Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
The weight of it left her reeling.
She was alone in space, stupidly hiding in a dark room from a male whom she been given to like a sacrificial lamb.
…as if he’d never find her.
The ridiculousness was not lost. Morgaine looked down at the sharp sliver in her hand, saw the way she clutched the ruined dress over her breasts, and knew hopelessness.
Whatever he had in store for her, she could not stop it.
Running the back of her hand over flushed cheeks, she wiped the tears away, and straightened her shoulders to face him with the last bits of pride she could muster.
The sound of the Alpha returning could be heard in the other room. Swallowing back a sick feeling, she turned from the view, standing so he would see her when he checked this final room. It did not take him long.
Still naked, his flaccid cock hanging thick and foreboding between his legs, he strode in with a scowl. Shorter and less muscular, a fully dressed man followed and immediately averted his eyes.
This frazzled companion was clearly a Beta like the men in her settlement—the first Beta she had seen in days.
The Alpha began to speak, his voice low, calm, almost poetic in its velvety meter. He even purred.
A moment later the Beta translated. “Our Heidron would like to know who struck you and why.”
What did it matter? What did any of this matter?
Morgaine tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon, felt the skin on her palm split until warm blood dripped down the blade. When the Heidron sniffed the air and darted a glance to her hand, when it looked as if he prepared to approach, Morgaine narrowed her eyes, and growled at the pair of them. “I was taken from my mother, forced to endure lessons on how to be a proper Omega, threatened constantly with unwanted male attention, and watched every minute of every day. I was struck because I disliked it.”
The words were fed back to the Alpha, the one watching her bleeding hand with his own narrow-eyed gaze. He did not find her answer satisfactory.
The Beta asked again. “Who struck you and why?”
Morgaine found the question pointless considering the brute who’d asked it, and snarled, “The day before you arrived, I laid down in the glass cage and ignored the rude questions and vulgar demands of the Alphas who came to bid on me. The commandant assured that I would not be able to sit or lie down again the next day. He ordered five strikes of a cane. The sergeant responsible for my transition carried out the sentence, adding in an extra strike for good measure. The Alpha with the greatest claim to me held me down, though he offered to take my punishment upon himself.”
Every word was fed back to the one staring at her. His eyes went to hers when he spoke for the Beta to translate. “You smell like fear.”
Her lip shook. “You’re very scary.”
“And you believe you can fend me off with that broken bit of metal?”
Morgaine glanced down at her bloody weapon. “No, but if I get you angry enough, you will kill me more quickly.”
He paced toward her, pried the shard from her numb fingers, and threw it to crash against the nearest wall. “A weapon will not work unless you are willing to wield it, girl. I suggest never raising one to me again.”
Taking her bleeding palm in his hand, he inspected the shallow wound.
The last traces of pride and bravery vanished when he licked it. “If you are angry about the marks on my back, I was assured they would not scar.”
His palm cupped her cheek, fingers curling around her skull. A smear of her blood on his lips, he rumbled, the translation following. “I am angry about the wounds. Very angry. But I am not angry with you.”
Unsure what to say, Morgaine closed her eyes, a long breath leaving her chest. Again, he put her cheek to his chest, his hand to her hair, and placed an arm firmly around her middle.
The resonant purr was like warm sand for her to sink into. It felt treacherous and untrustworthy, even as it promised safety and warmth. Like the thing he’d done to her in his nest, the way he’d turned her body against her and made her the true definition of feral.
The male knew how to control in ways which Sergeant Uriel had only tested the waters and Corporal Esin had yet to learn.
Pressing closer to that noise, Morgaine muttered, “I don’t know what to do.”
The words had been too soft for the translator to hear, but the Alpha responded as if in perfect understanding, his Beta companion announcing, “He says you shall rest now.”
The translator dismissed, Morgaine was taken back into the sleeping chamber. Only this time, she was not shoved into the bedding, but urged to lie down on her stomach. A short time later his weight came heavy beside her, a cool pass of medicine swabbed over her back and buttocks until her hurts vanished.