She stiffened when she heard the hum of other male voices growing louder with every step her captor took. He murmured something in a low tone, as though to reassure her, and his arms tightened. The one beneath her thighs shifted higher, and his hand slid over her bottom and curled around her hip. He patted her there. The effect anything but comforting, although he likely intended for it to be.
His familiarity with her person, his size and strength, and not least of all the way his eyes had scanned down her body and the smile that broke over his face at what he saw, gave Lana a distinct picture of what lay ahead for her.
They entered a clearing, and she found herself surrounded by more huge, towering men, all talking excitedly and clamoring for a glimpse of her, moving closer—too close. One reached out to touch her hair, hanging long and messy all around her. She recoiled, clinging to the only thing she could—her captor.
He reacted immediately, tightening his arms around her and he barked something at the men. Despite the language barrier, she could tell it was a harsh reprimand. They quickly backed away.
He released her legs and let her slide down his front, her softness encountering every hard plane and contour of his body as he lowered her to the ground. When her feet touched down, he kept her close, so her breasts pressed flat against his chest. She fought to put space between them but didn’t make any headway against his superior strength.
Her head fell back, and she glared up at him, as frightened as she was desperate to get away. “Let me go! You don’t have the right to just take me.”
But he wasn’t paying attention. Instead, his eyes were aimed over her head, focused on something behind her and he was frowning, fiercely. He said something sharply, to which someone behind her replied.
Feeling the mounting tension like electricity snapping in the air, she tried to turn and see this new threat, but his arms didn’t give at all. She caught only a glimpse of white-hair and a long white robe. Whatever was being discussed enraged her captor and with a frightening growl he answered back. Several minutes of arguing ensued before he let out a shout this side of a roar.
His gaze came back to her and she didn’t like what she saw—anger, frustration, and something she didn’t think boded well for her, resignation.
Terrified, she shook her head, a wave of dread coursing through her. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, or what you want.”
His hands slid to her shoulders and he turned her around. With an arm encircling her waist and the length of his tall frame supporting her injured side, he moved them forward. She glanced up and saw their destination—a freestanding cell with metal bars. No wider than it was tall, the door folded back on its hinges as it awaited its first captive.
“Dear God, no!” She spun out of his arms and sprinted back the way they had come. She’d taken three maybe four steps before he caught her and pinned her against his hip, her feet a foot above the ground. Twisting and wriggling in his arms, she begged helplessly, “Please, don’t put me in that cage.”
He spoke to her again, the tone more guttural, with a sense of urgency and apparent frustration. She didn’t understand and had the nagging suspicion her fate had already been decided, but she had to try.
Lana shook her head vehemently, her nails digging into his arms, trying to make him understand, as she felt the hot glide of tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m not an animal, or a felon to be locked up. You must let me go before my people leave without me.”
He stared down at her, with what might have been regret shining in his beautiful eyes. It definitely wasn’t the joy from before, which gave her a glimmer of hope she’d gotten through. His head twisted, and he snapped angrily at someone again, but he didn’t veer from his goal and her hope evaporated.
Within a few strides he reached the cage. He had to duck to enter, bringing her—clawing, kicking, and screaming with every ounce of her strength—along with him.
Once inside, when he released her, his hands rose to her face, and his thumbs swept her wet cheeks.
“Please, I don’t want to be locked in here,” she pleaded tearfully. “Why can’t you let me go?”
He didn’t say anything else—what was the point?—but his features softened. Taking it for compassion, she dug her fingers into his massive forearms and tried once more, repeating with a sob, “Please! Don’t do this.”
He shot a terrifying scowl over her shoulder and snarled words which sounded enraged. With one last glance at her, a muscle jumping in his tightly clenched jaw, he dropped his hands and walked away. The door clanged loudly behind him, as he left her there—afraid, and utterly hopeless.
