Dominance Fury

by Dominance Fury (lit)

  "Lord in heaven … timber!" Sydney attempted to flee the collapsing man, but her effort was futile. He fell on top of her, knocking her to the ground and landing crosswise over her back. Air whooshed from Sydney's lungs. She felt her ribcage bow against his crushing weight sure it would shatter but thankfully it didn't though her attempt suck in air resulted in nothing.

  "So much for breathing," she coughed out through gritted teeth. Holy crow, he was as heavy as a horse! Said horse, snorted, and oddly, the sound of it registered as familiar to Sydney. A thud had her staring at the back of another man's head, his red-brown mane in disarray, some of it strewn across her face. It smelled rather pleasant, considering it was attached to a big, sweaty barbarian. What an odd thing to be thinking about. Considering her imprisoned state, what she should've been thinking about was trying to escape.

  The weight pinning her suddenly rolled away, and then her gal pal was tugging at her to stand. She was shouting while pulling at Sydney, the rough tugging causing her to clumsily trip over her own feet. Managing a quick glance around as she regained her balance, Sydney saw men rushing through the bushes. They weren't dressed like the savages. Instead they wore more modern clothes, black trousers and boots, maroon-colored vests, uniforms that looked well-sewn. That was all Sydney had time to assess because as she made her escape with the woman, her gaze stalled on the two fallen barbarians. One of them was lifting his head. He looked directly toward her, and his eyes riveted to hers. The other began stirring, as well. He also locked his eyes with hers. Sydney's breath hitched. How was it possible for her to stare intensely at the two of them simultaneously? A gulped reminded her she'd forgotten to inhale and her constricting lungs protested. Even then the air she drew in was strained and shallow. Her body was too engrossed in quaking with amorous excitement to care about something as trivial as breathing. The pull she felt toward them was so staggering that Sydney could barely resist the incredible urge to yank herself from the warrior woman's grip and throw herself at them pleading take me, take me now! That of course would be quite insane. Then again everything about this situation was insane. People everywhere seemed to want a piece of her.

  Hmm …. She'd be more than willing to give those two hubba hunks a piece of her. A spontaneous, flirty grin formed on her mouth. She licked her lips. They answered with a pair of dazzling, sexy smiles of their own.

  Wow, wow, and double wow! Her libido began hip hopping all over the place, amazing because Sydney didn't even like the classic sound of hip hop music popular a few decades ago. An insanely bizarre notion of having sex with them popped into her thoughts. Talk about leaping from purity to prurience. Even weirder was that by merely looking at the two of them, Sydney was struck with the same sense of trust she had felt with the childhood playmates from her past. The sentiment had to be as imaginary as her playmates. It had to be … because they were imaginary…

  Weren't they?

  ?

  Chapter Eight

  Aurus ot Tijan pushed at Calem's back with one hand, his other hand gripping the wrist shackles that held the sentry's arms restrained behind his back. Arjim, led by Vean was in a similar predicament, as well. The brethren were directed through the arced opening of a domed structure, the pergola that was serving as a make-shift command post in Esotar while the regiment was in search of the renegade that had crashed through the atmosphere. Inside, Chief Loyal, Rjant ot Alea and the Pontiff Gre'aecha stood face to face. They were engaged in quiet conversation. Rjant abruptly stopped speaking and turned his head to look at them. By the expression on his face it was clear he was less than pleased.

  Much, much less than pleased.

  For what seemed like an agonizingly long period of time, he glared at them, saying nothing. He then sighed heavily. "Violation of article diz, tero dash fin, Leave Without Permission is a serious and punishable crime, warriors."

  He wasn't kidding. Ten phases in the Quadrants digging for silience power stones was the minimum sentence for LWOP. Of course Arjim and Calem already knew that, but the pair gawked at the Chief Loyal as if they were oblivious to what he was saying.

  "The Commander and I grow weary of this incessant rivalry, sentry." Rjant pressed his palms atop the table in front of him and leaned forward. He examined his half naked warriors covered only by the loin cloth remnants fashioned from the Tertian uniforms they'd torn. "Explain this negatively charged relationship the two of you seem to share."

