Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout

by Skhye Moncrief

  How could such a beautiful moment wreak so much havoc? Was that scenario even possible? He was magnificent. Incredible. So mine.

  Beefcake. With birthday candles atop. Flickering just for me.

  Welcome to the first day of your new life, Theo.

  Crazy.

  How could he make me forget duty like bolting from zero to light speed in one nanosecond? Must be his damned gearshift.

  His broad warm palms slid up my sides from my ass, all the way to my ribcage where he brushed my skin gently. “The bonding is complete, hu'vria,” he mumbled.

  Oh? I tilted my head, chin anchored in the soft mound of his soft pec, and watched his eyes shut.

  He sighed and snaked his arms around me with the comfort of acceptance.

  Awareness. Acknowledgement of our connection. Warm. Snug. Content. I snuggled my cheek into his beating heart.

  Sleep embraced us.

  I stretched out on my stomach upon the bed as I stirred, completely rested from my nap. Someone had covered most of me with the comforter. Flonn didn't seem like the type to let his buddies touch his babe though. !Dakos were rating more sweeter with time. Surely, Prall perceptions of them were all about the enemy. Not what I was witnessing.

  Where was my big hunk of burning love? Mmm. Yes. That's exactly what he was. On fire. Blazing. Grilling to savory perfection around the clock. And I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into him again. And again.

  Maybe I needed to see a shrink?

  The door swooshed.

  Enter Romeo in silver pants and black boots. How dashing. New large blue tattoo wrapping around one side of his waist. I shot him a smile.

  Those adorable dimples surfaced.

  So calming. I just could stare at him all day. Wait! He was enhanced to look this way. Right? And I've been enhanced by him. I shoved up in a cobra curl and wondered if my nude body would set him off again. We so needed to discuss a few things before I was drowning in my sex god's pheromones. I slid my legs beneath me to sit, cross-legged, wrapped in the bedding. “We need to talk, Flonn."

  His grin didn't let on he disagreed. He sat on the bed about a foot away.

  Thank goodness. I couldn't taste the steak dinner traveling via air molecules yet. I tried to focus on his attentive gaze. “Why did you change me?"

  His eyes pinched curiously. “Change you?"

  I waved a palm up and down my body. “I liked myself the way I was. And, by the way, it's rude to make a person think you feel she's ugly."

  His eyes widened with understanding. “I meant no insult by my nanites. They aren't mine to control. Merely something handed down from generation to generation from a man to his son.” His jaw paused, his mouth slightly agape as if he realized something. “The nanites have evolved over twelve centuries, hu'vria. I couldn't control them if I wanted to. I hold but a mere two centuries and seventeen years to my existence.” His mouth snapped shut, and slowly, ever-so-cautiously, he reached for my chin, carefully rubbing it between his thumb and index finger. “Hu'vria, you are so beautiful. Please do not be angered."

  I'd grown to accept the stupid changes of Kudzu hair and sparkly sheen. But he still needed a good ass-reaming. A little nervousness on his end only seemed fair. Throw in how his worry made him slightly more human. He could just wallow in his actions for awhile. “What does this word hu'vria mean?"

  He inhaled sharply and grew serious. “My soul."

  He calls me his soul? How insulting is it going to be for me to question that point? And why should I care about insulting him when he changed me? “Okay, Beefcake, why do you call me your soul?"

  His eyes pinched again in wonder as his head tilted slightly one direction. “Because you are. !Dakos mates are their souls."

  My intuition squeezed my heart into hard coiled epiphany in my gut.

  Time to listen up. Drum roll please... “What?"

  "Because of our augmentations. Through the centuries, we've altered our bodies so much that we must have something in the system to keep our goals in check. To balance our drive to exist with our need to merely experience. You are my soul. My goddess."

  Okay, way too many men were calling me a goddess these days.

  My brain cells started firing like there was no tomorrow.

  My gut snarled.

  "You seem confused,” Flonn noted.

  I shook my head and smiled. “No. Just ready to get dressed. I'm hungry. You didn't go eat without me. Did you?"

