Well, now everything was crystal clear. “Explain.”
“Sharluff, pack service guide.” Her chains rattled as she strained toward him, genuine concern in her voice, her pointed ears twitching, suddenly a thousand times more cooperative than she’d been moments ago. “L-looking for me. Not danger to you.”
Was she talking about the massive six-legged, feathered creature she’d had with her at the camp? If so, that thing hadn’t appeared harmless. He remembered a tanklike body with a sharp beak and even sharper claws.
Worse, it had tracked its owner straight to the hideout, creating an easy path for someone else to follow.
Weapon raised, he stalked closer to the big rock blocking the exit.
“What you do?”
Ignoring her, he pressed his ear to a small crack, the swish of a big body pacing, the occasional peck of rock, and the musky scent of animal unmistakable.
He listened for more clues. He didn’t hear anything human, but if it was someone as well trained as he was, he wouldn’t.
Only one way to find out for sure.
Propping his ax to the side, he gripped the edge of the rock.
“H-he innocent.” Her tone was sharper than before, her worried expression the opposite of the evil villain she was supposed to be. “L-leave alone.”
He briefly considered using her concern to his advantage, but dismissed the idea. The animal was too much of an immediate threat, its presence equivalent to a neon sign saying look for my captive here. He needed to get rid of it before it attracted attention.
Putting his back into it, he slid the stone along the track. Slowly.
“No hurt!”
Her concern for the animal was almost touching, but then again, several corrupt, murderous Councilmen back on New Earth were known vegetarians.
A bellow issued from the creature. As if it had caught the sound of his master’s voice along with her scent and wanted in.
Perfect.
He inched the stone farther to the side. He wanted an opening large enough for the creature to slip its head through, but too narrow for the rest of its body to follow.
Right on cue, a brown beak shoved through the crack, nostrils at the end of the beak flaring wide.
Grif reached for his ax.
“Females not hurt. Th-they alive and o-okay.” His captive’s words reached him in a rush. “Used for mining whalh metal. N-nothing else.”
His arm stalled in midstrike. Could that be true? Could that really be why she’d taken them?
A sharp piercing whistle erupted from his captive, followed by a series of clicks.
The creature’s beak reared upward, scrapping the rocks. Grif jumped back just in time, barely missing getting lanced in the stomach.
Recovering, he swept his weapon downward.
Not fast enough. The beak disappeared.
“Shit.” Ignoring the shouts from his captive, Grif gripped the rock once more and slid it open enough to slip through.
The grounds in front of the cave were empty.
He surveyed the surrounding area. His interrogation spot was three quarters of the way up the cliffside, perched on a barely there, inhospitable narrow lip of rock. He’d chosen this site precisely because it didn’t look like the kind of cave anyone in their right mind would investigate, much less set foot in.
Unless you were this Sharluff. Then you found it with ease.
And left just as effortlessly.
Several large, dragging paw prints scuffed the sand, a clear indicator of just how fast the creature had taken off.
Too fast to follow easily. Not that he couldn’t track it, but it would take time. Time better spent elsewhere.
Reentering the cave, he locked eyes with his captive. “So, the missing females are alive and being forced to mine for metal? That’s a very good start, but there’s far more I need to learn.”
Her chest rose and fell, but she didn’t answer. Now that the beast was gone, so was her cooperation.
“I bet it feels pretty good to know your beast got away.” He slid the rock into place, blanketing the cave in shadows. “Just remember though…you’re still here.”
9
Her breathing rushed out in low, animalistic pants.
He’d moved so fast, altering his ropes, her struggles useless even as he’d taken her wrist from the ceiling restraints, and re-bound them together clasped behind her neck. Then, he’d looped more rope through both elbows and threaded it through a circular chain in the ceiling. The new position left her even more off balance, her upper body exposed as her back arched and her elbows were forced upward.
With her legs still spread wide, the rope harness pulled tighter against her core with every pull of her wrists.
It was torment. It was pleasure like she’d never known.
“This is a favorite position of mine.” He’s stepped back to survey his work, the way his gaze drank in the cross of ropes making her core throb harder. “It’s elegant and effective. The ropes perfectly placed to press on your erogenous zones and amplify your reactions. It also leaves you completely open to whatever I want to do.” His tone was once more matter of fact. “What you’re feeling now will only get more intense as the blood flows and your body heats.”
She fought to hold in a moan.
“I expect your cooperation will return soon.”
It was her only warning.
Heat danced across her collarbone. A new kind of horror. A million times hotter than the suns on her skin at midrotation.
Her body jerked, her mouth opening on a silent O as words failed and shock slammed through her. She looked down.
The anazi was gone, crumpled on the ground. Instead, the pads of his fingers glided against her flesh.
The savage Other was touching her skin-to-skin. No rope. No anazi. Nothing but flesh on flesh.
“Y-you…can’t.” Every cell roared to life, hungering for the one thing she’d been denied her entire existence.
“I can. I will.” There was no horrific pain in his voice as Talg had foretold, only resolute determination. “I’ll touch you as much as I want. For as long as I want. Now that I know the females are alive and what you’re using them for, our sessions are only going to grow more intense.”
She rocked in place, the ropes the only things keeping her standing as need slammed through her like a raging dust storm.
She’d only made things worse by giving up the information she had, but she could not bear for Sharluff to die because of her.
The runt of the litter, Sharluff had been rejected by the pack hunters. His cries had been pitiful and familiar. She’d been only twelve planetary rotations old, but she understood his pain. She’d snuck him food from her meager fare. Coaxed him into curling up by her side. They’d survived together. Forged their own pack. It had crushed her to set him free when she’d discovered the savage was tracking her, but she’d thought her pet would be safer on his own. She never imagined he’d come searching for her or that their bond would put him in danger.
Usually, she used the “go” command when she did not want his scent scaring off whatever small game she was hunting. Thankfully, it had worked in this situation.
For now.
Without warning, her captor’s calloused hand cupped her breast.
She gasped. The burn of his flesh kindled a fire like nothing she’d ever known.