  "Negatively charged," Aurus mumbled under his breath. "That's putting it mildly,"

  Vean snorted at the remark.

  The Chief fired a warning look at both of them. They composed themselves quickly, their postures becoming stilted, as they stood at attention, eyes straight forward.

  Rjant's gaze snapped back to Calem and Arjim. "Do either of you care to speak?"

  This is your fault crick-wad. Arjim gave Calem a mental shove.

  Shut your gas hole imbecile. Calem shoved back. The air is leaking out, and it's the only thing that's keeping your head from imploding.

  "Sentry," the Chief's voice became slightly louder when the pair returned only silence. They seemed to stare right through him as if he wasn't even there.

  I tried to keep your ungrateful hide from LeWop-ing you breg turd, Arjim growled mentally.

  Oh really? That wasn't a whirly bug whipping by me when we spotted her, Calem retorted. Though your breath smelled as bad as a decaying one.

  "Are we having issues warriors?" Rjant asked, his eyes narrowing into suspicion-filled slits as he studied them.

  Silence…

  "Somebody say something!" The Chief's patience was growing thin.

  Aurus cleared his throat. "Well …."

  "Not you sass ass," Rjant groused at his wisenheimer warrior. He returned his attention to Arjim and Calem, obviously annoyed. "What in hade's flames is distracting the two of you?"

  Silence…

  "That's an order sentry!" He finally bellowed having had enough of the insubordination. "Explain this erratic behavior!"

  No sooner had Rjant issued the command when he realized that--Divinities be dammed! They weren't going to obey him! What followed would've been completely uproarious if it hadn't been so blatantly defiant of a superior's command. His two warriors, Arjim ot Triadel and Calem ot Karisi, hands bound behind their backs were slamming against each other. As his She'mana Alea would say, they were belly fighting. For a moment the Chief Loyal could only stare, eyebrows raised, while listening to the grunts and groans and the shuffling sounds of men scuffling with one another. Equally, his sentry, Aurus and Vean stood nearby, appearing somewhat puzzled by the bout but also smirking with amusement. When the slamming turned into kick battling, and particularly when Arjim's mouth latched onto Calem's neck, and it became apparent he was trying to rip his opponent's windpipe out with his teeth, Rjant had no choice but to react. It was time to settle this! With the agility of a gobzian primate he leapt the portable desk he stood behind to intervene in this nonsense.

  Aurus and Vean were in closer proximity, and thank the stars just as large and strong. Yet despite being able to restrain the battling warriors, they couldn't pry Arjim's teeth from Calem's throat. At the moment it seemed the wiser choice to let him be rather than attempt to tear his teeth from the flesh he was crunching into. With the exception of the heavy breathing of full grown men entangled and struggling, the room went silent. Rjant stood only a hairsbreadth from them, watching the air rush in and out of Arjim's flaring nostrils and the feral expression on Calem's face as if daring his biting attacker to continue gnawing into him.

  "Proceed warrior, bite down harder," Rjant whispered the words, his lips close to Arjim's ear. He saw the shift of surprise in the two sets of anger-filled eyes that glared at each other, and the slight wincing of their tensed muscle. Arjim's jaw clamped harder. Both their brows became sweaty, and Rjant's mouth pressed into a discerning smirk. Arjim reacted as if he, too, was receiving as much pain as he was delivering, which because of the transdelta l
inking, he was. That was all Rjant needed to see. "I suspected as much."

  "Suspected?" Vean frowned.

  Ignoring him, Rjant continued to address his combative sentry, "Have you located her yet?"

  "Who?" Calem rasped through gritted teeth. To Arjim he growled, attempting not to move because the shit brain was biting harder and it was beginning to really fucking hurt!

  "Your Tina."

  "Is she the intruder we hunt?" Commander Tren ot Alea entered the tent. He was accompanied by three others, two females, and a male. One of the females was an Allegiance official, identifiable by the metallic orange starburst on her gray lapels. Her expression was marred with a grim, disdainful frown.

  "It would seem so," Rjant answered.