STANDING IN A SHADOWY corner of her prison, Lana tried to mark the passage of time. Darkness had fallen, and the planet’s twin moons had risen, but they took different paths across the alien sky which meant nothing to her. She gripped the bars of her cell tightly, trying to still her trembling hands while she watched the men move around the camp, starting cook fires, and preparing food.
While she observed the busy hive of activity, she found herself searching for a glimpse of her captor. Not once did she see him, even as one by one, the barbarians carried six of her crew into camp. Like her, they arrived in the arms of a half-naked male, most ass up and over a broad shoulder, and were brought directly to the cage and locked in.
Her cellmates were in various states of emotional distress, some sobbing uncontrollably, a few shaking and mute with fear. Not surprisingly, their security chief fought tooth and nail when hauled bodily into the cell. She’d also cursed a blue streak and leveled several creative threats at certain parts of her captor’s anatomy. As far as Lana could tell, she was the only one who hadn’t shed a tear. They all had something in common, however, each woman turned and looked in horror as the door slammed shut, ringing loudly in the heavy night air with an ominous sound of finality.
Having had time to absorb her surroundings, Lana attempted to comfort those she could. At the same time, she tried to tamp down the indignity of being caught first, and rather easily, considering the length of time which passed before Thora was brought in second, was humiliating.
Although shaken, drained from the heat, and exhausted after being hunted like prey, the others soon settled, huddling together at the back of the cage. Like Lana, a few couldn’t sit still, and joined her at the bars, watching and waiting for what would happen next.
“Do you think they plan to eat us?” This question was posed by Brenna, who was curled up in a ball on the dirt floor. Lana noticed she was rubbing her swollen ankle which had already turned purple.
“Are you sure nothing is broken?”
She glanced up, tears in her blue eyes. “What does it matter if we’re going to be dinner?”
A grunt of impatience came from Eryn who stood next to Lana. “I checked it out. A bad sprain is my guess.” The tall, redhead's gaze didn't stray from the aliens across the clearing. “And I don’t think we’re on the menu. From the leers our barbarian hosts keep sending our way, and considering the bulges tenting their loin cloths, I’d say we’re dessert.”
“Oh my God!” Brenna whispered.
“Stop scaring everyone with your rape and mayhem prophesies,” Lana hissed.
Vivid green eyes cut to her. “Should I blow smoke up their asses and tell them their invitations to tea are forthcoming? We’re all screwed—literally. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Look!” Thora called out suddenly, making them all jump. “They’ve caught the lieutenant.”
Every eye in the cage turned to watch as one of the big brutes carried their shipmate, a scientist like most of them, but also an officer, into camp the same way they’d all arrived, ass up over his shoulder.
“Oh, Eva,” Lana whispered. “I so hoped you’d gotten away.”
The fragile thread of optimism she’d clung to so desperately, that one of them had made it to the shuttle and escaped, frayed further.
“Only four remain,” Eryn murmured, her tone flat, as if un
affected by the events unfolding around her. Lana knew better. The security chief was a soldier first, a woman second. She wouldn’t let her tough exterior crack, not when she had a job to do—protect her crew and find a way to escape. “It’s dark. They’re either out there running scared, or safe on board the Odyssey, which means halfway to the next sector and away from this alien threat.”
“You think the captain left us here?” Brenna gasped.
“One, no matter who, ever outweighs the good of the many.” Eryn quietly quoted their leader’s motto. They'd all heard it often enough. They also knew it was an old movie quote, except their captain. When it was repeated now, no one spoke. Each of them had agreed upon signing onto the mission that success was imperative. If necessary, stragglers would be left behind. If she were in their place—captured, scared out of her mind, and caged by barbarians—Maggie Vohlmer, their captain, would expect her crew to follow the same directive.
No matter who...
“The Odyssey is gone.” Thora's prediction when it came sounded flat and undoubtedly echoed what they all were thinking.
“Long gone,” one of the others agreed.
