by Godiva Glenn
“Now that you’re done torturing me, you wish to be kind?” He sneered and crossed his arms. He hadn’t bothered rising to greet her and remained a massive shadow in the furthest corner of his cell.
“It’s not torturing to extract the information I am owed from one of my own subjects. You made it torture when you chose not to comply. You chose to be disrespectful and forsake your oath and my authority,” she replied coolly.
“You never earned my respect, bitch.”
Chell clucked her tongue. “Childish name-calling doesn’t suit you.”
“Nothing I ever did suited you.”
There was never a truer statement. Once upon a time, Solomon had impressed her with his handsome looks and imposing stature. Yet beyond that, he was nothing but a fool. Power hungry from the start and incapable of hiding his dreams of grandeur. He’d bedded her once and even that had fallen short of expectations.
He was no more than a pretty face masking bitter entitlement.
“Regardless, your time here is coming to an end. I, for one, think Earth will suit your pathetic demeanor.”
“Because you are a coward.” He stood now and came as close as the chains around his ankles allowed. “You ignore my challenge.”
“Prisoners don’t have a right to challenge, first of all,” Chell said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
He chuckled under his breath. “You assume a lot. You would never win, and you don’t have the heart to kill me.”
She wanted to name those of his friends that she had already killed, but that would be cruel and unnecessary. There was no pride in doing what had to be done in the light of his coup. Some of the conspirators could not be released, even to Earth. Death was the respectful end.
Shaking her head, she spoke honestly. “No. I am not our bleeding-heart queen. I am the brute force of the purest bloodlines. I’ve considered ending your misery, entertaining as it is to me, but I am wise enough to see that your life is punishment enough.”
He grunted.
“Death would be too easy for one such as you, Solomon. But now you live in shame. Your own mother turned on you. And now I get to send you to Earth. Personally, I hope your new clan leader keeps you on a cute little leash and collar. Maybe with a bell.”
“You won’t live to see that,” he growled. “I won’t be taken down.”
She observed his frustration. Though he was angry at her, he didn’t seem particularly worried about his sentence, and never had been. Truthfully, this was part of why his imprisonment still lasted. His distant family on Earth had agreed to take him in and watch him, even though they didn’t know him, and that made her wonder.
She didn’t completely trust them, or how readily they accepted the responsibility of taking in a criminal. They were a small clan, as Earth clans tended to be, and by the name of the Steel Claw. Her own few connections on Earth said there was nothing suspicious about them, yet her gut told her to be cautious.
Perhaps it was paranoia, sneaking up on her. She looked him over, disdain clear on her face. “I’ll see you in a week.”
Mara yanked the chain leading Solomon by his wrists. Chell walked beside them, annoyed that what should have been a simple act of escorting a prisoner away had become a procession with many curious onlookers.
Today was the day they headed to Earth to introduce Solomon to his new keepers, and half of the Blue Mountain clan lined the sides of their path to the portal. In a way, she couldn’t fault them. He was the reason they had nearly gone to war. He had praised when Elric kidnapped and nearly killed Fianni, their now queen. The bears had come close to being annihilated by the dragons and their wolf allies.
Her clan, those here today and loyal to their heritage, did not tolerate hubris.
“Challenge,” Solomon shouted. “I demand a challenge.”
Mara pulled hard on the slack, making him trip. She growled, “Prisoners don’t get demands.”
Chell grinned. Her other cousins had protested when she’d decided that Mara would help her transport Solomon, but she knew that Mara could rouse her inner bear when necessary.
“Or is our so-called leader nothing more than a spoiled child, a weak bitch?” Solomon taunted.
The words caused a disturbing ripple through the crowd. A split-second of eyes looking the other way or flickering with suspicion, which she saw and analyzed.
Chell had never before concerned herself with the validity of her rule. Though she had been young when she took control from her parents, she had earned recognition through arduous work and diligence. It seemed her bears had forgotten, at least enough to be swayed, if only for less than a second.
She held up her fist and stopped walking. Mara pulled Solomon sharply enough that he fell, and he stayed down, chanting, “Challenge. Challenge.”
Chell eyed him. “Prisoners do not have a right to challenge. Traitors do not have a right to challenge. Yet you seek to make a spectacle of yourself.”
“You are afraid to fight me. That makes you unfit to lead,” he replied.
“Your time underground has not lessened the toxic pride you cling to, I see.”
He spat on the dirt. “I have earned my pride. What have you earned?”
She looked over her gathered clan and put herself in their position. Even though she had taken control, she hadn’t proved that she was fully recovered. It was no longer a matter of being rejected by males. Her bears needed her to show them that they could still rely on her.
“Have you eaten?” she asked. “It would not be a fair fight were you to collapse from hunger.”
“I am fueled by the power of my ancestors,” he replied, rising to his feet.
Mara’s concerned gaze met Chell’s. Her cousin wouldn’t speak now, wouldn’t interrupt her leader, but her expression spoke volumes.
There were times that they all forgot, even briefly, that beneath wisdom was physical dominance. The clan leader had to exercise both.
