She reared back. ‘Stop.’
‘No.’ He grabbed her wrist to hold her. Purple blood slicked the silvered blade and dribbled over her white-knuckled fist. He brought their faces close together, his gaze drilling into her panicked one.
She shut her eyes.
Bhyr moved her wrist out to the side, stretching her arm. He considered his Gift. A mental image of her convulsing made his stomach twist.
Instead, he squeezed.
She opened her fingers to release her prize.
Whimpered when he drew her closer, not a wisp of space between their bodies.
‘I am not human.’ The sound of his voice breaking the silence was a violence of its own. He clasped her neck and used his thumb to push her head back. The long line of her throat was unblemished. ‘That weakness on me does not exist. If I cut you, as you cut me, blood would spurt. You would die.’
Thin skin over her pulse danced.
‘Are you going to punish me, First?’ Her tone would have him think her nonchalant.
Could he not feel her heart thudding its savage beat, he might have bought the lie.
‘Bhyr?’ Her throat trembled.
Hearing his name from her lips, he lost his sense of self. He lowered his head and inhaled the musk of her sweat. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. He dragged it along her jugular to ease the sting. Relief lasted but a moment before it returned, vengeful, and doubled the need at his groin.
‘Do it.’ Her voice was faint, stronger than before. ‘Do it. I have a right to defend myself. I am not afraid. I am the wolf.’
Bhyr peered at her then returned to his exploration.
To rut hurt a male, but the longer his female spent within his grasp, the less he feared it. He licked her again. Short strokes with the prickling tip of his tongue. The forbidden stimulation sent bolts of illicit pleasure arcing through his nerves. She shuddered. Her hands fluttered up to rest on his shoulders. He moved down, nostril slits flaring, lips dragging against skin. So soft, it beggared belief. Too rough a movement, he could rip her in half. He reached the crinkled nubs on her teats and laved them with single-minded devotion. His loins engorged. Barb aching for pressure, to swell and anchor itself at the mouth of her chalice. His breeder squirmed. Her fingers dug into the sides of his neck, hips bumping against his abdomen. He imagined her moving just so with him deep inside her. His shaft would strike where she burned hottest. Rather than recoil in disgust, his tongue throbbed.
It mirrored the sensation in his seed sac.
The lack of friction on his shaft caused a jangle of pain. It was enough to bring him back to himself. Guilt subsumed the pleasure. He knew better than to dally with temptation.
Using his sacred organ for copulation was not only weak but disrespectful to his god.
He was Destruction’s high priest, his mortal Avatar.
He knew better.
With his tongue swollen and aching in his mouth, for the first time in his life cycle, he resented his duty and refused to repent. He straightened and brought them out of the hot water. His muscles quivered with unspent tension.
The breeder draped over him. Damp skin flushed and twitching, the crude circles she ground with her hips slowed into lazy bucks.
He welcomed the tepid drench down his spine as he ducked them under the spray of the waterfall.
She screeched like a fuzzy-eared fangbeast pup whose tail had been trod on.
She held herself stiff as a plank as he rubbed her down to remove the dirt loosed from her skin during their soaking.
Bhyr set her down to do the same for himself.
She scurried out of the spray, glaring and shivering, her lips an eye-catching blue.
The warm mist drifting off the pool no longer flooded his receptors with her scent and taste, leaving him clear-headed.
Excessive heat stunned his nervous system and slowed his mental faculties. Much like deep cold interfered with the Rä, sending them into a state of near hibernation. It was an old-established reason neither of the species troubled the other. Their respective planets would be nigh on impossible to invade without crippling loses. Considering his recent violent encounter with their supreme warrior, the ancient accord would break. Soon. A diplomatic apology would be prudent, but the chances of He, Venomous One accepting his overtures were slim.
His transgressions had not been minor.
Look at her and tell yourself she isn’t worth the price.
His human breeder would be more than worth it once she presented his spawn. That he felt more alive and vital in her presence was a bonus.
Refreshed, Bhyr finished rinsing and shook off the worst of the wetness. An eye on his breeder’s nakedness, his mind circled back to his previous task.
