by Ruby Dixon
Her hand? Or the way she's taken control of the situation from me? I love both. "Exquisite."
A smile curls her lovely mouth and she slides her other hand underneath my cock, teasing my sac even as she strokes me again. "You made me come so I could do what you wanted. Does that hold true for you, I wonder?"
In this moment, I would give her anything…but I would give her anything, anyhow. "Do you want me to scream your name?" I manage to grit out, lost in her touch.
Veronica chuckles and shakes her head. "Not necessary. I know you want me and only me." Her hand pumps my shaft again, and then she circles the head with her fingertip. "But if you want to make me happy, you'll go with me and we'll go see if we can help Gren. That means going back to the tribe. That means no longer hiding."
I bare my teeth at her, trying to snarl. It's near impossible given that she's stroking and working my cock so well. How can I be mad at such blatant manipulation? I love it. "You're mine," is all I manage to say between panting. "Mine."
"Never said I wasn't," she tells me softly. "That's not the issue."
I can't stop myself from touching her. I slide my hands into her soft, wavy hair and hold her tight against me even as she pumps my length, her eyes bright. "Then…we will go," I pant. "But only…if you are truly mine. You…take my fires. Let me claim you…"
"I thought that's what I was doing right now," she says in the most alluring, playful voice I've ever heard. "I'm challenging you so you'll claim me, just like you said your females do."
And when she squeezes my shaft, I groan, losing all control. I fuck her closed hand, pressing my forehead against hers as I lose myself in the sensation of her touch, of knowing that she wants to be claimed by me. That she'll be taking my fires. My climax builds, sac tightening and my movements growing rougher as I pump into her grip. This female. My female. She's perfect.
Utterly perfect.
With a low cry, I rip myself from her grasp at the last moment and spill my seed into the snow. She watches me, breathless, her eyes shining as I stroke my cock, wringing out the last moments of pleasure. "I wish I could taste you," she tells me, and I shudder to hear that bold statement. It sends another surge through my cock, and I spurt a fresh load of seed onto the ground.
"Soon," I tell her thickly. "Once you have taken my fires."
"And then I'll be yours in every way?"
She has no idea just how right that statement is.
22
VERONICA
Even though Ashtar's a little grumpy about it, he doesn't protest when I announce to Zolaya that we'll be going back to the tribe with them. The blue alien seems amused, and I suspect he heard a bit of the “convincing” going on. He'd probably have to be deaf not to hear it, because I know we're not the quietest couple. Ashtar's pretty obvious about it, too, consistently grabbing me and dragging me against him to sniff me or kiss me or just manhandle me in fun and exciting ways. I don't mind it, strangely enough. It's like he has to remind himself that I'm with him and I'm not going anywhere.
My poor Ashtar. He's so convinced that someone's going to take me from him, or he's going to somehow lose me. I don't understand it, but I've never been a slave…well, not that I can remember. I can't imagine what he's been through or what's going on in his mind. All I can do is support him and show him that I'm here…and if he wants a few extra kisses and caresses, I certainly don't mind.
Actually fulfilling resonance is going to have to wait until we have some privacy. Since we're traveling with Zolaya, there's one tent. He offers to give it to us, but Ashtar refuses. I offer for all of us to sleep in the tent. Both men refuse. In the end, Zolaya takes the tent, I take most of the blankets, and sleep outside with Ashtar in his dragon form. There's no hanky-panky with Zolaya around…
And I miss it. A lot. I'm sure some of it is just my cootie, but I miss waking up with his face between my thighs. That's something a girl gets used to startlingly fast.
It takes two days of travel to return to the tribe, despite the fact we're moving as fast as we can. New snow slows us down, and both men are very conscious of my speed. I suggest that I try to mend Ashtar's other wing, but Ashtar shoots that idea down so forcefully I feel a little silly for even bringing it up. Healing does take a lot out of me, true, but they're acting like I'm some fragile flower. How will I ever get better at healing if no one lets me do it?
Of course, I'm outvoted by both men, and we end up walking back through the snowy hills and valleys that make up the endless icy landscape.
