Waiting For Yesterday

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WAITING FOR YESTERDAY An Ellora’s Cave Publication, November 2004

Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. 1337 Commerce Drive, #13 Stow,OH44236-0787

ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0070-6 Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

WAITING FOR YESTERDAY © 2004 LORIE O’CLARE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Edited bySue-Ellen Gower. Cover art bySyneca .

Warning:

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers.Waiting For Yesterdayhas been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.


Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

S-ensuouslove scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-roticlove scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-tremetitles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart. Waiting For Yesterday Lorie O’Clare

Chapter One

The sound of Dree’s footsteps echoed in the wide hallway. She didn’t care. Let them discover her here. It wouldn’t matter now if they beat her to death, whipped her badly enough to leave scars, tortured her until she didn’t remember her name. There were some things she simply would not put up with. And His Majesty was about to hear about it. Dree of Torl didn’t care if she had less rank than the dirty boys who scrubbed the kitchen floors, scampering for scraps to take home to their families. The elite on this planet didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone beneath them. And that was a fairly large population. King Sorale of Benox, this filthy planet she now called home, didn’t care about any of them. That was about to change. “Dree. No.” The hushed voice startled her. Dree squinted into the shadows near one of the large windows. “Bean. Is that you?” The gaunt man leaned against the wall as he moved toward her. “What are you doing here?” Then she saw the material drenched in blood wrapped loosely around his hand. “What happened to you?” Dree reached for him, but Bean pulled his injured hand closer to his bare chest, avoiding her touch. “Where are you going?” He ignored her question.


“King Sorale’s guards just beat Dela. All she did was not move fast enough.” Dree felt her anger rage through her all over again at how they had treated the poor Benox woman. Bean shook his head. “Don’t risk your life over one of them. The people of Benox don’t care about themselves. And they care less about us.” He raised his blood soaked hand, the rag wrapped around it appearing to be his shirt. “I just lost a finger because I accidentally touched the King’s food while serving him. He’s insane, Dree. Don’t go in there.” Dree looked down the large hallway toward the solid wooden doors at the other end. The King’s court was on the other side, carefully closed in so that he wouldn’t have to endure the stench of the world he ruled. She hated him so much she shook from the intensity of it. “Dree. Don’t.” Bean’s soft-spoken words were meant to persuade her away. But returning her attention to him, seeing how atrophied he was without his shirt on, hardly any muscle clinging to his protruding bones, she couldn’t stop now. Bean could have been a good-looking man, a strong man. But neglect and fear had turned him into a fading shadow of what could have been. “You need to get that looked at.” She nodded to his hand. Once again he pressed it to his chest. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself. You face a fate that would make you beg for death if you go in there.” His words made her insides tighten. She’d heard rumors of the atrocities of King Sorale, seen the results of his mutilation on the lower-ranking citizens of Benox. “I have to do this.” She stared at the large wooden doors at the end of the hallway. A cold sweat spread over her, giving her chills. If she didn’t keep moving she would lose her nerve. Already she was terrified of what she needed to do. But someone had to do something. “Sometimes I wonder if he even knows what goes on around him.” “He knows.” Bean’s words were like a cold rush of wind, chilling her to the bone. Dree searched his pale lavender eyes, proof of his Kopah heritage, the slave trader plantation that had bordered her home at Torl on the planet Poltar. Once they had been slaves for the elite, pampered and living in the lap of luxury. Their only training being how to sexually please their masters. But that life had been destroyed, wiped out in a single day. “Go to the kitchen. Get your hand taken care of. I’ll be down there in a little bit.” She had no idea if she would or not. But if she didn’t sound confident, she would lose her nerve. “Go.” Bean looked down. Without another word he hurried down the hall. Taking orders was in their nature. And that is what made this so difficult. Dree needed to stand up for her people before they were all destroyed at the hands of bored guards. She needed to give the orders. She tucked loose strands of her white hair behind her ear, then ran her damp palms down the front of her loose-fitting shirt. It was the same kind of shirt Bean had wrapped around his hand. Simple and without color, the rough fabric hard on her skin, Dree’s shirt fit her as poorly as her pants did. But the unattractive clothes kept her from getting raped, usually.


She put one foot in front of the other, forcing herself forward while her heart moved to her throat and pounded painfully. Her hand shook when she reached for the long metal handle on the huge door. The metal was cold, her fingers barely wrapping around it. Dree took a deep breath, thinking how the door appeared to have been made for giants. She suddenly felt very small. This had to be done before she lost all will and turned tail to run. She gave the door a push. It barely moved. She leaned against it, and managed to open the door enough to squeeze inside. Another world was on the other side of that door. Dree couldn’t believe it. She stood in a room so large, with ceilings so high, she almost thought she was outside. And indeed, large open balconies on either end of the room allowed a breeze scented with the fragrance of a multitude of flowers to drift through the area. People moved around in front of her, beautifully clothed, chatting easily. They didn’t notice her. The relaxed atmosphere immediately made her homesick, memories of how good her life had once been as Torl’s slave hitting her hard. “Are you lost?” A guard stepped in front of her, his hands on his hips, looking at her with disgust. “Gods.” A woman nearby screeched. “What is it?” Another woman, adorned in the beautiful silk the elite wore, her tattooed body beautifully displayed through the delicate material, covered her mouth, looking at Dree in terror. “I want to see the King.” Dree tried to speak clearly, hoping for more respect if she sounded like she had her wits about her. The two women hurried away, fanning their noses while they whispered to each other. The guard laughed. “I doubt he would want to see you.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust and reached out to grab her. Dree tried to duck, but his large hand gathered the back of her shirt and a fair amount of her hair, and dragged her through the room. “I can walk.” She tried to pull his hand off of her. But the best she could do was wrap her fingers around his thick wrist behind her head and try not to lose her balance while he hurried her past curious onlookers. Two palace boys, wearing the loose-fitting pants of the higher-ranking servants, hurried to open another set of doors when they saw them approach. “No. I want to see the King.” Dree struggled, afraid he was sending her right back to the outer courtyard. She shut up quickly when she realized they had entered another finely adorned room of the inner castle. “What is this?” An older woman, her silk darkened, showing her privileged status not to be seen naked, sounded annoyed.


“She’s one of those Poltar slaves.” The guard said the name of her home planet with disgust. “I don’t know where she came from, but you take care of her.” With that, he tossed her at the woman’s feet and then turned and left, the large doors closing silently behind him. Dree hurried to her feet. She knew this woman was a higher-ranking slave—no more. And Dree had her freedom. Her former mistress had set her free when their home had been attacked. Regardless of what King Sorale dictated, Dree outranked this woman. Granted she had no home, no livelihood, and lived no better than the slaves, but she was not a slave. The woman looked her over from head to toe, her expression a mixture of disbelief and contempt. “I can’t help my appearance.” And she wouldn’t apologize for it either. “The King might appreciate my message better in my current state.” She doubted it, but held her ground while the slave assessed her. “Why is this here?” A man spoke from behind her and she turned, and then looked up at the giant brute who glowered over her. “Thishas a name.” She pointed at her chest, the man following the action with little interest. “I am Dree of Torl and I want to see the King.” The man walked around her slowly, Dree turning too so that her back was never to him. “Bring her.” He turned and walked away, his clothing foreign to her, along with his accent. “I can’t tell if there is anything there with all that filth on her.” The woman slave clicked her tongue at Dree, gesturing for her to follow. It took some effort not to slap at her hand when the woman poked her with a bony finger to get her moving. She followed the man, her heart racing while she tried to keep her thoughts focused. It was hard to take in her surroundings and keep in mind what she planned to say to the King. Everything around her was so beautiful, so elegant, nicer than anything she’d seen on Torl. Another slave boy opened a door when they approached. The man entered the dimly lit room, clapping his hands a couple of times. “Clean her and then bring her to me.” He turned around and left without another word. Dree realized he’d spoken to two slave women. They were naked, fine silver hoop earrings pierced through each nipple and a dainty silver chain around their waists and necks. The older woman pushed her from behind and Dree lost her footing. She fell into a pool of very warm water, a cement bathtub dug large enough for an orgy. The warm scented vapors rising from the water alerted her immediately. “Damn it to all the hells.” She reached for the side, holding her breath while she pushed herself out of the drugged water.


“You need a bath.” The older woman tried to push her back into the water. The two naked slave girls tried also. Dree fought all of them. The two girls being no challenge. Their movements were slow and lethargic from having spent so much time around the heavily drugged water. “You will not drug me and make me stupid.” Dree pushed hard, forcing the older woman to stumble backwards. The woman tried to hold on to Dree to keep from falling and succeeded in ripping Dree’s shirt when she fell. “Call the guards.” The woman scooted backwards from Dree, yelling at the drugged slaves. “Hurry. She is mad.” Dree wanted to yell at the old lady to shut up. There wasn’t time though. She couldn’t get caught. Jumping around the two worthless slave girls, she pushed against the heavy door. “You don’t look too clean to me.” The slave boy at the door was rather mouthy with the absence of guards. Dree shoved the boy, who was actually not much smaller than she was, into the bathing room. She shut the door, closing the four of them in the drug-filled room. Then glancing up and down the hallway, she chose the direction opposite where she’d come from. Potted plants, standing taller than she, with leaves as big as her face, blocked part of her view of the large foyer at the end of the hallway. But they also proved a good shield. She wrung out her hair, glancing down as she did at her soaked and torn clothes. There would be less chance of drawing attention to herself if she were naked. Footsteps sounded, approaching ahead. She pressed herself against the stone wall, its cold hard surface matching the atmosphere of the palace. “Do you think His Majesty will go along with it?” A man spoke, the footsteps slowing. Dree peeked around the large leaves spotting two men both wearing long cloaks. They weren’t dressed like everyone else. These two wore dark-colored clothes made out of material so thick she couldn’t see through them. Their bodies were completely covered. “That is why you are here, to ensure that he does.” The second man had lowered his voice, speaking so only his companion could hear him. The two men had stopped within feet of Dree. If she wanted, she could reach out and touch their strange clothing. Her body shook, but she dared not breathe, and did her best not to even blink. Long daggers hung from their belts. She could see laser guns strapped at their hips. Never before had she seen so many weapons all at once. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. Throughout her years as a sex slave, her body had never


responded to a male of any race the way it did right now. Her heart raced, although no longer from fear. Suddenly her breasts seemed swollen, an ache growing in them while her nipples hardened with need. Slowly the ache spread through her while she watched the two men. These two were the sexiest men she’d ever seen in her life. Chapter Two

The sooner Marc Torin could get out of King Sorale’s palace, the happier he would be. He’d shown up, as ordered. Now he just wanted to get the fuck out of there. “Don’t play games with the King.” Trent Dar gave him a shrewd look, those coal black eyes of his not blinking once. “He may appear insane, but know now Torin, he can be very cruel when he feels he’s been cornered.” “I didn’t corner him.” Marc stopped, glancing around them. He didn’t see anyone, but he didn’t trust the walls in this gaudy presentation of wealth. “If he viewed any of my comments as threats, that is for him to lose sleep over, not me.” “Don’t get too sure of yourself.” Trent Dar didn’t look around him, but kept that non-blinking gaze of his hooked on Marc. Marc wasn’t too sure of himself. His people suffered under the leadership of King Sorale, but he hadn’t figured out the best approach to solving the problem. When the King had complained that their communities flourished too much and that he needed more tax from them, Marc had refused. He hadn’t been surprised when the messengers from the palace brought the formal notice saying the King wished to see him. “All I am sure of is that today we don’t have to pay his damned tax.” Marc waved a hand at the marble walls. “Like he needs anything from any of my people.” Really all the King had control of was his kingdom, and he did a lousy job with that spread of land. Under all treaties on paper, King Sorale ruled all of Benox, but the man ignored everything outside his kingdom unless word got back to him that parts of the planet were flourishing too much. He looked down and something caught his eye. A puddle of water pooled from behind the potted plant. Maybe it had been overwatered. If so, it was the first thing out of place he’d seen since he had arrived here. But then he noticed something else. Feet. Small feet. Small, dirty feet. “What do we have here?” He looked around the potted plant into the terrified eyes of a young lady. At least he thought she was a young lady. Marc reached for her, pulling her out from behind the plant to get a better look. “What were you doing hiding behind there?” He had never seen a softer shade of gray than the color of her eyes. And the way she looked at him. Her body shook. He assumed she was terrified, but her eyes didn’t show fear—more like curiosity. “I want to see the King.” She didn’t sound like the drugged sex slaves that strolled throughout the courtyards. She spoke clearly, never looking away from him.


Trentmade a snorting sound, either disbelieving her or finding her humorous. Marc wasn’t sure. He glanced at the man who focused on the young woman. Marc returned his attention to her as well. “And you think standing behind a plant will get you an audience?” She gave him a look to kill. “Hardly. I ran from some of the guards. Who are you?” Her manner didn’t match her appearance. Marc didn’t know why he wanted to know more about her, but he did. She was absolutely filthy and smelled like she slept with the garbage, or worse. Her clothes were torn and hung on her, making it hard to see what she really looked like. But she didn’t wear the thin silk of the castle sex slaves. And she didn’t act like one. “I think I would know who you are first.” He looked down the hall when two of the castle guards approached them. Marc wasn’t sure why he felt the need to protect her. The young woman tried to yank herself free of his grasp. She turned also when she heard the guards approaching and he didn’t miss her terrified look. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his cloak away from his shoulder and pulled her against him. Then turning his back to the guards, he blocked her from view until they had passed. She didn’t fight his actions. Her body pressed against his. She was shaking, but he was able to feel what he’d been unable to see. Full round breasts pressed against his chest. Her thin, fragile body was soft when she seemed to melt against him. The young woman was all female. His protector instincts went into high gear. Marc ignored the amused lookTrentgave him. He waited until the two guards were out of sight and then moved his cloak. The young woman looked up at him. “I’m not sure why you did that, but thank you.” She moved, leaving his front half feeling a lot cooler than it had a moment ago. “May the gods be with you.” She turned to walk away and then looked at him over her shoulder, those gray eyes captivating him. “Which way to the King?” she asked. She was so petite, so dirty with her shirt torn exposing part of her shoulder. Yet at the same time she moved with dignity and self-confidence. Her actions definitely didn’t fit her appearance. That in itself piqued his curiosity. “Sending you to the King would be sending you to your death.” Trent Dar stole her attention with his words. “I’ll take my chances.” Her small tongue darted over her lips while she studied Trent. “You would have no chances.” Trent turned, looking down the hallway, and then toward the main courtyard. Voices came from the courtyard, laughter, a group slowly approaching. At the same time, the clomping of boots sounded from the other end of the hallway toward the King’s court. Marc grabbed the young lady before she could protest. “Let’s go.” She fought him less than he’d


anticipated while he guided her down the hallway, Trent covering the rear. No one questioned her being in his presence. They managed their way through the outer courtyard while the multitude of sex slaves paraded around with hardly any clothing on. Never before had sex been made to look so…filthy. He guided them out the large balcony doors, the suns welcoming him with their cleansing warmth. “Damn. I’m sure as hell glad to be out of that place,” he mumbled, Trent nodding his agreement. The young woman hesitated when he began leading her down the wide marble stairs toward the road. He turned to see her staring wide-eyed at the small cruisers and gliders hovering below. “How long has it been since you’ve left the castle?” he asked her quietly. She looked up at him, and then away toward the street. “I’ve been there since we arrived on Benox.” She looked down when she spoke, making it harder to hear her. He pulled her along until they reached his cruiser, anxious to get away from the crowds of greedy people. These weren’t his people. All he saw here were people who’d sold their bodies, sold their souls, in hopes of a better life. Or the slaves who’d never had a choice. None of them looked happy. Trent moved around the cruiser, pointing the ignition controller at it in order to unlock and open the doors. The gray door on their side lifted, causing the young lady to jump backwards. He held on tightly to her hand. “You’ve never been in a cruiser?” he asked her. She shook her head, her white hair fanning over her shoulders. “I can’t go with you.” She stared at the cruiser’s roof, then looked down inside at the black seats at the front where a driver and passenger could sit. The side door allowed her to see that back half of the cruiser, an open area where supplies could be stored. Yet at the moment, there was nothing in the back. “Yes. You can.” He lifted her, the softness of her body making it hard to let her go as he climbed in after her into the cargo area of the cruiser. “Get us out of here, Dar.” The Gren needed no further encouragement. The cruiser hummed to life. The woman dropped to her hands and knees, looking around her like a wild animal. “Why are you kidnapping me?” Marc would have sat in the seat next to Trent. But he wanted to be close to the woman. Even hunched over, appearing so primitive in her crouched position, she appealed to him. Her pants draped over her ass, giving him a decent view of its shape. She was thin but with curves that stirred him to life. Blood pumped to his cock, the thought of mounting her from behind, sliding deep into her heat, distracting him for a moment. “You aren’t being kidnapped.” He was curious why she would want to stay in her obviously wretched


existence. “What is your name?” “I am Dree of Torl and taking me against my will is kidnapping.” She braced herself when Trent lifted the cruiser off the ground, accelerating once they were airborne. “Who are you and where are we going?” Marc wiped a strand of hair from her face, its silk texture and the creamy soft feel of her skin adding to her appeal. A slave in such filthy attire would have rough skin, hardened muscles from hours of extensive labor. Dree of Torl didn’t appear to have a rough or hard spot on her. “I’m Marc Torin.” He watched for her reaction, but she offered none. Her soft gray eyes continued to look around the cruiser, taking in her surroundings. “And my traveling companion is Trent Dar.” “Where are you taking me?” She finally looked at him. Apparently neither of their names meant anything to her, or she was very good at masking her reactions. “We’re headed to the House of Torin. But we won’t make it there today. We’ll camp once we are out of King Sorale’s territory.” She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “You’ve got to take me back. Please. I can’t leave the palace. Not like this.” Marc saw now that she must have a very cruel master. Why her skin was so soft, her appearance so refined, he didn’t know. But she was terrified of some wrath she would face if she displeased someone. He reached for her, needing to touch her again. And he wanted to calm the worry he saw building in her. “You are more safe with the two of us than you would be anywhere else.” He felt her heart race when he took her wrist. “No one will hurt you.” “My people…” she began. Her words faded and she tried to pull her hand free. “You wouldn’t understand.” Marc tightened his grip, pulling Dree closer to him. She looked up at him when he brought her to him. The pain he saw in her eyes grabbed his heart. “Tell me.” He sat on the floor of the cargo area, pulling her into his lap. She shook her head firmly, pursing her lips as if to keep from speaking. But she didn’t fight him. Her soft round ass nestled between his legs. It was best to stop her before he wrapped his arms around her, resting her on top of his cock. He was a man with great control, years of warrior training, and skilled in using his mind and body. But it had been a while since he’d fucked a woman. There hadn’t been time. Too much was going on with his land and his people. Every moment had been focused on making sure the towns he governed were protected. Dree’s white hair fell over his arm, tickling his senses, wreaking havoc on his ability to think straight. She was stiff, unwilling to relax against him. But he held her hand in his, close to his body. The soft curve of her thigh under his other hand made him want to explore, stroke her until she relaxed. “I’ve made contact with our camp.” Trent made Dree jump when he spoke. “All is intact there.” “Good.” Marc moved his hand to Dree’s back, brushing his fingers over the rough material of her shirt.


