Chapter 6 #2
Frey’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for Rone to respond.
It rushed out again in palpable relief when instead of handing Frey over, he pulled him tightly to his side.
He moved the hand that had been petting Frey’s head to Frey’s cheek, stroking his thumb down to brush Frey’s lips.
The other male tracked the movements with obvious hunger.
Shit, maybe Rone was merely teasing the guy before cementing the deal.
But no.
“Indeed? Please don’t let me keep you, then.
” Rone’s tone was silky smooth, and he punctuated his statement by pressing Frey’s face into his broad, hard chest. The leather of the male’s tunic was surprisingly soft on Frey’s skin.
He inhaled slowly and deeply, liking the unique smell that was Rone.
Alien as it was, the scent calmed him, made him feel safe.
He wondered if this was what other Travians detected on him, or did they smell something entirely different, something more frightening?
The customs guy didn’t look happy at that response.
With a huff, he turned and resumed his search.
It took a long time for them to check out all of the cargo, at least it felt that way to Frey.
There weren’t more than two dozen containers and none of them were more than three meters by three meters.
Yet, the Travians spent a lot of time going over them, all multiple times with their scanners and manually.
Finally, they finished. The junior guy left the cargo bay immediately, while the more senior one returned to glare at Rone.
He stuck out his tablet. “Your mark here, sire.”
Rone lazily extended the forefinger of his free hand and pressed it against the tablet.
“Don’t forget to keep those things leashed at all times, or I’ll be forced to confiscate them.” With that parting shot, he strode out.
Although Frey could have sworn Rone had been unconcerned with the search, he realized he’d been wrong.
Pressed as he was up against his master’s body, Frey couldn’t miss how it relaxed the moment they were alone.
His surprise increased when he felt a pat on the top of his head before Rone released him.
Rone turned to Preen. “I’ll order up transport for the containers. I’m going to want you to stay with the ship.”
“With the boy?”
“No, he comes with me,” Rone said aloud.
“He’ll be safer staying here.” The small creature’s hand gestures were bold and slashing.
Bending over, Rone got right in his pet’s companion’s face.
“With. Me.” Issuing a screech, Preen scampered off.
Rone shook his head then stepped back to Frey.
He reached out and, cupping the back of Frey’s head, pulled him in close.
Frey’s heart skipped a beat at the fierce look in his master’s face.
“You will stay as close to me as a third appendage would. Are we clear on that point, pet?”
“Yes, master.” Hell, yeah, he was abso-fucking-lutely clear on that point. Wishful thinking or not, Frey felt safer plastered against Rone than anywhere else.
By the time he reached his destination, Rone had stared down half the station.
Frey’s exotic presence caused quite a stir.
Rone wasn’t sure if all of the attention worked for or against him.
One the one hand, going unnoticed usually was preferable when smuggling goods.
On the other hand, hiding in plain sight often also worked.
He followed the large delivery platform navigated by two stout males through the station.
With his arm wrapped around his pet, keeping him as close as possible, Rone affected the air of someone unconcerned.
In reality, he took note of the route they traveled to the merchant who’d bought the goods he delivered.
Should the need arise, he wanted to be able to make it back to the ship unaided and as quickly as possible.
He also scanned for problems. He didn’t trust Kuren in the least, and it wouldn’t surprise him if this small ‘test’ trip was really intended to be a one-and-only trip.
An ambush wasn’t beyond imagining. No matter.
He had every intention of protecting himself and the small human clutching at his waist.
The poor boy was scared. Rone could feel the pounding of his heart and the rapid, shallow breaths he took.
Rone really couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be so outnumbered by larger beings.
There were few species in the known universe that topped the Travians in size, and he was hardly a runt.
Not since childhood had he been uncomfortable walking in large crowds.
He also knew that his pet had expected to be handed over to the customs officers, and the guilt he’d felt over sharing the boy with Kuren had flared anew.
He’d tried to make up for the slight, even while working hard to erase the other male’s scent from the pet.
