by K. A Knight
Carmen moves to head upstairs when Ryx grabs her arm. “Not so fast, little mate. We’re not going anywhere.”
“But—”
“I will be doing it,” he tells her with a glimmer in his eyes. “Meet me in my room in five minutes. I just need to...prepare.” He winks at her and takes off up the stairs.
“Is he for real?” she inquires, gesturing to where Ryx ran off.
“He is.” I stand up and walk over to her, placing my hands on her hips. “I’ve seen your body, you are unmarked. Are you sure you can handle the pain of the needle?”
A smug grin pulls at her lips. “Think I’m afraid of a little pain, Vrid? Don’t you know by now? I fucking love it. It makes me hot, turns me on. In fact, one of you might have to fuck me when it’s all done.”
My jaw drops at my mate’s sass. She smiles at me, then heads through the house and upstairs. I follow her, completely in awe that this is the female I get to keep for all time. I also follow her because her ass is fantastic.
“Which one is his?” she asks as we walk down the hallway.
“First one,” I tell her.
Without knocking, she turns the handle and heads inside. Ryx is all set up and ready for her. His tattoo bench has been brought out from his closet and his various inks are lined up on his nightstand.
“Lie down, Resha,” he commands, gesturing to the bench.
“Aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” she jokes, but her voice stutters a bit. She’s more nervous than she’s letting on.
“How about I eat you for dinner instead?” Carmen blushes again and climbs onto the table, lying on her back. Ryx pulls at the collar of the robe, moving it out of the way, then begins to clean her skin.
Carmen closes her eyes and clasps her hands on her belly as he readies her. Once clean, Ryx takes a series of markers and begins to draw on her white skin. Satisfied with his design, he grabs the tattoo machine and turns it on. Surprisingly, it only makes a small hum.
“Ready?” he asks her. She nods and licks her lips. “This will sting. Let me know if you need a break.”
With that, he touches the needle to her skin and begins to work his magic. He tattoos in a frenzy, wiping her skin, adding colour. Sweat coats his brow as he concentrates on his design. Before my eyes, a beautiful work of art comes to life. Carmen holds completely still as Ryx works on her chest. After most of an hour has passed, he stands up and wipes his head with the back of his hand.
“All done,” he declares with a grin.
Carmen sits up. “Can I see?”
“Be my guest,” Ryx responds, gesturing to the bathroom. Carmen practically runs inside.
“Wowwww,” she says, tugging at the robe to see the design in full. “It’s beautiful, Ryx. Thank you.”
“Welcome,” he replies.
I step in behind her to admire the work. Ryx adorned her skin just under her collarbones with an intricate design of woven colours that morph into a delicate chain. The sides meet in the center where a diamond shaped charm nestles just between her cleavage. Inside the charm is Klan Marix’s insignia, a bakket and a narkket crossed.
I rub my hands up and down her arms. “Now, no one will ever question to whom it is you belong, Carmen.”
Ryx steps in beside me. “You are marked as ours forever.”
She shivers and catches our gazes in the mirror. “When do I get to mark you guys?”
Ryx gives me a confused look.
“Don’t look at him like that!” she spits, turning to face us. “You marked me, it’s only fair that I mark you.”
“And what purpose would that serve, little mate?” Ryx questions.
“So that any foreign pussy that tries to ride your cocks—my cocks—will see my name on your body and run away as fast as she can before I shove my axe up her ass.”
Ryx and I share a look then burst out in laughter. Carmen joins in as I think about allowing her to mark me. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. Fuck, this girl has me wrapped around her little finger, and I didn’t even see it coming.
25
Carmen
For the rest of the day, I let the robe gape and my mates see their Klan mark on my chest. Every time they see their insignia tattooed into my skin, their eyes and horns darken, and I get pinned to whatever surface I’m near as they touch me, kiss me, and claim me as theirs. We don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend it together. They teach me how to cook some of the alien foods I’m not familiar with, and that night we share a meal. Afterwards, I curl up in their midst on the sofa as they clean their weapons and tease each other, but before I know it, I’m falling asleep.