More than anything he wanted to put his hand under her clothing, feel the warmth of her against him. “The King’s men are looking for us,” Trent added. The Gren paused for a moment and then added, “Maybe they want her.” “The King doesn’t care about any of us,” Dree murmured, but he didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “Don’t acknowledge his men. Keep going until you reach camp.” Marc watched Trent nod silently while Dree remained stiff against him. He looked down at her, letting go of her hand to take her chin in his hands so he could see her face. He lifted her face to his. “Would he be looking for you?” he asked her quietly. He held her head in his hands, cupping her chin while she looked up at him with those soft gray eyes. Her white hair, falling away from her face, accented her creamy skin. He rubbed his thumb against her face, the smoothness of it so enticing. “I don’t see why,” she said. “I doubt he even knows I exist.” There was something about how she looked at him. A complete stranger, yet he saw trust in her eyes. She wouldn’t relax, did nothing to encourage his actions while he held her, but he saw something in Dree he hadn’t seen in too many faces in the past. He saw wisdom and compassion. The way she looked at him, those large gray eyes searching his face, she knew he would take care of her. And her expression told him she had accepted that. “The King may not care, but he’s not as powerful as you might believe.” Marc ignored Trent when the Gren cleared his throat. He wouldn’t stoop to blindly supporting a king who was spineless. “Are you one of his slaves?” Many may fear the Gren, but Marc knew Trent Dar respected his authority. His opinion on what Marc should tell Dree and not tell her was noted. Dree straightened, her breasts brushing against the side of his arm when she moved. “We are not slaves.” The determination in her voice made him wonder what exactly her station was. “Then what exactly are you?” “My people were freed before we arrived on Benox.” She glanced around him, and then appeared to focus her attention on his chest. “The King has enough sex slaves to keep him busy; he has barely noticed we are here.” As beautiful as she was, he had a hard time believing she’d been completely ignored in the courts. And if the King had ignored her, then the man was a bigger fool than Marc had originally guessed. More than anything he wanted to tighten his grip on her, feel for just a second longer the soft roundness that had barely touched him. Her shirt was so baggy and ill-fitted that he had no hopes of seeing anything of her with it on. Once they got to camp, he would see about bathing her and getting her clean clothes, tighter-fitting clothes. As small as she was, that might prove a challenge. “Who exactly arewe ?” He wanted to know more about her, but as soon as he’d asked, he knew he


wouldn’t get an answer. Dree stared at him, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. “Just my people. I need to get back to them. They need me.” She was lying. He didn’t know why, but her trust in him had just faded. Chapter Three

For some reason getting out of the cruiser seemed like acknowledging Dree would never see her people again. She wanted to stay right where she was. Sooner or later this thing would return to the castle. It had to. And then she could get back to where she was needed. They had traveled a long way. She knew little about the planet Benox other than it was the largest planet in the solar system. When the side door opened it was dark outside, the second sun no longer visible on the horizon. The others would assume the King had killed her by now. Her heart ached for the anguish they would feel over assuming she was dead. “Don’t you want something to eat?” Marc stood outside a carrier, parked next to the cruiser they’d arrived in, holding his hand out to her. “I promise you that no one here will bother you.” She believed him. It hadn’t taken much to figure out that he was a leader among his own people. The other man traveling with Marc looked quite dangerous, with his coal black eyes that hardly blinked, and shiny long black hair. Both men were very large and muscular. The other man, Trent Dar, followed Marc’s instruction without question though. A sign that he trusted his leader. She doubted telling him again that she needed to return to the castle would do any good. “How long will we be here?” she asked instead. “Just overnight. We’ll head home tomorrow.” He didn’t smile. She hadn’t seen him smile yet. But even in the dark, his light blue eyes warmed her like a summer day. They probed her, seeming to be able to reach right into that part of her soul she kept hidden from everyone. She had a hard time looking away. “It’s okay.” He was trying to reassure her, moving closer while he reached for her. Dree looked down at his hand, so large and calloused. He worked hard doing whatever he did. Marc Torin had more muscles on his body than any man she’d been with before. Sitting in his lap all the way there had almost been more than she could handle. Even now her body tingled from having all of that strength wrapped around her. She’d tried being immune to him. But all of her training since she was a young girl in the fine arts of pleasing men and women and knowing how to act around them hadn’t prepared her for this man. Even trying to distance herself, pretend she was somewhere else, back on Torl, sitting in the master’s kitchen listening to the cooks gossip cheerfully. Nothing had worked in taking her mind off of his virile body, so masculine, so powerful, so much more than any man she’d ever fucked in her years as a sex slave. “Some food would be nice.” Maybe admitting to her hunger would help keep her mind off of Marc.


She slid her hand into his and realized that would be impossible. It had been days since she’d eaten more than a scrap or two. But when his fingers wrapped around her hand, the heat from his body washed through her, making her feel almost giddy. Trent Dar watched them when they approached two other cruisers parked near each other with a handful of men lounging around them. The others looked up too, their expressions curious. “This is Dree of Torl,” Marc told the group. “She is with me and will be treated with the utmost respect.” No one had ever introduced her like that before. She thought she might pass out from the fury of heat that flushed through her. Life as a slave seldom rated an introduction at all. The men straightened, taking in her filthy attire. She didn’t dare imagine what thoughts might be running through their heads. “Torl, huh?” one of them spoke up, an older man with thick gray whiskers. “Are you one of those sex slave traders?” A few chuckles came from the other men. Dree didn’t know what to say. These people thought she was an owner instead of a slave. Surely her appearance defied that as truth. Marc didn’t allow her time to respond. “She needs some privacy. Someone find her some clothes that fit until we are home.” Immediately the men jumped up. Within minutes one of the carriers was prepared for her to bathe in privacy. Dree couldn’t believe how warm the water was. A large tub had been placed inside the carrier. Towels and clean clothes lay beside it. She relished the steam that soaked through her skin while scrubbing the filth off of her with a small cloth. Growing up on Torl, she and the other ladies often bathed in the creek. Never had she experienced a bath as luxurious as this. “There is different soap that you use for your head.” Marc’s words surprised her, having not heard him enter. She swallowed too much water. The soap on her head trailed into her eyes. She straightened quickly, splashing water over her face. Marc’s large hand covered her face, the cloth wiping the soap away. “You startled me.” She blinked a few times, and then sucked in her breath when she realized he knelt next to the tub, his face so close to hers. “Lean your head back.” He brought up a pitcher she hadn’t noticed and dipped it into the water. No one had ever bathed her before. Dree felt foolish and in awe all at the same time. If this was a normal practice among Marc Torin’s people, she liked it very much. She leaned her head back and his hand came up to rest between her shoulder blades, offering her support. He seemed to hold her with that one large hand, while he scooped water with the other, and then poured it over her head. His fingers spread across her back, singeing her with the heat of his touch. Her insides smoldered, warmth rushing through her with enough force she would have slid right under the


water if he hadn’t held her so securely. Dree did her best to watch him, closing her eyes only when necessary to keep water out of them. He continually looked down her body, enjoying her nudity. Many men had seen her naked, living at Torl she often spent days without clothes on, entertaining whatever man she was given to. As many men and women who had touched her, enjoyed her body, explored every inch of her, she’d never had the sensation of being devoured the way she did now. Marc’s hand simply touched her back. His hands didn’t rub her breasts, his fingers didn’t brush over her nipples, and he didn’t explore her pussy. But something was different here. He straightened her so that he could rub liquid soap into her hair, those large hands amazingly gentle while he massaged her scalp. He didn’t try to fondle or caress her in any way. Nor did he speak. With quiet attentiveness to his task, he washed her hair. It was the way he looked at her. His eyes brushed over her, his gaze burning her skin. Without touching her anywhere other than her hair, he had her insides melting, her pussy throbbing with a lust unlike any she’d experienced before. She didn’t know how to react, what to do or say. Her heart began racing when he soaped up the washcloth and began cleaning her body. More than anything she wanted him to rub her breasts, soothe the growing itch in her nipples. It made no sense that his actions would stir her this way. The water cooled, yet she burned inside. A fire raged inside her, the throbbing growing deep inside her cunt while he ran the cloth over her arms, her back, and then her front. She gasped when the cloth ran over her breast, her nipple hardening while a tingling rushed through her. She didn’t understand. How many times had her breasts been fondled, sucked, tugged or pinched? This was just another man. It made no sense that her body responded with such need, such an intense craving for him to fuck her. “I’ve never seen a woman without tattoos.” His hand moved to her belly, coming dangerously close to the painful wave of heat she couldn’t control burning between her legs. “Now you have.” Tremors rippled through her when he reached into the water, lifting her leg. “You’re cold.” He began washing her faster, increasing the intensity of pressure that built to a dangerous level deep inside her pussy. “I’ll hurry.” He misunderstood her body’s reaction to his touch. Rinsing the cloth out one last time he rubbed it over her other leg thoroughly. Dree couldn’t stop the heat from streaming through her, coming while he cleaned her. She came, closing her eyes, riding out the intensity of her orgasm. He’d barely touched her. His actions weren’t sexual. And yet she’d just exploded with the best orgasm she’d experienced in a long time. None of this made any sense. Something must be wrong with her. Maybe she’d been bred to be fucked a certain amount of times daily and without sex her body acted strangely. She hadn’t been fucked in so long maybe she’d grown oversensitive. That would explain her inability to control how she reacted to Marc being so close, running his hands over her body, the roughness of the cloth sending her over the edge. When he stood, she saw the hard length of his cock pressing through his pants. She sucked in her breath, the twirling in her stomach spreading throughout her body. The trembling didn’t stop when she tried to get out of the tub, and step into the towel he’d opened for her.


“You’re kind to help me.” She let him wrap the towel around her, wanting to move closer into his warmth. “No. I’m not.” He didn’t pull her to him but instead let go of the towel, stepping away from her. He turned as if he might leave her alone. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been bathed before,” she confessed, hurrying to dry. For some reason she didn’t want to be left alone. Or maybe she didn’t want him to leave her. Whatever reason, she was being silly. The first chance she had, she would return to the castle. Her place was with her people, not with this stranger. “Tell me about Torl.” He surprised her with the request. “What do you want to know?” She dressed, looking up at him while she pulled the clean pants given to her up her legs. “It’s a beautiful place. I mean…it was a beautiful place.” Marc’s penetrating stare unnerved her. His gaze strolled down her, heat rushing through her wherever he looked. His cock was still hard, pressing against his pants. She knew if she touched it, ran her fingers along its length, it would be rock-hard, thick and throbbing, burning with the same fire that rushed through her. “Are you a sex trader?” he asked, moving forward to unfold the shirt provided for her. “No.” The pants were too big. She looked down, fidgeting with the waistband. Nothing she could do would make them fit her properly but she didn’t want to look up at him. His questioning would lead to him learning who and what she was. And she wasn’t sure how he would react to the knowledge. “I didn’t think so.” He handed her the shirt, which she took, still not looking at him. “But Torl is a place where sex slaves are sold and bred.” She nodded. It wasn’t a question, but she felt he waited for some kind of response from her. Dree jumped when he touched her. She hadn’t expected it. He would learn she was nothing more than a tool to please others, that she’d been with so many men, and women, she had lost count, that she had been merchandise, offered to the highest bidder. He would despise her, not want to reach out for her. “Dree.” Her name came out on a breath. His fingers wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up at him, his fingers pressing into her flesh while he raised her face to his. “You are no longer a slave.” “That’s right.” She couldn’t look away from him. His light blue eyes flooded with emotions she didn’t understand. Her heart began racing, her breath coming in gasps. She needed him to understand she hadn’t escaped from Torl, but had fled from her home. No one hunted her or cared where she was. “Torl is destroyed. The Bortan came and killed almost everyone. A few of us escaped here.” “So now you are free.” He nodded once, understanding. “And you shall stay free.” Her heart stopped for a moment. She swore it did. There was no way that he meant to ensure she remained free. The fire burning in his blue orbs made them so dark they looked dangerous. But it couldn’t be a passion to help her with her cause.


It was lust. Plain and simple. Somehow he managed to control his desires more than she. If given a moment to do what she wanted, she would demand he fuck her, beg him to take away the aching pressure he’d built inside her. Dree sucked in a breath, forcing her heart to resume beating. “Yes. I will keep my freedom.” And that meant at any cost. She would leave Marc and head back to her people to make sure that they stayed free, and found a decent life. She reached for her shirt, but he didn’t release her face. Instead his grip tightened, his fingers moving over her skin, torturing her with the slight movement. He held her face in place while he kissed her. When he’d bathed her, his touch, his actions, had been gentle. Marc wasn’t gentle now. His kiss was demanding, aggressive. A fire ignited into roaring flames inside her. Dree could barely breathe. She opened to him, parting her lips when he crushed his mouth to hers, feeding him while his heat burned through her. While traveling there, she’d refused to relax against him. It had taken so much for her to tune him out, not let his incredible body get to her. Now all of her strength had disappeared. Her fingers traced up his rock-hard chest, feeling his muscles ripple underneath his shirt. Men didn’t usually want to kiss her. They wanted her body. And her training had made her a very sensual lover. But this kiss, this incredibly sensual act performed on her mouth—she had no defense. She turned into a puddle of lust, a craving need billowing through her out of control. Marc gripped her shoulders then slid his hands over her feverish skin. When he cupped her breasts, charges of electricity shot through her, aiming straight for her pussy. The impact left her gasping. “Are you okay?” Marc broke the kiss, his face still inches from hers. Dree nodded, certain she couldn’t speak while his hands continued to knead her breasts, his thumbs strumming over her nipples. “We won’t tell anyone about this.” He moved his hands from her breasts, again gripping her shoulders. At least now she could think, sort of. His words made sense. It probably wouldn’t do for a man of his rank to be consorting with a former sex slave. She hid the small pang of disappointment that he would be ashamed of her. Straightening, she took the shirt he’d denied her a moment before. “That’s fine. I’ve no one to tell.” Marc watched her slip the shirt on, which came down almost to her knees. She was sure she looked ridiculous, but at least she was clean. “There is no reason for anyone to know about your past.” Marc seemed to be studying her. He tapped his finger to his lips, reminding her instantly of the intense heat that mouth had created within her. “It will go better for you if everyone believes you are of a higher rank.” “A higher rank?” She’d thought many times since they’d arrived here on Benox that more could be accomplished if she could change her identity. But until this moment, she hadn’t thought it possible.


