universe.
Nayla stiffened beneath his hands.
“Grif?” More pounding.
“Shit.” His dick pressed against his covering so hard he suspected it might leave permanent marks. The mental road marks she’d left across his chest even worse.
Her accusing gaze said it all. She felt used. Manipulated.
All true. He had used her fault lines against her. He’d known the risk going in and he’d fucking done it anyway.
For Hope and Melody and the missing females. For her, too.
She might not believe it now, but getting the location of those females was the only chance he had of saving her and her pack before his crew rained down with their own form of vengeance.
It was his only way, too, of breaking through the bullshit that had been inflicted on Nayla since she was young.
She didn’t seem to agree.
Whatever flimsy trust had started to form between them during the session was cracked and brittle now.
The sudden appearance of his team didn’t help.
“Grif?” Renewed pounding against the outer rock ripped him from his thoughts.
“I need to deal with this.” He lifted her off his lap, but didn’t let go, his hands encircling her shoulders so he could meet her gaze head on. “I doubt they’ll give us a lot of time before they come pouring in.”
Fear sparked in her gaze and another fissure appeared in his chest. He’d never hated doing his duty more than he did right now.
“Nayla?” He rubbed down the length of her arms, doing his best to keep his cool when all he wanted to do was throw back his head and howl. “I know you’re upset. I know the timing is shit. I am going to make you see that this was the right way to go. Believe me.”
Her refusal to answer beat at him.
There were many ways to train a subject, and what had just happened between them wasn’t one. This was something else altogether—a promise, a bonding. A bloodletting where neither of them had come away unscathed.
“Say something, damn it.”
“You kill me now?”
“Fuck no.” He lurched forward, her grim resignation so sickening he wanted to wrap his arms around her and shake some sense into her at the same time. But both would have to wait. First, he had to handle his crewmates. “No one will harm a hair on your head, wild thing. I swear it. I’m going to protect you.”
Her wide blinking gaze made no secret of her doubt.
She didn’t believe him. Why would she? Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a declaration. The same with his treatment thus far. But he’d bring her around.
Only problem: he was out of practice when it came to actual caretaking. After his sister, he’d focused on getting good at the breaking, not so much putting things back together. For Nayla, though, he’d figure it the fuck out.
He tipped her chin so that their eyes locked. “I’ve been trained my whole life to see a threat and take it down. First with my father, then as a soldier in the Resistance, then as a prisoner in the mines. In war, everything becomes real simple: fight or die. The same goes for those around you: ally or enemy. But I see now that you’re not my enemy and I know there doesn’t have to be war between us.”
She shook her head. “I wish true.”
“Grif?” Another slam at the rock’s outside had him moving faster.
His eyes locked with wary sapphire ones. “Gotta deal with this.”
He didn’t like the wrecked, knowing look in her stare.
But his crew needed answers—and those missing females needed to come home.
Scooping her into his arms bridal style, he hustled out of the main cavern, unable to miss the shiver that ran through her as his forearm brushed her heated ass, or the way her tits hardened at the rush of air.
She stiffened, her tiny palms pressing into his chest.
With a growl, he pressed her f
ully against him, refusing her rejection. She was so fucking gorgeous, her hair wild and silky, her skin flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded. The way she surrendered so damn sweet. Those sexy lines across the bridge of her nose and kothi kitten-like pointed ears—he wanted to trace them with his finger and his tongue…
“Grif!” Another shout.
“Coming!” They reached his destination. He set her down on her feet.
The second cavern, a small storage space packed with supplies, wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. There were no actual weapons in the space, but plenty she could use in a pinch. He’d have to be very careful when he returned. At least he could be certain of one thing. Escape was next to impossible. The cave itself offered only one exit and she’d have to go by him and his teammates to use it.
He seized her wrists. He brushed his thumb over a raised welt as if he could erase it with his touch. No way could he add to that by tying her up again. “I’ll leave you unrestrained, but you can’t come out. No matter what.”