She needed coverings to leave the nest.
More so now he’d destroyed the set he’d cobbled together on the ship.
He strode past her to return to the main chamber, fingers curling with the need to haul her to his side.
Why do I ache to touch her?
‘That’s it?’ She spun to watch him go, her face a wild thing. ‘Nothing? You’re walking away like I did nothing?’
He paused mid stride.
Turned his head to see over his shoulder. Frowned. ‘You expect something of me?’
‘What? No. Yes. Why are you not punishing me? This was so much worse than looking at you. I don’t understand.’ She flung out her arms, hands fisted. Drops of water flew from her mane and splattered him. ‘Don’t you care I threatened your life?’
Bhyr found the corners of his mouth stretching, his eyes narrowing with humour. It was a long time since he’d had cause to smile. ‘Is that what you did?’ He walked on while shaking his head, a buzz in his throat. ‘Funny female.’
13
Indira
Still alive, my sarcastic inner voice sang. I relaxed my jaw. My tooth enamel had taken enough of a grinding during the night.
Waves of the frustration I’d lived with since my well-ordered life became a nightmare flooded me. I stared balefully at the uneven ceiling, rigid with stress. I was not a single step closer to escaping.
What did I learn?
The alien warrior of an advanced civilisation wasn’t gullible.
Duh.
He’d seen through my manipulations in the pool as if he looked through a pane of glass. Either I wasn’t as sly as I’d thought, or he was so secure in his manhood, my simpering performance hadn’t fooled him.
That he didn’t punish me after I’d made a desperate grab for the knife made me anxious. The only thing that kept me from tweaking was the silence he’d treated me to the rest of the evening. It gave the distinct impression I’d pushed him to the outer limit of what bad behaviour he’d condone.
Or that I’d disappointed him somehow.
Kind of crazy.
Right?
He might have stopped referring to me as if I were an inanimate object, but he’d abducted me. Heaped indignities upon my person.
There was no forgetting it.
No forgiving it.
So he’d had an attack of guilt or some kind of moral epiphany that moved him to interact with me as an equal.
Good for him.
I hadn’t let it stop me.
After he went to bed, I risked pretending to sleep. I then snuck into the cleansing room to fetch the knife from the pool. It was dangerous and foolhardy to risk angering him so soon. But the thought of gaining a weapon that could pierce his armoured flesh seduced me into trying.
The fact I’d held that same knife on him and achieved nothing but a weird sexual high was irrelevant.
I promised myself next time, I’d keep it together.
Do something meaningful.
I’d spent an hour on my hands and knees. I kept my head under the water until my eyes and lungs burned, searching. Only to discover he’d retrieved the damn thing.
He’d bested me again.
Enraged, I’d paced the steam-filled chamber to dry off an
d gain control of my temper.
A one in a million chance, and I blew it.
I’d acted wanton in the pool. My wariness had morphed into an unquenchable desire and muddled my common sense. All within a second of him focusing his undivided attention on my body. I didn’t understand why. Was it a fear response? Grief? Stress over Cristina’s unknown fate?
No, I handled that–barely–but handled it.
The factor driving me to fail had to be lust. Lust that made me ache whenever he drew near. Why else had I baulked? I’d gone from hating his touch to craving it, a touch junkie, and the shame was crippling. Not to mention the discovery I shared an affinity for his alien brand of sadistic kink. What happened on the frozen lake… the First mounting me like an unthinking beast? It should have been the most traumatic thing to happen to me. In some ways, it was. In others, it wasn’t. Maybe because once I’d woken naked and chained on the spaceship, I’d expected it? By forcing myself to face that looming reality, I had been somewhat more prepared than in other circumstances. The First hadn’t kept his intentions a secret. He’d been clear from the start of my role in his society. That was another thing. Setting aside the violation of my body, it infuriated me he didn’t care what he’d done to me on an emotional level. My wellbeing was insignificant. The explosive outbursts of my inner turmoil didn’t even rate a reaction. On second thought, did I need the First to take an interest in my mental state? I barely coped with his physical domination. Let alone if he noted and then demanded control of my emotions.
