Chapter 6
It isn’t until morning comes that I realize Arrek never locked the cage last night. The door is still open, and I never even thought about escaping. Was it another trap, left to see if I would sneak somewhere to make a rope, so they could hunt me down?
Or is the beast getting sloppy, too frustrated from what looked like a very satisfying orgasm, but clearly wasn’t, to check? His seed is caked on the floor, and I wrinkle my nose at it.
I pull the furs a little closer.
Mero comes over and rests one enormous hand upon the top of my cage. His gaze moves briefly towards the open door before returning to me.
“We’re going into the capital. There are some men we need to meet who were among the last to Shift through the Rift. We want to hear firsthand what they saw.”
“You would be alone for some hours,” he continues. “The Reaver will remain on overwatch. Is that acceptable, or would you like to come with us?”
I promised myself I’d never set foot in the capital.
I saw women make the trip on the birthday they turned legal, the village boys seething with jealousy.
I don’t want to be one of those women, leashed to Mero’s hand and paraded around.
Dressed beautifully, perhaps, but watching other human women being treated like objects. Like toys.
Or maybe they would let me wear nothing but the collar, showing how far below them I am to every single prying eye.
Even worse, no one would care. I’d just be one of the thousands of women just like me, a pathetic little pet.
I don’t want to negotiate clothes, or how I will act while I’m there, not while he’s watching me with those intense gray eyes.
“Thank you for the invitation,” I say, keeping myself polite, not moving to cover my body where the furs fell away and revealed my skin to him. “But I think I’d rather stay here.”
It burns to say it. I don’t want to be paraded around like a harem wench—no, not like one. As one.
While my mind churns, Talarin stands at the kitchen counter, turning the handle of the coffee grinder. That steady sound is such a comfort to me.
As much as I need to keep my promise to myself, it’s boring here. Even the fluid dynamics book has been tainted. I’m not going to read it, not knowing it’s Arrek’s mind that wrote it.
“Very well.”
I’m surprised he’s in regular clothing. Even to meet someone serving in the army, he didn’t don the white robes trimmed in blue-black. He is in trousers and a black sweater, perfectly tailored, yes, and of the finest quality, but so plainly ordinary.
I wouldn’t get to be ordinary beside him.
He turns to leave.
“Could you please get me some more books, if that’s okay? I’ve been rereading these same ones.”
“Of course. Is there anything else you desire?”
I hesitate. “Do you think you could find some blue soapstone?”
“For carving?”
“Yes. I’ve seen things made from it, but I’ve never had any myself. Just a little piece, if it isn’t too expensive.”
“I will see what I can find.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll be back in a few hours. Clean this up,” he says, patting the cage top and then motioning towards the dried pools of cum on the ground.
My mouth drops open for a second, then clamps shut. He can go from so kind to bossing me around in the most shameful way in an instant. Or perhaps, to him, ordering a woman to clean up liters of alien seed is nothing.
“Yes, sir.”
He walks away. I push back the furs and crawl out. My clothes are still folded where I left them, and I start getting dressed.
Arrek watches me from the table while he eats his breakfast. That laser focus. As though pulling on trousers is something that requires his complete attention.
I straighten my shirt and look towards him. “Yes?”
He finishes what is in his mouth, sets down his fork and rises. His big boots strike heavily against the limestone as he crosses the room. I hold still when he stops in front of me, trying to read his expression.
He reaches out and flicks the bell. Its bright chime fills the space between us. Then he walks past me, following Mero out, leaving me standing there with the bell echoing in my mind, the answering pull between my legs.
This time, there is no great wave of humiliation. I feel a rush of heat, but the shame is not as potent as it was last night.
I watch his broad back as he walks away. My hand lifts.
Before I can decide whether it is a terrible idea, I flick the bell myself.
Arrek stops.
He looks back at me, my finger still resting beneath the little silver curve.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I give him my sweetest smile, because at this point, nothing is going to stop him tomorrow.
