Authors: J.J. Lore
“We
aren’t devils.” Bynton took a step away and jammed his hands on his hips,
throwing his broad chest and thick arms into perfect display. “We are decorated
warriors of a respected house, not uncivilized cannibals.”
She
would have shrugged, but the other male, Mateen, still held her close. His
broad hand flexed against her back.
“In
the interest of civility, perhaps we might share a meal,” he said as he slid
his other hand down her arm to stroke along her hand, his expression distracted
like he wasn’t sure what he was doing.
“After you bathe.”
Why
she should be embarrassed by her unkempt state, she didn’t know. Staying clean
was of much less importance than the basics of survival, but a quick glance
around her revealed this room was very tidy, and the men within it were equally
hygienic. She certainly wasn’t going to disrobe in front of them. “These are
the only clothes I have.”
“We
have replacements,”
Bynton
offered quickly. He
stepped back to her side and again plucked at her cowl. “There’s a cleansing
module just through that door. I can show you—”
“Show
me nothing. I’m not going anywhere but away.” It was weak defiance, further
degraded by the sudden rumble from her empty belly. So these devils knew she
was dirty and hungry. So what?
“You
need to eat before you return to that place,” Mateen declared in a decisive
tone. She saw Bynton peered at his friend with a frown. “We will replace your
garments as well.”
He
released his hold on her and stepped away. Bynton edged closer, the warmth of
his body apparent to her, and for a bare second she wanted to close her eyes
and lean against him, feel something solid in her world once again.
So strange and dangerous.
“I
will prepare a meal while
Byn
assists you.” With
that, Mateen turned away and left the room through a door she hadn’t noticed,
leaving it ajar in his wake.
“Come
this way,” Bynton prompted her, and she took a few stumbling steps in the
direction he indicated before sense restored to her.
“Why
should I? You captured me, frightened me, and now I’m supposed to bathe in this
place I don’t even know? Eat with you?”
Bynton’s
expression
softened,
and he caught her hand in a surprisingly gentle
grasp. “This was a traumatic way to meet, but we had no choice in the matter.
There’s no reason for you to trust me or Mat, but we truly mean you no harm.
The opposite is true. Our intentions are only the best where you are
concerned.”
They
were kidnappers, scary beasts with horns and huge bodies. She couldn’t escape.
Rather than argue, she relented and walked towards the room he’d shown her. Perhaps
they wanted her clean and fed before they tortured her. At least she’d be
presentable at her execution.
****
Bynton
was filled with a potent combination of delight and despair. Lovely No was
naked behind a thin translucent barrier, and the humid air of the hygiene
module was filled with her scent. Touching her, however briefly, had cemented
his certainty she was the correct woman to complete his bond with Mateen, but
she might refuse them, might prefer the known, if perilous, ways of the camp to
the mystery of life with
Alphan
bondmates. He knew
Mateen was counting on him to convince her, charm her, because his partner felt
he was too gruff to make that connection. It was a vital task.
Bynton
already knew he’d be pitched into depression if she
fled them.
She
moved, and he watched her shadowed form. She’d caught on to the basics of the
functions of the room, and he’d left her for a moment so she could disrobe,
even though he longed to be the one who pulled her soiled clothes from her
body. The privilege of seeing her beauty was something to be shared with his
bondmate
, however, something to be arrived at by mutual
consent.
“May
I help you with anything, No?”
His
question must have caught her by surprise because she let out a squeal and
slipped in the shower. He saw her body topple, and without hesitation he rushed
to the barrier, swinging it aside to find her crumpled on the wet floor, a
small, damp towel clutched to cover her as she stared up at him with wide,
pleading eyes. Long wet hair slithered over his skin as he gathered her up, her
skin cool so cool and damp against his own.
“Mateen!”
His
summons was quickly answered by the other man who crowded into the shower
module, his face set in a stern scowl as he evaluated. “What happened?”
“I
startled No, and she fell.”
“Why
are you calling me No?” The young woman’s voice
quavered,
and she shook as Mateen slowly flexed her limbs. She winced when he reached her
right elbow.
“That’s
what you said your name was.”
“No.
I mean, no isn’t my name.”
Bynton
lifted her carefully at Mateen’s nod and carried her to the bed as the other
man collected some dry towels. He reached for one and rubbed at her hair as
Mateen inspected her elbow more closely, running his fingertips along the joint
and gently bending her arm. It was an injury neither of them would have noticed
in training or battle, but his stomach knotted with worry for her regardless.
She was so much smaller and more delicate than they were, and despite his
growing compulsion to engage in intercourse with her, part of him wondered how
she might be able to accommodate him or Mateen in their aroused states.
Without
a word, Mateen slid from the bed and exited the room, leaving Bynton to
continue to dry her. She modestly pulled the wet towel over her torso until he
draped a dry one over her and tugged the damp one free. She raised her eyebrows
and sat up, tucking the covering around herself as he applied himself to her
slender legs.
So curvy and smooth, so unlike his own.
They were fascinating, as was her scent, a haunting mixture of musk and
sweetness he’d never encountered before. That wasn’t a surprise. He’d rarely
encountered women of his own species, and she was his first human female. Just
as he was considering nosing along her calf to gather more of her in his nostrils,
his bondmate reappeared with a cold pack, which he pressed to her injury.
“It’s
a minor contusion,” Mateen said as he frowned at her, glancing over her exposed
arms and legs. Tiny bones showed under the skin of her shoulders and knees.
“She’s undernourished.”