“No tattoos will be hard to explain. And your name…” Marc walked around her. She turned, watching him. He moved with impressive silence considering how tall he was, how muscular. Just thinking about that solid chest made her fingers tingle, aching to touch him again. Her breasts were swollen, heavy, while her nipples still puckered in hopes he would return his attention to them. And the fire burning deep inside her, the pressure building in her pussy, was almost too much to handle. She wanted him inside her, deep inside her, pounding away the painful need he’d created. “What’s wrong with my name?” She needed to stay focused. All of her life she had followed orders, done as she was told. If she didn’t pay attention, this man would take over the role of her new master. She wouldn’t have that. Her freedom had come at too high a price to let go. “Nothing is wrong with Dree. It’s the Torl part that has me worried. Obviously there are those who will pick up on it as a slave trader name.” “But Torl is gone. The Bortan wiped out most of my home planet, Poltar. Most of the sex trader estates were destroyed.” Marc nodded. “I remember hearing about it in passing. The Bortan wanted the sex traders on Poltar to follow their rules, pay their taxes.” Dree had heard the politics discussed too, when she’d been in the company of her master. Torl had been so convinced the Bortan could never touch him. She fought the memory as it surfaced, watching her master’s home explode while he was inside. The Bortan had destroyed Torl land in less than an hour. She barely heard the carrier door open behind her. Marc moved quickly, putting himself between her and whoever would enter. The warm night air and the smell of the campfire immediately surrounded her. Trent Dar stepped inside, his large dark frame blocking the entrance, and making the space inside the carrier seem much smaller. “The King’s men have followed us.” He looked at Marc, and then past him to her. His black hair, straight and falling to his shoulders, bordered his brooding expression. Black eyes, blacker than night, studied her. Her heart began pounding; she was not sure if she liked the way he looked at her or not. He didn’t trust her, and she wasn’t sure why. Marc stepped to the side, blocking her view of Trent. And his view of her. “How close are they?” “Too close. They have carriers that are faster than ours, better equipped.” Marc looked down, rubbing his chin. If he could have, he probably would have paced. But the carrier barely allowed room for the three of them and the tub. When he took a step forward, Trent caught her attention with those intent black eyes. “What do they want?” She was looking at Trent when she asked, but she turned her attention to Marc. “Why were you at the castle?”


“In a matter of words, Marc told him the House of Torin will not submit to the King’s leadership.” Trent Dar’s words sunk through her like heavy bricks when she realized the King’s men were coming to take them captive. Chapter Four

“Have the armies prepare from home.” Marc reached for Dree, taking her smaller hand in his. “We’ll break camp and head that way. Even if we are overtaken by the King’s men, my armies should arrive in enough time to prevent too much damage.” The Gren nodded, turning to carry out his instructions. The best thing to do would be to get Dree out of the way. He doubted she had seen much combat, other than her world being destroyed. And he had no desire to add to her nightmares. Her warm hand felt clammy in his. She was frightened and he wished he could protect her better than what he had to offer. Walking through the dark campsite, his men hurried around them to disassemble everything. “Stay inside.” He lifted the carrier door they’d traveled in, holding her hand while she stepped into the back. “It will take a bit to tear down camp, but then we will head home. You’ll be safe here.” She looked like she might protest, her worried expression searching his face. The longer he knew her, the more intelligence she displayed. Dree nodded silently and backed into the carrier. More than anything he wanted to keep her by his side. Soon enough they would leave, and he would be with her then. But walking away, needing to confirm the reports, see the scanners, speak with his leaders, a longing to return to Dree overwhelmed him. There had been women before, lovers he’d visited when there had been time. But no one had ever filled him with a longing to fuck like Dree did. He wanted to know her, to learn every sweet curve of her body. And he needed to discover why she captivated him the way she did. Maybe Torl sex slaves had a secret to empowering their lovers. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to think about any of that now. There were too many matters at hand to focus on how sweet her mouth had tasted, how wonderful her plump, ripe breasts had felt in his hands. The way she had sunk against him when he kissed her made her seem a young lady, new to the ways of a lover, instead of a mature woman who had lived through more than most should ever have to. “I’ve contacted the House of Torin.” Trent Dar pulled his thoughts back to where they should be. “How long until camp is torn down?” Marc glanced around him. His men were moving quickly, collapsing the heat lamps and gathering the kitchen supplies they’d used to eat while he’d been at the castle. “We’ll be ready to head out of here soon.” One of his men spoke up, while all of them moved with the practiced speed of trained warriors. “Let’s put the equipment in the carrier.” Marc nodded to the computer and tracking equipment Trent had been using.


Within minutes they had collapsed the table and torn down the console used when on missions. Marc led the way to his carrier, computer in hand. Dree pushed the door open when they approached and surprised him when she eagerly reached to help load everything inside. This time, Dree sat cross-legged on the floor, her silky white hair reflecting in the light from the three moons. The clothes they’d found for her draped over her body, making it impossible to see any of that luscious body underneath. Her white hair was damp, strings of it draping over her shoulders that she shoved behind her back. Equipment stacked up around her but she didn’t seem to mind. Whenever he glanced down at her, her attention was on the computer Marc had braced in his lap. Those gray eyes seemed to catch every action, follow every detail. “Well hell.” The incoming message flashed on the panel drawing him away from focusing on Dree. Marc picked up the receiver, glancing at the screen as he did. “They are contacting us.” “Stop your cruisers by orders of King Sorale.” The King’s officer didn’t bother with introductions. Marc looked over at the panel in front of the Gren. “How long before we intercept with my men?” Trent pushed the button to open the scanner for long distances. “We’re just now picking up something.” He pulled the porta-comm from the dash, pushed the necessary buttons, and held it up to his ear. “Report in. What is your location?” He listened, and then turned to look at Marc. “We’ll intercept in two hours.” “Damn it to the hells.” He flipped the switch to open the line with the King’s guard. “We are no longer in the King’s jurisdiction.” “Do you refuse to honor the King’s wishes?” There was a challenge in the guard’s tone. Both knew that it would be as bad as an act of aggression for the leader of the House of Torin to refuse the King’s request. Marc didn’t doubt for a minute that the King finally figured out that he’d walked out of there without offering any reassurance that Torin would submit to him. “The King’s carriers have increased speed.” Trent Dar also increased speed. “We are under a tight schedule.” Marc decided to ignore the guard’s last comment. “Explain why the King would have us stop when there is no apparent reason to do so.” He reached between the seats where he and the Gren sat, and moved supplies off of the long silver case that held their weapons. Trent Dar glanced over at him, the silent acknowledgement in the Gren’s black eyes telling him what he needed to know. Marc wouldn’t instigate aggression when they were obviously so outmatched. But they would defend themselves. He would not submit to the King. “You have left with some of the King’s property.” Now the guard sounded annoyed. “You will stop your carriers immediately so that they can be searched. The King wishes his property returned.” Like hell he would. King Sorale wouldn’t see the day when Marc of Torin submitted to his wishes. The man was a scrawny idiot, had no sense of honor, and based a man’s worth on what he had that the King could steal.


He forced his jaw to relax so that he could speak to the guard without showing too much of his outrage that the King would assume he was no better than a common thief. “Return home and inform your King that we have nothing that belongs to him.” Marc leaned back in his chair, relaxing somewhat with knowledge that this was nothing more than one of the King’s silly games. “I apologize that your time has been wasted driving out of the King’s jurisdiction.” “Is the King’s sex slave so good that you would risk your neck for her?” The guard chuckled, sending a fiery rage through Marc. He straightened, suddenly realizing they were being chased down because of Dree. The Gren gave him a strange look, his usual brooding look turning questioning. Marc looked down at Dree. “You said you had your freedom.” She looked shocked, her pretty grays eyes opening wide. “I do. We have been ignored ever since we arrived on this planet.” “Someone saw her leave with us.” Trent looked straight ahead, his mouth forming a thin line. There was no way to detect what he was thinking. But the Gren spoke the truth. And now the King would use Dree being with them to his advantage; a woman with no rank, not even the status of one of the court’s sex slaves. Marc’s blood boiled with anger as he gripped the computer on his lap, wishing he could break it in half, wanting more than anything to direct his fury somewhere, hit something. “They will use her against you, Torin.” The Gren didn’t look at him, his large hands white-knuckling the controls of the carrier. He didn’t like this any better than Marc did. Marc flipped the switch to open communications with the King’s guard. “I will not tolerate being accused of thievery.” It was all he could do not to crunch the handheld device in his palm. The King itched to find something to hold against the House of Torin, but this was stooping so low it left a putrid taste in his mouth. “You return to your King and tell him we have nothing that belongs to him.” There was no response for a moment. He doubted the King’s men aboard the carriers pursuing them had any knowledge of the truth. They followed their orders blindly. Men like that repulsed him. When the light flashed on the black communication device in his hand, he focused on it, the muscles tightening painfully throughout his body. Dree had no way of defending herself against King Sorale. And the thought of that bastard laying one of his bony fingers on her was enough to put Marc into a rage. Marc pushed the button, allowing the guard to speak. “Stop your carriers. Now.” “They’re on our ass.” Trent Dar wasn’t a man who got nervous. He looked at Marc, waiting for the order to stop. Marc glanced at the steely expression on the Gren’s face and then down to the wide-eyed look of panic on Dree’s face. Marc nodded to Trent, who immediately slowed the carrier, while sending out messages to the two other carriers his men were in to stop. Dree braced herself on the floor while the engines slowed, her soft


hair falling around her face when she looked down. Marc waited until they’d stopped, and then reached for Dree. His fingers easily wrapped around her arm. She didn’t look up at him, but focused on his hand, her small tongue darting out to dampen her lips. His cock stirred at the slight movement of her mouth, remembering too easily how sweet she had tasted when he’d kissed her. “I won’t let them take you.” He wanted her to believe she was safe with him. They knew little about each other, and he wouldn’t blame her at all for worrying about her immediate safety. But he wouldn’t allow King Sorale to use her to get to him. Dree nodded, not looking up. Her action showed little trust, little faith. Her world had been destroyed. He wasn’t sure how she’d ended up here but he had all the faith in the assumption that she hadn’t been treated well since she’d arrived. If her appearance when he first met her was an example, the King certainly hadn’t given her a thought. Until now. He looked at the Gren. “Stay in here with her.” Trent Dar’s expression didn’t change. Those hard black eyes simply watched him. Marc opened his door, stepping out onto the uneven ground. Darkness surrounded them, the lights from the surrounding cruisers rushing across the field, outlining the tall grass that swayed around the large carriers. He turned to see two of the King’s men walking toward him, several more standing back, and probably circling around the carriers. Warning lights triggered inside him, his instinct to fight and defend what was his rushing through his veins. “You will open your carriers so that we may search them.” The taller of the two guards stopped just a pace away, the huge man spreading his legs and placing his hands on his hips as if his size might intimidate Marc. The urge to toss the brute across the field almost overtook him. “There will be no search. The woman in question is with us. But she is not a sex slave. Nor does the King have any claim on her.” The guard behind the spokesman for the two stiffened, his hand moving to his weapon on his belt. Marc watched the act and then looked at the man in front of him in the eyes. Neither of these two were his match. And he had no doubt he would win if he took them on. But he wasn’t sure where the other guards were, and wouldn’t put it past the King’s guards to ambush him. “You take her word on the matter over the King’s?” the guard asked him, taking a half step closer. As if that would intimidate him. “I do.” Marc didn’t budge. “Our orders stand.” The guard straightened to his full height, a good couple of inches taller than Marc. But then all of the King’s men were bred for height and strength—not brains. “We will take her with or without your consent.”


The door to the carrier slid open behind him, catching the guards’ attention. Marc turned and watched Dree step down to the ground, with the Gren right behind her, his intent gaze immediately on the King’s men. Dree’s oversized clothing made her look like a child. But when she looked up, even in the dark, he saw her terrified expression. There was something else though. Something possibly akin to determination when she looked from him, to the guards past him. “I am the one you are looking for.” She spoke clearly, although the hint of nervousness in her voice couldn’t be missed. “I am ready to return to the castle.” The guard reached for her and Dree jumped back, her actions instinctive. Marc stepped between her and the King’s men. Hatred and outrage over everything the King stood for pumped through him. He needed to stay focused, to realize he couldn’t put Torin on the line for a beautiful former slave simply because she stirred something in him that no other woman had stirred before. Her small hand touched his arm, her gentle warmth flooding through his clothing, searing his skin. Turning to look at her, he noticed those moist gray eyes of hers pleaded with him. His heart constricted, his anger only increasing that such an exotic creature would willingly turn herself over to the King. “My people need me.” She spoke so softly he had to concentrate to hear her. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. The tremble in her movement revealed the fear she tried to mask with bravery. “And they are at the castle. I need to go back.” She’d told him that since he’d taken her from there. Dree swallowed, glancing again at the guards and then up at him. Her tongue moved over her lips, his insides hardening while he watched her. It would take little effort to take down these two men. The other guards were nearby, but so were his men. They were well-trained and loyal to him. He had all the faith in the suns that he could prevent them from taking her. “This is what you want?” he asked her, needing to convince himself that forcing her to stay with him was treating her no better than the slave she’d been all her life. Dree nodded and ran her hands down her clothing. She stepped around him, moving closer to the King’s guards. Marc planted his feet on the ground, watching while the small woman, with more courage than grown men twice her size, walked between the King’s men to their carrier. Everything inside him wanted to attack, to end the continued atrocities the King displayed. But this more than anything he’d witnessed over his years, to see Dree walk away from him, possibly to endure torture beyond what he cared to imagine, ate him alive. Torin had grown under his leadership, his people flourished, enjoying a life envied by the rest of Benox. The King despised Marc, and his father before him, for the good lives the people of Torin enjoyed. Hard work, honest labor, and the willingness to fight to keep their freedom. That is what Torin had. King Sorale offered poverty, disease, and unfair and unjust laws. His people hated and feared him. And what Marc had witnessed while at the palace, the sex arenas, the rape rooms, the King had some perverse kinks. Dree climbed into the King’s cruiser, her head lowered with her hair fluttering around her face. She never looked his way but disappeared inside, the door shutting silently behind her.


“Damn it to all the hells,” Marc muttered, frustration overwhelming him. This might be the last time he saw her alive. He wasn’t sure he could live with that knowledge. “Let’s go.” Trent Dar stood next to him. He glanced at the Gren who wasn’t looking at him, but at the King’s cruisers as they backed away from them and slowly turned around. “There are duties at Torin.” Marc turned around, noticing his men standing behind him, having appeared from where they’d been hiding and waiting, once they realized there was no need to defend their leader. He climbed into the cruiser and the rest of them turned silently, ready to head home. There was a sense of discontentment in the air though. None of them were pleased with Dree heading back to the palace. They all knew what awaited her there. Chapter Five

Dree stood silently and watched while the two kitchen slaves dropped the dead body into the ground. There was no ceremony, no words spoken, just another one of them dead, forgotten the moment her last breath left her body. The smell of the dirt, the fresh blood on the young girl’s body, all of it turned Dree’s stomach. The few people standing in the field, some from Torl, a couple who worked in the castle, stood silently in the morning chill—quiet. Dree closed her eyes, the metal shovel making a thudding sound as it hit the ground, filling the shallow grave the former Torl slave lay in. A week had passed since the guards had dumped her at the trash dump by the palace. The King had never sent for her, nothing had changed. The moments she’d had with Marc of Torin seemed like nothing more than a dream now, her reality having returned. Thinking of him made her heart ache, the pain spreading through her until her entire body throbbed with regretful pain. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she did her best to ignore the intense emptiness inside her. This wasn’t right. Little by little every one of them who left Torl was dying. Abused and mutilated at the hands of the King. They were no longer slaves, but this wasn’t freedom. “Best head back before we are seen out here.” Bean shivered against the morning breeze. Dree rubbed his good arm, making sure not to touch him anywhere that might hurt his sore hand. “I don’t think anyone cares where we are.” “As long as we don’t disappear.” He referred to her leaving with Marc of Torin. All of them had heard about her misadventure, had listened in silent awe while she told them about it around the smoldering coals outside the back doors of the kitchen. “I think if we left without involving someone the King didn’t like, he wouldn’t notice.” They had


discussed this before. Bean shook his head, and like the others, the thought terrified him. Her brief escapade had convinced the rest of them that leaving would make things worse for them than staying here and waiting their turn to be tortured as the King’s play toy. None of them knew the land. They had no skills, no money or clothing or means of taking care of themselves. The small group who were left from her home planet were doomed to live out their days waiting for the King to decide to make them the entertainment for the evening. And they’d all quickly learned how perverted and demented his type of entertainment was. “The King will be having his guests arriving for the aligning party.” Tork, the bulky kitchen slave who handled butchering the meat for the King, fell in alongside the two of them. “If you want to disappear, now would be the time to do it. King Sorale will be busy entertaining, and most likely too drunk to care if you leave.” Something inside Dree fluttered to life. “Would you help us?” Although not from Poltar, the native-born slave had befriended the small group of sex slaves when they’d stumbled into the palace what seemed like a lifetime ago. She looked into his scarred face, his squinty eyes focused ahead of them. “Dree. What are you thinking?” Bean whispered, looking around them as if anyone would be listening this early in the morning in the dung heap side of the castle. Her thoughts had instantly gone to Marc, his tall, well-built body a pillar of strength and cocky confidence. Memories swam through her of his blue eyes filled with lust while he watched her, those soft brown curls bordering the strong features of his face. She could still feel his strong hands washing the dirt from her body, exploring her, praising her. It would never happen that a man with so much power, a leader of his people, would ever take a serious interest in her. But she couldn’t deny the flush of heat that ran through her at the thought of seeing him again. Like that would ever happen. “We have nothing here.” She wished Bean would be stronger, would act like half the man he could be if he would just try. “And we would have nothing anywhere else we went. So why leave?” It had been like that all week, all of them arguing in hushed whispers about whether they should try to flee for their lives or not. And that is what they would be doing. Just like when they ran from Torl, the only home they’d ever known, while it exploded in flames around them. “I just said now would be the time to do it if you were going to leave.” Tork looked at his hand, and then wiped it against his trousers leg. “Don’t know how I would help you though.” Dree smiled up at the big brute of a man. “You could protect us. You know this land better than we do. Oh Tork, it would be so much easier to go if you went with us.” “He is one of the King’s slaves though. Tork would be missed.” Bean had a point. Dree sucked in her lower lip, chewing on it while she tried to devise a plan. The last thing she wanted was for more of them to get hurt if they left the castle.