No matter how I act, he’s going to turn my bottom red, and I might as well give as good as I get.
Then a low growl rumbles in his chest, and he turns away. I lower my hand. My face is still hot.
Talarin chuckles softly. It’s the first time he’s done more than snort. He sets the grinder down and follows his battle-brothers out.
I let their footsteps fade before I go to the stovetop and reach for the grinder. It’s then I realize Talarin did it for me, even though he had to stride out quickly to catch up to his triad.
He didn’t ask for anything in return. He just wanted to make life easier for me. I fill the lower chamber of the moka pot, spoon the grounds into place and set it over the flame. As it brews, I look at the floor.
Yech.
The sheer… volume of it.
I was right here, on my knees. Serving Mero and Arrek, my belly already full of Talarin’s seed, and I craved so much more.
Mero gripped my hair right there, my fingers clutching at his legs, the room beginning to darken as he used me for his release.
So much fucking seed, dumped straight into my stomach, hot, warm, salty, and addicting in the worst way, soothing my throat as he unleashed into me.
I swallow without meaning to. My stomach tightens, and I look away from the floor.
A sudden hiss of steam makes me jolt.
The moka pot is sputtering on the stove. I reach over and turn off the flame, shuddering.
Before I sit down with my coffee, I need to deal with the floor.
I can’t relax with that disgusting pool of seed glistening, sticky, on the ground.
I find a rag, fill a bowl with hot water and get down on my hands and knees.
The bell rings with each scrubbing movement, chiming as I lean forward, then again as I draw my arm back.
I’m glad Arrek is gone. But I keep listening for the three men to return, even though I know they won’t. If Arrek came back, he would definitely put me in a maid’s outfit and probably make another mess for me, even as I cleaned.
The first rag isn’t enough. It’s soaked through with the creamy seed. I go back for another, change the water and return to my knees.
They’ll be walking down to meet the transport now. They won’t be back for hours.
The whole estate to myself.
A little smile comes to my lips, even as I work. It takes three rags before the floor is clean. I wring them out and wash my hands, then pour my coffee and carry it to my seat.
But as I take the first sip, my eyes stray towards the hallway. I force myself to wait. I force myself to sip my coffee.
All that darkness below. All the secrets in the shadows that I didn’t see.
I need to know what they have planned. Whether they really intend to let me go, or whether this is some trap.
I take my half-finished coffee and walk beneath the archway of the front door.
The limestone is warm beneath my feet, heated by the sun, and the estate walls rise around me.
Then I see the transport ship lifting into view beyond the walls.
It shrinks to a little speck as it heads towards the capital.
They’re truly gone.
And I can’t help myself.
I put my half-finished coffee down on the little side table and start moving through the passage, with only a moment of hesitation at the top of the broad, curving staircase.
But I’ve made my decision. I go down, moving faster, my bare feet quiet against the stone as the sunlight from the skylight fades behind me.
The enormous doors are still open at the end of the short hallway.
I pass between them and stop in front of the running track that curves away in both directions, its pale lines following it around the chamber.
Beyond it, columns rise into darkness. The low bands of light illuminate the floor, the edges of the furniture, the enormous bed waiting in the center of everything.
The place where I know they’ve imagined holding me, restraining me, breeding me.
I can imagine Talarin walking me around that track on a leash between sweaty, brutal sessions.
Giving me my exercise. Around and around beneath all this stone, with no sun to tell me whether it’s daytime or nighttime.
Then, once I sweat, bringing me to the shower and grooming me, washing my body, taking away every single decision that was once mine and replacing it with only obedience.
And then I realize there’s something worse than going into the capital and having everybody see me as their pet.
Nobody seeing me at all. Nobody knowing I’m here. Being stuck, trapped down here.
I look towards the huge bed, then make myself look away. I didn’t come down here to grapple with the things I’ve already seen.
There are storage units farther into the room. Places I have yet to discover. I cross towards a huge stone storage compartment at the back. It looks massive, built for Aurelians, but as I touch the lid and pull upwards, I’m shocked that it opens easily, on some kind of quiet mechanism.