  He grinned a brilliant sparkling grin. “No. Not without my, hu'vria."

  Until I wrapped my brain around that title, I was going to need some major reflection time. That would have to wait until after I filled my belly. I donned my chastity suit. How oxy-moronic were the scraps of leather and chains labeled as a chastity suit given the thing promoted anything but chastity? I snorted and followed my big cyborg down the corridors.

  Cyborg. Yes. Not machine. Even though he fancied himself some aspect of soulless. And I'm his freaking soul? Does that function amplify his awareness of reality enough to think twice about forcing women into becoming sex slaves and killing their male relatives in the process? My God! They wiped out Prall's population simply because Prall males didn't want to share.

  Soul. I'm his soul. His conscience. Or his reminder to remember he's got a conscience. I can do that. Keep him under check. That is if he's got a wild hair to conquer or destroy civilizations.

  This whole soul thing was the icing on my beefcake. The wrapper that noted these warriors weren't machines. The Order of the Marshals would want to know my assessment. Whether the Prall brothers agreed or not. And what was all the steak dinner stuff about? My last meal before walking the proverbial plank! I so needed to get my shit together.

  Flonn led me into a rectangular space about half the size of a grocery store. Many metal tables filled the middle with one aisle left open down the middle and plenty of room for large cyborgs to walk around the perimeter. A few cyborgs looked up and watched us upon our entry.

  Probably hadn't seen many women lately. After all, this was a prison.

  "This way, hu'vria."

  I kept by his side, not touching him. More for the fear the touch would lead to a ravenous frenzy of sex. Wherever we stood. But I kept my sight on the cyborgs.

  Each had a tray with food. None wore shirts. Just tattoos of varying patterns. Geometric motifs. Nothing like the new tat on my mate. I slid my gaze to Flonn's latest decorative diversion.

  A castle? Weird. I don't recall seeing any linear lines before. Maybe I was just angry or thinking too much about life? Issues? My freaking enhancements!

  A castle is nice.

  Kind of protective. Even a sanctuary. Were castles commonplace on Treusch? Especially one that looked so much like something European and medieval back home. “Flonn?"

  He smiled and placed a hand at my lower back.

  So warm and caring. M'yote was wrong.

  "Yes, huv'ria?"

  I pointed at his tattoo. “This castle. Is it somewhere here on your planet?"

  "No, huv'ria. It's from yours."

  Holy shit. They've been to Earth. “What?” I almost stuttered.

  His gentle pressure at my lower back ushered me toward a stack of metal trays and a high counter with serving pans. “The nanites take a !Dakos warrior's idea of beauty and weave it into his mate. At the same time, they extract something from the mate's memories to sketch upon the !Dakos warrior's body. This is your mark, Theone. The mark of my soul.” He stopped me at the countertop, plopped a tray down before me, and pointed for me to help myself.

  Maybe I was too stunned at the new revelation to realize I could finally eat.

  Maybe.

  But he had to be marked by me? The irony almost set me off in a fit of laughter. I turned to speak to him, to ask another question, opened my mouth, but forgot the point.

  He touched a fingertip beneath my chin and smiled. “Let's eat, huv'ria. We can discuss my world when we sit at the table."

  The ma
n really shouldn't touch me. Everything just turns to mush in my body. My heart. My gut. My knees. My thoughts. It's even worse when he touches me and looks into my eyes with a thoughtful expression somewhere between adoration and happiness. I sidestepped and had enough sense about me to fill the compartments of my tray.

  Whatever's in the compartments is news to me though.

  We sat side-by-side with our backs distanced from the other watchful cyborgs.

  "Why do they stare at me?” I asked.

  "They are only curious.” He lifted a fork and pointed at a pile of green pieces of cooked vegetation on his tray. “These stems have little flavor. But most huv'rias prefer them to,” he pointed at a different section of his tray containing small bean-sized orange pieces in a thick glistening sauce, “the heat in Lox."

  There are more women here? “Where are the huv'rias?"