They’d reached the lower end of the castle and stood outside the outer kitchen door. People moved around them, focused on waking up and their tasks for the morning. Green wood burned in the pit outside where the trash was burned. Someone had dumped the remnants of breakfast into the flames, filling the air with thick smoke and ripe odors. No one paid attention or cared that they stood talking. “They deliver fresh meat before sunup every morning.” Tork scratched his balding head with his thick short fingers. “Maybe the driver could give you a lift out of here.” “Where would we go?” Dree smelled leftover meat fat burning, more than likely the breakfast scraps from the slaves in the King’s court. Her stomach growled. “We?” Bean shook his head adamantly. “This won’t work.” “I’m not leaving you here,” she hissed at him. “Or any of us from Poltar. Don’t you see, Bean? We are all just sitting here waiting for our turn to die.” She pointed toward the field where the shallow grave was. Turning back to Tork she pressed. “Would you check with the driver? See if he would take us out of here?” Tork shrugged, looking at her with puffy eyes. “I don’t know what’s out there for you, Dree. But I’ll check.” She didn’t see Tork over the next few days. Dree hung out around the fire pits late in the evening, listening to the peddlers who stumbled around to the backside of the castle looking for handouts from the kitchen. From what she heard, those who lived outside the castle didn’t have it much better than she did. King Sorale ruled with a harsh hand, making sure no one gained too much. She remembered the look on Marc’s face when he confronted the King’s men. He was ready to attack. And if she hadn’t intervened, she wouldn’t have been surprised if there were bloodshed. At the time, she believed he fought for her. But now she wondered if it hadn’t been a deeper-seated hatred, a disgust for how the King ruled the land. The remnants of trash in the pit glowed while the fire dwindled. There was more heat standing close to the others around her than there was from what remained of the fire. Dree stood among them, barely noticing their idle ramblings, or the stench from so many unbathed bodies, and let her thoughts drift as they did too often lately. Marc of Torin crept into her dreams, stayed with her while she kept busy during the day, and distracted her in the evening. She imagined his hands brushing over her skin. The crowded backyard of the castle no longer offered a chill. Warmth traveled through her while the thoughts of Marc caressing her heated her with a feverish desire. No one in the castle compared to his magnificent good looks. Even during her adult years on Poltar at the house of Torl, no man she’d had sex with came close to the sexy good looks Marc had. Those blue eyes of his, so intense while they didn’t seem to miss a thing happening around him. She swore there were moments when he watched her, when he was just a breath away, right there within her grasp. An ache she couldn’t make go away consumed her. She imagined where he might be right now, in some magnificent hall, everyone laughing and happy around him. Her pussy throbbed while she pictured him, gallant and fair, enforcing the law of his land.


The throbbing built, the ache growing into a painful pressure. Her breasts seemed swollen, her nipples aching for his warm mouth to cover them, suck on them, while she impaled herself on his thick long cock. His shaft would fill her, while her pussy clamped down on him, her juices soaking both of them. Just thinking about how it would be to fuck him had her wet, her own juices trickling, dampening her pants between her legs. Dree sighed, staring through the darkness at the strangers who stood around the dying embers in the trash heap. The empty longing inside her didn’t fade, but she fought to ignore it, focusing on their quiet conversations. “Business will be good with the town preparing for the aligning.” The man next to her nodded his agreement with something someone else had said. He looked at her like she would agree with him. “Now’s the time to make a deal, don’t you think, missy?” “She’s from Torl.” One of the cook’s sons poked his finger into her arm. “You ever been to an aligning party, Dree?” She shook her head, not wanting to admit she didn’t know what the party was about. The stranger next to her stuck his thumb toward the sky. “When the planets align there is always a celebration. Half-price travel to any of them they say.” “Like you could leave Benox,” someone on the other side of the trash pile called out. “Like you could afford to leave King Sorale’s empire,” another hissed. “How would you leave his empire?” Dree asked. The immediate comments offered various means. “You want to leave the castle, do you miss?” The man next to her eyed her carefully. Dree didn’t have much experience with backstabbing thieves. But she wasn’t born yesterday. She shrugged, making light of his question. “I doubt there is anywhere better to go,” she said, hoping someone would suggest something worthwhile. “Only if you want a decent day’s work.” One of the raggedy women she couldn’t see too well said that. The others around the burning embers of trash laughed in agreement. “Who offers decent work?” She knew she pushed the conversation, and didn’t want to raise suspicion. These people moved around the town though, living where they could find shelter. She had a feeling they might know a fair bit, if they were willing to give straight answers. “The farms on the edge of the empire do,” the cook’s son next to her spoke. “You have to have muscle though.” He poked her again, this time harder. “I doubt they are hiring for what you are good for.” She wanted to punch him. The others laughed easily and she didn’t ask any more questions.


It was cold and dark later that night when Dree woke from a nightmare. Flames everywhere, hot, singeing her clothes, while children screamed and explosions sounded. She sat up, working to catch her breath while her heart raced. “Marc.” She uttered his name, crying out in a hoarse whisper for help. Rubbing her eyes, she exhaled, looking around her at what was left of the House of Torl. Bundled in torn blankets, their clothes twisted around them, the only people she loved in the solar system slept soundly. “What is it?” Pren pushed herself up and leaned on her elbow. She combed her hair out of her face with her fingers, squinting as she looked at Dree. “I had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” Dree tried to sound calm, to reassure the woman who was her same age so she wouldn’t pester her with questions. Once their master’s favorite, Pren still had a regal look with her high cheekbones and full pouty lips. Dree wondered how the King, or his guards, hadn’t found her yet. “You said that man’s name again,” Pren prompted, unable to leave it alone. “Are you going to go after him?” Dree had known Pren all of her life. And although she trusted her, the woman would talk if lured properly. There was no way to know how anyone in the King’s court might react to her knowing Marc of Torin. All she knew for sure was that the King and Marc didn’t like each other. She shrugged. “I have no idea where he is.” “But you want to leave here.” Pren looked down at Bean, who mumbled something in his sleep and then rolled over, his heavy breathing letting them know he hadn’t woken up. “We aren’t safe here.” Dree looked around the small back room, once a pantry, that the group of them shared. “We don’t have enough food, no beds. There has got to be something better for us.” Someone moved beyond the open doorway that led out to the kitchen. Both of them stared into the darkness, watching the shadow angle across the floor. More than likely one of the slaves sneaking into the pantry to steal food, an act that would get them whipped until they were unconscious, if caught. Dree held her breath, praying whoever it was wouldn’t bother them. Her heart raced in her chest until eventually, the person gathered whatever it was that they wanted, and left the kitchen. She heard Pren sigh with relief. It took a moment for her own heart to settle back down so she could talk. Pren looked over at her. “You’re right. We aren’t safe here,” she whispered. “But where would we go?” “I think if we could get out of town, we would be able to figure something out.” Dree wouldn’t share her plans, they were so sketchy, and she hadn’t figured out too many of the details. Pren nodded and then lay back down. “Let me know when you’ve got it figured out. I’ll go with you.” All of them would go together. Dree had already decided that. But she nodded, lying back down


alongside the wall and one of the children. She shivered against the draft that crept through the cracks in the floorboard. Closing her eyes, she imagined Marc of Torin watching her, his intense blue eyes capable of knowing her thoughts without her saying a word. Just thinking about him caressing her, running his hands over every inch of her like he had when he bathed her, was enough to distract her from the hard floor and the cold night air tickling her backside. Dree pressed her legs together, the intense pressure that wouldn’t go away deep inside her pussy starting to pulsate. Her clothes were baggy enough that she could run her hand down her body, tracing chilling patterns over her skin the way she imagined Marc doing. Her body tingled with excitement, the only satisfaction she could offer herself these days, rubbing her clit with her fingers and fingering herself until she came. The throbbing pain in her pussy, the emptiness that craved being filled, was hardly satisfied with her fingers, but it was all she had. Parting the sensitive flesh with her fingers, she cringed over how hairy she was. Once her body had been shaven smooth, oiled and moisturized daily. But now, ignored here in the castle, she hardly ever had fresh water to bathe in, let alone a razor to use on her body. She pressed the swollen nub that beat with a throbbing that matched her heart, using two of her fingers to squeeze and caress it until she was coated with her thick cream. Stroking her entrance, she imagined Marc’s larger hand there, his focused expression watching her while he rubbed her pussy. Dree sucked in a staggered breath. More than anything she wanted his long thick cock pressing against her, eager to enter her, to fill her until she couldn’t take anymore. Her nipples tingled, her breasts full and heavy, aching to be sucked and played with. Every inch of her body craved more than what she had to offer. Even after she stabbed her fingers deep inside her, rubbing her inner pussy walls while she pressed deeper, the ache wouldn’t subside. Never had she dreamed she would get to this point, craving sex as desperately as she did now. But it was more than a good fucking; her body was on edge, one large nerve ending exposed and vulnerable, and the only satisfaction would be Marc. She told herself this was nothing more than an infatuation, a natural reaction to a hero who had momentarily offered her something that she couldn’t have. Maybe any man would do. Pren had done it; Dree knew that. Her friend had allowed one of the guards to fuck her simply to take away the edge. No matter how much she considered the idea, it did nothing for her. None of the men she saw around the castle appealed to her. And although she’d spent a lifetime fucking whoever she was told to fuck without giving it a thought, things were different now. And she knew the moment that they changed. It wasn’t her freedom that made her suddenly picky about what cock entered her body, it was meeting Marc of Torin. Now no other man would do. Dree pressed her fingers along the inside warmth of her pussy, feeling her thick moisture wrap around her fingers. Her muscles clamped down, quivering while she stroked herself. The pressure built deep in the core of her pussy, so intense she wished she could pass out. She knew she would die if she couldn’t come soon. She just knew it. Adjusting her legs slightly, parting them so she could reach a deeper spot in her cunt, she spread her fingers, twisting her hand while she fucked herself. Her hot cream soaked her hand while she imagined Marc over her, his muscles gleaming from sweat while he pounded her with his rock-hard cock. It was all she could do not to cry out when the dam broke inside her, the pressure receding while her body


quivered with her orgasm. Sliding her fingers out, she sucked on them, keeping her eyes closed while she savored her own rich flavor. Marc was smiling down at her, pleased that she had found pleasure, happy that she had come. She rolled over, cuddling into the child next to her for warmth even though her body wasn’t as cold as it had been minutes before. Smiling back at the image of Marc in her mind, she finally fell asleep. Chapter Six

“Are you Dree of Torl?” The male voice behind her made Dree jump. She turned around, looking up at the huge guard. Her heart swelled into her throat and started beating furiously as her palms instantly grew moist. “Yes.” She choked on the word and cleared her throat while glancing over at Bean. The two of them had just finished talking to one of the farmers who delivered to the castle. Like all of the others, he wanted nothing to do with transporting anyone off of the castle grounds. “Come with me.” The guard reached for her, his gloved hand wrapping around her arm before she could protest. “What have I done?” She did her best to keep up with his long strides as he walked her across the grounds back to the castle. Grabbing the baggy pants that Marc had given her at the waist, she held on to them so they wouldn’t slide down her while the guard hurried her across the yard. “I don’t ask questions and you shouldn’t either.” His rough grip on her brought back memories of being brought back here after being taken from Marc of Torin. Dree glanced back at Bean who was already hurrying in the other direction. He would tell the others she’d been taken. They would assume it would be a matter of time before they were dropping her into a shallow grave in the ground. The lump in her throat swelled, while her stomach twisted into a painful knot. The King had requested to see her. But why? The guard took her through one of the side doors that led down a long hallway toward the inner courtyard. She’d been this far inside the castle only once before, and that was when she’d met Marc. Her heart pounded in her chest when the doors were opened for them and once again she moved across the open courtyard. The world around her transformed from hunger and filth to beautiful people lounging and flirting with each other. Sweet-smelling air filled her nostrils, adding to the clean, serene setting before her. Her surroundings reminded her of how filthy she was, with over a week since she’d bathed. She refused to part with the clothes Marc had given her, not that she had anything else to wear, and her fingers were all she had to comb her hair. Hot embarrassment ran through her while the other women watched her, curiosity and repulsion masking their faces. The material of her clothes was foreign, thickly woven and impossible to see through.


“This way.” The guard yanked her arm almost out of her socket as he dragged her across the courtyard. He was making a show out of taking her to the King. Dree couldn’t figure out what she had done to deserve such humiliation. The painful knot in her stomach grew when she thought that this might just be the beginning of being disgraced. Their footsteps echoed in the hallway similar to the one where the drugged baths were. After crossing through several smaller courtyards, they approached two steeple-shaped wooden doors, their long thick handles adding to their gothic appearance. For some reason, Dree knew nothing good happened beyond those doors. Her knees began shaking. Over her years living at Torl, her master had purchased sex slaves who would share nightmares of abuse and pain at the hand of evil and sadistic men and women. Dree’s stomach turned, the thick knot rising toward her throat when the guard reached for the handle. “What’s in there?” Her voice quavered, fear gripping her like an angry lightning bolt, freezing her in her tracks. The guard pushed the door open. “The King,” he told her, looking down at her, sneering. “And you’ll do well not to cower and cry in his presence. It’ll only go worse for you. I guarantee it.” Dree looked up at the giant of a man who had a death grip on her arm. He turned toward the door though, dragging her through it without another word. But she heard what he’d just said to her, and knew that he spoke with experience. Straightening, she forced the panic back down to the well of her gut, and stood as tall as she could while walking alongside the huge man. The long room she entered almost took her breath away. Arched ceiling with passionate colors portrayed scene after scene of sexual acts. There were marble statues of naked men and women posed in lewd and compromising positions. A detailed statue of a woman on her hands and knees, sucking a man’s cock while being fucked from the rear by another man stole her attention momentarily. This room by far surpassed her master’s entertaining area back on Torl. Everywhere she looked something sexual caught her eye. Rumors of the King’s perversions had not been lies. “What have you brought her in here for?” A whiny-sounding man, small and bony, stepped in front of the two of them. He put his hands on his hips, his lip curling in disgust while he tsked at her appearance. “You can’t present something like that to the King.” “King Sorale asked for her.” The guard stopped, but didn’t sound intimidated by the small man’s question. The man, whose age Dree couldn’t guess, ran nicely manicured fingers through his thick dark brown hair. He glared at the guard, as if annoyed that he even had to address him, then turned his attention to her. He didn’t stand much taller than she did. Dree made sure she stood as straight as possible, the way her mistress often had when dealing with a man who had a bit too much of an ego. “What is it that you do here?” She did her best to sound sure of herself. “I’ve been manhandled enough by this guard. And I have no idea why the King wishes to see me.”


“His Majesty will let you know why when you are presented to him.” The man’s disgusted look didn’t leave his face. He turned away from her, clapping his hands together twice. “Take her to the bathing room. The King certainly can’t see her looking like that.” “I’m not yours to command.” The guard pushed her into the small man. “You take her to the bathing room.” Dree straightened quickly, running her hands over her oversized clothes, more to wipe the moisture from her damp palms than to make any attempt to straighten her appearance. She knew she couldn’t possibly look decent in what she was wearing. The small man grunted, not showing fear but more like disdain. “Come on then.” Dree thought about refusing to follow him, but hadn’t she wanted to see the King for a while now? She seriously doubted talking to him would help her people at this point. But something had to be done. They walked along the side of the long room. Small groups of people huddled here and there, chatting idly. She didn’t look at any of them, instead focusing on the magnificent statues carved in various positions and from different types of rocks. They were incredible. And although she tried hard to focus on the detail when they walked past each one of them, none of them put her nerves at ease. The small man stopped in front of a nondescript door, opening it without ceremony. Dree followed him down a narrow hallway until he opened another door and stood to the side for her to enter. “When do I go to the King?” she asked, glancing inside and then turning her attention to her escort. “When he wants to see you.” He gestured with his head for her to enter. This time, bathing proved a simple matter. No one paid too much attention to her in the large room, where others were gathered, obviously waiting for the opportunity to say their piece with the King. She managed to find a washing area, mainly used for those who had traveled to primp a bit so they were presentable for the King. The sight she stared at in the mirror on the wall made her gasp. “I’m a wreck,” she groaned out loud, staring at the atrocious sight reflected back at her. Her hair was no longer silky but tangled and almost matted in places. Her skin had grown rough, and she looked worse in the clothes Marc had given her than she thought. She couldn’t have looked much different over a week ago. What in the world had that man seen in her? Apparently, she had plenty of time to prepare herself. No one came to get her. Others around her took up lodging in corners, or wherever they found room, getting comfortable while they waited. “Well, at least you don’t have the Bortan staying at your Inn.” An older woman huffed while she complained. The words stabbed right through Dree. Memories of watching her master’s home explode, the countryside she had loved burn, and smoke billowing around her making it impossible to breathe invaded her mind with a painful vengeance. “You know they stink because their human parts decay.” Another woman spoke with a hushed voice.


