Chapter 2 #2
Heat pulsed up Drakkal’s spine. His fur bristled, his ears flattened, and his tail whipped from side to side.
His every instinct warned against this, told him it was foolish, that it was a trick, a trap.
Every instinct but one—the one that demanded he go to the terran now.
He didn’t understand that drive or its origin, but it was more insistent than all the rest.
Don’t be stupid, he reminded himself.
He followed Murgen into the cell.
Before Drakkal registered anything else, the sundrinker-laced fragrance—which permeated the air within the cell—dominated his senses, so potent that he felt it spread through his body, trailing delightful tingles in its wake.
The exotic aspect of that perfume remained unidentifiable, but it was undoubtedly warm, sweet, feminine, and alluring.
It was undoubtedly her.
Drakkal swung his gaze to the terran, who remained huddled in the corner, her stunning, blue-eyed gaze locked on the males who’d entered her cell. The defiance and intensity in her eyes belied her meek, vulnerable posture.
Her eyes met Drakkal’s, and the tingling sensation within him intensified. Hers were the eyes of a fighter, of a fierce, unbroken spirit.
Hers were the eyes…of Drakkal’s mate.
It seemed impossible that he could know it with such certainty, but now that the thought had blossomed, it was indisputable. This terran was meant to be Drakkal’s.
Murgen stopped a couple meters away from the terran. “She’s docile now, but I assure you she’s quite…energetic when it matters.”
Nostrus shoved past Drakkal to stand beside Murgen.
“Come now, Nostrus,” Murgen grumbled, “she’s restrained. She cannot do me any harm.”
“It’s my duty to anticipate potential risks, Master. And nothing about this”—he glared at Drakkal—“is safe.”
To his annoyance, Drakkal couldn’t help feeling a kinship with Nostrus. He understood the headaches of running security for someone who didn’t seem interested in following simple rules to maximize safety.
That didn’t ease his desire to knock the volturian’s head into the wall.
“Stand up, terran, so my guest may have a better look at you,” Murgen said.
The female’s eyes shifted to Murgen and narrowed; it was the only movement she made.
Murgen huffed, his smile falling. “As I may have mentioned, this one hasn’t quite learned her place.” He activated his holocom, flicked through the options, and brought up a new menu. “We’ve had to implement certain gentler means of control thanks to her spirit.”
As Murgen manipulated the controls, small green circles lit up on the terran’s bindings. Her features hardened, and her muscles tensed, making the cords on her neck more pronounced. She bared her teeth as she stood up with jerky motions—though it seemed more to Drakkal like she was pulled up.
“I’ve considered investing in these for my other pets, though our more typical means of discipline have worked well in keeping their behavior acceptable.
The collar and cuffs are bound to each other as a unit but are also tethered to an energy field within the walls.
They can be manipulated through my holocom or synchronized to handheld remote controls,” Murgen said.
“To put it in terms you might better understand, think of it like…magnetism that is entirely at my control. I can adjust the length and strength of all the tethers with a few finger gestures. It’s proven quite effective with this one. ”
Murgen adjusted the controls again. The terran female growled as her head was pulled backward toward the wall, nearly dragging her on her heels.
She straightened stiffly. Her arms swung down to her sides, hands about half a meter from her hips, and her legs spread apart to widen her stance, baring her naked form fully.
“Our traditional means of discipline are currently off limits with her, and she’s clever enough to understand that I don’t want much harm done to her for the sake of her expected offspring. We’ve been forced to get…creative.”
Drakkal studied her body—he was helpless but to do so.
Standing upright, she was around one hundred and seventy centimeters, about the same height as the other two female terrans he’d encountered.
Her stomach was rounded, and she had generous curves, including flaring hips, delectable thighs, and large breasts tipped with dark pink nipples, but the strain in her stance revealed tone muscle beneath that surface softness.
His gaze fell to her hairless mound, which was open to reveal the delicate petals of her sex.
Unbidden, his cock hardened, pushing out from its sheath to press painfully against his pants. His ears rose, his nostrils flared with a fresh inhalation of her heady scent, and his tail sped its restless lashing. Without thinking to, he stepped closer to her.
