Untamed Hunger

by Tiffany Roberts

  “I do not count,” Sekk’thi said.

  “Oh, you count. Just not for him.” Urgand grinned; for a moment, the heat in his eyes was reflected in Sekk’thi’s.

  Vrek’osh, what is going on here?

  “Are you bringing her here?” Samantha asked.

  “Yes, are you bringing her here?” Arcanthus echoed.

  “Can I answer a single damned question before you ask twenty more?” Drakkal demanded.

  Arcanthus turned to smirk at Samantha. “It must be that human Drakkal’s grown fond of.”

  Samantha’s brow furrowed. “Wait…the one who robbed him?”

  “A terran robbed Drakkal?” Urgand asked incredulously. “You’re never going to hear the end of it from Thargen, azhera.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Drakkal grumbled. “Now if you’ll all shut the fuck up—except for you Sam, you’re fine—I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

  Sam flashed him a toothy grin.

  For a few moments, Drakkal relished the quiet, though it didn’t do much to help him collect his thoughts.

  “It is the same terran,” he finally said. “I freed her from a zoo in the Gilded Sector a few weeks ago, and she robbed me once we got out.”

  “Took the clothes right off his back,” Arcanthus added, absently brushing his cybernetic fingers down Samantha’s hair.

  “So glad you’re here to add in the juicy details,” Drakkal muttered.

  “So far she sounds like the kind of female Thargen would appreciate,” said Razi.

  An unbridled, involuntary snarl rose from Drakkal’s chest, and the claws of his right hand gouged the table as tension seized his muscles. “She’s mine.”

  Five sets of wide eyes stared at Drakkal; he met each of his friend’s gazes one at a time.

  “Just want to make sure that’s clear from the outset,” he said, forcing his lips into a more neutral expression and dropping his hand onto his thigh. “Her name is Shay. She’s been struggling to make her way in the city.”

  “And she’s coming here?” Samantha asked. “Tonight?”

  “Yes. I offered her a job, and she accepted. She’s joining the security team.”

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Arcanthus leaned back and cocked his head to the side, eyebrows slanted down. “I thought we’re supposed to discuss personnel matters before any decisions are made?”

  “I only say that because I can’t trust you to make thoughtful decisions,” Drakkal replied.

  “That’s not fair at all, azhera. You’re bringing someone into our home, someone the rest of us don’t know, and—”

  Arcanthus snapped his mouth shut when Drakkal pointedly shifted his eyes toward Samantha.

  The sedhi looked at his mate, frowned, and drew in a deep breath before saying, “That was an entirely different situation.”

  Drakkal shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “Samantha’s your mate. Shay is mine.”

  Arcanthus lifted a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but he hesitated before any words came out. “All right. But let me point out, Drakkal, that Samantha didn’t rob me when we first met.”

  “Point noted, sedhi. Doesn’t change anything.”

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe this. Drak has a mate!” Samantha pushed her chair back and stood. “She’ll need a room…um, unless she’s staying with you?”

  Drakkal’s tongue slipped out and ran over his suddenly dry lips. His ears drooped. “She, uh…hasn’t exactly agreed to anything but the job, so far…”

  Sekk’thi leaned back in her chair and cackled. “A terran is giving you trouble, Drakkal?”

  “If only you knew,” he muttered.

  “I’ll get a room ready for her,” Sam said.

  Drakkal nodded and offered Samantha a gentle smile. “Is there anything extra she’ll need? She’s carrying a cub.”

  “Huh? A cub?”

  He lowered a hand to his stomach. “A…baby.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped open. “She’s… You… Already?”

  “You azhera have strange ways if you make younglings before accepting one another as mates,” Sekk’thi said.

  “I’m not the cub’s sire,” Drakkal said. The irritation creeping into his voice wasn’t because he was not the cub’s father, but because he wanted to be—whether tied by blood or not.

  “How far along is she?” Sam asked.

  Drakkal shook his head and shrugged. “Don’t know. Not really sure how to judge it with terrans.”

  Urgand sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing Arcanthus has had me studying terran medicine.”