“Others from camp?” Her fear was palpable.
“No, wild thing. My men and I buried most of those scumbags under a ton of rock. They’re rotting in the anonymous graveyard they deserve.”
“Wh-who then?”
“Friends.”
“Friends? Then why you look angry?”
“Grif!” Another shout of his name. This one even louder. They were moving the rock aside themselves.
He forced his expression to smooth even as the monster in him roared. He didn’t want them anywhere fucking near her. Not until he’d figured out his next step and how to keep Nayla from getting even more caught in the middle.
“I’m not angry at you. Only the situation.” He gripped her chin. “Stay here and behave.”
Defiance flared in her gaze, those tipped ears of hers going rigid.
His cock throbbed.
But he was out of time.
He turned to go. Fuck. He was so used to dealing with hardened bastards—male and female—who were as empty, dark, and brutal on the inside as he. He hadn’t expected a fragile, delicate pixie with wide, expressive eyes whose pain and stubbornness were greater than his own.
He knew exactly how hard it was not to crumble under that kind of relentless brutality.
“Boy, you’ll do what I say when I say it.” Fermented ale on his breath. A dark shadow above, three times taller than his eleven-year-old self. The vicious sucker punch that knocked his chin sideways and sent him slamming into the already well-dented wall. The shell that was his sister just staring, doing nothing, her expression still slack, her gaze empty. “When I tell you to get the fuck out of my way, you’ll crawl like the worm you are out of my sight, and take your slut of a sister, too. Otherwise, she’ll pay and you already know there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
He was a fool for ever dismissing Nayla as weak. She was one of the strongest people he’d ever met. Still fighting, even after all she’d been through.
If he could go back, he’d do things differently between them from the start. But there was no do-over. All he could control was what happened next.
He paused at the storage room’s exit. “We’ve got a lot we need to address when I return, but we’ll get through it. I didn’t understand the situation fully before, but I do now. I’m not your enemy, but I can’t let your pack amass those weapons to be used on my kind.”
“You kill pack?” her voice trembled. “When you find females, you kill pack in revenge?”
He almost asked her why she cared. After the way that Talg bastard and the others had treated her, she should wish for their death, not worry over their survival. But he already knew the answer she would give. He already knew Nayla was sweet and kind and a thousand times more forgiving than he would ever be.
So, even though the urge to personally rip each and every one of the pack’s miserable abusing hearts from their bleeding chests throbbed inside him, he schooled his features and said only, “All we want is the missing females and peace. If your pack agrees to those terms, we will, too. But no matter what, you’re going to be okay from here on out. I will make sure of it.”
Defiance flared. Anger, too. “Never okay. I betrayed pack.”
His own anger sparked. He hated how she was beating herself up. “Thanks to you, those missing females will soon be back with their families and friends. Good was done here today. Believe me.”
Out of time, he hightailed it toward the main cavern, hating every step that increased the distance between him and where he wanted to be.
20
His “guests” had already let themselves in. There were fewer of them this time, but it didn’t make them any more welcome.
“Impressive.” Malin turned in a slow circle near the entrance to the cave, eyeing the chains dangling from the wall and floor, as well as the ominous-looking stone spanking bench.
Ryker stood right behind, checking things out as well.
They hadn’t bothered to shove the rock back in place so the suns’ rays bathed the place in a bright light that did nothing to improve the look of the setting.
Grif fought a surge of aggression. What was between him and his wild thing was just theirs. Personal. Intense. Private.
Except what she’d told him couldn’t be.
“Your timing is shit.” He rubbed a hand down his jaw. “But, as promised, I have the coordinates and the start of some intel about guarding and defense.”
“Well done.” Ryker didn’t appear surprised.
For the first time, though, there wasn’t the usual sense of triumph. Truth be told, Grif felt like shit.