Dree’s hands trembled while she tried to rinse the soap from her face and hair. Her feeble efforts to clean herself up suddenly proved a task too complicated to finish. Panic rushed through her at the thought of the Bortan. It sounded like they were here in town, possibly for the Alignment Ceremony. Just thinking of how she might see one of them made her skin crawl. She hated the King even more for allowing them on this planet. “Dree of Torl.” A guard stood at the doorway, calling her name, while glancing around at the room full of people. She’d barely had time to adjust her clothing, using a rope belt to hold the shirt and pants in place in the middle of her body. Her hair was still damp, but she was clean. Dree walked through the room, her head held high, doing her best to appear anything other than a former slave. The future of her people relied on her actions over the next hour. And she was terrified. Once again she entered the magnificent room where the erotic statues poised in silent sensuality bordered the walls. This time men and women stood along the walls, blocking her view of most of the artifacts. She saw Bortan among the people, and icy chills ran down her back. Dree stood between two guards. “You will walk between us to the King,” one of them instructed, and she did her best to nod. Her mouth was so dry she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak. The knot in her stomach twisted in wrenching pain, her lips trembled and her knees were almost too shaky for her to walk. Somehow she had to present herself as confident though, or her life and the lives of the few of them left from Torl would be over. She struggled to swallow while walking between the two guards toward the King. The people on either side of her watched her, eyeing her clothing, sizing her up, whispering among themselves. She had to ignore them. The best thing to do would be to pretend none of them were there. How many times had she done that with her Master on Torl when she’d sucked his cock in front of crowds? Dree focused ahead at the figure sitting on the throne and paid no attention to anyone around her. When they reached the altar setting where the King lounged on a comfortable-looking, oversized chair, Dree almost stumbled when she was supposed to curtsy. The sight that caught her eye wasn’t what she was prepared to see. Pren from Torl was on display to the side of the King. Her arms and legs were tied to poles, her body stretched naked for all to see. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, and her arms were pulled taut, her body extended in the shape of an X. Pren had been whipped, the red lashes streaking across her chest and pussy standing out against her creamy white skin. Her breasts and hips had been gripped hard enough that bruises shaped like handprints could be seen from where Dree stood. Her nipples had clamps on them, gold studs that glistened against the light in the large room. Her shaved pussy was red and inflamed, giving indication that she’d been fucked repeatedly by more than one person, or possibly more than one object. Pren’s hair covered her face, which was bent forward, her chin almost touching her chest, her white hair falling in strands to the top of her breasts. From her heavy breathing, Dree could only guess she had been the focus of some form of demented entertainment right before Dree had been called. Pren was conscious and in pain. Her humiliation probably made her hide her face. Dree’s insides tightened with disgust and fear over what they had done to the woman. Although never close, she detested torture inflicted on another person simply to amuse


those with more power. Her heart raced in her chest that she might be next. Her stomach turned and bile rose to her throat. “This is the traitor in my midst?” The King’s question seized her attention. Looking away from Pren, she focused on King Sorale. He was younger than she’d expected, and actually good-looking, in a sinister way. He sat at an angle in the chair, one leg resting over the arm. He raised an eyebrow at her, his cocky smile appearing anything but friendly. “If you believe me a traitor, you’ve been misinformed.” Her voice sounded louder than she’d expected, surprising her when it echoed off the high ceilings. A hush fell over the room. King Sorale straightened, narrowing his gaze on her, not speaking for a moment. She guessed his intention was to intimidate her. He was doing a damned good job, but for whatever reasons, she didn’t want him to see that. Pren lifted her head slowly, glaring at Dree through the strands of hair that stuck to her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and one side of her mouth swollen. There was a look of hatred on her face. Dree wanted to run to her, pull her down, soothe her until the woman could fall asleep. “Oh. Have I?” The King stood, running fingers covered with large rings over the sides of his pants, coming dangerously close to stroking his cock. “So you deny any displays of disloyalty to your King?” Dree bit her lip. It was a trick question. And she had no idea what the charges were. Her hatred for this man grew tenfold while she watched him stroll over to where Pren hung, stretched and vulnerable, her tortured nudity a blatant reminder of what the King was capable of. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” The truth had to be the best approach here. Quivers of panic threatened to take over. But she had to hide her fear. Remembering the guard’s words when she entered the hall, she knew if she let the King bully her she would never survive. King Sorale picked up Bosha tails that were on a small table along the wall by Pren. Holding the thin rod, he ran coarse hairs that came from the tail of the large Bosha animal at the end of the rod across Pren’s belly. The woman’s muscles tightened, but she managed an odd little smile for the King. “My precious little slut here tells me you are anything but an idiot. Do you mock your King?” He smiled back at Pren, but then turned a shrewd look her way. “You are not my King.” The words were out before Dree could stop them. A very uncomfortable silence fell heavy in the room. There was the clicking of metal and Dree turned to notice several Bortans standing nearby. Her mouth went dryer than sand. She stared at the half-men/half-machine brutes. Their race had destroyed her planet, ruined her life, and forced them into this miserable existence. One of them sneered at her, letting his gaze travel down her body. She wanted to find something to throw at him. “How dare you look away from me when I am talking to you!” The King stamped his foot, and then took several angry steps toward her. There was a stir behind her. Something that distracted the King. He looked past her for a brief moment, and then turned an outraged eye on her.


“Denouncing your loyalty to your King is treason, punishable by death.” His voice was low, cool, hatred dripping through it. Dree’s heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure the sound echoed in the room. She licked her dry lips, fighting to stop an uncontrollable amount of fear that raced through her. “I haven’t denounced anything.” Her voice didn’t come out as strong this time. “I am not from this planet. If you are ruler of land off this world forgive me for not knowing.” She swore someone snickered behind her. There was movement around her, as those standing along the wall stirred uneasily. Did no one speak their mind to the King? Was he such an ass that everyone simply kissed his feet to stay on his good side? King Sorale turned very red in the face. Once again she watched him look past her. More than anything she wanted to turn around and see what he looked at, but knew he would surely take the Bosha tails to her if her attention strayed one more time. The marks on Pren’s body showed he was more than willing to use the leather stringed whip. He pointed a shaking finger at her. “You try to convince the merchants who do business with the castle to carry my slaves away.” “I do not.” Her self-defense was ignored. “You are trying to raise unrest among the slaves so they will revolt and want to leave the castle.” “That’s not true.” She didn’t even associate with his slaves. Most of them wouldn’t give her the time of day. Her temper began taking over her fear. Never had she heard such bullshit come out of the mouth of someone in such high authority. No wonder his kingdom was so miserable. “And…” King Sorale raised his finger above his head, extending his arm, pointing at the ceiling. He looked around as if to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “And you are in allegiance with the House of Torin as a spy in my castle.” He shouted the last words. “You wear the Torin clothing to show your loyalty.” Hushed whispers sounded throughout the court. King Sorale looked rather pleased with himself, rocking up on his toes while he looked around the room. Dree could feel so many eyes upon her, their gazes burning through her clothing. She wanted to disappear underneath the carpet on the floor, or turn and run as fast as she could. These people had stood around and watched him torture Pren. Now they would stand like complete idiots while the King degraded her. None of them cared about anyone. These people were heartless, just like their King. Dree straightened. She doubted anything she said would wipe that smirk off the King’s face. “I have met Marc of Torin, once. He helped me when I needed help.” Just mentioning his name out loud sent a warm rush through her. Again there was rustling behind her. The King’s expression changed for the briefest of moments before


his cocky sneer returned. Dree wished she could have focused on it longer. Did she see worry? Fear? He looked at the guards standing on either side of them nodding and smiling while he pointed at her, as if he sought their reassurance. “Her confession. She admits being a spy.” “I do not!” Again she cried out before giving her words any thought. “I don’t even know where the House of Torin is. I don’t know anything about this planet.” She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. If he was going to kill her, she might as well say her piece first. “What I do know is that you have no compassion for strangers. My people have been treated worse than your slaves.” This time the King didn’t look around the room. He focused on her, looking at her as if he wanted to figure something out. A cold chill seemed to settle around her. Behind the King, Pren appeared to have passed out, her body limp against her restraints with her head leaning forward against her chest. One of the Bortan clinked to the side of her, his shuffling while he stood causing the metal in his body to scrape against each other. The sound almost made her heart explode. She jumped in spite of herself, her heart moving to her throat where it lodged painfully. Memories of Bortan guards chasing them, catching some of the females, flooded through her like poison. She remembered hiding, waiting while the Bortan fucked the females that they caught. Closing her eyes, she did her best to forget the horrible memories of those metal cocks, twisted and surgically altered, while they stroked themselves and bragged about their size and abilities. She had witnessed the others being raped, tortured, fucked in every way possible by these half-men, half-machine beings. “No compassion?” The King spit out the words, bringing her back from her disturbing memories. “I allow you to stay at my castle instead of throwing you out onto the streets. What trade do you possess? What skills do you have?” The King laughed, taking in her appearance as if it disgusted him. “You are ungrateful and lack respect.” Waving his hand in the air he turned around, returning to his throne. “Strip and bind her. Our little troublemaker will learn respect today.” “No. Please.” Dree took a step backwards but to no avail. Two guards gripped her arms before she could move backwards. Murmurs and shuffling sounded behind her but she could only guess if the people watching were disturbed, or excited for another show. The guards pulled on her clothing, the clothing Marc of Torin had given her. They made no attempt to take them off properly, but ripped them from her body. In moments she was naked, shivers rushing through her, her body trembling more from fear than being suddenly cold. Tears burned at her eyes. So many years of training helped her keep a straight face, not allowing these lame excuses for men to gain any perverse enjoyment from her fear. She didn’t fight them when they led her to the side of the throne. Bars similar to the ones Pren was tied to were pushed forward by too-thin slave boys. She made a sweep of the crowd when the guards turned her so her back was to the poles. Too many eyes stared at her, sending goose bumps crawling over her skin. The guards stretched her arms pressing her wrists against the cold stick of metal. The leather straps cut


into her wrists, binding her, holding her in place, stretched out and on display. Her vision blurred and she blinked, hating the hot moisture that trickled down her cheeks. “I’m not a sex slave. Why are you doing this to me?” she cried out, suddenly inclined to struggle against her captors. She twisted, pulling her arms toward her. It only succeeded in causing her arms to hurt more when they were yanked harder, and then the leather straps bound against her skin, digging in painfully. The King turned from his throne and instead moved to stand in front of Pren. Dree could barely see him run his hand down the front of Pren’s body through her blurred vision. “After this one told me of the activities you conducted against your King, she begged me to do this to her.” He turned around. “She will make a wonderful sex slave. You on the other hand…” Dree couldn’t fight the guards when they gripped her legs, stretching them apart, her inner thigh muscles screaming from the angle they forced upon her. “I doubt you will be as much fun.” Pren was the reason she’d been called to the King. She’d been betrayed. Anger stopped her tears. A burning pain started deep in her gut, filling her with rage over how her own kind had treated her. Pren knew she tried to find them a better life. The woman knew Dree only wanted the best for all of them. She bit her lip, straining against the leather ties that held her feet and hands secure. “All I’m guilty of is trying to find a better life for my people.” She no longer cared about all of the onlookers watching. Too many years of being watched while she was with her Master made it easy to ignore the crowd. “Maybe your people like it here.” The King moved toward her, his stroll lazy like a cat’s. Now standing close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin, she could see the cold evil that swam deep in his pale blue eyes. She shook her head, mentally willing him away from her. The King raised his hand to brush one of his brown curls to the side of his forehead. His fingernails were well manicured, and large rings were on every finger. Her skin crawled in repulsion to his nearness. Exposed and vulnerable, there was little to do to maintain her dignity. She was now at his mercy. Obviously speaking her mind hadn’t helped her either, although she doubted at this point holding her tongue would do any good. The King had planned out this event before summoning her. She realized now her actions and words were moot. All of this was premeditated. And she saw no way of getting out of her situation. The King leaned forward and she thought he would kiss her. Even though she had fucked men in the past who hadn’t appealed to her, for some reason her body was repulsed by the King. His icy gaze sent chills through her, making her skin crawl. She looked away, not wanting his mouth on her, anywhere. “Who do you stare at?” The King’s hushed whisper never would have been heard if he hadn’t been mere inches from her face.


His expression reflected worry, something she hadn’t expected. Was there someone in the crowd he assumed she would be watching? Looking again, she scanned the long room, but one of the guards who’d bound her stepped in the way. “Anyone but you, Your Majesty.” Maybe enough months had passed that she had told herself she was no longer a slave. She had started thinking for herself, making her own decisions. And there was no turning back. “No one in that audience will dare to help you in my court.” His cocky expression had returned, a puny runt acting like a bully with his guards surrounding him to protect him. Instead of kissing her, the King ran his tongue up her cheek, licking her. Dree’s stomach turned. She balled her fists, the leather straps rubbing hard against her wrists. His shirt barely brushed against her nipples, hardening them, and sending nervous tingling energy rushing through her. Her master had tied her before. She had been spread open like she was now, exposed and vulnerable. Her pussy would throb in anticipation, drip with cum while she begged in her mind to be touched, ravished, enjoyed. But now here, in the presence of King Sorale, the cool air in the room wrapping around her pussy lips only succeeded in keeping her dry. Never had she been more turned off by a man’s actions as she was now. “Beg me to touch you.” His face was so close to hers that she couldn’t focus on him. “Never,” she whispered, her stomach filling with bile. He moved an inch or so to the side, allowing his actions to be seen by everyone in the room. His hand wrapped around her neck, her muscles clenching while she stared at him. Her life was in his hands and the terror that gripped her made it hard to breathe. King Sorale let his hand slide from her neck, brushing over her breasts. His gaze followed his actions while she watched him, her breathing coming in gasps. “You are a sex slave from Torl on Poltar,” he uttered, his focus on the lower part of her body. “Don’t pretend to be something you are not.” “I’m no longer a slave.” Her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. She sucked in a staggered gasp when he cupped her cunt. The King pressed his fingers into the tender folds of her pussy, forcing the skin to part. It burned when he forced his entrance, stabbing her with his fingers, penetrating her. “Maybe you weren’t a very good sex slave,” he sneered, his knuckles pressing against her unshaved skin while his fingers worked deeper inside her. She closed her eyes, images of Torl in all its glory circling through her mind. Her master’s guests used to request her personally. She had taken pride in her skills. But this was a secret the King would never know.