“Free him,” she said calmly. She raised her voice and addressed the onlookers. “The prisoner has, against logic and self-preservation, repeatedly demanded a challenge.”
Solomon rubbed his untethered wrists and smirked but said nothing. He ran a hand through his sandy hair, long and overgrown from his confinement. Mara shook her head and moved to one side.
“I have decided to entertain his request if only because it will be his final punishment before being carted to Earth where he will be managed as would a child.”
She backed up, placing considerable distance between herself and Solomon. They could duel in this form or perhaps he would shift into his bear, and either way she was prepared.
Ever since she’d been recovered from the small cage he’d locked her in, she’d spent hours each day training. She yanked off her boots and tossed them aside. Nothing would survive a shift, but her boots were the least easily replaced. She was picky about what made it on her feet.
Mara clapped her hands and growled, the sound loud enough to rustle the trees around them. That signal started the challenge, and Solomon wasted no time before dropping to his hands and allowing his bear form to rip through his clothing.
Roughly six-hundred pounds of pissed off bear charged Chell, but she remained in her human form long enough to leap to the side and dodge. She transformed mid-roll, releasing a thunderous growl as it completed. The instincts and urges that were usually white noise day to day now took control. Her bear was ready to play.
“You’ll regret this,” her bear warned Solomon. While her muzzle voiced only growls, their minds were linked in their primal form.
He roared and met her smaller bear form. They both rose on their back legs and soon grappled. She bit at his face and neck, and he did the same, but neither could get a solid hold.
Solomon’s anger shook through her. “You belong under me.”
It was tempting to call him out. Tell him his manhood was lacking. But the bear didn’t think that way. The bear was angered by his l
ack of honor more than anything else. His mouth opened to say more, and she struck, chomping down on the lower part of his muzzle and holding tight.
She relaxed her stance, effectively using the weight of her body to pull him down. He snapped shut, trapping her own muzzle as well. Blood tickled her tongue—his and hers—but she didn’t relent. She would rip his jaw off if she had to. It wouldn’t kill him. And though her bear wanted death, she wanted justice.
Solomon’s huge paws smacked at her, but his claws barely registered to her. They both went down, and she was on top. She clawed him back and lost the grip on his muzzle. She licked her lips and slapped him solidly, knocking him off balance. While he tried to stand, she latched onto his ear.
The scent of fear filled her nostrils. He tried to push her off, but she was rooted. Her teeth sank deep past his fur and into his flesh. He tasted foul, but she ignored it. Her throat vibrated, growling low and giving him a warning.
“Surrender.”
“I’d die first.”
“I won’t let you die.” She shook her head, worrying the wound. “I could tear this ear off, and I could tear your arms off, and you would still live. And I would let you live. Like that.”
She pushed a paw against his chest and yanked back. A little more pressure and he’d be missing half a face. The thought gave her a tingle of happiness. His looks were really all he had going for him.
“I yield,” he growled.
His paws stopped beating her sides and his body relaxed. She stood over him as he shifted back into his human form, naked and defeated. Her bear scented the air. Blood and humiliation wafted from him.
She took a deep breath and sent her own bear into the back of her mind. As her body shrank, she bent down and dragged her claws across Solomon’s human face.
He screamed and swore at her as he rolled on the ground, pitiful and coated with dirt.
She rose and observed her clan. Nothing but resolute appreciation met her now, and the only gazes on Solomon were ones of pity. Her body ached. While she’d held him down, he’d wailed on her ribs and chest. He’d broken skin in a few spots. Her poor breasts were swollen and one nipple nicked.
Blood trickled down her lips and she wiped her bleeding nose. It would heal. Everything would heal. But Solomon… she appraised his mangled left ear and the deep gashes across his cheek. Not all of his wounds would heal. No, he would have scars and the shame that came with them.
Mara came to her side. There was no hurry to shackle Solomon again. He was no threat.
“You showed restraint,” Mara said softly.
Chell nearly laughed. She tried to eat his face—literally. That wasn’t restraint. That was nature. Perhaps restraint had a hand in keeping him alive, perhaps not. She still believed that he was worse off waking each day and remembering that he’d lost.
She walked to her boots, each step shooting pain through her thighs. She glanced down and saw they were bruised.
“I need clothing,” she said. “I don’t believe we can arrive on Earth like this.”
“Of course…” Mara looked around. “I could gather spare clothing from the crowd, so we won’t miss our appointment at the portal, I suppose.”
Behind her, the clan spoke amongst themselves. She caught words of praise and joy. Respect. She glanced back and saw a few of the males admiring her exposed body, blood, scratches, curves, and all. Their appreciative stares flattered but didn’t impress her.
She didn’t want a male who needed proof of her worth, not after she’d already proved herself during the seven years she’d ruled.
“And go ahead and contact Gerri for me,” Chell added.
Chapter Four
Chell
Chell’s eyes narrowed as she looked around the suburban cul-de-sac. This was her first trip to Earth, and though she’d done her research, everything felt unreal now that she was experiencing it. From the crowded streets and tall buildings to the clothing she now wore, items donated for her stay, Earth had a different feel than Solara. Less magic, or maybe just of a peculiar level she didn’t sense.
