Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout (11 page)

She broke the magical moment by sliding her gaze down, lifting the shirt, and wriggling it into place over her head. “You're making me wear this. Just remember, nobody touches me, Solvun."

"Understood.” I reached for the chains, securing each into place with a click, two in the front equidistantly spaced from her sweet dent of a navel, and the final chain along her spine.

The only other lock to engage was the one beneath her chin. I tilted my head to humor her in finding her gaze.

She tugged at the black leather section embracing her breasts and smirked. “This clothing is barely functional."

She had no idea how she'd appreciate the fact no other male could worm his way into her pants and mark her with nanites. “You'll see its usefulness in time.” I disengaged the cuff ring at her neck and tossed it onto the cuffs on the bed.

She was better off able to kick to protect herself. And nobody could get her clothes off. Nobody. My fingerprint was the only key that opened the lock.
Mine
.

As was her sacred womb.

Mine and M'yote's.

"So how do I relieve myself when the need arises?” Her brow arched again.

Did I even have to answer?

The King had to be the biggest chauvinist pig I'd ever met. Theone tried to act normal. To pretend he wasn't winning this little power play. But who still wore chains? I'd said no chains. Right? Men.

Hell, he'd made me kneel before his goddess and pity his people's plight only to go and lie. The best one I ran across waited back on Luvk. And where was I? Chained up, incapable of peeing without permission. I should piss my pants all damned day long.

Solvun dressed and walked to the door. “Stay here, Theone. Only my fingerprint opens the door. You're safer here."

What a bunch of lovely declarations. Do what I want! You're screwed! But I'm doing it for your own good! Men. If they're so brilliant, why was I sent in to affect their escapes? Nice irony. Men get in jams. Women clean up the stickiness. Lovely universal truth. I rescued my boots from the lavatory and found they helped retain some of my body heat.

Some scrap of a plan M'yote had. All I could do was wait out the nightmare on a sinking boat. At least, you don't have to walk the plank on a sinking ship. Maybe the sharks would go for the bigger juicier bites offered in the male bastards? If so, I might just survive this fiasco.

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M'yote's cell could stand for some refinement. But what could a warrior expect when imprisoned as the enemy? A bed, a functioning lavatory, no cellmates. Nice. Although, the horrible video screen that flickered on to show me the battle of wills in Solvun's opulent sex cell didn't make me any more likely to submit.

If the !Dakos thought they could anger me into using my Handler powers to help them adjust the byproducts of their tinkering with their planet's genome, I'd never comply now. Besides, they caused their problems with their female offspring in utero. Their choice of paths in life led their people to this point. And ethics are ethics. Although I hadn't been pushed to save a life before, I couldn't guess what I'd do if someone's life like Solvun's hung by a delicate hair. The little wild hair of desperation would require Solvun's loss of head or limbs, and a lack of medical attention would lead to a Handler's intervention because nanites could repair damaged tissue quickly and help stop blood flow but couldn't regenerate a leg or a decapitated head's body. However, I hadn't been forced to face the issue of saving my brother's life yet.

But bioengineering still haunted the universe.

The !Dakos wanted me to alter their modifications to their genome, to correct their foolish mistakes. But ethics would argue they had ventured down a dangerous path. They must suffer the consequences.

Someone pounded at my door.

Probably Rom. Back to make demands.

The door creaked open.

Two !Dakos warriors watched me from beyond Solvun's shoulders.

"Fancy meeting you here, Solvun.” I turned back to sit on my squeaking cot, knowing he just came to play our feigned rivalry up for our wardens. “Go away if you want to spar. I'm no longer in the mood.” Although, a good round of boxing helped me loosen up.

Solvun stepped across the threshold. “Just wanted to complement you on your taste in D'enas."

The door slammed shut.

My sentiments exactly. Theone didn't want me but rode Solvun like he was a god. Probably because they looked so similar in body color. I rolled my eyes for effect and smacked my lips. “Keep her, brother. I saw enough to know how much you enjoy her. Yet, she was never mine. Just my pilot."