A desire to coddle the human had warred with the more primal need to mark him repeatedly.
To his regret, his baser side had won out, and it didn’t help that he’d been forced to spend a long and boring time waiting for Kuren’s instructions.
Besides teaching his pet to play quaz—a surprisingly entertaining way to spend his time—there’d been little to do other than fucking.
He knew he’d pushed the limits of his pet’s endurance, knew he’d made the boy sore from his constant attention.
But even if he’d called upon better discipline, he would have still done the same thing.
Parading the boy among all of these stranger males forced him to saturate his pet with his scent.
No one had any doubt that this human was Rone’s property, and that touching him would bring on a world of hurt.
He followed the floating pallet of goods down a side corridor and through a wide set of double doors. A thin male, dressed almost as brightly as a female, greeted them.
“Sire Rone? A pleasure. I am Wirth, and I thank you for bringing my wares to me.” The male inclined his head before turning his attention to the delivery team.
“All the way to the back.” Turning again to Rone, he motioned with his hand.
“This way, if you please. I want to inspect the shipment, of course, then I hope you will join me for the evening meal?”
“I would be honored, sire,” Rone replied. This might prove better than he hoped. If this male was in Kuren’s standard delivery pipeline, he might provide Rone with useful information.
He followed the male into a cavernous room stocked with all manner of goods.
Without a plethora of his kind coursing by, he felt comfortable enough to let go of Frey, if not his leash.
The boy stretched a bit, testament to the strain he’d been under while having been tucked into Rone’s side.
Clever boy that he was, the pet watched the process of the containers being off-loaded and lined up against one side of the room at Wirth’s direction.
It took no time at all and soon the delivery males had left and all that remained were six males who were undoubtedly Wirth’s staff.
“Unpack them.” The male barked out his order before returning to Rone. “This won’t take long. My males are well-used to dealing with precious cargo.” His gaze flicked to Frey. “Such an interesting creature. That hair! Lovely to look at. Is it soft to the touch?”
Wirth reached out a hand, and before he could suppress it, a low growl erupted from the back of Rone’s throat. Wirth snatched his hand back as if Rone had bitten it and offered up a tight smile.
“My apologies, sire. I should have known a male of your standing secures what is his.”
“Yes, I do.” Because his caste rarely apologized to those of the lower ones, he didn’t say the words, but he gave what he hoped was a conciliatory expression. He looked over at the containers and found that most had already been emptied and were now being loaded onto another floating pallet.
“I must confess that I’m curious to see what I delivered.”
“Kuren didn’t share that information with you?”
“No. I am new to his organization, and I understand this run is a test of my reliability.”
Wirth clapped his hands. “Well, you got my shipment through inspection, so I’d say you’ve earned the right to understand what you’ve accomplished. This way.”
Rone stepped up to Wirth’s side and accompanied him to yet another room, one that was warm from bubbling vats of something green and unknown to Rone.
Wirth stopped a few meters from the first vat and gestured to a male to proceed.
That male maneuvered a mechanical claw over one of the empty containers.
The claw latched on, lifted the container and dunked it down in the green goo.
In the space of a few breaths, the mechanism lifted again.
Rone raised his eyebrows at what was left.
Beside him, Frey gasped. “The real cargo was imbedded within the container’s walls,” he said in a voice low enough that only Rone could hear.
“Indeed,” Rone murmured back. His pet might not be able to recognize the pieces of metal hanging along the edges of what was left of the container, but Rone did. Once they were rinsed and cut away from the scaffolding, they could be assembled into small, handheld weapons.
Rone stepped closer to the vat. “What is this liquid, exactly?”
“A solvent,” Wirth replied. “It rids us of the molding used to form the container, leaving behind the metal pieces. Clever, is it not?”
Breathtakingly so. “Except, when the inspectors scanned the containers, how is it that the metal pieces weren’t detected?”
“Oh, that’s perhaps the cleverest part of all. The containers are formed with the metal pieces as part of the mold, sealed together with a compound that causes the scanner to register it all as one seamless panel.”