On a broken sob, Brenna whispered, “If it means being killed quickly, I think I’d rather be eaten than raped by one of them. Have you seen the one with the braid?” she asked between panting breaths. “He’s two feet taller than I am, and at least two hundred pounds heavier. They’re all huge, any of them will rip me apart.”
“I think you’re safe from the really big one,” Thora commented quietly. “He brought Eryn in, and has been eying her ever since.”
“Shit.” This emphatically uttered response came from said barbarian’s unfortunate target.
They lapsed into silence again watching as several men moved to greet the newcomers. Talking in their guttural, weirdly melodic language, the black-haired giant slid Eva off his shoulder. Once on her feet, she whipped her tousled hair from her face and glanced around, in seconds spying the cage where they were held. Lana knew her friend well. They’d been close long before the mission began. Though Eva appeared calm outwardly, she was horrified, and like the rest of them beyond frightened.
Abruptly, one of the aliens broke away from the group, striding quickly in their direction.
“Oh my God! One is coming this way.”
Brenna’s panicked exclamation was unnecessary because every eye in the despised cage fixated on his approach. It was impossible not to. Because, while terrifying in sheer size and intimidating in bearing, he was also utterly gorgeous.
During their three-year exploration into deep space, Lana had seen remarkable things, and some pretty strange aliens, but she’d never seen such men as their captors before. Not creatures, beings, or entities, she referred to them as men because they bore such an uncanny resemblance to earth men. If she wandered into an International Basketball Association locker room, that is. Every one of them stood at least seven feet and sported six-packs, bulging biceps, and quads, a fact she didn’t have to strain to see thanks to the skimpy loincloths they wore. And they all had long dark hair. Some wore it braided, others had it tied with a band at the back of their neck, most wearing it loose, but no matter the style, it didn’t detract from how sleek it was, especially when unbound. Then it fell like a shiny curtain down their backs. Any other time, and place, she’d have been wet and panting—the long dry spell on board an all-female mission, partially to blame—but also because they were perfect male specimens.
No one had mentioned it aloud, but Lana would call them out as liars if they tried to deny the fact. She couldn’t, that’s for sure, especially when the one coming toward them was the same male who had captured her so readily, handled her struggling body without breaking a sweat, and smacked her butt as though it was routine, without batting one of his long silky black lashes.
Unable to stop staring, or so much as blink, she watched as he tossed his thick black mane over his shoulder, and laughed, his white teeth flashing in his darkly bearded face when Eva’s captor called out to him.
“Damn,” someone whispered softly.
“Yeah,” she replied under her breath. On a hotness scale of one to ten, he scored ninety-five, at least.
Despite the oppressive jungle heat, a chill ran down Lana’s spine. Not one for premonitions, this was one time she felt the portent of her future, especially when his eyes locked on her. Lana took a step back, reading his intent. But there was no escape, not with bars containing her on all sides, keeping her where he had put her hours earlier.
Gasps and cries of alarm rose around her when he released the locking mechanism on the cell door and threw it wide. The others shrank back, except Eryn, who—unbelievably brave or crazy, she couldn’t be sure which—moved in front of her in a protective stance. She didn’t flinch when he ducked his head and stepped inside.
Although roomy enough to hold four times their number, when he entered the air seemed to evaporate, his shoulders taking up every scintilla of space. Lana backed up further with Eryn keeping pace until she came up against the rear wall.
What happened next seemed to drag by as if time was at half speed. He lifted her six-foot-tall guardian by the waist as if she weighed no more than a feather pillow and set her down out of the way. Next, he extended his arm and encircled her wrist with long steely fingers. As he hauled her to him, his jaw tipped down, and his extraordinary eyes fixed on her as though they could penetrate her thoughts, her very soul.
“Let her go!” Brenna cried.
“You can’t take her, you monster,” exclaimed one of the others.