  He smiled gently. “In a few days, Theone, I'll take you to meet them. After Mornaw."

  "Mornaw?"

  "Our first days together. A time for growing and learning. The bonding time."

  A honeymoon? Crazy. I fly across the universe, get abducted by gorgeous computerized warriors, am claimed by one, told I'm his soul, and spend tons of time getting used to being pampered by him in exchange for great sex. In a prison of all places. And there are other women? “So, how many other women will I be fortunate enough to call my friends?"

  "Not many !Dakos warriors have mates with them here at the prison. We'd rather nurture our souls in places conducive to lifting a soul."

  If that didn't make sense, I'd probably think it was corny. But Flonn could lift me any time. Heart, soul, and body. How? How does he pull all those things off when we just met? It's like we're soul mates or something. Soul mates?

  My gut twisted.

  Maybe intuition was trying to tell me something. But I couldn't figure it out gazing at my big sexy !Dakos warrior while he chewed. “Why aren't there many mates here at the prison?"

  "The guards are young !Dakos warriors. Not many have proven they're ready for mating."

  But I'm mated to one. “You're too young?"

  He nodded. “According to many !Dakos warriors. But your eyes spoke to me. And I have proven myself enough to demand to have you as my mate. Or my father wouldn't have given you to me.” He pointed at the food on my tray. “I wouldn't recommend you eat the Lox,” he warned. “Maybe a small taste if you're adventurous."

  Oh no. You don't get to change the subject. How did he make a killing machine forget her goal? “Flonn, how do you keep me from thinking about anything but you?"

  He smiled, flashing those dimples at me. “Pheromones. Not my doing. Just a genetic aspect of being !Dakos that draws you to me and makes you mine."

  "How? I'm almost a little embarrassed to admit this. But you even taste good!"

  He chuckled slightly. “Eat something, and I will explain."

  Easy exchange. Oh well. Might as well try the spicy food. I'm a huge fan of Indian dishes. I ate a bite of Lox.

  Fire. Fire. Burning mouth. I leaned over and spat on the floor. And kept spitting.

  Finally, the heat eased enough I could hear chuckling around me again.

  Males. From across the room.

  "Ignore them, huv'ria. One bite is enough to learn what is good and what is bad. Am I correct?"

  Definitely a universal truth when one's mouth is numb from the burning. I nodded with my hand over mouth as if it worked to yank the last porcupine quills from my tongue.

  Flonn's brow twisted with worry. “Try this, Theone. It's sweet.” He thrust a bit of something that looked like yellow cheese at me.

  He'd been right before. Some sweet medicine couldn't hurt now. I bit down on the dense material.

  Very sweet. Destroying all trace of the painful needles. Flonn definitely was my survival specialist here on Treusch. I'd have to loiter in his castle. An easy task given he tasted like the scrumptious steak. “Flonn?"

  "Yes, huv'ria?"

  That word was growing on me. “Why do you taste like a steak and baked potato?"

  He chuckled. “I don't know what those are.” He leaned close enough to touch our noses together. “But it is said the female tastes her favorite foods in her mate. It's the pheromones."

  Well, it couldn't hurt to just put everything on the table. “What else do I need to know to explain this scary attraction between us?"

  He leaned very close again. Enough to ensure his whisper wasn't overheard by the cyborgs across the room. “My penis is augmented."

  No. “You're kidding. I guess it wouldn't hurt if they did that early on in your life and you just forgot the pain. But, really?"

  He nodded slowly. “Three choices beyond the standard form,” he said covertly avoiding choice words."

  Gods, does it vibrate? A woman would never leave the bed. Ever.

  He chuckled. “I can show you when we return to our quarters."

  "Promise?” I joked.

  He winked. “I'm good on my promises."

  My quiet gut told me I could count on him to do just that. “Good because I've got these yearnings."

  Flonn sat with his soul while she ate, knowing he needed to prove his huv'ria's innocence of participation in any sort of covert operation with M'yote to his father. More for love than her honor. Yet, once a !Dakos warrior's soul mate marked a warrior, there was no turning back.