When I wake up next, I’m in Kronk’s bed. He’s chained up next to me again. This time I don’t freak out, knowing not to wake him. I simply go back to sleep, and the next time I open my eyes, it’s morning. Kronk is already awake and watching me with a hungry look. “Morning, little mate,” he growls, his chained hand stroking down the robe to my thigh, so I wrap my leg around his waist and snuggle closer.
“Morning,” I reply with a yawn.
I lean closer and lick at his lips, unable to help myself. He groans in response, his nails digging into my skin, causing his restraints to rattle as he yanks me closer and devours my mouth. Soon I’m gasping and grinding against him, but my name is called from elsewhere, and then the scent of food and mylenum hits me. Realising how fucking hungry I am, I yank my head away with a smirk.
“Got to go!” I crawl from the bed as he laughs. His tail snakes out and up my robe to spank me as I tumble from the bed and rush from the room, taking the stairs two at a time. I almost collide into Vrid who is waiting for me with my mug. He steadies me with a grin, passing me the steaming cup. I hear the others getting up as I hurry to the sofa and curl up with my mug, almost groaning at the taste. I will never get used to how amazing it is.
When they all join me, they share a look and I arch my eyebrow. “Spit it out,” I finally say when I get frustrated with their knowing glances. “You got something to say, then say it, dammit.”
“Mate,” Xal rumbles, the promise of another punishment on his lips.
“We are taking you to the fighting arenas,” Ryx tells me. I freeze before I let out a squeal and jump to my feet.
“Really? Oh my God, let me get dressed!” I race away, back upstairs to my room where I grab some leather pants, a tight top, and some boots. I slip into them and am back downstairs before they have even moved. They laugh then go and get dressed, all trooping back down in their sash and usual black clothing, their weapons strapped on and at the ready. I almost drool at the sight of them together, they are the best kind of porn.
Sex or fighting…I debate between them, but when I realise I can fight first and have sex later, my mind is made up.
“Are you ready, little mate?” Kronk asks, looking down at me. I’m grinning and bouncing up and down like a crazy person, adrenaline coursing through my body with all the excitement. We haven’t really left the house since my ‘punishment’ or the night of ‘oh great orgasms,’ as I’m calling it. As much as I love my mates and all the sex, I need to get out and be free. I’m a butterfly...one who likes adventure and to get into trouble.
“Yes!” I squeal. I grab his hand and swing it back and forth, dragging him to the door as the rest of my mates laugh and watch us. Kronk explains that females—human mates from other Klans—are allowed to train so they can protect themselves. Here in Lorenthis, women are not safe, which I’ve learned the hard way. We are preyed upon. So the mated Klans allow us to train to learn to defend ourselves. Personally, I think it just turns them on to watch us fight.
I’m betting a lot of them have never trained professionally, so I can have my fun and go all ninja on their asses and impress my Klan.
“Kronkkkkk,” I whine when he stops moving, and I glare at him. “Come on, I want to kick some ass, and when I’m all done and fired up you can fuck me.” I bat my lashes as he gapes at me. I have that effect a
lot.
He barks out a laugh and wraps his tail around my thigh, yanking me closer until I stumble into his rock-solid chest and peer up at him. “Oh, little mate, I can’t wait to see you fight,” he purrs, his eyes turning solid black. “Watch you spray their blood, decimate their masses.” He shivers then and I grin, my mates are just as crazy as me.
I feel another body press against my back, another tail wrapping around me, but I don’t look away from Kronk’s eyes even as Ryx’s voice sounds right next to my ear. “Know that as you fight, your mates will all be hard and waiting in the stands, waiting for your win so we can fuck you.”
“Orgasms are like a gold star.” I nod. “Good way to motivate me.”
“Do you need motivation to cause mayhem?” Ryx teases.
“No, not really, but orgasms are always good. Keeps you healthy, one a day keeps the doctor away.”
Kronk shakes with laughter as he grips my hand, trying to mimic the way I hold his so often. “Then let’s get you your mayhem,” he tells me, while leading me outside into the fresh air and the bright sunlight.