“The commander and I never expected anything less.” Ryker pulled his attention away from the pile of ashes in the fire pit. “We’ve assembled an extraction team,” he paused slightly, “which you’ll lead.”
Hells, yes. Grif stood taller and did a mental fist pump. He was still in the running, after all. To his right, he could feel Malin seething.
“I need to remain here to deal with another concern,” Ryker continued. “Zale, Quil, Bain, and Malin have all returned to join you for combat and tactical engagement. Maddox, Jagger, and Nash are here as well, to give you a bit more backup. The commander also agreed to include three noncombatant females who have expertise in healing, trauma survival, and linguistics. They’re ready to move out as soon you give the command. We want these missing females brought home without delay. I assume the plan meets with your approval.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” To be tasked to lead such an important extraction mission was a major honor—and a big chance for redemption.
“You earned it.” Ryker surveyed the cave once more. “I assume the hostile gave you no more problems.”
The words hit like a fist to the gut, Grif’s sense of satisfaction sliding away. “She’s not a hostile anymore.”
“Call her whatever you like.” Malin cut in before he could finish, his hand caressing the handle of his knife. “I’m under orders to put the threat down before we take off.”
Pure fury crashed through Grif. “No one is touching her.”
“You may be in charge of the extraction,” snapped Malin, “but what happens to the hostile is not your call anymore, pretty boy. Commander already gave the order.”
What in the hells? Grif’s turned to Ryker.
His second opened his mouth.
“Ah, hi. Is this a private gathering?” A pretty, pale face framed by brown hair peeked out from behind Malin. Another thin, taller form with a thin scar down her cheek hovered right behind. “We’re here, too.”
“Hey, Lana, Cam.” Grif clamped down on his aggression. Lana and Cam were part of the group of slaves he’d help rescue from 223’s gang. Lana, the brunette, had been in a separate prison camp, while Cam had been with him, Tyson, the girls, and their mother.
His workspace was the last place they needed to be.
“These fools shouldn’t have dragged you in here.”
“Oh, they didn’t. We
just wanted to say hi.” Lana’s accompanying blush told him she wasn’t over her hero worship yet. He’d been one of the first to rescue her and she’d locked on him, sort of like a security blanket. He didn’t take it personally. It happened. He’d been doing his best to be supportive, while subtly encouraging her to look elsewhere for a long-term protector. He wasn’t what she needed. Even less so, now.
Cam, on the other hand, usually avoided him like the plague. Even now, her dark eyes barely locked on his before slipping away. He understood. She’d been close with the girls’ mother, standing by her side the rotation Luna was dragged away behind Sharluff. Unlike the brunette with worship in her gaze, Cam knew exactly how little of a hero he truly was.
“They shouldn’t be here at all. They should be back at the settlement, safe.” Malin wrapped his arms tighter around his chest, biceps bulging.
“Good thing you’re not in charge.” Lana, showing more spunk than Grif had witnessed to date, glared at the other male. Cam, as usual, remained quiet.
According to Ryker, who’d known Lana before she was condemned to Dragath25, the brunette with unusual gray eyes had once been a mischievous, bold party girl. She was more somber now. Almost brittle. But she’d thrown herself into learning defense and healing techniques and was a mother hen to many of the other rescued slaves. Each rotation she appeared to come more and more out of her shell.
Cam stayed a bit more to herself, but was well liked. Her quiet presence was soothing to the other survivors who found it easy to talk with her about their trauma and their fears.
But none of that explained why the two of them were here now in this cave.
“I’m just so honored to be part of the group that’s going to bring the missing females home.” Fervent awe tinged Lana’s voice as she answered Grif’s unspoken question. She and Cam were two of the civilians along to help the missing females once they were rescued. “All thanks to you.”
Grif forced a smile. “We’ll do our best, but don’t get your hopes up too soon.” There was still a hells of a lot that could go wrong and he didn’t want Nayla paying the price because of raised expectations.