The last disturbing sound penetrated, and she remembered her living nightmare—they’d been abducted by barbarians. She sat up, her gaze sweeping her surroundings. A medical facility of some sort, monitors lined the walls, the screens flashing, annoying blips and beeps from alarms pervaded the room, and men wearing black-and-white tunics, who she assumed were medical staff, busily flitted about doing God knew what. Two rows of beds ran parallel to one another, each occupied by one of her crew, their eyes darting around in nervous confusion or mouths gaping at a tall alien standing at their bedside.
Directly across the way, Brenna stared at her, appearing stunned, her cheeks wet with tears. Lana lay in the cubicle next to her, a big male bent over her, speaking intently, although too low for Eryn to hear. And the entire time he held her hand gripped in one of his own while stroking her hair with the other.
“Ram, your female is awake.”
Movement beside her preceded a gentle touch on her shoulder. She looked up into the familiar gold eyes of her abductor from the woods. Inches away, he gazed down at her with what she thought might be concern then his lips twitched as if he would smile, and a dimple appeared in his darkly stubbled cheek.
“How are you feeling, little rebel?” The voice was the same as from the forest, but since she wasn’t running from him or trying to knee him in the balls, it sounded even and low, with a velvet-edged texture.
Stunned, she stared at him, realizing she understood his every word, like the man in black and white who had spoken first. He’d called her “his female”—a disturbing idea she’d deal with later after she got over the shock of being able to understand them both, plain as day.
“What’s happening? Why do I suddenly know your language?”
The doctor, medic, or whatever tapped his fingers on the side of his head, right above the temple. “Simple. We inserted a translating device into your frontal lobe.”
What bullshit! Far from simple, it was freakin’ complicated and totally unacceptable.
Eryn glanced at the others, their calm complacency flooring her. Didn’t they know they’d been tampered with?
Everything that had transpired—losing her freedom and the sole way to return to her ship, and now, not being the person she’d been two short days ago because of the alien device imbedded in her brain—became too much for her to endure. She freaked out.
Wildly, she struck out with both fists. Dimples, who stood leaning over her bedside, got it first when she landed a brilliant right hook to his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he swayed enough for her to dart past. This time, her own body thwarted her escape.
On shaky knees, her world spinning, Eryn staggered forward. To catch herself, she reached for the half-wall partition, the nearest sturdy surface. Hard and slick, without seams, it had no give and her hands couldn’t hold on.
She fell face-first onto the unforgiving floor, her stomach rolling while she struggled to keep from sobbing like Brenna. This show of weakness was unlike her, but with her frustration teetering on intolerable, she was unable to stop tears from welling up.
Strong hands curled around her upper arms and lifted her to her feet. When she swayed and the room started spinning and tilting on end, a long arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his body and steadying her before she fell on her face again.
“Foolish woman,” a low, irritated voice rumbled near her ear. “It was a minor procedure, but after teleporting and not eating hardly anything in two days, of course you would be weak and dizzy.”
“Let me go,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word.
“That isn’t going to happen, mate.”
“Mate?” Her head angled back, and she glared at the being towering over her. As she did, she pulled against his hold, to no avail. “You’re delusional,” she spat, “if you think I’ll mate with you in any way, shape, or form.”
“It is already decided. We are compatible.”
“Undecide it,” she demanded. “Can’t you get it through your thick head I don’t want to be here? I have a job, a mission, and people depending on me.”
His unusual eyes snapped with anger, yet his voice stayed calm while he spoke. “You have new people who are depending on you now. All of Primaria to be specific, which takes precedence over everything else.”
“Like hell!” she screamed, jerking hard against the arm encircling her, while she brought up a knee.
“Not again,” he roared, twisting, and blocking her shot.
“Need some help with your mate, Ram?” someone called out. “These females are so big and ferocious; I can see how you might.”
Laughter at his expense rippled around them as her captor growled. Clearly, his friend’s implication that he couldn’t control a “small” woman like herself, despite being six feet tall and every bit of one hundred sixty pounds, bruised his ego.
Eryn didn’t care about his wounded male pride, however, and continued to struggle.
Then, for the third time in—had it only been two days?—he scooped her up, draped her over his shoulder, and carried her out, words of advice and chuckles from the other men, following in their wake.
She kicked and fought against his hold until his giant hand once again came crashing down on her ass, delivering a sharp slap on each upraised cheek. “Be still,” he barked.
“I’ll stop fighting when you let us go,” she shot back, her voice shrill from outrage, not pain, although the swats had really stung. “And how dare you treat me like a child? I’m a free woman and demand my release.”
“Demand all you like, little rebel, but I won’t let you go, and you will get ten times what you just received unless you start doing what your mate tells you to do.”
“Never! I’ll fight you to my dying breath, asshole,” she shouted while pummeling his back with forceful blows he didn’t seem to feel. He was fully aware of them, however, because his response came swiftly with four more smacks landing with blistering heat on her vulnerable backside.
“You’ll have a hard time sitting until you realize who’s in charge here and that none of this is up to you.”