I scratched my arms, breaking out in hives.
Miserable, I had given up trying to make sense of myself and slinked back to my soft bundle on the floor.
Eerie white eyes watched.
I’d pretended not to care, heart pounding, the space between my legs wet at the idea he’d punish me.
When did I get twisted?
Shaking myself, done with ruminating over my failures, I threw back the covers.
It was a new day.
Can’t be weirder than the last.
I got washed up, and the First dressed me in the outfit he’d hand-sewn for me the night before. I felt cold looking at how little he wore. Then hot at the bunch and flex of muscle under the armoured skeleton that made him shine like a living diamond.
I stopped gawking and glared. ‘Wonder how long I’ll get to keep these.’ I picked invisible lint off my shoulder.
‘As long as I see fit.’
We left the nest for places unknown. Rather than head outside, the First guided me through a doorway leading into the mountain. A tunnel. I plodded along the narrow passage, a twinge of apprehension slowing my feet. The worry passed. The tunnel never grew too small or dark, but remained spacious, cold air blasting my face. Globular lights floated near the ceiling. They illuminated the earthen walls and floor with a bluish green glow.
A rumble of alien speech reached us.
The First stopped. His expression was inscrutable, body sending signals I struggled to interpret. ‘This is the Gathering Grotto where the Horde meet to be social. While we are here, warriors look to me for guidance. We discuss trade and politics. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will address me as First. I will leave you with other females, where you might discover word of your friend.’ He paused. ‘No matter what you learn, you will behave.’ Face darkening, his grip on my leash tightened. ‘Do not disobey me in this.’
I hid my shock.
He offered me a chance to discover news of Cristina.
I studied his serious expression. I understood the need to keep up appearances. The consequence of speaking out of turn in front of another Horde warrior turned a yellowish green on my cheek. ‘Okay.’
‘Follow,’ he said.
My eyes skipped across the cavernous space. I took in the moss-covered floor and vine wreathed walls. Nothing I hadn’t already seen. Larger and brighter globe lanterns encircled the ceiling’s circumference. A resinous fragrance lent an air of freshness to the chamber. It eased the paranoia that tons of compressed rock sat overhead and waited to crash down.
Scattered around the rotunda were groupings of Horde warriors. They sat on low, wide cushions around a glowing, crumbling rock that radiated heat, sipping yeasty liquor that wafted around.
My gaze latched to a trio of fur-clad women tucked into the farthest corner of the high-ceilinged cavern.
The First escorted me over and locked my leash onto a post. I tried to catch what he did, so I could replicate it, but when he touched the links to the metal, the separate pieces fused. Like magic.
As he strode away, our gazes met and held. His eyes flickered, as if he’d changed his mind about allowing me beyond arm’s reach.
My heart picked up tempo, my palms dampened, and I told myself I was afraid.
He stalked on.
Tearing my gaze from his back, I flung my arms open, able to draw a full breath.
Cristina wrapped her dark, slender arms around me.
My shoulder stifled a sob.
‘Hey you.’ She was so choked, the words were garbled. I squeezed her in return, my wet eyes closing.
‘Hey back.’ Questions I didn’t want to ask backed up like rush hour traffic. ‘Were you… are you hurt?’
‘I’m okay. Scared you didn’t make it, but okay.’ Her grip on me tightened. ‘You’re not the most obedient of people, Indie.’
Smiling, I rocked her side to side. ‘You and me both.’
We parted, but stayed close, relieved the other was whole and unharmed. The unknown-to-me women kept to their own space during our quiet but emotional reunion.
‘This is Indira.’ Cristina’s voice pitched high with excitement. ‘The woman I was asking you about.’
‘I’m glad you’re okay. You upset your friend with your continued absence.’ Petite and fay-looking with strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes, the woman gave me a firm handshake. Though she looked demure and fragile, her gaze was direct, her voice brisk.