He needed to have her, to take her, now. It didn’t matter if she was carrying another male’s cub, this terran was his. His mate. Her scent alone was enough to drive him wild, and it was only Murgen’s voice—pompous and condescending—that halted him.
“Yes…I see this will work out well,” Murgen said. “Cleary she’s awoken something bestial your kind hasn’t quite evolved beyond.”
Don’t be stupid, Drakkal. Remember where you are, who you’re with.
Drakkal shook himself and pressed his claws into his right palm, producing pricks of pain. That pain was just enough to draw him back to his senses and force him to look at the larger picture.
The terran’s eyes were upon him again, glaring beneath eyebrows that were slanted in fury.
Despite her strained stance, she held her chin up, creating the odd impression that, though Drakkal towered over her, she was looking down at him.
Somehow, that only rekindled his desire; he forced it aside with all his willpower.
Her earlier position—sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs—had only displayed a few of her bruises.
More were visible now, some dark blue or purple, others faded green or yellow.
There were some on her arms and legs, one on her cheek, but the ones that told the clearest story were those on her knuckles, elbows, and knees.
She was tiny, yes, but Drakkal didn’t doubt that she’d injured a few of Murgen’s guards. She was a fighter. What he’d initially mistaken for meekness or defeat had only been patience—she’d been biding her time, awaiting an opportunity.
“Those bruises don’t suggest gentle treatment.” Drakkal pried his gaze from her to look at Murgen.
Nostrus turned his head to stare heatedly at Drakkal.
Pursing his lips, Murgen grunted. “Most of them are self-inflicted, the results of her struggles. As I said, quite spirited, this one. Of course, none of that is your concern. Should we come to some agreement, your only obligation is to fornicate with her. I’d prefer the natural methods over any sort of artificial insemination, just from a scientific standpoint.
Any such contact would be observed and recorded, mind you, for the same, uh… scientific reasons.
“At any rate”—Murgen turned to face Drakkal fully, settling his hands over his gut and locking his fingers together—“you’ve had your closer look, and your interest, however crude or primal, is quite apparent.
We can discuss the details at a later time, when I have the appropriate liaison available to explain the terms to you in a manner you’ll fully comprehend.
Shall we return to my office to conclude our business regarding the identification chip? ”
Drakkal flicked his gaze from Murgen to the terran.
Don’t be stupid, Drakkal.
Don’t. Be. Stupid.
She’s my mate.
“How much for her?” Drakkal asked.
Kraasz ka’val, you idiot. What are you doing?
“I thought I’d explained already that she won’t be available for such interactions until after she’s delivered her current offspring,” Murgen replied.
Already been stupid. Might as well go a little further.
“No, not how much to rut with her. How much for her.”
Murgen reeled backward. For a moment, it seemed as though he’d topple onto his backside. “Excuse me? I would think it clear to anyone with more than half a brain that she is not for sale. Even if she were, someone like you wouldn’t be able to meet my asking price.”
“What did you pay, Foltham?” Drakkal took a step toward Murgen.
Nostrus inserted himself between the durgan and the azhera, drawing back the side of his suit jacket with one hand and reaching for the holstered blaster beneath his arm with the other. He met Drakkal’s gaze with his cold eyes and held it. A mere meter of space separated them.
“It’s quite rude to discuss financial matters of this sort openly,” Murgen said, shaking his head behind the volturian.
“Just as I had begun to consider you a respectable professional, you’ve gone and shown your true nature, that you’re no better than any typical piece of scum from the streets, that—”
Whatever frayed string that had been tenuously holding back the fullness of Drakkal’s rage snapped in that moment. He was tired of inaction, tired of having his patience abused, tired of being insulted. He was tired of being treated like something less than a person by people like Murgen Foltham.
Drakkal lunged forward. Nostrus was fast; the volturian managed to pull his blaster completely free of its holster before Drakkal covered the volturian’s hand with his armored prosthetic hand, halting Nostrus’s arm. Drakkal squeezed. Bones crunched.
Screaming in pain, Nostrus swung his left fist. Drakkal blocked the blow with his right forearm.
Need to get the terran out of here.
Pushing himself forward, Drakkal slammed his knee into the volturian’s midsection. Nostrus doubled over with a wheezing grunt.