  He exchanged a knowing glance with his brethren Tren and then stepped back, giving him room to pace around the entanglement of sentrymen. Aurus and Vean who still had their arms wrapped around their respective charges were straining to hold them at bay. They gave the Commander imploring looks. All were sweating from the struggle. With a wave of his hand he signaled Aurus and Vean to release them. Both sentries did as they were told, standing at attention but nearby, just in case. Tren paused in front of his men, his gaze shifting from one to the other before coming to rest at the point of contact where Arjim's teeth met Calem's flesh. He shook his head slightly and scoffed at them.

  "Cease with the nonsense, Arjim." The Commander turned away and acknowledged the Pontiff Gre'aecha's presence with a nod. With his back still turned he continued, "There are more serious things to consider than chewing out your cousin's throat."

  He and his brethren Rjant were clearly exchanging mental notes, as the expressions on their faces revealed that the news was apparently not good.

  "The penalty for circumventing Angard and crossing into Galactic Allegiance territory .…"

  At Tren's words, terror struck Calem and Arjim to the core. Sobering instantly, Arjim pulled back, releasing his bite from his brethren's throat. Calem gasped a toiled breath and then swallowed hard, the gulp causing him to hack.

  Arjim shared the sensation and coughed a few times. He then cleared his throat before addressing Commander Tren. "Surely they wouldn't …," he began, croaking out the words between his own coughs.

  The woman from the Allegiance stepped forward. "When we find this intruder, he or she will be tested, and pray to your divinities or pixies or whatever entity it is you abide faith in, that the examination proves negative. Or else, Tertia will be under quarantine indefinitely."

  Arjim and Calem stiffened, angst clear in their tightened expressions. They looked at each other and then to their Commander hoping there was an alternative answer, yet knowing that with the Allegiance, generally there was none. In return, Tren pursed his lips as he stared at both the sentry. Other than that he showed little emotion.

  "These two have been sent by the ISDS." He indicated the others, officials from the Intergalactic System for Disease and Sickness Control, who still stood at the entrance.

  "Shardantin," the Commander deferred to the Allegiance official who had just spoken. "If they could prove that this intruder is their mate and was brought by spiritual divination…"

  "It has already been ordered, Commander," Shardantin interrupted, her voice quite gruff and assertive for such a scrawny woman. "And you know how the powers that be are about … about …"

  Her words were instantly hampered. The color drained from her face when she caught the ferocious glares of Arjim and Calem as she paced in front of them. She gulped. Finally she stiffened, her chin raising a notch as she regained her composure. "…about regulations," she stated firmly.

  Playing on her obvious fear, Calem growled low in his throat. With her brows lifting in surprise, Shardantin shrank back.

  "Oh my," she gulped and pressed her hand to her sternum, watching in obvious unease as Arjim drew himself up, his chest puffing dauntingly on an intake of air, his presence becoming large and ominous. He hovered over her. Shardantin's mouth dropped open, and she ran a shaky bronze hand through her glossy, purple hair, her face turning a tarnished silver color.

  "I think the Rizoniat woman fears us my brethren," Arjim tipped his head at a cocky angle, his tone threatening.

  "Enough!" Tren demanded. He leaned back against the table and folded his arms watching as Arjim and Calem stood at attention. He then turned his attention to Shardantin. "Shar, if this is true, if this female is their Tina, it is a bequest of our divinities. She shall be found free of Brit's Scorn. I am sure of it."

  Shardantin sighed as she cast unreadable eyes first at Calem and then Arjim. Her nose twitched and she blinked several times, a trait characteristic to the Rizoniat when thinking.

  "The orders …," she stated in a manner much more timid than before.

  "You'd be condemning a fertile female," Rjant added.

  "Fertile …." Shardantin frowned and blinked several more times. She jerked her head to one side as if shaking something off and then headed toward the opening in the pergola, but instead of leaving right away she stopped and turned around. "For the sake of a rare fertile female, I will see what I can do, but be warned, there could be other charges."

  The collective sigh from Calem and Arjim that followed the comment was clearly audible. It likely went unheard by Shardantin however, as she was already gone, as were the two ISDS medics who accompanied her.