He guides me through the maze of houses and roads until we head past where the claiming ceremony took place. We get a lot of looks as we walk around it, Klans stopping to watch us. I half expect a fight to break out since this is a city of warriors. Humans mill around, their heads down, hoping to stay unnoticed. One man actually stumbles into us. His eyes are wide with fright as he takes one look at my Klan, then runs away like the hounds of hell are on his heels. The only humans that come near us without fear are other mated females traveling with their own Klans.
The building I’m led to is floating in the air...or it looks like it is. A stone ramp extends up to the magical building, leading to a wide open archway. The steps are bigger than my whole body and I try to jump across them. Xal strides along next to me, helping me reach my goals, encouraging me with soft gestures. When we reach the archway, which towers into the sky, I stop and gawk from my vantage point.
“Welcome to the Olin training temple, warrior mate,” Xal announces beside me, the rest of my Klan at my back.
Down below, a football field-sized, long, flat area is filled with women in various stages of training and fighting. Dummies, targets, obstacle courses, and so much more spread out for their use. Seating areas for spectators—Klan mates—rise up from the flat lower level, circling around the entire stadium. My eyes travel up the rows of stairs and the seating towers into the open sky. Craning my head back, I grin at the open top as the sun shines down inside, heating it up.
“All these women are mated to a Klan?” I ask, as I scan the crowd. I notice some women have tiny horns, tails, and wings sprouting from their bodies. I make a mental note to ask my mates about this another time. Right now, I’m too excited about the prospect of fighting to care.
“Yes, little mate, they train here as little or as often as their mates allow them,” Vrid confirms. I glare up at him, grab my knife, and hold it to his family jewels. He simply grins. “Not you, of course, you pick when and how often.”
“That’s what I thought,” I concur, sheathing my knife and patting his chest before I skip down the ramp, heading straight to the training area. “Any rules? Sparring? Or can I do whatever I want?” I shout as I go, and they hurry to keep up.
“You can use any of the equipment, except that square in the right corner. That section is for sparring or fights, you have to be paired up at first to assess your skills, then you can fight as often as your partner wants to.”
I rub my hands together and turn to them. “Sit back and watch how badass your mate is, and remember all your dirty thoughts for later,” I tell them, before blowing a kiss. With excitement coursing through my veins, I jump over the barrier, my booted feet hitting the solid ground of the training area with a thunk. I take it all in again, debating what I want to do first. But when I feel my mates’ eyes on me, I decide I want to show off a little. They have proved to me how well they can fight. While I have shown them a little of what I can do, it’s not nearly enough. I want them to understand that I can handle myself, so I head straight for the square in the corner where two women are already fighting. They are slow and hesitant though, clearly new at it.
There is a woman there, an older one with arms bigger than my entire torso. They are crossed under her small, flat breasts, her body more muscle than anything else. She’s clearly the one in charge around here. Her brown hair is scraped back into a tight ponytail and her cold, dark eyes watch me as I approach. “Hi, Klan Marix, I want to fight.”
“Uh-huh,” she responds, looking me over. I start to get annoyed. I have never been one to back down, so when she dismisses me and looks away, I step closer. “Not today, cupcake, go play on the bars.”
“Listen up, cupcake, I’m fighting, so I suggest you find me a partner,” I snap.
“Or what?” She laughs, still not even looking at me.
I grab my knife and press it to her throat before she can even move. “Or I will find someone to fight with myself,” I whisper, placing more pressure on the knife. “I’m no fucking cupcake, I fight hard and dirty, now find me a partner. Please,” I add. Her eyes zero in on me, and before I know it, she’s laughing, clapping me on the shoulder.
“I like you, cupcake, alright, hang on.” She strides into the square then, her voice rising as she calls, “Enough, go and practice, you are both an embarrassment to your Klans!”