The sting of her cheeks, his intractable hold, and his calm, as he delivered on his promise of more, made her see this was a fight she couldn’t win. Bottoms up in a disgraceful position, on top of the day’s events had a hand in convincing her, too. Everything combined drained her strength, especially when dizziness continuing to plague her since waking from brain surgery. This last thought rattled around in her head for an instant longer… They’d done surgery on her brain! Holy fuck!
In surrender—although temporary while she regrouped and shored up her defenses—Eryn slumped over his shoulder, quiescent for the moment.
He grunted, whether from relief or approval she could be sure, but his broad hand took up residence on her sore, tingling behind, holding her securely in place as he began moving faster. When she didn’t resurrect her resistance in several steps, he gave her bottom a gentle squeeze. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but I’ll help you adjust to your new life.”
“Lucky me,” she grumbled beneath her breath.
“Yes,” he answered, surprising her with the acuity of his hearing. “You are very lucky because I intend to care for you well, little mate. There will be time to thank me more fully later, however.”
Sarcasm was lost on him, evidently.
His steps slowed, and she heard a soft whooshing. The sound repeated after he entered a darkened room.
“Lights up,” he ordered. They came on to reveal a moderate-size stateroom. “These are our quarters.” He carried her through the main living space and through another door. Eryn stiffened upon seeing the bed. Did he intend to mate with her now?
It came as a surprise when he bent and set her on her feet instead.
“I must shower then I have a meeting. You may rest while I attend to my business. Sleep will help with any residual effects from the teleportation and anesthesia.”
He crosse
d to a different door—what she assumed was a bathroom—glancing back after it whooshed open. Upon seeing she hadn’t moved from the spot where he set her down, he tipped his head toward the bed.
“Lie down, mate.” An order, given softly, but an order all the same. “And try to sleep. You’ll need your strength for the breeching, later.” After dropping this bombshell, he winked, which shocked her clear to her toes then he disappeared inside.
Slack-jawed, she stared after him. Breeching sounded ominous, and sexual. And what was the wink about? After all his talk of mating, it didn’t take much calculation to clue her in to his meaning.
“Fuck that,” she muttered. Spinning, she ran for the main room. No way was she mating, breeching, or anything else with this arrogant, bossy, dictatorial, spanking-obsessed alien. When the door didn’t slide open automatically, Eryn waved her hand over the sensor.
Nothing.
“Dammit!” She pressed both hands flat on the panel, trying with all her might to get it to budge even an inch. When it still wouldn’t move, she began to pace, her insides trembling. She wanted none of what he had to offer. How could she convince him he needed to let her go?
A noise from the bedroom sent her into a panic. Eyes darting around, she searched for a weapon, but the room was essentially bare. No knickknacks on the lone table, not a single what-not on the desk, and, with the lighting recessed, not so much as a lamp lay at hand to bash over his head.
“You must have trouble hearing, because I know I told you to get in bed,” boomed a deep voice behind her.
Startled, she jumped clear off the floor. If she’d been a cat, her claws would be embedded in the ceiling. In an effort to slow her thudding heart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. So caught up in her escape, she hadn’t heard him approach. How did such a big man move with such stealth?
When she glanced back, she realized he had changed into a form-fitting red tunic and black trousers that appeared custom-made for his large, muscular frame. Clean-shaven now, he’d also combed his hair into a sleek ponytail at the back of his neck. Clothed and groomed, he now appeared quite civilized. She couldn’t decide which was more attractive, this look, or the wild, carnal barbarian. Either way, the little moisture remaining in her mouth evaporated.
He was gorgeous. Too bad it went hand in hand with being a colossal jerk. And he didn’t change her opinion when he cocked one dark brow and began spouting more orders.
“Defying me will only cause more strife between us and earn you a long trip over my knee. I expect you to do what I say, and, right now, that means rest. If you can’t sleep, you need to lie down at least and let your body recover from the events of the past two days.”
Moving aside, he swept his arm toward the door, his stern expression a silent command he expected her to obey. Beyond his extended hand lay the bed. It looked inviting with the covers already pulled back—a nice touch on his part, especially since exhaustion was pulling at her. It made it difficult to think, something quite necessary with him as an opponent, and if she planned to find a way out of this mess.
Hesitantly, she started forward.
He didn’t say anything when she moved closer, although she noted his jaw had relaxed the tiniest bit. She angled sideways to pass him, careful not to brush up against him. She’d almost made it past when his thick forearm caught her at the waist and drew her against his hard body, his free hand curling around her neck, threading into her hair, and giving a firm tug. With her head tilted back, she met his gaze, noting the gold glimmered more than before.
“Your bravery and determination are admirable, little rebel, but you can’t win against me. I’d much rather we start out on amicable terms than at odds.”
“I’m in prison yet have committed no crime. Why would you think I’d be anything other than determined to escape this unacceptable situation and get back to my people and my duty?”