“And maybe you aren’t a very good King.” She spoke through gritted teeth. King Sorale pulled his fingers free of her tight hole and then slapped her pussy. The heat of humiliation burned her skin, almost breaking a cold sweat out over her body. The King took a step backwards. “It appears my last attempt at allowing you to show your loyalty has failed.” He produced the Bosha tails, gripping the black rod in one hand while he let the long leather threads stream over his other hand. Dree opened her eyes. The King raised the whip and brought it down. The leather tails slapped her skin, sliding over her front. Fire burned through her from the infliction. She clenched her teeth together, refusing to cry out, knowing how often that turned the person on who did the whipping. “Certainly you have better entertainment than this.” One of the Bortan spoke up, his metallic-sounding voice startling Dree. The King turned around, a pleasant smile appearing on his face. “She is rather boring, isn’t she? Maybe if we place her out for a public fucking it would amuse our honored guests.” “Possibly if she were fucked enough she would learn to enjoy it.” The Bortan eyed her, while his companions snickered their approval of his comment. Dree’s heart pounded so fiercely against her ribs that the pain almost surmounted the sting from the leather tails. The King turned toward his throne, clapping his hands once. Immediately the guards stepped forward and the King waved a hand at her dismissively. “The slut claims she acts on behalf of the common people. Take her out to the streets and present her as a gift to the people she fights for.” Dree wanted to cry out her protests when the guards laid hands on her. Her mouth was too dry, her lips quivering too much to speak. The rods her hands and feet were bound to apparently were mobile. She managed a cry of surprise when suddenly they wheeled her away from the King and through the crowd of onlookers. Chapter Seven

Marc searched the growing crowd, making a mental count of how many of his men were positioned. He didn’t miss the brooding look of the Gren while the man watched the King’s guards position Dree just outside the castle. Marc knew his friend wasn’t pleased that once again they were risking their necks to rescue this woman. But damn it to all the hells, she just didn’t seem able to keep herself out of trouble. “The guards are not going to leave her,” Trent Dar, the Gren, spoke through his porta-comm. Marc heard him through the porta-comm wrapped around his head. “Then we take them down,” he


answered, turning a glare on the curious man who had approached and now stood next to him. His harsh look was enough to make the man back away. Marc took in the growing amount of onlookers. “Let’s do our best not to hurt any of the townsfolk.” Trent didn’t respond, but Marc saw him nod. Looking around the grassy area, he squinted against the suns while doing a mental count of how many people already closed in on the area. Dree was captivating, spread-eagled, with her naked body on display for all to see. Her expression was placid, but he could tell by her heavy breathing how terrified she was. He had to give her credit for showing an incredible amount of bravery. More than likely her previous experiences as a sex slave enabled her to endure this moment better than another woman might. The guards moved away from Dree just enough to make them easy targets. “Now,” he ordered, pulling his laser from the holster on his hip. Trent Dar fired at the same time that he did and the two guards slumped to the ground without ceremony. Dree’s entire body jerked against the leather that bound her to the poles. She looked wide-eyed from one guard to the next, her shock turning to fear as her mouth opened, ready to scream. They had to move quickly. If Dree started screaming, more guards would be alerted. This wasn’t how Marc planned on taking down the King. Switching his porta-comm so that he spoke to all of his men, Marc barked out the order. “Secure the area.” Marc didn’t wait to watch his men carry out the order. He moved through the crowd, chaos already mounting. A woman somewhere in the crowd started screaming, her bloodcurdling cries chilling him. Several men surrounded Dree, their hands all over her. Marc pulled one of them backwards, throwing him to the side. “Wait your turn,” another yelled at him. The man already had undone his pants. “There will be no turns.” Marc punched the man, his knuckles hitting the soft bones in the man’s nose. The man stumbled backwards, one hand gripping his cock while the other covered his face, blood quickly streaming over his chin. The other man had his mouth latched to Dree’s tit. Marc’s blood boiled, fury feeding him as he gripped the man’s hair. Dree cried out when Marc broke suction. The man hadn’t bruised her, and although he was sure her nipple got a bit tweaked, it was nothing compared to the abuse she would experience if left strung up in the public square much longer. Dree would be fucked in every hole these men could get to, repeatedly, beyond what her body could take. His hands shook when he reached for Dree. She trembled against his touch, her skin so hot through his gloves he felt it clear to his groin. “Hold still,” he ordered. Her eyes opened wide at the sound of his voice. Those gray eyes looked wild, almost fierce. White strands of her hair draped over the delicate curves of her shoulders, ending at the full roundness of her


breasts. Sweat gleamed across her skin, while her heavy breathing thrust her perky round breasts forward, her nipples jutting toward him as hardened peaks. “Marc.” She breathed his name, her soft voice sending fire through him, hardening his cock instantly. “What took you so long?” He wanted to laugh. His little ex-slave had anticipated him saving her. She had thought about him, had known he would be her rescuer. The blood seemed to drain through his body, sinking deep into the shaft of his cock. The pressure was almost unbearable, making it hard for him to concentrate. “Hold still,” he told her again, knowing he needed to stay focused and move quickly or their small window of opportunity would be closed by the King’s men surrounding them. “I need to cut you loose.” Squatting down was almost unbearable with his cock pressing painfully against the tightness of his pants. He ran his hand down her leg, glancing for the briefest of moments at her pussy. So sweet, so delectable. It called to him, begging him to place his lips against her smooth skin, kiss all pain away. He swore she thrust her hips forward, inching her pussy closer to his face. Growling in frustration, he focused on her ankles and the black leather straps that fastened her to the metal poles. Pulling his knife from its holder at his waist, he swiped through the leather, her entire body slumping when her legs closed together. “Hurry. Please.” She struggled against her confinement, but Marc needed no encouragement. In the next minute he had her free and in his arms. There was no need to order his men out of there. They would see him run, and he was sure none of them had any desire to hang out next to the castle any longer than necessary. Marc hurried through the growing crowd, no one trying to stop him. The Gren was at his heels, and Marc wasn’t pompous enough to think that the people parted solely because of him. Most feared the Gren, not trusting what they did not know. The race kept to themselves, riddled with tradition and strange ceremonies. The Gren’s dark forbidding look added to his sense of mystique. Trent Dar was a loyal friend, but his race provoked fear due to their deadly history. The Gren populated only a small part of their planet, yet had conquered all other races on it, showing the rest of the solar system they wouldn’t be messed with. That often made Trent a good man to hang out with. Dree seemed to curl into his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him, her hot breath setting the fire smoldering inside him to blazes. He could feel the swell of her breasts through his shirt, the softness of her skin, so pale and without tattoos, burned him wherever they touched. Reaching the street at the end of the castle grounds he put Dree down and opened the carrier door. She climbed in without instruction. “There is an incoming message from the King.” Trent Dar had slid his porta-comm off of his belt and now pushed several buttons on it. “It’s recorded, no response required.” “Allows him the final say.” Marc took the porta-comm and slid into the passenger seat of the carrier. Dree scooted up between the two front seats, sitting on the floor between him and Trent. He ran his hand over her hair, the act seeming so natural he had done it before giving it thought.


“What does the King say?” Her voice was soft, soothing. It surprised him how calm she sounded and glanced down at those gray eyes that seemed so much wiser than a slave’s eyes should look. He turned his attention to the porta-comm, pushing the button to start the message. King Sorale appeared on the small screen. The ass lounged in his throne, appearing bored and unconcerned with any of his actions—like usual. “Marc of Torin. Take the slut you appear to be so fond of. Consider her my parting gift to you. Be it known though, if you set foot on any part of my kingdom again, you will die.” With that the screen went blank. Marc tossed the porta-comm onto the console, the King’s words an empty threat. “Apparently we won’t have an audience with the King today.” The Gren grunted. Marc knew he wanted to tell him he told him so. The Gren thought less of the King than Marc did. “You came here to see the King?” Dree looked from him to the Gren. Marc wanted to pull her into his lap, feel the softness of her ass pressed against him. Those large breasts, so full and perky, swelled while he focused on them, once again sending the blood in his body straight to his cock. “King Sorale will not be happy until all of Benox acknowledges his rule.” Trent Dar glanced down at her and then over at him before returning his attention to the road in front of him. “Will he succeed?” Dree sounded worried. “No.” That was one thing Marc was more confident of than anything. “The King will die for his efforts.” Dree appeared content with his answer, her body relaxing as she looked down at her hands. The silky white hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Marc swallowed, trying to keep himself focused. The thought of her hair falling around her while she lay on top of him was a distraction not easily cast aside. Trent put the carrier into gear and started down the street, not taking to flight but simply hovering over the road. Without saying anything, he pulled it off the road and parked it. “Get out,” he said, without ceremony. Marc looked at him questioningly. “Out now. Something is wrong.” The Gren’s expression left no room for argument. Marc opened his door, reaching for Dree. But Trent Dar was faster. He grabbed the woman, pulling her out backwards on his side. Marc jumped out of the carrier, moving around the front toward the two of them. A clicking sound was all the notice he got. The carrier exploded. Heat and the pressure of the metal blowing apart knocked him off balance. Marc stumbled forward, and then hurried almost on hands and knees out of the way of the falling, burning metal that seconds ago was his carrier.


Smoke filled the air, burning his eyes. He strained to see through it, hugging the ground while he searched for the Gren and Dree. There was screaming and yelling all around them. The ground vibrated underneath him from people running up and down the street. Some distance away he could hear the alert sirens of the town patrol approaching. The last thing he wanted was to be detained in this city because the King had failed to kill him, or a fine for the mess his exploding carrier had caused. He scurried across the ground in the direction he assumed Trent Dar and Dree were. “Are you okay?” The Gren stood, wiping dirt off his clothes with the naked Dree standing next to him. “Thanks to you, it appears we are all okay.” He let his gaze stroll down Dree, her body covered with dirt but no bruises or scrapes. The Gren nodded. “I suggest we get out of here.” “My sentiments exactly.” Marc grabbed Dree’s hand, pulling her along as they took to the street, fading into the confused crowd as the alert sirens sounded louder. In the next minute, he lifted her, tossing her over his shoulder. Her adorable ass was an incredible distraction pressed next to his face and bobbing over his shoulder. He placed his hand directly over her ass and pussy, allowing her that much modesty as he hurried through the town. “I can walk. I’m okay.” Dree protested only a bit while she adjusted herself, her head hanging upside down along his back. “We can move faster this way. Be quiet for now,” he instructed her, moving his hand slightly over her most private, intimate area. Her small hands gripped his waist while he held her securely like a cherished bag of goods he had tossed over his shoulder. The people in this kingdom were so accustomed to sex slaves that no one batted an eye at the naked woman on display as the two of them moved quickly through the town. Trent spoke into his porta-comm. “Arrange to pick us up on the other side of the marketplace.” They passed by a small arena where young women and men were on display for purchase. The smell of body sweat and rank pussy turned Marc’s stomach. “What’s that bitch got that I don’t?” One of the girls inside the arena matched their pace, following them on the other side of the fence. “She looks too used up for her to be any good. Men like you two need some fire.” Marc thought of telling the slut that Dree had more class than the woman would ever know. But then he wondered what made him want to defend Dree. The same thing that had him risking their necks saving her ass. Something about this little ex-sex slave. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it called to him. More than just to his cock. Every protector instinct he had kicked into overdrive when he was around her. The sound of a whip cracking made Dree jump. “Get your ass over there and talk to the payin’ customers,” a man’s gravelly voice said.


The woman fell to the ground, a bright red line of blood instantly appearing across her back and ass. When the slave keeper raised his arm to strike the whip against her flesh again, the woman moved to her hands and knees, spitting dirt from her mouth. She might have cursed, or begged him to stop. But they kept walking, Marc’s insides hardening while he held Dree closer to him. Nothing infuriated him more than people’s inability to properly care for others. He would kill anyone who treated Dree that way. The King being the first name on his list. “This way.” Trent Dar nodded with his head and they turned the corner, taking a narrower road away from the merchants’ part of town. “Where are my men?” Marc regretted not grabbing his porta-comm before running from the carrier. “We’re an easy target and I don’t like it.” Again Dree squirmed in his arms. “I can move quickly.” She struggled to turn on his shoulder. “You don’t have to carry me.” He ran his hand over her ass, wanting desperately to slide his fingers into the soft folds of her pussy. “Hold still,” he told her. “We can move faster with you right where you are.” Not to mention he liked her over his shoulder like this. Her soft belly pressed into his shoulder, her thin legs held together against his arm, and her full round ass, so tempting, was too much not to caress while they hurried down the less-used street. Alert sirens sounded behind them, not too close, but close enough to grab Marc’s attention. “Anyone in this town would turn us in to get a favor from the King.” “Agreed.” The Gren pushed a few buttons on his porta-comm. “We’ve got pickup coming toward us now. They swept around the town so as not to be noticed.” If the King had any sense about him, he would have the entire area on alert looking for them. Leaving the carrier was probably crime enough to trap Marc. He knew how the King worked. He was a cheater and a liar, and would create a crime to snag Marc if he could. The alert siren sounded closer, and then a second one followed. They were coming from two different directions. This was going to be close. One of his guards broke through on the porta-comm. “We’ve got the King’s patrol on our ass. Want us to shoot them down?” Hell yes, he wanted them destroyed. But starting a war with the King had to be planned out carefully. He knew His Majesty had a lot of power behind him and wouldn’t fall from the throne easily. “Hold fire,” he said quietly, and the Gren issued the order. His friend then gave him a brooding stare. His dark eyes searched Marc’s face. “We won’t get out of town without more bloodshed,” he said after a minute. “As long as it’s not our blood.” Marc turned, adjusting Dree in his arms while he looked behind them. The buildings had thinned alongside the narrow road. Small homes, where most of the merchants lived,


lined the street. And although most of the merchants were tending their shops, the area seemed too quiet for his taste. Except for the sharp wail of the sirens, there was little else going on around them. Trouble brewed in the air. He could feel it, and the Gren probably sensed it too. While he watched, the King’s patrol turned the corner, the siren burning through his ears as it drew closer. This time Dree almost flipped off of his shoulder. She struggled to be free, and he gripped her, while her body half slid down his front. “You’d move a lot faster if you weren’t carrying me.” She slid down him far enough that her face was inches from his. Her gray eyes were wide with fear. The way her lips puckered when she finished speaking, an almost pouty look filled with determination, made him want to kiss her until she relaxed against him. And she was anything but relaxed. She pressed her small hands against his shoulders, pushing away from him. “Do you think you would stand a better chance of avoiding them if you ran from me?” He held her so firmly against him, the pounding of her heart became one with his own heartbeat. “I think too much is at risk to slow us down by holding me like this.” She glared at him, but only for a moment. The wail of the second patrol, its sirens sounding from behind the merchants’ homes, told Marc they were quickly being surrounded. “They are going to catch us.” Dree squirmed in his arms, her full breasts brushing against his shirt while her legs kicked his in her effort to be free. “This way.” Trent Dar pointed toward the other side of the street and then took off running. Marc didn’t have time to throw Dree over his shoulder again, and he would be damned if he would leave her. She would be captured and killed, and he knew her death wouldn’t be pretty. “I’m not leaving you,” he hissed into her face, and pulled her up to cradle her in his arms before taking off in a full sprint after the Gren. Shots fired at them from the patrol carrier coming down the street after them. Marc dodged alongside one of the homes. “I don’t want to die.” Dree cried into his ear, clinging to him with more strength than he would have guessed that she had. With her small body wrapped around him, Marc took in his surroundings. “Get our carrier here,” he growled at the Gren, who seemingly ignored his threatening order and instead looked around them as well. The sirens were so loud they grated on Marc’s nerves. Standing in between two homes, shaded and partially out of view by the low hanging roofs, the two men watched the King’s patrol move slowly down the street. King Sorale’s guards would follow their orders,


but Marc knew from experience their training was based on manipulation and fear. In battle they wouldn’t stand a chance. His only concern at the moment was shielding Dree if laser fire broke out. “We need to get to the edge of town.” Trent Dar gestured for them to keep moving. “The King’s men are everywhere.” Dree twisted in Marc’s arms, her naked body pressing against him while her ass slid along his arm. “You two would move faster without me.” “And if we leave you here you will die.” Marc knew his tone was harsh, but there wasn’t time to argue, and her squirming was a distraction to his libido. Laser fire hit one of the roofs, sending the cheap woven fibers of tree leaves and plastic flying everywhere. Dree screamed and more fire sent part of the wall next to them shattering into airborne pieces. Marc almost crawled, with Dree gripping his torso, through the flying debris. “Hold on tight, and be quiet,” he ordered, hurrying toward the backside of the houses. “There is our cruiser.” Trent Dar pointed and then looked around them quickly. Without another word, he took off in a full sprint toward the cruiser. Marc was right behind him. “Where are the King’s men?” he asked after he and Dree almost rolled into the back of the cruiser. He had landed almost on top of Dree, but moved quickly to his knees. Trent moved to the passenger seat while the guard put the carrier into full speed. Trent began pushing buttons on his porta-comm. “Damn near just about everywhere.” “Well, get us the fuck out of here.” He turned to Dree, her wide gray eyes peeled to the front windows, a mask of terror and frustration on her pretty face. “We’ve got troops surrounding the city.” Trent Dar looked at him, his coal black eyes so intense they were on fire. “Just say the word and we attack.” Chapter Eight

Dirt flew up against the windows while the cruiser bumped over the uneven road. Marc fought to keep his balance, and more than once Dree fell into him. Her smooth, soft body was too much of a distraction. Her nipples were as hard as rocks, and her round ass felt too damned good in his hands when he gripped her to keep her from falling over. With an exasperated sigh, he pulled his shirt from his body and wrapped it around her. “Cover yourself so that I can think about something other than fucking you,” he told her between clenched teeth. He saw the teasing smile as her eyes glowed at him, a soft gray that swirled with lust. But her expression remained serious. “With the King’s men all over town trying to catch you, it might be the perfect time to attack him,” she said quietly.