  Father would never just accept her innocence. Still she was ripe for reproduction. Something !Dakos desperately needed. And she is mine, marked, as I am. The subject was over. My nanites could make her yearnings cease.

  Mine. The Council couldn't take her away. Although I had yet to reach the age to begin a Mate Quest, I'd worked my way up the ranks to earn the right to stay on this side of the Rift and assist in compound operations. To earn the right to claim a soul when I turned three hundred. And Father had granted that wish. Why? Whether to use Theone to attempt to fly The Savior through the Rift or to ensure others never crossed the inter-dimensional doorway is uncertain. Not because M'yote held himself to some ridiculous standard of ethics. Even though the Handler could cleanse our planet of the genetic kinks we created over a thousand years ago, repairing our mother world wouldn't matter once we'd found a way to transport females inter-dimensionally through the Rift. Every !Dakos warrior would probably depart for the New World.

  Father had to want Theone to fly the spacecraft through the tear in space. Nothing more. Only the Crellon slavers knew of the colony's location through the Rift. And for Father to have a son as her mate, even better for him. It mattered little that Father meant well for all !Dakos warriors. I would not allow them to risk her safety. I slid my gaze to my huv'ria who chewed quietly beside me.

  My soul is my responsibility.

  She smiled. “You're watching me."

  "It pleases me to watch you.” If all I needed to do was learn everything I could to fly her spacecraft, just to be able to pilot it myself and protect her from the stupidity of the Council, it was a small price to pay for a huv'ria.

  A soul.

  No man should have to live half a life.

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  Cybernetics... “deals with all forms of behavior in so far as they are regular, or determinate, or reproducible.” ~W. Ross Ashby

  * * * *

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eleven

  Flonn waved for me to sit in my pilot's seat on The Savior. Being here with him made my gut flop though. Intuition voicing a loud warning. I'd just have to take heed. “Yes?” I waited for him to explain why he'd brought me here. “Are we going somewhere? Maybe, you're taking me shopping for some new clothes? Right? I hate this outfit."

  A smile stretched his ribeye lips into a wicked smile.

  The wrong look for a country boy with Grecian hair. But I wasn't going to complain with enough distance between us to keep my thoughts on target.

  "Tell me how you pilot this spacecraft,” he said.

  How
could I talk my way out of revealing anything significant? “Why do you want to know?"

  "My father and the rest of the Council want to add the knowledge to our database."

  Oh no! If there's anything about Earth's location in this ship, Earth is screwed. Literally, out of its women. I sighed and studied the console's buttons and switches a few seconds.

  "Why don't you wish to cooperate?” he asked. “Do you owe someone else allegiance? Perhaps M'yote?"

  I'd just tell him like it is. “Look, the !Dakos are a conquering culture. I can't allow you to find my home world and strip it of anything you find valuable. And I'm talking about souls, Flonn. My home world is like my mother. The origin of my soul. You strip the planet of its souls, and what does that do to my planet?"

  He stared at me thoughtfully as if he processed the last statement.

  "I'm here. With you, Flonn. Fine. I understand that is final. But I can't be the cause of another planet's...” Better not point fingers.

  "So M'yote has told you many things? Perhaps he brought you here for more than the services you offered as a pilot.” He blinked even more thoughtfully.

  I couldn't change anything. Especially now. “Look, we're bonded as mates. I am yours. But I can't betray the goddess who gave me life. Surely you can understand that much. Surely you can embrace my simple wish to protect something as sacred as your huv'rias."

  "And what if my father and the Council decide to return you to Solvun because you refuse to cooperate?"

  Something inside me ached at the thought.

  Could I truly need Flonn on some cellular level because of those damned nanites? If so, I would have been bonded to him like I would be with blood to my were-mate. I studied Flonn's serious emerald eyes. “Flonn,” I draped a palm on the solid iron of his silver-cloaked thigh, “the thought of being separated from you makes me sick. Ill. Is this normal?"

  He smacked his lips like he didn't want to reply. “It is part of the bonding. To keep us needing each other. Together."