With a keen observant eye, he searched her face. This close, she noticed the gold intermingled with a hint of brown—toffee and a darker cocoa—framed by long black lashes. She could want him if they weren’t enemies because she found his easy command of her body, his strength, masculine beauty, and his dominance appealing somehow. When he inclined his head, she thought he meant to kiss her, and her breath caught in her throat, but he continued the conversation as though there hadn’t been a break.
“In your shoes, I would be determined, too. But I am a warrior. You and your crew are eight small females against two hundred men. Consider those odds while you plot your escape.” After releasing her hair, he slid the backs of his fingers lightly along her cheek then let her go and stepped back. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. I’ll bring food upon my return.”
When he exited, the sensor over the door changed from green to red, indicating he’d locked it behind him.
Left alone, her tensely held shoulders slumped, and she became aware of the fatigue in her muscles and, least of all, the tingling warmth in her paddled hind parts. She needed to stay focused, but exhaustion consumed her. Although it made the big jerk right, she agreed with him; she needed to rest. Dragging herself to his bed, she stubbornly flipped the covers back in place and climbed on top of them. She would try and rest for a bit, but not because he told her to.
Locked into her alien prison cell, what choice did she have?
* * *
Lost in her memories, Eryn’s tactile senses kicked in, causing her bottom to warm and tingle. The sensations so real, she wiggled in her chair.
A ripple of laughter in the room made her look up. The sea of smiling faces aimed her way sent heat rushing to her cheeks. “What’s funny? Did I miss something?”
“I think you zoned out on us for a bit,” one grinning girl told her.
“And from the grin on your face, it must have been a pleasant trip,” another said as she giggled. “We called your name at least three times.”
“Sorry.” Mortified at being caught in the midst of a naughty daydream, she was ready to call it a night, but had at least twenty minutes left in the class. She offered a lame excuse, instead. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“About this translator,” a serious-looking woman who appeared to be in her late thirties cut in. “Can you be sure zoning out isn’t a side effect of the implant? Or your lack of sleep? While unconscious, they could have done all sorts of tests and other unspeakable atrocities to your person.”
Eryn smiled ruefully. This woman’s distrust paralleled her own in the beginning. Still, an alliance had been formed between their people and a treaty signed.
“If you feel strongly about it or have serious doubts, then maybe, integration isn’t for you.”
The woman blinked in surprise. “But what did you think? Weren’t you suspicious? Until then you couldn’t even communicate with them.”
“True.” Although she didn’t admit it, she’d experienced every one of those worries, and was the worst of the bunch when it came to suspicion. It took all her willpower not to rub her hands over her scalp, searching for a bump or scar, or lump under her skin where a chip had been embedded, and, although she’d done so at least a thousand times, she’d never found a thing. Other than a pinprick in the bend of her arm when she had awoken, outwardly she’d seemed the same, except she could speak and understand Ram’s language.
He’d called it a minor procedure; as if brain surgery was no more serious than an ingrown toenail. And here she sat, a few months later, purporting the exact same nonchalance when the idea they’d been rooting around in her head without her permission had once left her trembling with horror.
“The difference is you have the benefit of both knowledge and consent. As captives, we had neither, so our suspicions were driven by anxiety and fear of the unknown. We had laid eyes on these aliens only the day before and had rather unorthodox introductions.”
“You mean they claimed you like barbarians, chasing you down and flinging you over their shoulder.” This came from a dreamy-eyed honey blo
nde sitting in front huddled up with a platinum blonde with similar stars in her eyes.
“And spanked you when you didn’t obey, isn’t that right?” A hush fell over the group for a moment until the two Barbie doll look-alikes began to giggle.
Times like this made Eryn want to pull her hair out. What happened to their concern for the common good or gratitude for the opportunity to get off this dying planet ahead of the next major quake, flood, or other natural disaster struck? They just wanted to know about sex and discipline, but she supposed their openness to both boded well for the success of the treaty.
“I have another question about this brain surgery,” the forty-something woman began again.
“I’m not worried about a silly translator,” a bubbly redhead called out over the noise. “I want to hear about the size of their…” She gestured with her hands. “Is it proportionate to the rest of them?”
More laughter rippled through the group, most of it nervous, and twenty-five pairs of curious eyes shifted to her.
“Did it happen to you?” the girl added before she could reply.
“Do tell us, please,” urged yet another, obviously titillated. “Did any of those handsome hunks take you over his knee and paddle your bare bottom?”
Although the question came up every time, Eryn hadn’t learned how to control the flush that heated her cheeks. As usual, when embarrassed, her face scorched, and she could tell her fair skin had become bright red like a stop sign.
“One did,” the animated woman accused, barely able to contain her excitement. “Was it bad? I mean, it had to hurt, but did he make it all better afterward?”
Titters of laughter swept through most of the group, a few frowning or rolling their eyes in annoyance.
“I don’t go into detail about my personal experience,” Eryn began, giving her pat answer.
“Why not?” Devon, an irate twenty-something demanded. She knew her from two previous sessions. Outspoken and chatty, it was surprising she hadn’t monopolized the questions as she had in the past. “You’re asking us to put up with this bullshit and won’t elaborate?”
His Rebellious Mate (Primarian Mates Book 3) Page 7