We don't head directly for the beach, either. As much as I'm eager to see the others once more, Zolaya steers us toward the direction of the cave that Gren and Willa are hiding out in. He keeps calling it something like a “hunter cave,” and it takes a bit of questioning before I realize that it's a cave that's been stocked with supplies for long-distance traveling hunters. Huh. That would have been handy to know about, considering I spent the last week drinking out of someone's cupped hands and sleeping in the snow. It doesn't matter, though. I enjoyed the time I spent with Ashtar. Strange how I actually miss the intimacy of surviving, just the two of us.
I don't miss the endless amounts of fish, though. Zolaya has trail rations, and he checks traps as we walk, providing more meat as we go. He takes time with every stop, explaining how to set snares and where to look for caches, and I realize that he's trying to teach us how to survive on our own, in case we leave again. Zolaya and Ashtar are content to chew on frozen bits of raw meat, but I make my dragon sear mine before I eat any of it. I'm not quite as into roughing it as everyone else. Not yet.
Right now, it's good to be a fire-breather's mate.
As we head up into the mountains, the trails become narrower and rockier. The beach is a green ribbon on the horizon, a reminder of how close and yet how far we are from the others. I wonder if they realized how close Willa and Gren were all this time? Or was that part of the plan? I think of Ashtar and how overwhelmingly protective he is of me. Maybe Gren picked this spot because he could take Willa away from the others and have her to himself…but she would know how to get back to the tribe if she needed to.
The fact that she's stayed while being so very close to the shore tells me that either Gren is a more fearsome captor than I thought…or there's something else going on. I find myself very curious about their situation…and I hope we're not too late to help Gren. I think of the beast-man and try to imagine what it'd be like to be mated to a guy like that (if Willa's even mated to him) versus a golden god like Ashtar.
I shudder at the thought. Gren is pretty much the opposite of Ashtar in every way, physically. Ashtar's so beautiful to look at it hurts. Gren…well, it hurts to look at him, but in an entirely different sort of manner.
We head up a steep mountain path, and as we do, Ashtar loops an arm around my waist, hauling me against him.
"I can walk it," I protest, because walking joined like this with him means we're moving much slower.
"You are perfect in my eyes, my fires," Ashtar says calmly, his cootie singing to me the moment he touches me. "But your feet are graceless blocks."
Up ahead of us, I can hear Zolaya suppressing a laugh.
"You suck," I tell him, though it's definitely not news to me. I know I'm clumsy as heck.
"No," my dragon murmurs, leaning closer to me. "I lick, and that is not going to happen until we are alone again."
I shiver, my nipples tightening against my tunic. Damn the man for distracting me.
"Ho," calls someone up ahead, and we look up. Just as we do, I lose my footing on the gravel-strewn path, and Ashtar calmly holds me steady, arm locked around me so I don't topple over the side of the damn mountain. Above us, one of the blue aliens—Hassen, I think—raises a hand in greeting and skids down a few steps, jogging toward where we approach.
Zolaya nods at him.
I hold tightly to Ashtar as the path slopes up steeply. It seems like Gren's picked the highest vantage point in the area. I half-expect a freaking
eagle to show up and demand we get out of its nest.
"How goes it?" Zolaya asks as Hassen approaches. "Does he yet live?"
"Barely," Hassen says with a shake of his head. "He still will not let anyone approach but his human female. His wounds are infected, I think, and his mind altered with fever. He is not cruel to her, but he is still dangerous to others." He shows one big arm and an ugly bite on it. "I tried to leave them some healing roots, but he attacked me the moment I came close."
Zolaya looks troubled, glancing back at us. Ashtar's holding me so tightly against him that I'm pretty sure he's squeezing the air out of my lungs. He doesn't like that we're here, that much is obvious. I put a bright smile on my face as if this is all normal and pat Ashtar's chest to reassure him. "It's all good, Ash. Promise."
"It does not sound good," he tells me sourly.
My sweet, flirty dragon has turned into a sourpuss at the thought of me getting hurt.
"I see you brought the healer," Hassen calls out, raising a hand in greeting to us. "This one might be, as my Mah-dee says, full of lost claws."