“I don’t like this,” she murmured to Mara.
Mara leaned with her back against their borrowed truck. “It looks nice, I think. Probably too good for Solomon.”
Chell turned and eyed the prisoner in question, who sat in the back seat, blindfolded and cuffed. He could still hear, of course.
“According to Dagger, the Steel Claw clan occupies all of these houses, with the rest scattered through the city. This is supposedly the best place for keeping tabs on a trouble maker. Something called ‘neighborhood watch,’ if I recall.”
Mara pointed to the largest of the houses, which sat behind a yard filled with lush flowers. “I bet that’s Dagger’s. Though it’s hard to imagine an alpha gardening.”
Chell snorted. “Humans hire others to do such things, so I suppose the shifters are just as pampered.”
“They are expecting us, aren’t they? I rather thought they’d be outside.”
“I don’t understand it myself, but no matter. I’m ready to dispose of the garbage.” Chell opened the back door and tapped Solomon’s leg. “Out.”
“Blindfold?” he asked.
She reached out and pulled it up against his forehead. The cuts she’d given him had healed as expected. Thin lines scarred him, and any who saw them would know he’d been thoroughly bested.
“Welcome to your new life,” she mocked.
He slid from the backseat and groaned. “What about the cuffs?”
“Not yet.” She walked away, heading towards the large home which Mara had pointed out.
Solomon followed, watched by Mara.
The front door opened just as Chell’s feet hit the rock slabs paving the way through the bright green grass. A large shifter exited, and he immediately held his hand out as he met with Chell.
“Dagger?” she asked, reaching out and looking into his honey-brown eyes. With a name like Dagger, she’d expected him to appear more menacing. As it was, he had pleasant features that were together simply forgettable.
“The one and only.” He shook her hand firmly. “And you must be Chell. I must say, it’s a fine day when one gets to meet Solaran brethren.”
“Indeed. I’ve read about this planet and how our kind has adapted but never thought I’d see it in person.”
He looked past her at Mara and Solomon. “Shame it’s under these circumstances.”
She turned and stepped back as Mara pushed Solomon forward.
Dagger looked back at the house and whistled sharply. Two more shifters stepped forward through the doorway, though they hung back.
“He’s all yours, I suppose,” Mara said, watching Chell for confirmation.
“Are you certain you want this responsibility?” Chell asked. She met Dagger’s eyes. “He is likely to be a handful, and you’ll be held accountable for any other mistakes he may make.”
A weak smile grew on his face. “We can handle trouble. I’ve got extra clan members staying with me for now, until things get settled. I’m positive that in time, he’ll realize that he can get what he wants out of life without taking it from others.”
The words were promising, but the way he said it seemed disingenuous. Yet, if she didn’t hand Solomon over, she’d have to find another clan willing to take him. Suffice it to say, there weren’t many that were remotely interested in reforming a criminal.
She nodded to Mara, who tapped the key against Solomon’s cuffs, springing them open. Solomon stepped away from the women and glared at his new keeper but remained silent.
“The cuffs are Solaran tech. Strong enough to hold all but dragons. We could leave these with you, just in case,” Mara offered, holding them out.
“I don’t think so. We have our own methods but thank you.” Dagger replied. “Would you join us for lunch? I’d love to learn more about your planet, a firsthand recounting would be great.”
“I actually have a meeting I can’t miss. Maybe another time?
I’ll be in town for a small period.” She shifted on her feet and glanced at the truck. “We should get going, really. No sense in prolonging a prisoner delivery.”
Dagger grinned. “I get what you mean. A grizzly affair, eh?” He held out his hand to Mara. “Could I get your name before you two rush off?”
“Mara.”
They shook quickly and Dagger gave a small bow afterward. “Well, it was lovely to meet you both. Feel free to check back in any time before you leave, or if you want to have that lunch after all.”
Mara and Chell exchanged a glance before returning to the truck. Mara climbed behind the wheel, and they stayed silent until they were on the road.
“That was interesting,” Mara commented.
“I don’t think I’ve made the correct decision.”
“What other choice was there?”
Chell shrugged and stared out of her window. “I’m not sure. But my gut says that Dagger isn’t who he pretends to be.”
“Maybe that’s how the shifters here are.”
“I hope not.” Dagger’s body language seemed conflicted and cagey. The only thing that stopped Chell from making Mara turn around was the fact that Solomon could not make the same moves here as he had on Solara. The shifters here didn’t have the same power.
Mara turned on the radio, and Chell’s thoughts grew distant. She was surrounded by the unfamiliar. Was it paranoid to not trust Dagger? He hadn’t done anything concrete to warrant suspicion. Maybe the tense sensation of being out of her element was putting her on edge. But just in case…
“Perhaps you could spy on Solomon, at least a few days,” Chell said.
Mara nodded. “I guessed you were going to go there. I’ll find someone to drop me off nearby and I’ll be on it.” The vehicle slowed and Mara sighed. “But first, it looks like you may be a little late for your meeting with Gerri.”
“I hate the concept and existence of traffic,” Chell groaned.