Marc knew Dree probably had never trained in the logistics of war. More than likely she had never been in a battle in her life. And other than seeing her homeland destroyed, he doubted she had any experience in combat. “The King will die. I promise you that.” There was no reason to explain to her his plan. All he would do was offer her assurance that her treacherous life would be no more. He would see to that personally. “I will not destroy this town because their King is unjust.” He spoke to Trent Dar, who simply nodded and then turned his attention to the porta-comm in his lap. “I’ve got us out of town,” his guard, Rantok, told him. The burly man slowed the carrier a bit, its engines growling underneath them. “We’ll meet up with the first stationed troops here soon.” “Dar. Send a message to the King.” Marc leaned back against the side of the carrier, stretching out his legs. Dree adjusted herself as well, sitting cross-legged next to him, those soft gray eyes as distracting as her thin willowy, creamy white legs. She hadn’t buttoned his shirt, yet merely slipped her arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around her. Her ample breasts pressed against the fabric. Covering her had done little to keep his thoughts off of how fucking sexy she was. He loved how she had no problem being naked, but at the moment he wished she were a bit more modest. All he could think about was fucking her. He turned so he wouldn’t see her. “Let him know that we will attack if we don’t have his immediate surrender. Include the list of grievances we’ve worked up—his demand that the people of Torin pay such a high tax simply because we work harder than most. Let him know we will not acknowledge his leadership any longer.” “And say that his treatment of the people in his kingdom is unacceptable,” Dree added. “We’ve arrived at the troops’ site.” Rantok glanced over his shoulder and slowed the carrier to a crawl. “The message is sent.” Trent Dar closed his porta-comm. “I’ve given him until the sunsrise to respond.”

Before the suns were even up the next morning, Marc walked through the quiet camp. It had been a restless night. He’d put Dree in a carrier not too far from where he’d camped with his men. Guards were on duty, and he had no doubts she would be left alone, but thinking about her had made it hard to sleep. “Dar. Wake up.” Marc nudged the Gren with his boot. Trent Dar opened his eyes, his expression alert as if he’d simply been lying there with his eyes closed instead of sleeping. “We’re going to head into Lengorc. I want to be there before sunsrise.” Marc moved away from the other sleeping men with the Gren standing, and then following him. “We’ll alert the city officials of our ultimatum to the King. Let them know we will offer protection once we attack the kingdom.” “You have no doubts King Sorale will refuse to surrender.” Trent Dar fell into step next to Marc.


There wasn’t much need to answer. The Gren knew as well that King Sorale would never step down. “We fight with dignity, for honor. A surprise attack would only have caused unnecessary deaths.” The Gren nodded. The two of them were cut from the same cloth, which was why Marc had made Trent Dar his right-hand man. Although from Greneen, Dar believed in fighting for a cause, and not for monetary gain. “King Sorale will plan a surprise attack.” Trent Dar stopped next to Marc, outside the carrier where Dree slept. “He won’t care who he destroys in his attempt to keep the throne.” “There will be no throne once we are done with him.” Fire burned through Marc when he thought of how underhanded the King might be in his attacks against Torin. “But I don’t dispute what you say. We both know the King will not play fair.” The Gren nodded, running his large hands through his black hair while he looked off into the distance. “You make the right move, my friend. All will be better for Benox once the King is removed.” “Which will be better for all surrounding planets.” Marc grinned, knowing no matter how loyal his friend was to the cause of Benox, the Gren’s true loyalties would always lie with Greneen, his home world. The Gren nodded, moving around the front of the carrier toward the driver’s side. Marc would have enjoyed waking Dree a bit differently if time had permitted. She lay on several thick blankets, her creamy white body spread deliciously over the soft bedding he’d provided for her. Long silky strands of white hair fanned around her head. The shirt he’d given her the night before twisted around her body, her adorable ass visible as she lay sleeping on her stomach. Her eyelids fluttered when he opened the cargo door and lifted the boxes of supplies he’d prepared for their trip into Lengorc. Sleepily, she watched him for a moment, those large gray eyes of hers slowly taking in his actions. “What are you doing?” The sound of her voice, like lazy music taking its time to come to life, sent a rush of energy through him that he wished he had time to indulge in. Everything about her, from her incredibly sexy body, to the sultry way she looked at him, set his body on fire. His cock was hard instantly, the desire to feel her heat wrapped around him making it hard to move, let alone respond. “We are taking a small trip to Lengorc.” “I’ve heard of the town.” She sat up, looking down at herself while she adjusted her shirt around her body. “Some of the merchants visiting the castle would talk about the place. I hear it’s nice.” “It has much to offer.” He watched her small fingers work the buttons on his shirt, almost regretting the fact that she felt the need to cover herself. “If we had more time I would enjoy showing the highlights of the town to you.” She nodded, turning her attention to the boxes he’d situated behind the passenger seat of the carrier. The Gren climbed into the driver’s seat, busying himself with loading programs, and preparing the computer for their journey.


Marc finished organizing the supplies he wanted them to have, and then climbed into the passenger seat. They pulled out of camp silently, the guards on duty nodding solemnly when they drove by. The first sun barely hovered on the horizon when they arrived on the quiet streets of Lengorc. Dree had moved to her knees between the two seats so she could see out the windows. Her expression didn’t change as she looked at the tall buildings, most of them built from the rich land of the area, giving the stones a dark green shade. Marc woke the older man who tended the small inn that he liked to stay at when in Lengorc. After getting them a room and seeing that Dree was safe, he and the Gren made arrangements to see the city officials. By midmorning, Trent Dar was off to prepare his men for attack, and Marc entered the nice room he’d reserved, needing to see Dree before he met again later with the Lengorc leaders. She stood from the comfortable couch where she’d been sitting, staring out the large windows to the busy street below. “This is the most beautiful place.” She smiled, running her small fingers down a chic Bosha tan gown. The close-fitting outfit was designed to be comfortable, and was similar to dresses most of the women in Lengorc wore. Made from the thin material woven from the Bosha tail, her sweet curves were easily seen. Marc could only stare at her for a moment, enjoying how her full round breasts pressed against the fabric, her dark nipples visible and hard. The soft curve of her hips, her flat stomach and unmarked skin contrasted the color perfectly. See-through fabric was usually worn to allow a lady to show her adorned body, the intricacy of her tattoos giving color to an otherwise plain gown. But Dree, with her pure white skin, made the dress appear more erotic, leaving nothing for an admirer to look at other than the hardened nubs of her nipples poking against the material, and the hint of her shaved pussy barely visible against the tan fabric. Obviously she’d taken advantage of the amenities of the room. He liked how she’d removed the hair between her legs, the smooth skin enticing and very hard to look away from. His cock hardened instantly. “Beyond beautiful,” he murmured, moving in on her, watching her gray eyes when they met his gaze. “Where did you get the dress?” Color graced her cheeks, while she watched him approach her. “I didn’t have anything to wear.” “I know.” He continued to approach her until he stood within inches, the swell of her breasts beckoning him to fondle them. “Where did you get the dress?” “One of the maids brought it to me when I told her that my clothes had been lost.” The crimson that appeared on her cheeks made him want to smile. He kept his expression serious though while running a finger over the delicate strap that rounded her shoulder. “And how did you pay this maid?” Hints of gold sparkled through the gray in her eyes when she looked up at him, her lips moving to form words before she spoke. “Would you have me naked?”


“It’s a tempting thought.” He traced the strap over her shoulder, the silky material covering her breasts tormenting his fingers. It would take no effort at all to rip the dress from her body. “I’ll pay you back somehow.” Dree suddenly looked upset. “I charged it to the room. I didn’t have anything to wear.” Marc felt like a heel for not making arrangements for her to clothe herself before leaving this morning. The urgency of their visit had weighed heavy on him though, and all he had worried about was that Dree was safe before leaving her. “You owe me nothing.” He reached for her arm instead of her breast, and pulled her to him. He had to taste her. The perfumed soaps she must have used while bathing had soaked into her skin, their musky scent drifting around her adding to her beauty. And her lips were so soft and moist. He brushed a kiss over them and she pressed her body against his, her delicate hands reaching for him, leaving trails of fire while they glided up his shirt to his shoulders. Dree returned his kiss, her mouth so hot when she opened to him that he swore she would burn him alive. Their tongues met, her cautious curiosity causing a fever to ignite in his brain. Everything about her was a contradiction. Her sexual experience surpassed anything he’d ever experienced. He had seen her bound and spread-eagled in a crowded room. He’d seen her move with grace without any clothes on. Yet to touch her, to kiss her like this, her hesitation, her soft touch as her fingers slid over his body, nothing she did gave him any indication she was skilled in the art of fucking. Dree leaned against him, every soft curve molding into him. Her warmth rushed through him, feeding the fire that already burned through his blood. His heart pounded with a fierceness he could barely control. The desire to bend her over, glide that material over her sweet ass and drive inside her, overwhelmed him. He ran his hands down her arms and then gripped her waist, the sensual narrowness of it made her feel even more vulnerable. He could do what he wanted with her, take from her, control her. The thought of having her do whatever he wanted was a turn-on, more so than he ever realized it would be. “I need to fuck you.” He wouldn’t hide anything from her. Not to mention he had a feeling she already knew that. “I need you, too.” Her breath was so hot against his neck when she lowered her head and spoke. The fact that not only did she want him, but she needed him, drained all the blood from his body and sent it straight to his cock. Here was a woman who fucked whoever she was told. He wouldn’t even ponder on how often she had sex daily when she’d been a slave. But she needed him. He lifted her, wasting no time carrying her to the adjoining room. The large bed hadn’t been touched. He had requested this room, specifically remembering the bedroom, and thinking the last time he was here how wonderful it would be to fuck a willing lady in it. Never had he imagined it would be someone like Dree.


She slid down his body, standing in front of him when they reached the edge of the bed. Her gray eyes were glazed with desire, her breaths deep and long, causing her breasts to rise and fall slowly, pressing against the delicate fabric of the dress. “I don’t want you to fuck me like you have other men.” He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, running his hand over her chin. Wrapping his fingers around her delicate neck, he lifted her head so that she could look only at him. “Don’t fuck me out of some sense of loyalty, or appreciation for saving you.” Dree relaxed against his grip, the pulse of her blood, racing through her body, a driving beat against his finger. “And I don’t want you to fuck me like you have other women.” The sureness in her tone had him raising an eyebrow. “How is it that you think I fuck other women?” he asked. “I won’t be just another fuck of convenience.” He had read her wrong. Running his hand down her neck, over the delicate bones of her chest, he realized Dree had put being a slave behind her. And she had just put him in his place by saying what she did. “Nothing about you is convenient.” He loved how her eyes glowed when she smiled. She reached for him then, her small hands gripping his shirt, tugging at it. “Nor will I be your slave,” she told him, her eyes focused on her task of removing his clothing. She moved too fucking slow. His cock would explode if he didn’t free it from his pants. The confinement would boil him alive. “I don’t own slaves.” He watched her unbutton his shirt, and then fan her small fingers through the hair on his chest. “Another redeeming quality you possess.” Her quick answers, her quiet wit, made him wonder what kind of owner she had on Poltar. Surely an understanding master who had encouraged his slaves to think for themselves. Marc decided he must have been a good man. She looked up at him when her fingers wrapped around the top of his pants. Searching his face, her expression seemed almost innocent. Marc realized that in a sense this might be the first time she had fucked a man because she wanted to. Something inside him stirred, an emotion he wasn’t ready to label. He gripped the sides of her head, combing his fingers through her silky locks. “Take my pants off, woman. I can’t stand it any longer.” He sounded like he begged her more than ordered her. What was it about her that made him want to throw himself at her, posses her and at the same time beg her to continue to want only him? Dree giggled, the sound almost musical. “I doubt you will break.”


She lowered her head while he had his hands through her hair, the strands draping over his hands while she looked at what she was doing. Marc closed his eyes. Every sensation she offered him, the aromatic smell of her, the way her fingers felt against his skin, how easily she moved against him, everything about her burned through him, singeing his very soul. Dree undid his pants, her hands so dangerously close to his cock, yet its confinement enough to make him crazy. Holding still became more of a task than he ever imagined. Marc was a trained leader, a warrior since his youth. He had learned to control his emotions, keep his feelings at bay. Yet everything about Dree washed right through years of hard lessons and accomplishments. She was a challenge he wasn’t sure he could meet. Throwing her on the bed, ripping that dress from her body, pounding her cunt until she screamed would be way too easy to do at the moment. “Look at you,” she breathed, and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Marc’s toes about curled in his boots. “Suck it, baby. I need to feel that hot mouth of yours around my cock.” Marc pressed on her head, guiding her to her knees in front of him. Dree looked up at him and smiled before focusing again on his cock. Her fingers alone worked magic. Her touch when she glided her hand down his shaft brought his blood to a raging boil. She cupped his balls, teasing him beyond anything he could describe as fair. He balled his hands in her hair to keep himself from thrusting his cock down her throat. “Woman. You are tormenting me.” As hard as it was to talk, he would let her know he could only behave for so long. “I think you can handle it.” Her coy response about undid him. She wasn’t fazed by his breaking point. Thoughts of teaching her a small lesson, letting her know what she was messing with, entered his mind. Marc almost cried out when her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. Heat from her mouth, her slick moist tongue, burned him alive, taking the fever inside him to a dangerous level. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her head, pushing his cock deeper into her smoldering mouth. Dree’s tongue danced around his cock, stroking him while her lips coaxed him deeper into her moist heat. Nothing he’d ever experienced felt as good as this. He tried to move slowly, tried not to be brutal. But he swore she encouraged him, egged him on as he worked to move slowly in and out of her mouth. Sliding deeper and deeper, he felt her throat constrict around his cock head. He could spill his seed down her throat right now. He exhaled, his blood pumping so furiously through him that he could barely catch his breath.


“You suck cock better than anyone I’ve ever known.” Dree looked up at him, her mouth opened wide with his cock buried deep inside her moist heat. Humidity rushed through him, suffocating him, his insides boiling with blood pumped faster and faster through his body. His clothes constricted him. They were in the way. Struggling with his pants, he pushed them down. Her tongue worked magic against his cock while she helped slide his pants down his legs. “Enough.” He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, sliding it free from her mouth. The air in the room gave him a chill, but the throbbing pain deep inside him didn’t diminish. “Take off your dress.” If he so much as touched that gown she wore, he would rip it from her. Dree straightened, her movements as smooth as silk. “You don’t like this dress?” But even as she teased him, her words sultry and like fire to his already overheated system, she reached for the delicate straps, sliding them over her shoulders. “I love the dress.” He clenched the muscles in his body, wanting desperately to touch her. “And right now it would look best in a pool at your feet.” Her smile was delightful. If she had any awareness of how much restraint he used right now just to keep his hands off of her so he could watch her undress, he doubted she would be so relaxed. The thin Borsha material slid over her breasts, her brown nipples instantly hardening while he watched. He sucked in his breath; her beauty intoxicated him, overwhelmed him, and almost brought him to his knees. Dree’s soft gray eyes studied him, searching for his approval while she slid her dress over her hips and then stepped out of it, letting it puddle to the floor. Marc had to touch her. “Damn it, woman.” His insides burned with a need too strong to control. Something about Dree, her sensual body, the craving in her expression, made him want to devour her. Cupping her breasts, his hands glided over her soft flesh, the fullness and softness of her overwhelming him. He squeezed them, forcing her nipples to pucker and point directly at him, teasing him, inviting him closer. “Marc. I’m on fire.” Her words were out on a breath, so soft, caressing over him like a gentle breeze, urging the flames within him to dance into a mad rage. It took some effort to speak. “Tell me what you want.” She looked up at him while he squeezed her nipples. The expression on her face was priceless, her lips parting at his gesture, a lust-filled haze passing over her eyes. “You. Please. Fuck me,” she whispered. Marc released her breasts, running his hands across her chest, over her shoulders and down her arms. “Why do you want me?”