"A lost cause," I correct, doing my best not to laugh. It's really not a funny situation. It's not. It's only nerves that are making the laughter bubble in my throat. "And if I can help, I'd like to."
"He is not well," Hassen warns. "Even if he was, I do not think he would be reasonable." He looks to Ashtar. "Are you sure you wish to risk your mate like this?"
"Now hold the fuck up," I begin, but Ashtar squeezes my side.
"I do not wish to risk my mate at all," he says, loud enough to override my protests. "But she has a mind of her own and she wishes to do this."
Hassen grunts and crosses his arms over his chest. "Just like my Mah-dee. Headstrong and demanding." He gives Ashtar a wicked grin. "Those are the best kinds of mates, my friend. Fierce as snowcats in the furs."
"Standing right here," I chime in. "Can we save the dick-swingery for later? Let's focus on the sick guy, all right?" Men. Sheesh. "Does he attack everyone?"
"Everyone we have sent in," Hassen says, rubbing the bite on his forearm. "Even when we bring offerings of food and blankets, he howls and snarls like a frothing metlak. I am surprised he has not killed the female."
I'm not. In fact, it reminds me a bit of Ashtar and how his eyes went black when Zolaya approached. What if Gren's possessive like my dragon-man is, but just to a more extreme degree? "Did you send in a girl?"
"Eh?" Hassen frowns at me, and Zolaya looks thoughtful.
"You know, a chick. A woman. Liz or maybe Farli?"
Hassen snorts. "Their mates would not allow it."
"I do not blame them," Ashtar adds.
I poke his bare stomach with my finger. He's wearing only a loincloth today, since I couldn't convince him to wear more than that. The snow and the winds don't bother him, but a shirt does. Go figure. He told me once his people went around mostly naked because of the shifting, and he wasn't given much clothing as a slave for the same reason. To him, bare skin is as natural as breathing.
Me, I don't want all the other ladies creeping on my golden god. Maybe that's a little jealous and possessive, too, but I don't care. The cootie activates that chest-beating MINE part of your brain and makes it tricky to listen to reason. "Well, I'm hoping he's just a little extra protective right now. If another woman comes in, one that's already resonated, maybe I won't be seen as a threat to his relationship with Willa. He might be worried you're going to take her from him."
"He would be right," Zolaya says, exchanging glances with Hassen. "He should not have taken her."
Ashtar's grip tightens on my waist, and I know he's putting himself in Gren's place. "Regardless, he hasn't hurt her. Let's solve one problem at a time before we make more of them, all right? I'm going to go in." When Ashtar stiffens and a growl forms in his throat, I pat his chest. "And Ashtar's going to be right behind me to make sure I'm safe. We're both resonating up a storm, so we shouldn't read as a threat to him."
Hopefully.
Zolaya nods. "Do not put yourself in danger. If he cannot be saved, help Will-uh. Try to get her away from him."
"We'll see what we can do to handle the situation," I say firmly, not promising anything. Poor Gren. I think of Ashtar in his place. Ashtar, who remains deeply mistrustful of the others, convinced that they're going to steal me away from him. If he would get to know the others, I think he would like them. I think he could make friends. But if all he sees is the situation with Gren—and the others trying to tear Willa away from him—it's not going to do anything but reinforce his fears.
I have two goals once I go inside that cave: to heal Gren and, if Willa's safe and if she wants to stay with her alien friend, to make sure that happens.
23
VERONICA
Going first into a cave with a rabid beast-man might be the most pants-pissingly terrifying thing I've ever done. It doesn't hit me until we pass by Zolaya and Hassen, and the latter offers me his knife. I decline it, but the sight makes my heart start to hammer in my chest.
This might be really, really dumb.
"I do not like this," Ashtar says in a low voice as we approach the cave entrance. "I can smell your fear-scent."
"If I wasn't afraid, then you'd need to be worried. But we still need to do this." When he doesn't argue, I move forward to the mouth of the cave. It's surprisingly large and triangular, hidden between a few slate-y looking shelves of rock. I expect it to be a shallow cave, but to my surprise, the interior is dark and twisty, with a hint of light deep inside. A tunnel, then, that leads to the cave itself. Yippee.