Cristina shot me a look of embarrassment. ‘I got here a few minutes ago. I haven’t asked their names yet.’
‘Ashleigh.’ The fay woman tapped her chest. ‘I don’t like it shortened.’
‘I’m Elena.’ A bird-boned girl flapped a hand in a half-hearted wave. She wiped her dripping nose on her wrist. She blinked, looking lost. ‘You can shorten mine. Ella is fine. It reminds me of being home.’
‘I recognise you,’ Ashleigh told Cristina. ‘I watch the daybreak news.’
Cristina beamed and flicked her braids over her shoulder. She wore a hooded jumpsuit in pink and grey fur. It contrasted with her mahogany skin. ‘It’s great to meet a fan.’
‘Oh, no, I’m not.’
Cristina’s smile faded.
Ashleigh caught my laughing eyes and winked.
‘Is this it?’ I asked. ‘Are we the only ones who survived the Testing?’
At the mention, Ella hunched. Greasy hair hung lank in front of her face. Her blue-gray eyes more often than not unfocused to stare into the middle distance. An unpleasant odour wafted from her clothing and dirt smeared her skin.
Girl looked wrecked.
Ashleigh shook her head. ‘There are more of us. This is your first time here?’
I shrugged. ‘It is.’
‘Your warrior must be a loner. Kov Ohx likes to be around his brothers. This cave is where the Horde come to socialise and swap notes about how to handle us.’ She made a thoughtful face. ‘There’s this woman called Mayumi. She knows about our numbers, and she’s good with names. If you stick around, she should show up. She’s often here when I am.’ Ashleigh motioned around. ‘Anyway, there’s around four hundred of us left.’ She tucked hair behind her ears. ‘Pretty sure there was close to double taken. Worldwide.’
I nodded, my neck stiff.
What could I say to that?
‘The First keeps me in his nest,’ I said and like a coward avoided the rest.
‘The First? That was him?’ She glanced in the direction my ali
en had gone. ‘As in Hel Bhyr the First? As in the biggest asshole these other assholes worship as a primordial god made flesh?’
I startled, eyes round. ‘God made flesh?’
‘It’s what the Horde believe. And when I say believe, I don’t mean visiting St. Paul’s once a year for midnight mass. They live and die by his Law. He’s the mortal incarnation of their male deity. Their King, President and Pope wrapped into one.’ She blew a breath through loose lips, eyeing me like I was as good as dead. ‘That makes you the Avatar of Creation, the mortal incarnation of their goddess.’
My hand groped at the open air. ‘I don’t know what to do with that.’
‘It has to be a good thing.’ Cristina perked up. ‘Can’t we use it to our advantage? Indie can pretend their goddess commands the Horde to return us to Earth.’
‘Eh.’ Ashleigh made a so-so motion with her hand. ‘Ohx told me about their religion. It sounds as if they think little of her. They consider her Destruction’s–that’s the male god–submissive. A seen and not heard type. She pushes out his spawn, and he rules the known universe.’ Her eyes rolled like blue glass marbles.
‘They see her as a glorified baby mamma.’ Ella glanced at me, dismissive, then snorted. ‘That’s so helpful.’
Cristina gave her side-eye. ‘Have you got anything useful we can use against them?’
Ella flushed, mouth tight.
‘Anyone?’ Cristina asked.
‘I wish I had an escape worked out,’ said Ashleigh. ‘It was all I thought about those first days. Honestly? I’m all about surviving feeding time.’
We shared a half-appalled, half-amused look.
Ella shuddered.
‘Not to mention this.’ Ashleigh tugged her furry wrap down to her upper thighs. Her Keeping gleamed, moulded to her slim hips. She avoided touching the leash, and none of us looked at the chain leading from her crotch to the post. ‘Anyone figured out how to take it off?’ Ashleigh could not hide the tremor of hope in her voice.
We shook our heads.
‘Oh, well.’ She slumped, shook the moment off to square her shoulders. ‘No matter. Ohx doesn’t use it much anymore. Only the first few times….’ She trailed off, staring at nothing. She fumbled to cover herself.
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