“That’s
a good reason to eat now.” Bynton smiled at her, pleased she was practically
unharmed. Perhaps they would eat here in the bed, share the dishes and learn
more about each other in a less formal environment.
“What
is your name?”
Mateen’s
question sounded harsher than
he probably meant, and she jumped.
“Avanelle Rein, of the, ah, formerly of
Puerta
Santigo
.”
Her little
flash of pride, her attempt to emulate their own titles was a good sign she was
growing more comfortable with them.
“How
old are you?”
Mateen
sounded like a commander taking on a new trooper he hadn’t requested, and
Bynton tried to send him a message to ease back by eyeing him. Mateen caught it
and frowned.
“About
twenty-five, I think.” She swallowed and curved her legs back, edging away
towards the headboard. Having two kilo-heavy males looming over her was
probably not the best way to get her to relax, even though both he and his
bondmate
wanted to come in much closer contact with her
soon.
“What
do you want from me? Where am I? Where are my clothes?”
Bynton
preferred not to mention what Mateen had done with her ragged garments as soon
as she’d stepped in the shower. They had probably been the only coverings
Avanelle possessed and were now decomposing in the cycler.
“You
are on our ship. We have a proposition for you.” Mateen crawled to her side and
pushed the dropped cold pack back to her elbow. A blunt
force,
that
was his bondmate.
Avanelle
stared up at him, her hair sliding over her shoulders as she clutched the towel
closer, the bottom edge riding up to the tops of her thighs. From his position
near the foot of the bed,
Byn
could nearly see
between her legs, just a dark shadow at this point, but after months of
studying diagrams, he wanted to see the real thing. His breathing accelerated,
and he leaned forward. A glimpse of pink, then Mateen’s voice interrupted his
surveillance.
“We
are bondmates.” Mateen gestured at
Byn
even as he
held Avanelle’s gaze. She frowned and shook her head, clearly not understanding
the term.
“We
chose each other, to train with, fight beside,
share
both pain and reward. We are loyal to each other unto death.”
Byn
tried to explain a complicated relationship as simply
as possible.
Mateen
harrumphed and
continued down his direct path toward the goal of winning Avanelle. “We have
reached the appropriate ranks and won enough honors to garner additional
rewards in our household. One of which is to take—”
“We
are here, looking for you.”
Byn
broke
in,
sure Mateen would have laid out a quid pro quo
arrangement that would send Avanelle running for the hatch. This sort of
negotiation wasn’t like setting up a weapons maintenance schedule. Finesse was
required.
“Why?
How could you? You don’t know me. You aren’t even human.”
Mateen
made a low, annoyed sound.
Byn
knew his feelings on
the subject. He, too, disliked any sort of bigotry, no matter how
unintentional. “Yes, and you aren’t even
Alphan
, but
those distinctions aren’t a factor. We are compatible in the ways that matter.”
“Matter
how?” Avanelle blinked and drew her knees up, and Bynton saw the smooth curve
of her bare buttock and nearly threw himself upon her. But he restrained
himself,
sure that sort of action would also send the woman
running.
“We
wish for you to come with us, back to our home.” Mateen settled back on his
haunches in front of her, his hands resting on his thighs and his arms akimbo.
“To join our household.”
“As what, a maid?”
Mateen
shook his head, and Bynton decided to help. It would be a good distraction from
the mysterious parts of Avanelle’s body he was glimpsing.
“No,
as a partner.”
She
blinked and pursed her lips. “But I don’t have anything to offer…”
Understanding
dawned in her brown eyes, and her whole body tensed against the padded
headboard. She barely breathed. “You want me as a sex slave.”
Byn
couldn’t hold back the low growl
that had been building in his throat since he’d touched her earlier, and she
turned her frightened gaze his way. “Not a slave.”
“We
aren’t forcing you. That’s why we are talking to you.” Mateen sounded reasonable.
Bynton didn’t know how he did it. Merely being this close to Avanelle, hearing
her say “sex” was stimulating him in ways he’d never imagined. None of his
self-pleasure sessions had ever been this tantalizing, or his responses so
immediate. Mateen surely had to be feeling the same tug of lust. The woman
tucked her towel around her hips, which lowered the top edge and exposed most
of her small breasts. They looked soft, soft enough to caress with his tongue.
“We
aren’t going to just take you,”
Byn
ground out, his
self-control holding by a fine thread. Some pulse of emotion filled the air
between them. This moment of tension was a crucial one. Out of the corner of
his eye he saw Mateen’s hand clinch on his thigh, the knuckles whitening with
the pressure.
Avanelle
was quiet, motionless for a long beat, and then she tore her gaze from his to
Mateen’s.
“Why me?”
“We
sensed you, or rather Bynton did. He’s more intuitive than I. He was sure the
connection could be made. You felt it, too. That’s why you panicked and ran.”
Byn
was glad Mat wasn’t explaining
everything to her just yet. Small steps would lead to the largest reward.
“I
ran because I was scared. What connection?” She clenched one hand in the soft
plush of the towel as the other smoothed along the sheet next to her hip.
Byn
wanted her to touch him like that, soft strokes and
strong grips.
“A
bond, similar to the one
Byn
and I share.” The other
man stopped and cleared his throat. “You would be safe and have every advantage
we could provide.”
“So
you came here, to that camp, to find me, and you want me to go with you and
have sex with you.
Both of you.”
Avanelle’s quick
recitation of the basics of the situation earned her nods from both Mat and
him. In no way did she understand the ramifications of this arrangement, or the
potential for a challenge that might occur when they arrived home. Better to
save those discussions for another time, if they were lucky enough to get it.