Fear makes my skin prickle again, and Ashtar growls and steps in front of me, putting a hand on my arm. "Let me go first."
"No," I say quickly, pushing ahead before we scuffle like children on the narrow rocky ledge, jockeying for the front position. "If you go in first, that'll just freak him out. I need to go in first to reassure him that we're not here to harm him."
"I won't let him—"
"I know," I interrupt quickly. "I promise if it even seems like he's going to freak out, we'll back out of there. You have to promise me that you're not going to go dragon, though." I eye the cave. It's tall, but the inside looks narrow as heck. "There's no room, and I don't want you making the mountain collapse on you."
"How am I supposed to defend you if I cannot shift to my battle form?" He bites out, clearly frustrated with me.
I turn and pat his cheek. "You'll think of something, Ash, baby."
"Be sensible, Veronica."
I'm pretty sure the time for sensible was a few hours back. This is the time for heroes, my brain says. My brain is an idiot and watches too much TV. But I suck in a breath and go in anyhow, because I'm needed.
It's a long tunnel inside. I don't know if that makes things better or worse. Better, I suppose, because I'm not right in Gren's face the moment I step under the rocky overhang, but at the same time, hesitantly moving forward footstep by footstep gives me a lot of time to worry that I'm being an idiot and that my throat's going to be ripped out in the next minute or two.
I'm absurdly grateful for Ashtar's hand at the small of my back, and the constant hum of his cootie, reminding me that he's right beside me—and probably pissed as fuck, but he's not going to leave.
We go forward several feet in the darkness, and then there's a low, sonorous growl. It's not like when Ashtar gets irritated and growls at me. This one's far more menacing, more animalistic. And it seems to come from everywhere.
I stop. "Gren?" I call out, keeping my voice low and gentle. "My name's Veronica. I'm here with my mate, Ashtar. We're not coming to hurt you, or to try and take Willa away from you. I know you're wounded and we just want to help you. Can we come in?"
The growling doesn't cease. In fact, it gets louder and louder, and my skin prickles when an angry snarl comes out of nowhere and then goes silent. There's a murmur of voices, and then I hear footsteps in the dark. Ashtar steps in front of me, cautious.
A moment
later, a flickering torch appears in the darkness and I see Willa's dirty face, her hair nothing but a tangled, filthy tumble around her face. "You mean it?"
I'm so surprised to see her that it takes it a moment to register. "Which part?"
"The part where you're not going to take me from him?" She moves the torch, studying our faces. Willa doesn't look scared or abused. Dirty, yes. Suspicious, yes. Abused, no.
"We're here to see if we can help. That means healing, and it's all that it means. I promise."
Willa's eyes narrow. "You're not here to rescue me?"
"I guess that depends on if you want to be rescued," I tell her. "Ashtar took me away, and I guess that could be interpreted as 'stealing me,' except I have no desire to be rescued." I give her a rueful smile. "I'm not sure that the big blue guys agree, but I figure there's room enough on the planet for everyone to have differing opinions now and then."
Some of the tension eases from her body and the hunted look leaves her face. For a long moment, Willa just looks tired. She scrubs a hand down her face. "Please, please don't betray my trust."
"We won't," I reassure her. I take a step forward, my hands spread. "He's injured, isn't he?"
Her face crumples a little. "He's dying. I don't want him to die thinking he's still someone's captive. Please…"
"He won't," I promise her, and I mean it. I think of Ashtar, and how he'd feel at being betrayed. At being tied up like he was an animal. I can't imagine he'd trust anyone, either. Maybe poor Gren's had a raw deal ever since he landed here. I gaze at her, where she stands in the middle of the cave, blocking the path with her body. She hasn't shown any inclination to move, and I suspect she's still internally warring with the idea of trust. "I'm a healer, Willa. I can heal him…or at least, I can try. But I can't do it out here."
Willa hesitates a moment longer. Then, with a soft, "Please," she turns around and waves us deeper, inviting us in.
Before I can step forward, Ashtar puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. He takes the lead, moving in front of me, and doesn't ask permission. I suspect this is one of those arguments I won't win, so I reach forward and find his hand in the dark, squeeze it tight, and walk a few steps behind.