by Viola Grace
Burning Ceres
Rune Series - Ingwaz
By
Viola Grace
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Burning Ceres
Rune Series - Ingwaz
Copyright © 2007 Viola Grace
ISBN: 1-55410-789-X
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Ingwaz Meaning:
The creative force of an individual that will bear the fruits of the future.
The creative forces of masculine fertility, gestation, emotional growth, virtue, and common sense. This combines with family love, caring, warmth, a lack of anxiety and a time of relief.
To everyone seeking a happily ever after. Sometimes happily for now can count.
Chapter One
Ceres stumbled and fell hard. She scrambled to her feet and dodged down the nearest alley. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her chest was heaving like a bellows. She tried to still her breathing and crouched next to a waste receptacle. Her eyes and ears were alert for any sign of her pursuer, but she knew that by the time she heard something, it would be too late.
Why the hell had she run from her family? Oh, yeah. The arranged mating.
So, her family was Nyal royalty, so they had a position to maintain, what gave them the right to choose the man that she would submit to?
On the day of the official ceremony she had run. As far and as fast as her credit could carry her.
She had eluded capture for almost a solar year. Within that year, she had gone into heat five times. Each time she had bribed a medical team to put her in a tank at the medical center and to wipe their records of her visit after she left. The fake names that she had used had given her a bit of protection, but she had been forced to use the same identity twice. The last two heats had been so close together that she had been unable to set up a new name before she was forced to seek medical attention.
The tank had become essential two years earlier at her family’s home. She had begun attracting every male in the vicinity with her pheromones and it had caused quite the stir, even her guards had tried to break into her room one night to answer her body’s call.
That had been when her father had put his foot down and started to make arrangements for her mating. She had no say in the selection process.
The day before the official announcement and two months before her next heat, she ran. She was exhausted.
It would almost be easier to just let them catch her.
She sat up quickly, hearing a noise in the dark and steeled her nerves. If she could last out the night, she could contact her father and arrange to come home. Kirkan Avedis might have a temper, but he would honour his daughter’s request to come in if she apologized.
A bright flare in the darkness let her know her time was up. She felt the pulse of energy a moment before she fell to the ground in a heap.
* * * *
“Ugh. Where am I?” She struggled to sit, but there were restraints on her arms and across her torso.
“You are on my ship, Dame Avedis. I am taking you back to Nyal.” A woman’s voice. Low and sultry. The type of voice that men fell over each other to get close to.
“And who are you?”
“Asha Timmons. Alliance Hunter.” The owner of the voice stood and came close enough for her to see her.
It was one of the new races. A Terran. The blue-black waves of hair that fell down her back were just as alien to the Nyal as the bright blue eyes were.
Ceres’ own ivory locks and scarlet eyes were stereotypical Nyal features. Her dusky skin was the only aberration. The result of an ancestress who tumbled an Azon during a period of her own heat.
“What is an Alliance Hunter doing tracking in Nyal space?”
“Making a fair trade for some citizens who are being held slave in your solar system.” She perched on the end of the bed and looked down at her prisoner. “I suppose that I should warn you, your father is really pissed. He has insisted that you be taken with no concern for your rank or physical condition.”
“Well, I imagined that he would be. It isn’t anything new.”
“Oh, have you been sold at the Great Arena before? That is where you are headed.”
Ceres went cold. The Great Arena? That was where low caste women were auctioned off to the highest bidder for mating, and slaves were processed for distribution. The same slave trade that had kept Nyal out of the Alliance.
“You have to let me go. I need to get out of here.” She struggled against her bonds, frustrated when her captor just watched her. There was pity in that blue gaze, but also a stern determination.
“It is better for you to be in the clutches of your own people, than for one of my species to be trapped on a mining planet.” Her leather-clad legs crossed and she watched Ceres until she stopped struggling.
The com unit chirped.
“We are in Nyal space.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Oh, I kept you out for a couple of days. No sense in having you getting all upset on me. Your metabolism is running a little fast or you would still be out. By the time you hit the Arena, you are going to be in full heat.”
She groaned and banged her head against the mattress under her head. This was not what she had in mind when she thought about returning home.
Chapter Two
"Do you understand the protocol of the private sale?” Auctioneer Zosia paced up and down in Ceres’ cell.
“They can see me, but I can’t see them.” Ceres was tired of being naked in the cage. She had been stripped as soon as she arrived, cleaned from head to toe and put into a ‘single’ cell. She could feel her hormones rising, her mind fumbling around the ideas of sexual possession and her pulse pounding with every hour in the cell.