While she’s dressing them down, I gaze around at the women who are waiting and watching. My eyes catch on a familiar form—long, bright red hair with a body that has curves for days. Holy fucking fuck, it’s Shiloh! She’s not looking at me though, instead she’s hopping over the fence and towards…her Klan, I’m guessing. They grin at her, swooping her up as she laughs. That’s what keeps me here instead of going over, she seems happy. That’s good, I’m glad for her. She turns like she can feel my gaze, and her mouth drops open as she wiggles in their arms until she gets down and comes to the fence.
“Car?” she yells in question, her voice unsure as if she can’t believe it’s really me.
I wink, catching her bright green gaze and wave, but my new friend grabs my arm and yanks me into the square. “Okay, cupcake, fight to your heart’s content.”
I drag my eyes away from Shiloh and over to the skinny-looking woman opposite me. I force my mind onto the fight, not wanting to embarrass my Klan. All my training comes back as I take in my opponent. She doesn’t have a lot of strength, but I’m betting she’s fast. It will make it harder to catch her, so I need to wear her down or finish it fast.
“No weapons! First hit wins!” comes the big woman’s call, and we both nod, our eyes still lingering on each other.
I grin at her, making sure it’s big and crazy, and her eyes widen as she appears uncomfortable. Good. It will make her less likely to hit first.
“Ready, three, two, one!” she shouts, and I’m already moving, flying at her.
She gasps, stumbling back, hesitating for a moment, but that’s all I need. I kick out her legs, smashing my fist into her face as I go, and she’s down on the floor knocked out cold. I look at the big woman then with narrowed eyes as my defeated opponent’s Klan rushes over to come to her aid. “Finished testing me? How about you give me a real fighter?”
She laughs, slapping her leg. “Mal, get your ass in the square. New girl wants a proper fight, give her one.”
Mal, as it turns out, is a tall, blonde-haired girl with sparkling green eyes and a mean-looking face. She steps into the square and immediately takes her position with her feet apart, bouncing on her toes, ready. I can tell by her stance alone that this will be an actual fight and adrenaline courses through me. About fucking time.
“Three, two, one, go!” comes the yell again, indicating the start of our match. This girl wastes no time and is off quickly, moving like a whirlwind. It’s evident she’s practiced and has skills...but I’ve been training since I was a little girl...with my alien guards no less,
so I meet her headfirst. I duck under her punches, blocking more. We trade kicks and hits, but miss them all, moving as we go, faster and faster. Both of us are panting with sweat covering us as we try to be the first to land a hit.
She slips up, her guard lowering as she tries to sweep my feet from under me. I hop over her leg and ram my elbow into her face. I hear her nose crack as she falls to her knees with a scream, her Klan rushing in a moment later. I step back with a grin, looking at the big lady. “Who’s next?”
She laughs again, a genuine smile transforming her face. “Alright, cupcake. Weapons this time, only knives allowed. First blood wins. Jen, you are up!”
After Mal is dragged off the fighting square, a smaller woman steps into the ring, her body skinny as hell and covered from neck to toe in black leather. Her hair is dark and tied back from her face, which is pale and beautiful, covered in a smattering of freckles. She nods at me, grabbing two blades from her sides and holding them on either side of her body. I grab my own stolen blade, twirling it in the air with a grin, my eyes seeking out my mates in the stands. I find them and toss them a wink, staring as they all lean forward, their horns and eyes dark as they watch me.
Not wanting to be caught short while I’m gawking at my mates, I turn my attention back to Jen and her blades. “No deep hits or killing blows! Three, two, one, go!”
We are slower this time, both of us faking forward and then back before we start to circle each other, our blades shining in the light. I hear some cheers as a crowd has gathered to watch us, but I tune them out, knowing it can rupture my concentration. One look at Jen and I know a split second is all she needs to dart in and land a hit.
I move right and she moves left until we are facing off with each other in the same spots we started in. Fuck this. I pretend to throw my blade and she ducks, giving me the chance I need. I race forward, but she recovers quicker than I thought, striking out with both blades in a deadly arc. I duck and weave between them, getting under her guard, and slash mine across her face, leaving it there as we both freeze. Her eyes are wide as she reaches up and touches the blood welling there.