To Lana, who stood frozen staring up at this frightening yet gorgeous man, their protests muted, and they seemed to bounce off him without effect. Like her, he didn’t move, gazing back at her without blinking. After a moment, his lips tipped up on the ends, his grin becoming hungry. He turned and strode to the cell door with her in tow, stopping only to shift Eryn out of the way again when she blocked his path.
The door clanging shut behind them released Lana from her trance-like state. What was wrong with her to be taken in by a handsome face and some awesome muscles? No, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—so easily submit.
“No!” she repeated, this time aloud, and twisted her arm, trying to break the hold of his fingers on her wrist. When it didn’t work, she attempted prying them off with her fingers. This also had no effect, neither did smacking his arm.
Abruptly, her world tilted on end, as her feet left the ground. And, as had happened hours earlier, her breath left her lungs in a whoosh as he tossed her over his shoulder. Unlike in the forest, when she fought him, her injured thigh never took the brunt of his hard body.
When she pushed off his back, bucking and tossing her head, a part of her, spurred by her undersexed libido too long in hibernation, noticed the smoothness of his skin over hard muscle. It felt like satin encased steel beneath her hands, and she didn't miss how his loincloth, much skimpier in back, covered a firm, nicely curved ass. Her eyes flared at the tattoo curling around his right hip, half his taut butt cheek, and down the outer aspect of his thigh. The swirls and lines of black, red, and gold were of an abstract tribal design, and were a striking contrast to his tanned skin. Back home she’d be drooling over this man, but here in this alien world, she wanted no part of him—at least that’s what her brain insisted. Her body had other ideas.
The ridiculousness of her lust at such a time made her reaction worse. She kicked, screamed, and punched, until his hand clamped onto her upraised ass, and squeezed.
Her cries of outrage turned into an alarmed squeak.
He said something, whether to her or his brethren who stood by watching, she wasn’t sure until their chuckles followed in them as he crossed the camp. This really pissed her off.
“Put me down, you beast.”
She tried kicking again, but he had a heavy arm hooked around her thighs. When she used her fists, he hitched his step and sent her up in the air. Her belly leaving his shoulder seven-plus feet in the
air provoked her fear of heights, not to mention falling and breaking her neck. Once she landed with an oomph, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hung on.
Low, husky laughter from the onlookers filled her ears, which she ignored, as did he because he kept right on walking. When his step hitched again, she didn’t go airborne but began sliding feet first. Her legs slipped down his chest then his belly, which put her breasts level with his face. Several inches more and she found herself nose to nose with the beautiful barbarian, staring into incredible aquamarine eyes which no human possessed.
A flash of white drew her gaze to his mouth and his gleaming, perfectly straight teeth. She didn’t have such alignment after years in braces as a kid. How did an uncivilized alien, on an undeveloped jungle planet get perfect teeth?
She forgot her insane meanderings because she was sliding again, and a massive, smooth-skinned chest filled her entire field of vision as her feet hit the floor.
He said something, and she peeked up to see him staring down expectantly.
She shook her head. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t speak alien.” It was a nonsensical thing to say since he didn’t speak English either.
As she stared at him, she watched his eyes roam her face, taking in every detail, as though fascinated by her features. Let him, she decided. After all day in this heat, she was sweaty, and her hair which frizzed with the least humidity must be a sight. Her clothes were torn and dirty, and she probably stunk. No way could he find her attractive.
She returned his perusal, taking inventory of his human-like features, two eyes, and two ears, at least what she could see. He had lobes, but the rest was hidden by all his glorious hair—smooth, glossy, and impervious to hot and steamy conditions, evidently. One straight nose, a single mouth with full, soft-looking lips, and great teeth, but she’d already waxed poetic on those.
She continued her scrutiny, counting one chin, a beard nicely trimmed, with a strong jaw beneath it. Golden-brown skin covered broad shoulders like the rest of him. He had two flat nipples, same as most guys. His were a shade darker, so they stood out on his chest, and what a magnificent chest it was.
Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4) Page 3