The slick traces of cream that her body was producing had enough pheromones in them to drive every male guard out of the area where she was being held. It was worth castration if they touched her, so they left before it was uncontrollable. Only female guards had been allowed in her vicinity since.
She hadn’t bothered masturbating, as she knew from experience that it only made the heat worse. It turned her body from a simmer to a boil until the very air burned at her flesh. It was the reason for the tank. Immersion in the thick liquid kept her body from stimulation and let her ride out the hormone wave.
That option was not available to her as she faced auction. They wanted her heat; the hotter the better.
The private auction was the only concession to her rank that had been allowed.
“I will be dressed in the sheerest fabric you can find, chained at the neck, belly, wrists and ankles. The bidding will start and as soon as it stalls you will bring me out and begin to describe me in graphic terms.”
Zosia nodded, elegant in her simple tunic and sandals. She was one of the best auctioneers available and the commission that sh
e was going to receive of Ceres’ sale was astronomical. “That is precisely it. You will be asked to pose seductively, and the gown may be taken from you if we don’t get enough response.”
Ceres sat on her bunk and closed her eyes. Great, just great. It was one of her little fantasies to be ogled by strangers. But she had always hoped to keep it a fantasy.
“Fine then, Dame Avedis, get up and follow me.”
Silently, Ceres followed the woman who was about to sell her to the highest bidder. She was bathed, dried and denied any perfumes for enhancement. She was then subjected to being chained. Silver cuffs were put on her wrists and ankles, a collar was wrapped around her neck, and a slender chain was placed around her belly, hanging just below her navel and drawing attention to the slight tuft of hair at the juncture of her thighs.
“Huh, I didn’t realize that they made silk gauze that thin.” It was the only thing she could say that would calm her nerves as the l’nal spun silk was draped over her shoulders, and tucked under the belly chain. The chain was an integral part of her clothing, as it kept the silk from sliding and floating off her as she walked to the holding area where they attached her final chains.
Her collar received a tangle of chain, one attached to her right wrist, one to her left, a center link to her belly chain and two more light chains leading to her ankles. Though they were delicate in appearance, they would support her body weight with ease. She wasn’t going anywhere.
She fidgeted and waited for the signal that all parties invited had arrived. Behind an opaque screen, they were gathering to bid on her. She heard the murmur of masculine voices behind that curtain and shuddered as a wave of lust rolled over her. They would definitely see what they were bidding on. A Nyal royal female in full heat.
A blue light flickered on above and Zosia took the stage. She greeted all of the participants and began a description of Ceres’ bloodlines and family connections. Then she got to her age, twenty-five, and the number of heats that she had had since maturity, seventeen.
This last had a murmur of interest in the audience. It was rare to have a woman that hot blooded. She would be an excellent breeder, and with her family connections, the child would have access to all of her properties.
A white light lit in the preparation room and Ceres shuddered. The bidding had begun. Long minutes passed and a red light flared to life. That was her cue. The bidding on the invisible woman was over, and they now wanted to justify further expenditures in the flesh.
“And here she is, my lords, look at how fine her features are drawn, those lush lips touching your body, those elegant hands on you, stroking you.” Ceres was blushing; it was only going to get worse.
Zosia took a light crop and lifted her chin. “Nobility in every movement, imagine her begging for your touch.” The crop floated down to her breasts and flicked over one tip. “Responsive to the least touch, her nipples tighten from this little caress.”
Ceres was looking blindly into the audience, her face was on fire as the auctioneer continued the stroking of the crop down her body. She could smell her own heat, and by the murmurs in the audience, they were beginning to catch her scent. The flashing numbers on the podium climbed higher.
“And the clever curve of her belly, my lords, take a good look at the graceful and sensitive curve.” The crop trailed lower and she shuddered hard as it hit the crease between thigh and hip. “Ah, a sign. She is in heat, my lords. Her sixth this year. Until her body is satisfied, it will continue to flare to life for you.”
The numbers climbing on the podium were a blur.
“Now, my lords, to show you her lower limbs and the center of the flame that burns within her.”
A number began to blink frantically on the podium. Zosia turned her head and froze. “The auction is over, my lords. Please accept my thanks and the thanks of the Arena for attending this auction. The highest bidder may collect his purchase in the offices.”
Confusion broke out behind the curtain and angry mutters carried over to Ceres’ ears.
Zosia bowed to all of those who attended and hustled Ceres off the stage. Not an easy task, given her restraints.
The linking chains were swiftly removed and a heavy cloak thrown over her shoulders. A green light indicated that her buyer was waiting, and she was quickly given shoes and dragged toward the office.