"Oh?” Solvun's shocked mask proved quite amusing.

"Very much so. She was transporting me to Quadrant Seven when she employed some sort of hyper-jump mechanism—"

"You mean the spacecraft isn't psychic-propelled? Kind of archaic, little brother. No wonder you crapped out of the universe's asshole. Right into this joy of a home.” He patted the wall with fake affection.

My brother and his epiphanies. “Leave it to you to sum up things so eloquently."

Solvun's face shifted into straight-lipped mirth. “I'm the eldest and wisest.” He shrugged and turned back to the door, sauntering, plotting.

"What are your plans with her? She's innocent of anything the !Dakos suspect, Solvun. Be gentle with her. Remember E'na.” And take care of Theone.

Solvun paused.

Not something he'd normally do.

He turned until he could see me with one golden eye in profile. “I've mated with her. She's ours to breed. Don't play around, little brother. Or you won't get a chance to leave Prall a son."

Solvun disappeared through the doorway with his subtle warning about survival. And I intended to survive. To worm my way into the heart of my brother's D'ena. Because she proved on the trip here that hers was a heart that had to be won. And, by law, she was the only mate I could have now.

I must have reached some plateau with my relationship with Solvun. He took me for a walk later that night. Unchained except for my stupid outfit of chains. Right down to what I'll refer to as a mess hall filled with a menagerie of aliens who obviously hadn't seen a female in person in ages.

Maybe he thought it safe enough to parade me around.

"Keep your eyes on the floor,” Solvun muttered over his shoulder at me.

Scratch that last thought. Fine, however. I could play the docile possession of the possessed. But he'd been aloof since he returned from his outing. Something happened. And he wasn't talking about sharing.

"We'll eat,” he muttered at me. “The more you act like you like me, the less they'll watch us."

I guess he should have defined
like
. I interpreted the concept to mean
fond of
.

We'd eaten something dense and chewy, akin to meatloaf, avoiding censoring alien gazes. Then Solvun rose, maybe expecting me to follow in his departure. I managed to keep up with the squeak of each heel of his knee-high black boots. But when he sat on a stool to play what had to be cards by the flatness of the small sheets of material he held with his five extraterrestrial friends, I had nowhere to go. But on him.

Scrutinizing alien gazes were everywhere.

He didn't balk when I draped his back with my body.

You know, by his chuckles, I'd have to throw everything he owned on the table that he
liked
my attention and would have whipped out a cigar if he had one. Just to get me to play with it like some souped-up egotistical politician. And that's exactly what a king was. So, I went with the moment to play our audience.

Who wouldn't have run her palms all over
his
glorious broad chest anyway?

Everyone in the room must have agreed by the silence descending upon the menagerie of odd humanoid bodies. Slowly, the throng squeezed in, giving me a wide berth, probably fantasizing about sticking something up one of my extremely short pant legs. But, Hell, if things boiled down to the only way we could escape this prison was in setting off a who-gets-the-girl riot like I resorted to back in Turkey, well, I had better get started on working up the friction to necessitate said emotional fog and wiggle my ass in the wee shorts.

Because smoke screens always saved my ass.

"Your little tick seems to have changed her mind about you by the way she's sucking your neck,” some purplish-black guy with bug eyes, literally wide bottomless dark eyes the size of saucers, tossed a metal card onto the metal table and went on about his business waiting for Solvun's reply.

Solvun didn't skip a beat in the game. He tossed a card with some foreign symbol onto the table with the seriousness of a man out for blood. “She's mine, Hatch. If you don't like the show, throw in your ticket."

Oh, the King's good. I ran a palm slowly down his ripped supple midline. Down. Down over firm muscles, to the soft skin around his navel.

He grabbed my wrist and chuckled. “Enough D'ena. I'm trying to concentrate."

"She acts like you drugged her with !Dakos pheromones."

Drugged? Flonn drugged me? Hmm. I slid my arms around Solvun's slim waist beneath his arms and settled against the meat of his shoulder where just my eyes could peek at the prisoners seated around the table. Bugs and small reptiles with wide jaws came to mind.