  "Don't express your relief prematurely," Rjant spoke up. His thoughts were capture by Tren who turned and stared. All knew they were speaking to each other silently. After a few moments Rjant spoke aloud again.

  "Word has spread to the tribes of Esotar that," Rjant paused as he glanced toward Gre'aecha, "…perhaps I should let the Pontiff explain."

  All gazes fell to the tribe's spiritual leader. He remained silent for a moment, his impassive affectation reminding them of their own spiritual leader, the Pontiff Jer. The hood of the maroon, woven robe he wore still covered his head though it was pulled back to reveal his face, an indication he was at least neutral to the matters at hand. Had his hood been fully pulled forward and concealing his face then any concession they might be seeking would most likely fall on deaf ears.

  Gre'aecha formed the delta with his hands, and his breathing became rhythmic. His expression however, remained flat. "Che wis rutib on a'lejer…"

  As before, he spoke in a thick, ancient dialect that wasn't immediately recognizable by Calem and Arjim. They absorbed the phrase, silently repeating what was said, the words they'd learned during their schooling phases bouncing back and forth between their heads until the translation sank in.

  It is by oral word we have learned her ears are dead ….

  "Dead?" Calem asked.

  Arjim's brow furled as he thought about that for a moment. He nodded when he realized what likely happened. "Egress from her craft …."

  "Ka!" The Pontiff separated his hands and curled his fingers into a claw, the gesture clearly conveying that he was vexed about being interrupted. He pierced Calem and Arjim with a disapproving glower and then waited several moments emphasizing his warning before speaking again. "Jardia, che zees oftisa lerkitcha ….

  Gre'aecha spread his arms to gesture the air around them and they all listened carefully as he conveyed the story of the spirit bird's plight and how it gave birth to the goddess after it tumbled to the ground. When he was finished, the Pontiff pulled his hood forward to cover his face.

  "Release their restraints." Commander Tren indicated the cuffs around Arjim's and Calem's wrists. He waited until Aurus and Vean freed the two brethren before continuing. "Your Tina is under the protection of the She'amatina."

  Arjim rubbed the side of his head and winced. The now bruised, egg-sized lump there was reminder enough. He looked at the Commander. "We have complete confidence we can claim our Tina from amongst the female tribes."

  Tren sighed. "No doubt, warriors, but even still the virgins are on high alert. Their mating rituals have commenced and the brethren males are on
the prowl. The She'amatina are moving about quickly."

  "Again, Commander," Arjim implored. "Why is this an issue for us?"

  "It isn't, in regard to the mating rituals, but Shardantin is prepared to dispatch Allegiance liquidators to eliminate her if we don't find her first." Tren glanced at Gre'aecha. "However, the Cu'cjani Tribunal will not tolerate more intruders and are vowing to find her first and turn her over. The Pontiff informs me they have no concern about her condition when they do."

  "You mean dead or alive?" Calem mumbled, his throat tightening.

  For the first time since they were very small children the animosity between him and Arjim began to soften. They shared a mutual emotion--fear. Now that they had discovered that their woman still lived after so many tormenting phases of empty existence without her, the thought of having her ripped away from them again was horrifically unbearable.

  "We must find her quickly." Arjim gulped attempting to breathe against the angst causing his chest to tighten. He sensed the same in Calem.

  "It would be wise," Rjant agreed. "The Allegiance will exterminate your Tina without reservation if they locate her first. Likewise, the Tribunal of Esotar is angered at the intrusion on sacred ground, complicated by the rising fear of the tribes particularly with the Triconjugal hunts commencing. They fear their own Tina's lives will be at risk."

  "Is she safe with She'amatina?" Arjim asked.

  Rjant nodded. "The tribal virgins believe her to be divinity sent and a sacred blessing to their commune. They will protect her as much as they can from any males that attempt to take her."

  "Which brings another thing to my attention," Tren began. "Have you Flaunted?"

  Arjim opened his mouth to answer but decided otherwise and clamped it shut.

  Calem spoke in his place. "We have only just discovered she still lives, Commander."

  "You've linked and sought her, found her." Tren rubbed a palm across his chin as he considered his own comment. "I'm assuming you are in full Edification with her at the least?"