I lean forward. A deep freeze.
Meat fills it, packed neatly all the way down. I lean closer, looking at the layers beneath the first, then lower the lid and open the storage chest next to it.
This one doesn’t have the bite of cold. Ration bars. I stare at the rows of identical packages. There are all sorts of different flavors. Salted caramel is at the top, as if it’s been placed there recently.
After Mero trained me to eat that chocolate treat from his hand, he must have seen how I savored the caramel and brought this flavor specifically for me.
I shiver and close the chest, then open the next identical one beside it.
More. More ration bars.
How many are there? Ten thousand? I look along the storage units I haven’t opened yet.
There’s enough food to keep me down here for?—
I swallow. I don’t even want to finish the thought.
Centuries. Thousands of years.
This place is for if I am Bonded to them. I understand that now. They built it secretly below here. A fortress, with everything they could need to keep me here forever, away from anybody else.
Simply breeding me over and over again.
I take a huge breath in, because I know about the Bond. I know the dark rumors, and I remember what Mero said: that it would make everything I’ve felt here a hundredfold more intense.
I’m already struggling with the intensity of my desires. Just how much I’m starting to crave their praise, their touch, and even that hand coming harshly across my bottom. I don’t pretend anymore. I don’t stop myself from admitting it.
Part of me is going to enjoy it.
Then I see the box.
There’s an ominous glow to it. It stands in the shadows beyond the storage units, dark enough that I nearly missed it. It seems to suck in the pale light. It’s roughly human-sized, certainly too small for any of them, and it doesn’t look like it’s filled with food.
I move closer. There’s glass around the outside, but nothing over the top. At first, I think the material inside is solid. Then it shifts a little. Just enough that I stop walking.
It’s some sort of thing that’s part solid, part liquid. It looks like liquid, but it holds its shape. The surface moves slowly, settling again, and I can’t work out what I’m looking at.
I reach over the glass with one finger. The dark material gives beneath it.
I feel nothing. Nothing at all.
I stare at my hand. My fingertip is pressing into the surface. I can see the liquid moving around my skin, but there’s no sensation. No warmth, no cold. Not even the pressure I should feel from touching something.
I pull my hand back and rub my finger against my thumb, testing whether my hand has gone numb. But it’s normal. I run my finger over the material again, and there’s nothing.
Then I lower my hand farther into it. It feels almost weightless. This strange feeling, like I could be suspended in there.
I look at the open top.
They could put me in there.
I withdraw my hand and walk around the box. At the back, I see an opening.
Exactly at groin level for an Aurelian standing behind it.
If I was in there, all sensation would be robbed from my body, all sensation except for their huge cocks splitting me open, one by one…
And their awareness in the Bond.
That’s how it works, doesn’t it? That telepathic link? Even if I was deaf to the world, my hearing taken from me, they could feed commands straight into my mind, telling me not to think, not to struggle, not to do anything but be a thing for them to use.
That stretching, pulsing size, ramming into me, over and over, nothing else to distract me while Mero would order me in my mind to cum for him…
I step back from the glass, feeling dirty inside.
I’ve seen enough. I turn away, crossing the running tracks.
There are many places I haven’t looked, more horrors waiting in the shadows, but I don’t want to discover anything else.
I want to be outside, in the sun, with the cool bite of autumn against my skin.
My steps quicken as I pass between the enormous stone doors.
Through the short hallway and up the curving staircase, faster now than when I came down. The bell rings with every step.
Sunlight reaches me before I get to the top.
I stop there for a moment, my hand against the wall. I can feel the stone beneath my palm. I press against it a little harder.
They would never put me in there. I know that. Whatever else I think of them, I know they wouldn’t force me into that box.
It should make me feel better.
But I keep looking down the stairs.
They would never put me in there.
Unless I asked.
Unless I begged them to pick me up and place me in there, so I could feel nothing but them.