  “You should be proud that you’re expanding your knowledge,” Arcanthus said.

  The vorgal narrowed his gaze on Arcanthus. “I believe I was promised a bonus in exchange for the extracurricular studies, boss.”

  “Isn’t the work itself a reward?”

  A mischievous light sparked in Urgand’s eyes, and he grinned. “I suppose it can be, considering the body parts I’ll get to see.”

  Arcanthus’s expression fell. Something sank in Drakkal’s stomach even as fire flared in his chest, accompanied by a tightness that threatened to seize his heart and lungs.

  “What?” Arc and Drak demanded in unison.

  Samantha cleared her throat and eased toward the door. “I’m…going to get that room ready now.” She hurried out of the room, and the door slid shut behind her.

  Sekk’thi shifted in her chair. There was a thump under the table, and Urgand jumped in his seat, legs bumping the table’s underside and rattling everything atop it. Without betraying any emotion on his face, Razi reached out with both hands and caught several gurosh bottles before they could topple over.

  Sekk’thi jabbed a finger at Urgand. “Behave. I will not step in if you provoke them.”

  “I was joking. Just didn’t realize it was in such poor taste until the words were out of my mouth,” Urgand said, scooting his chair away from the table—and from the end of Sekk’thi’s lashing tail. “Of course, everything will be in the capacity of a medical professional. What did you think, I’m just going to coach her through birth over a commlink?”

  Irrational anger, Drakkal told himself. There’s no logical thought behind this.

  The tightness and heat in his chest didn’t diminish.

  Arcanthus closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Why didn’t I consider this before I asked you to look into it, Urgand?”

  “You will both just have to get over your instincts so your females can be cared for,” Sekk’thi said, sweeping her gaze from Arcanthus to Drakkal before settling it on Urgand. “And you will need to keep their feelings in mind as you work.”

  “My patients are my priority,” Urgand said, frowning at Arcanthus and Drakkal, “but I understand. I’ll…choose my words with more care, since you’re all a bunch of oversensitive dicks.”

  Urgand’s comment drew chuckles from the people gathered around the table, even Arc and Drakkal. Drakkal’s irritation faded slowly.

  “Guess this means the game’s over,” Razi said, shattering the silence. “You all lose again.” He leaned forward and swept the credit chips piled beneath the board toward the others stacked neatly in front of him.

  Arcanthus turned his attention to the cren. “Slow down, Razi. Sam had the biggest section of the board. That means she gets the biggest portion of the pool.”

  Razi lifted a hand, palm toward the ceiling, and shrugged. “But she left the game. She forfeits.”

  “Well, none of us forfeited,” Arcanthus said.

  Razi arched a brow. “Do you really think you have to? Might as well save us all some time.”

  Arcanthus sighed and threw his hands up. “When you’re right, you’re right. All for the best, though”—he rose from his seat and slapped Drakkal on the shoulder—“since it’ll give me more time to help Drakkal look his best before he picks up his mate.”

  Drakkal leveled a skeptical gaze on Arcanthus. “Look my best, sedhi? I’m already
doing that. All day, every day. That’s why you can’t take your eyes off me.”

  Arcanthus caught his lower lip between his fangs as his center eye dipped, raking over Drakkal. “Old friend, it’s about time someone explained it to you—you look like something the cat dragged in.”

  “Fuck you, Arcanthus.”

  Twelve

  One bag. That was all it took to fit everything Shay owned—one measly bag. And the backpack wasn’t even full; it only held clothing, toiletries, and a few other essentials. Her weapons were on her belt, hidden beneath her oversized jacket, and her holocom was securely around her wrist. But she wasn’t going to let herself be depressed over it. This was her new beginning, wasn’t it? Everyone started somewhere. It’d only get better from here.

  For her baby, it had to get better.

  She hadn’t given Drakkal a specific time to pick her up when she’d called him earlier. It had been a hell of a wait, and she cursed at herself several times for not just saying pick me up in thirty minutes. It’s not like she’d needed time to pack or settle her affairs. The moment he’d messaged her to say he was on his way, she’d leapt off her chair, scooped up her backpack, and left the room for the last time without a backward glance.