She didn’t even dare to ask who purchased her. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know.
Chapter Three
She was shaking with a combination of lust and fear as they approached the sitting room where her buyer was waiting. As they drew near the door a servant scuttled forward with an object clutched in her hands.
Ceres drew in her breath, it was a mating mask. It was a beautiful mix of leather and gemstones and she looked at it in horror. Zosia took it from the servant and tugged it onto Ceres’ head.
The mask covered her eyes completely, depressions in the leather keeping her eyes firmly shut. The remainder of the mask drew down across her cheeks, and fastened behind the base of her head with a small snap.
It left her mouth, nose and chin open to the elements and to whatever her new master had planned for her.
She was blind.
Zosia took her by both of her hands and led her forward, through the door. A soft whisper, “Don’t worry. He is very handsome,” was the only comfort that she got before the announcement. “Here is your property, my lord. And if there is anything else that you need, don’t hesitate to send a message to the Grand Arena.”
Strong male hands took over Zosia’s grip, and she felt herself herded out of the office and into the open air. He tucked her carefully into a waiting vehicle, and climbed in after her.
There was leather under her palms and a definite masculine musk in the vehicle. Whomever had purchased her, he had no lady, or at least had never transported her in this equipage.
The seat was wide and she fumbled her way to the far side, trying to keep her balance against the wall of the skimmer. She knew it was a skimmer; as it rose to the hover level and thrust forward, she slid back into the seat with a distinctive thunk.
It was a familiar reminder that she was home.
Silence reigned in the skimmer and she could once again smell her own musk. Her owner had not said anything, in fact he seemed completely unaware of her. She shifted and licked her lips nervously, his sharp inhalation was evidence that he was indeed watching her.
Her body was shaking, her mind fighting the urge to feel her way across the seat and climb into the lap of her new owner. She didn’t know who he was, why he had purchased her or what he had in mind, and yet she wanted to sheath his cock in her heat right now.
Another wave of pheromones came off her body and a dark chuckle broke into her misery. “It’s bad, is it?”
“It gets worse every time.” She huddled in on herself and kept her back to the wall. The hands that touched her caused her to jump in surprise. She was inexorably pulled toward him, her arms flailed and gripped the arms that held her.
She was panting on the edge of panic when he finished adjusting her position until she was straddling him. Her fingers fumbled and found his shoulders, then slowly dragged upward until they framed the line of his jaw. “May I?”
He didn’t say no, so she explored him. He had a strong jaw, well shaped ears, silky hair that felt cool against her fingers. His brow was pronounced and the aquiline nose had a small bump in it. When she trailed her fingers across the soft and wide expanse of his mouth, sharp teeth nipped at her skin and she jumped again.
This time his arms came around her and he held her until she calmed, then raised her fingers to his lips once again and sucked one into his mouth.
Gooseflesh broke out over her body as his tongue swirled around her digit. He sucked and licked slowly at her fingers. Her teeth nipped out to grab at her lip as she fought a moan. The wet heat in his mouth and the stroke of his tongue against her hands was driving her lust higher.
She tasted blood and he
r own tongue came out to lave at the tiny cut that she had made. He released her fingers and she felt his breath mingle with hers a moment before he took her mouth with his own.
With desperate fumbling fingers she took hold of his shoulders, the ornate filigree of his family crests rubbing against her hands as she clutched at him. So, he was of noble or wealthy family. At least she knew one thing about her new owner, he had money. And a kiss that drove her to the edge of release and left her teetering on the precipice.
The damp heat between her thighs was creating a heady scent that had his hands caressing her hips and pulling her cunt against the ridge in his trousers. He groaned as she pressed against him and began to rock up and down on the hard evidence of his arousal.
She shook and writhed in his grip, embracing her orgasm with a sharp squeak as he slammed her tightly against him. He kept the firm contact between them until she whimpered and slumped against him in a stupor.
Her voice was hoarse, “You know that that is just going to keep making it worse, right? I have been in heat over six times this year, I either need to get fucked, or I am going to go insane.”
“Soon, Ceres. You will simply have to wait.” His whisper breathed heat down her neck and she shook as his fingers slid under the silk of her covering to explore her sex.
He stroked and parted the petals of slick flesh that guarded her channel, then slipped one finger inside. Her breath caught and held, her entire focus on that finger and the sensation of it ever so slowly entering and retreating with a maddening rhythm.
Fighting against the grip he had on her hip, she twisted away from him and ended up on the floor of the skimmer. His clever digit had bumped into her maidenhead and the sharp pause and flash of pain had enabled her to regain her senses, if only for a moment.