Ugh. I'll keep the golden god
King
.

"Is your little pet helping you cheat, Solvun?” A gray hairless man set an accusing gaze on me from next to Bug Eyes.

Great. Solvun would know my sight wasn't on the ground. I tucked my eyes behind Solvun's back and just waited for the reply.

"She's never seen the game before now. How would she know what I need to help me win?” He patted the back of one of my hands. “Hold tight, D'ena. I'm almost finished. Then I'll take care of you."

The crowd squirmed.

Promises. I tried not to laugh.

At least he could make my body hum. Like the buzz running down my arms. Toward my belly. Jolting me with awareness that he needed to take me back to our room and put on another little sex show for the prisoners.

Sweet anticipation. I gulped down a laugh.

He was just manipulating the audience though. Still, he was really good at this kind of manipulation. Just what was his goal? Since my gut didn't squawk, I'd just go with his plan. I held onto that warm solid chest.

Time to just have a good time. For what it's worth. I am stuck in Hell, teetering on a plank.

By the time Solvun plied through the throng of nosy prisoners and guided me back to his chamber without so much as a glance, I was ready to shower. To talk. To learn his game. And I didn't have to wait long.

He immediately began unlocking my chains at the foot of his monstrous bed. “I'm ready for a shower,” he said emotionlessly, staring down my back.

But his bulging erection spoke fathoms. I guess I couldn't massage his amazing body the way I had during the card game without expecting sexual repercussions. But who's talking about ramifications? Time to get onto the aftermath if he intended on making me feel as incredible as he had last time.

Solvun's face lit with a knowing smile and he eyed me, flicking his gaze to the lavatory door.

Yes. Back to the game. Nice game. I'll be his pawn. Although, I was officially his mate. He hadn't said a thing about blood mates. Even if he knew what one was, he had no idea I was a were-assassin Marshal ready for the eternal bond. Probably didn't know about The Order of the Marshals either.

My gut knotted with awareness.

He simply didn't know
.

And I wasn't up for a confession. Wrank got me if he still wanted me. If he could forgive the things I had to do to endure for survival. To return to him. If he didn't...

Duty had to stand for something.

Had to send reverberations throughout the universe.

Had to leave me holding something as valuable.

The prize just didn't seem buried deep inside the guts of this compound. Albeit, the golden god King was looking mighty fine. Or was that just his enormous jutting cock?

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Cybernetics... “the science of effective organization.” ~Stafford Beer

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The way Solvun's hands brushed up my nude ribs dissolved my insides to the point my legs ceased to function. Free of my leather and chains, I fell into the massive muscular chest I'd been fondling this evening when toying with the crowd throughout the card game and raked my peaked nipples across his succulent breasts. And he didn't seem to mind the way he groaned and firmly ran his palms down my back to cup my ass, holding me against his thick rod so precariously smashed between our bodies.

Something told me that engrossed golden gaze he mesmerized me with was genuine. Since my gut didn't note otherwise, I'd just give myself to the delightful need in his caress. Because he had to be thrilled to hold me the way my body seemed to be helping him breathe.

Or all of these thoughts were fantasy inside my head. Ah, the notion rooted equally in his mind. I slid my arms around his sturdy shoulders and combed fingers through his wet blond hair.

Roots were the perfect subject to dwell upon at the moment.

The heat of the shower spray caressed our entangled limbs.

"Why did you fight me earlier?” he asked softly, then planted a gentle kiss on my cheek liked he'd loved me for years.

Oh, my heart melted beneath his delicate touch.

Well, I'd just avoid mentioning the chains were annoying. He was evil enough to use that against me in the future. And he was just so bloody attentive now. Growing on me. The truth might sour the moment. “You said they were watching.” Didn't he want the inmates to have a good show?

"They're always watching. Like now. But they can't hear what we hide in the shower.” He pressed his soft warm lips against my ear. “Did M'yote have a plan?” he whispered for my ears only.