  And now here she was, standing outside the rundown apartment building, anxiously awaiting Drakkal’s arrival.

  She hadn’t bothered telling that bastard Vrisk she was leaving. He was a big boy; he’d figure it out on his own. If he had any complaints, he could shove the credits he’d extorted from her right up his scaly asshole.

  Not that she thought he’d care. He was basically getting a month’s rent—or three weeks of rent, since the fucker didn’t seem to know how long a month was—for nothing, and he’d get some other desperate sucker in the room the moment he discovered she was gone. Hell, even if her room had been painted in blood, she doubted he’d ask any questions.

  Shay adjusted the backpack’s shoulder strap and frowned. She was familiar with feeling like her life didn’t matter to anyone. It’d been like that for her on Earth while she was working amongst drug lords, thieves, pimps, and mercenaries. But she had mattered once.

  And you threw it all away, didn’t you Shay?

  Her throat tightened, but she refused to let those feelings, those memories, suffocate her now. It wasn’t the place or the time.

  When will it be the time? When will it ever be?

  Shay shook her head and looked to her left, glancing at the people walking through the dark, alien-made canyon running between the nearby buildings. They all looked different, but she recognized kindred spirits—all these people were just trying to get by and live their lives.

  There was someone who claimed she mattered. Someone who was alive, someone who was coming for her right now. Why did that knowledge scare her a little?

  More than a little.

  Drakkal’s intensity scared the piss out of her. Plenty of guys had shown interest in her, but they’d always been drawn to nothing more than her body. Drakkal… He wanted Shay. All of her—mind, body, and soul.

  He wanted her as his mate.

  Why did that word seem more permanent than wife, more powerful than marriage?

  The air between Shay’s old building and the structure across the broad alley seemed suddenly alive, vibrating with a barely perceptible hum. Shay turned her head to see a hovercar descending between the buildings to her right, its lights bathing the otherwise dimly lit space with brilliant luminescence. Its sleek body was black, polished so highly that it reflected the lights from other hovercars high above. The people outside scurried away from the vehicle, a few of them casting it annoyed glares.

  The vehicle approached Shay slowly, hovering about a meter in the air, and eased to a smooth halt within a couple meters of her, where it sank closer to the ground. The drivers’ side door swung open, and Drakkal drew himself out.

  “Ready to go, kiraia?” he asked, his green eyes aglow with reflected light.

  A warm, comforting sensation chased away some of Shay’s anxiousness. Her baby shifted within her, giving a few swift little kicks.

  Yeah. I kind of like him, too, Baby.

  The corners of Shay’s mouth quirked up. “I’ve been ready. Where have you been?”

  Drakkal walked around the front of the hovercar to open the passenger side door. “Driving. In case you haven’t noticed, this city’s on the large side.”

  “Must have slipped my mind,” she replied as she moved to the passenger door, tilting her head back to look up at Drakkal.

  He was wearing black pants and a dark gray tank top that showed off his broad shoulders and the muscles of his arms—which were evident despite being covered in fur. His left arm ended several centimeters above his elbow; from that point down, it was a cybernetic prosthesis even more sleek than his car. It matched the size and proportions of his flesh and blood limb, but it was more graceful, run through in places with glowing red highlights.

  Drakkal smirked. “Hmm. Maybe you’re not a good fit for a security team, after all.”

  “Guess you’ll have to find a better use for me, then.”

  “I can think of a few,” he rumbled. His heated gaze moved over her, and his lips stretched wider. “Can even try some right now, if you’re not ready to be on our way.”

  Shay laughed even as her body responded to imagined scenarios his words sparked. “I guess I walked into that one.”

  “I did leave the door wide open for you.” He gestured to the interior of the hovercar. “Let’s see where it goes, kiraia.”

  Shay placed a hand on the door for support and eased herself down into the passenger seat. It wasn’t all that long ago that she could’ve climbed into a car without a second thought, but now every movement was a unique ordeal. Carrying a little extra person in her belly—a person who was pressing against internal organs, including her bladder—had definitely disrupted her grace. She buckled her harness and settled her pack on her lap.

  Drakkal closed the door once she was fully inside. Shay studied the interior as he circled to the driver’s side. The seats were big and supple, cradling her body in a loving, soothing embrace; it was easily the most comfortable seat she’d ever sat in. The hovercar’s controls looked both highly sophisticated and simplistic, with a few unfamiliar symbols here and there. In some ways it was like climbing into any hovercar back on Earth, but in others it was entirely new.

  She’d never been in a car this nice, for starters. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was comfortable.

  The vehicle swayed when Drakkal climbed into the driver’s seat. He closed his door, and the ambient noises from outside—the soft flit of hovercars high overhead, muted conversations, and a subtle but constant drone of unseen machinery—ended abruptly. There was only Shay and Drakkal now, and this felt like a moment from which there was no turning back. This was it.

  Drakkal strapped in before settling his hands on the controls—one on the wheel, one on the directional throttle. Screens and displays flashed on, the most central of which was a hologram of the vehicle from the outside, depicting the locations of nearby objects. The gentle hum of the vehicle’s antigrav engines pushed back the silence.

  “Say goodbye to this dump,” Drakkal said.

  Shay turned to look at the building through her window. She raised a hand and flipped it off.

  Drakkal glanced at her as he guided the hovercar into a smooth ascent. His eyes flicked to her extended middle finger. “What’s that?”

  Shay dropped her hand back into her lap. “What’s what? The finger?”

  “Yes. What does it mean?”

  She chuckled. “It means fuck off.”

  The vehicle cleared the top of the apartment complex, and Drakkal turned his attention forward, lips parting in a grin that displayed his wicked fangs.

  Those fangs definitely didn’t turn her on. Nope. Not…at…all.

  Shay shifted in her seat, refusing to squeeze her thighs together and give in to her body’s reaction
, refusing to acknowledge the sudden ache pulsing in her core. Her resistance was made more difficult when something brushed along the side of her calf. She glanced down to see the tip of Drakkal’s tail running slowly along her leg, just like it belonged there.

  She clenched her bag in one hand. She should’ve moved her leg, should’ve broken the contact with him…but she didn’t. She liked being touched. Liked his touch.

  “So, what’s kiraia mean?” she asked. “You’ve called me that a few times now.”

  “Kiraia are creatures from a planet I once called home. They are small, and very beautiful, but they are also dangerous predators.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his grin falling into something closer to a smirk. “They’re especially dangerous when provoked. Many hunters carry scars from underestimating a kiraia.”

  Something in her chest warmed, and her heart skipped a beat. That was…quite flattering. And wholly unexpected.

  Shay grinned. “Guess I’ve been taking it too easy on you, then.”

  “I’ll take anything you want to give, Shay, and ask for more when you’re done.”

  She shook her head and laughed. As her cheeks warmed, she scrunched her nose. “You naughty, naughty kitty.”

  Drakkal laughed, too; the sound was deep and rich, and only warmed her further. “You can keep calling me kitty only if you let me pretend they are also powerful, deadly animals.”

  Unable to help herself, she reached toward him and slowly ran her finger down his furred arm. “Some are,” she said in a husky voice.

  His ears perked, and his tail quickened. His scent filled the cab—and so did his presence. It would be so easy to forget about everything else and focus solely on the azhera beside her. So easy to accept what he was truly offering. To accept…him.

  “I promise you, kiraia, I put them all to shame,” he purred.

  This time, Shay did press her thighs together. He might as well have stroked her downstairs with how much his voice affected her.

  Shay forced her gaze away from him and returned her hand to her bag, doing her best to ignore the tail lingering against her leg.

  They spent the remainder of the journey in silence, though she was painfully aware of his presence throughout. She attempted to occupy herself by staring out the windows—which had been dark-tinted from the outside but were perfectly clear from within. Surprisingly, the tactic almost worked. She’d never seen the city like this before.