The haze covering her beautiful gray eyes dissipated. Her tongue darted over her lips, making them shine with moisture. His cock throbbed painfully while he watched her suck in her lower lip and nibble on it while considering her answer. She placed her hands on his chest, her touch branding him, the heat soaring through him making it hard not to grab her and bend her over right in front of the window. Her fingers tingled against his skin as she ran it under his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders. “I haven’t been able to quit thinking about you,” she confessed. She didn’t look up at him, her long lashes fluttering over her eyes while she focused on his chest. She wanted him. It wasn’t that she just wanted to get laid, ease an ache that time had created. Her body craved him. He gripped her arms, turning her toward the bed. “Move,” he ordered and then swatted her ass, the sharp sound about making him explode from the desire that rushed through him. Blood pulsed through him, his cock pounding for relief. She sat down on the edge of the bed, turning so she faced him. Her legs spread while she adjusted herself, her beautifully shaved pussy glistening with her moisture. Marc could barely stand. He needed to bury himself deep inside her before he exploded. He climbed over her, forcing her down, her long strands of hair drifted over her shoulder when she collapsed underneath him. Her fingers traced tantalizing lines across his skin, prickles of excitement rushing through him, burning desire tearing at him. “You better be ready for this.” He needed to warn her. Everything about her was so soft, so gentle and adoring. But he didn’t feel soft at the moment. Nothing inside him wanted to be gentle. She tore at him with her beauty and her grace, bringing him to a raging boil. It was too late to stop his craving. When she looked up at him, those lashes fluttering over her sensual eyes, he saw no fear, no worries or hesitation. Dree smiled, her lips parting while her breasts seem to swell in front of him, full and lush, eager for his attention. “I am.” Her answer came on her exhale. His cock absorbed the heat from her pussy before he even touched her. Her moisture clung to him when he pressed his cockhead against her entrance. Dree lifted her legs, wrapping them around him while she held on to his shoulders. He swore she pulled him into her, urging him to take all she had to offer. “I won’t be gentle.” He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to wait a minute longer until he knew she understood what was in store for her. “I don’t want gentle.” Her response surprised him. But there was no time to think about it right now. Marc sank into the heat of her pussy. Muscles spasmed around his cock, sucking him in further, while smothering him with more heat than he thought he could handle. Nothing could have prepared him for how Dree would feel. So hot, so fucking tight, so damned wet. He never would have believed she had


been a sex slave if she hadn’t told him herself. Dree arched underneath him, her pussy moving around his cock while she adjusted to his impalement. “By the gods,” she cried out, exposing her adorable neck when she rolled her head, her eyes closing while her mouth formed a perfect circle. Marc dared not sink further in her. For whatever reasons, she hadn’t been fucked in a while, and her tight, suffocating cunt needed to be prepared for what he was about to do to her. Pulling back, gliding over her quivering muscles, Marc held his breath, trying not to plunge deep inside her again too quickly. “No.” Dree opened her eyes, her look tortured. Those delicate hands glided over his body, gripping his hips. “More. I need more.” “Woman.” He would hurt her. More than anything he didn’t want to do that. “Now damn it!” She dug into his thighs, pulling him down, demanding he fuck her. Marc plunged into her cunt, his thrust hard and forceful. Her inner muscles stretched around him, contracting as he plunged deeper than he had before. Dree cried out, digging into his flesh with her fingers, holding on to him while he buried himself in her moist heat. Her legs went around him like a vise grip and he grabbed them, straightening to his knees, while he forced her knees open, spreading her. “You asked for this,” he almost growled, driving into her again and again while holding her legs apart. “Yes. Damn. Yes.” Dree gripped the bedspread with her fists, her arms next to her head while her silky strands sprayed over her face. The way she tossed her head from one side to the next made her hair fan around her. Her breasts bouncing while her nipples hardened like dark temples demanding his praise, grabbed his attention, hypnotizing him for a moment. The heat from her cunt swarmed through him, slowly consuming his insides. His cock was on fire, driving deep into her tight hole with every thrust. Looking down at her, her legs spread wide against his grasp. She was the image of perfection. The way his cock slid in and out of her, the way her rich cream made her skin glisten, everything about her made him feel he was dreaming. Marc closed his eyes, knowing if he continued to watch Dree he would explode before he wanted to. Focusing on how she felt, how her heat absorbed through him, he plunged with more force, holding on to her so she wouldn’t slide up the bed. “So good.” Dree had hair strewn across her face. She whispered the words while balling the blanket on either side of her head with her fists. “You like that?” Marc lifted her ass off the bed, stretching her legs further while his cock disappeared into the soaked folds of her heat. “Yes. Oh. Yes.” She opened her eyes, stretching her arms to brace herself while he held her up and fucked the shit out of her.


Her muscles began contracting around his cock, her juices flowing with a fire that nearly burned him alive. Dree stared at him, her gaze hooded with her long lashes. The way she looked at him, her mouth moving slightly as if she tried to speak, he knew he’d found his match sexually. She took his beating, his cock driving inside her with a force many women couldn’t handle, and she craved it. Pulling out of her, his cock a throbbing feverish weapon ready to explode, Marc grabbed her hips, anxious to turn her over. “Get on your knees.” He helped her readjust, her shiny white hair streaming down the curve of her back while her perfectly rounded ass appeared before him. “Hurry. Damn it. Marc. I need you back in me.” The strain in her voice let him know how close she was. And he’d felt her orgasm coming, the almost vibrating titillation of her muscles. But there was so much of her to explore. Just fucking her like this was so damned hot. And her willingness, her eagerness, the way her body responded to him, he had to know more about her, feel her from different angles, experience all she could be. Every molecule in him about exploded when he looked down at her soaked cunt, her rich cream coating her skin, glistening from her ass to her clit. She exposed herself to him, stretching her legs, her ass in the air, the side of her face pressed against the bed. “You are so fucking hot.” He gripped her ass, opening her further. Running his fingers over her pussy, her cum soaked him, while the heat from her absorbed into his hand, rushing through him and making his cock dance. The pain inside him was almost unbearable. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman without tattoos on her ass, but the pure creamy white skin gave Dree almost a virginal look. How fucking ironic. He doubted there was an inch on her that hadn’t been enjoyed time and time again. “Do you like it here?” He ran his cum-soaked fingers over the tight puckered hole above her pussy. Dree didn’t answer at first, her body jerking slightly from the incredibly intimate touch. He looked at her face, her eyes closed with several strands of white hair hiding part of her expression. “You can fuck me there if you like.” Giving her consent was probably more than she’d ever been able to do before. But consent wasn’t what he wanted. “I didn’t ask for permission.” She opened her eyes, lifting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I…” she began, those sensual gray eyes appraising him. “Do you like your ass fucked, Dree?” He wouldn’t accept her worried look that somehow she’d just offended him. Suddenly the signs of years of being a sex slave rushed over her. She was trained to please, to offer and enjoy whatever her partner wanted. But now she would learn a new way of fucking. The pain from his cock, yearning to bury itself deep inside her once again, made it difficult to


concentrate. Years of warrior training came into play when he forced himself to be patient, to play out this necessary scene. Sliding his moist finger into her incredibly tight hole, he watched her expression. Her lips quivered, while the muscles in her back and ass tightened. Such intense beauty, no color adorning her skin, no designs hiding the natural beauty of her body. Her eyes fluttered shut then opened again while she turned her head, straining to focus on him. “A couple of times I’ve liked it. But not always. Most men love to fuck a lady’s ass though. Go ahead if you want to.” “You will love and crave wherever I fuck you,” he told her. He ran his fingers over her cunt, lubing them with her thick hot cream, and then once again slid his finger in her ass. “And when I fuck you here, it will make you explode like you never have before.” A sigh escaped her lips, her mouth opening and shutting while her expression relaxed. She enjoyed him finger-fucking her ass. And as much as he wanted to bury his cock deep inside that tight little hole, he saw that she needed to relax, needed to accept how good it could be there. Adjusting himself, he gripped the soft cheeks of her ass and pulled her cunt to his cock. Without warning he plummeted deep inside her, deciding at that moment that learning about Dree might just be the best experience he’d ever had. Chapter Nine

Dree couldn’t stand it. Her body quivered with need as if she’d never been fucked before. And that was so far from the truth. “I’ve never had it like this,” she said on a gasp, knowing he wouldn’t understand, wishing she could tell him what he was doing to her. “We’re far from done.” His voice was husky, his fingers gripping her ass. Her muscles quivered, tightening, contracting while the pressure inside her grew. Her eyes fluttered closed, the intensity of the feelings rushing through her so strong she could hardly think. But she wanted to see him, watch this glorious warrior perform magic on her body. Forcing her eyes open she strained to look over her shoulder. Such powerful arms, a broad chest with hair sprinkled across it. Every inch of him was hard, solid. “Woman.” His growl sent shivers through her. Waves of pleasure danced through her, of anticipation, of an aching desire to watch him when he exploded deep inside her. “Don’t come yet,” she whispered, knowing he could give her so much more, wanting to have this moment last forever.


He smiled, seeming to know her thoughts. “I’m going to watch you explode first.” He pulled out of her, leaning back on his haunches while he stared down at her hungrily, his eyes darkening to a dangerous blue while his jaw hardened. His cock aimed full and erect, shiny with her thick juices coating it. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly watering as she imagined cleaning her cum from his cock. Her body vibrated on the edge of her orgasm though. Moving quickly so that she could suck him into her mouth wasn’t as easy to do as she wished. Maybe she was out of practice. Never had she hesitated before in moving to keep a moment alive. But her training didn’t seem to apply here for some reason. The fluid movements she’d mastered over the years of being a slave seemed lost to her now. She would get up. Give her just a second to catch her breath and she would move to her knees, take him in her mouth, suck him dry. Marc reached for her, taking her under the arms and lifting her to him, depriving her of that second. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he whispered, bringing her to him. Before she could answer he devoured her mouth, his tongue sinking deep into her, kissing her with so much intensity her tummy twisted with pure delight. She melted against his chest, her breasts tickled by his curly chest hair while she wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders, clinging to him, falling desperately and holding on for dear life. Damn all the gods. She could love this man. Anything he wanted she would give him. He was moving fire within her, bringing her to a level she’d never experienced before—and with just a kiss. “Dree,” he breathed into her mouth. “What are you doing to me?” “You feel it too?” she asked and then realized how stupid that sounded. His growl of response sent shivers through her, although she burned inside and out from a heat that couldn’t be sated. She worked to focus, wanting to see his expression, needing to see what he wouldn’t say. Was he loving her? Did this go beyond fucking? His soft curls pressed against his forehead. His expression serious as he stared down at her. “I feel a need to please you. You are going to experience pleasure like you’ve never experienced it before.” Something in those blue eyes moved her. She would drown in his gaze if she didn’t look away. Men had promised her many things before—none of them seen through. Marc wasn’t promising her anything. Yet she believed him more than she’d ever believed another man. He wanted to see to her pleasure, what mattered to her. Something fluttered in her heart, causing it to skip a beat. This man, Marc of Torin, strong enough to take on the king, ensure justice to his people, appealed to her more than any man she’d known. And it was more than his aggression, his domination; the man had compassion and viewed others as equals, seeing the good, or the bad in them and not judging them because of their rank. This was dangerous territory. She would lose her heart to this man if she weren’t careful. If she hadn’t lost it already.


When she would have told him, spoken out and told him he was moving her like no other man, he reached for her shoulders, pushing her down. “Suck, baby.” His words weren’t an order, but a request, a gravelly rasp that sent bolts of electricity straight to her cunt. Spoken with such assuredness though, she moved with the quickness she hadn’t possessed a moment before, eager to have his cock in her mouth. The thickness of her cum around his cock made her mad with need. Sucking him into her mouth, she craved her own taste. Lapping at him, wrapping her lips around him while moving him in and out of her mouth, she worked to catch every bit of her own cum from his shaft. “That’s it, baby. You love that cock, don’t you.” Dree moaned, her insides constricting from the pleasure of tasting him. She feared she might love more than just his cock. But it had to be the compassion he showed her, the skills he possessed to bring out her basic needs. This was a man as experienced as she was in lovemaking. Maybe she’d simply met her match. Whatever the truth, she couldn’t stop the craving that grew inside her. On her hands and knees, her ass up in the air, her back arched, her cum seeped from her cunt, flowing from her when she couldn’t stop the orgasm that convulsed through her. Never had sucking a cock made her explode before. No man had ever made her need him so bad she would explode just from thinking about it. She was way over her head with Marc of Torin. Met her match—hell she was afraid she wasn’t even in his league. Her muscles tightened, her ass and pussy craving the cock that she soaked with her mouth, adoring its hardness and thick strength. “Damn it, Dree. You are eating me alive.” His body convulsed, his cock swelling in her mouth. He would explode in her mouth and she ached to taste his salty richness. Marc’s hands went to her head though, pulling her back, gripping her while he freed himself, leaving her mouth swollen and empty. “Turn around.” And this time it was an order. She scurried to obey, needing him back inside her as much as he obviously craved her. The darkness in his eyes, an intense shade of blue that verged on dangerous, stole her breath. His expression was so serious, so intent on watching her. The hard curve of his cheekbone, to the straight line of his lips, every bit of him was a man determined, capable of so much. The look on his face bordered on carnal. She sucked in her breath, her entire body an exposed nerve ending underneath that scrutinizing gaze. Positioning herself toward the head of the bed, his large hands gripped her ass. Strong fingers kneaded her soft skin, pressing into her, stretching her, opening her. Her thighs coated with fresh cum when he spread her open. “So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, his fingers pressing against her pussy and ass.


She exhaled, offering herself to him when he ran his fingers from her cunt to her ass, lubricating the small hole, preparing her. His finger worked the tight entrance, easing its way in, his heavy breathing telling her he labored while waiting to ensure she could handle him. Her heart raced against her ribs, her own breathing accelerating while she waited for him to enter her, wanting his cock in her ass more than she had ever imagined she would. And when he removed his finger, positioning his moist cock, soaked from her mouth, at the entrance of her ass, she quivered, anticipation arching through her like a bow pulled tight, waiting for release. For a moment, when he pushed inside her, she thought her muscles would give out, causing her to collapse underneath him. She held herself in place, feeling the sharp pain shoot through her. The hair on his thighs tickled her legs when he pressed into her. She felt his body tremble, could sense the inner strength it took for him to move slowly, enter her with care. Closing her eyes to fully feel the incredible pleasure that washed through her as he spread her ass open, she reached between her legs with her hand, fondling her oversensitive clit. “Oh gods. Fuck yes.” She couldn’t help herself. Pushing back quickly she forced him deeper inside her, the sting hitting as the arrow released, plunging through her, rocking her senses as another orgasm ripped through her. “Damn it, baby.” Marc held tight to her hips, controlling her movements while he began pulling out slowly. “Fuck me.” She needed him deep inside her, plunging through her. She didn’t want slow and easy. She wanted—no, needed—fast and hard. “Faster,” she begged. “Fuck me hard and fast. Please.” He plunged into her, releasing a growl that vibrated through her, tearing her apart as he speared her ass, fucking her hard and quick. The pain had been replaced with a pleasure more acute, more intense than she could handle. Throwing her head back, she cried out, knowing she would die from the pure pleasure of this carnal act. “I can’t,” he cried out, but was unable to finish his sentence. Hot semen exploded into the fire of her tight cavity. Then her arms did give out, her body unable to handle anymore of the pleasure he’d offered her. He pumped his seed inside her, coating the fire inside her, satisfying her more than she ever knew possible.

Marc barely slept a few hours when her luscious body woke him. Fire burned inside, the need to fuck her again raging through him. He took her in her sleep, enjoying her soft mews as she slowly awoke, realized what he was doing, and purred with pleasure. Much to his surprise, when he was done, she pushed him on to his back, sucking his cock until he cried out for her again. Then like a fairy in the night, her white hair streaming around her beautiful creamy white skin, she rode him, slowly and sensually, arching her back and exposing her long neck while she cried out


his name. “I want to take you to Torin with me,” he told her. She lay collapsed on him, their breathing one, relaxed soft inhales and exhales of two lovers intertwined in the night. He stroked her back, her long silky strands of hair feeling good under his hand. “Tell me about the place. Have you always lived there?” she whispered, her breath tickling his shoulder. “Yes and my father before me, as well as his father before him. You will like it there. A beautiful place where hard work is rewarded by bountiful land.” She chuckled. “I know nothing about farming.” He hadn’t imagined her farming, and smiled although he knew she couldn’t see his face. “You won’t be farming. You will ride alongside me, overseeing the land, offering advice. Somehow I think you would be good at that.” She raised her head, her gray eyes staring at him intently for a long moment. Her lips were full, a pouty expression although he knew her mind was absorbing the meaning behind his words. “I will go with you.” Her words were a promise. The intensity of them, the finality of her decision to be with him, made something break inside him. A dam, a lifetime of feelings closely guarded, broke and washed through him, cleansing him, making him feel almost lightheaded. Yes. Dree would do well at his side. Chapter Ten

The sound of a door closing woke Dree up. The covers twisted around her, wrapping her in their warmth and security. She lay there for a moment, allowing her eyes to focus on the elegant drapes that hung over the long window at the other end of the room. It was still dark outside. When had she last slept so well? The plush comforts of the room, the large bed that held her, nothing had compared to this since sleeping with her master on Poltar. And those times had been few and far apart. The few times she’d been with Torl though were engraved in her brain. He’d been a skilled lover, gentle yet secure in how he would fuck her. Dree had expected Marc to be similar. Marc hadn’t been gentle, although he’d far from abused her. But she’d expected him to be more demanding, more like Torl. After all both were leaders of their people, accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question. Dree rolled over, looking toward the doorway, wondering if someone had just arrived or left the room. She heard nothing now. More than likely Marc had just left to handle business. She was alone again.


Stretching, the muscles in her body immediately retaliated. Her pussy and ass throbbed, the burning pressure building quickly the longer she lay there awake. It wasn’t as easy to climb out of bed as she thought. Her legs were like jelly. Last night had been incredible. But it had also confused her. Marc hadn’t fucked as a sex slave, but a woman with a mind of her own. Over and over again they had fucked each other. She was sore and stiff and wanted him again desperately. His words afterwards hung in her mind. Taking her home with him, being by his side—had he been serious? Her heart constricted, hope rushing through her that Marc of Torin was as attracted to her as she was to him. But why would a man like him want a woman like her? “Men make no sense,” she mumbled, and walked on shaky legs to the bathroom. Two days in a row now she’d bathed. This was almost as good as her life on Poltar. But this wasn’t Poltar. Nothing would ever be like Poltar. Her home, and simple happiness were gone. Dree stepped out of the bathing area, the silky water rushing down her legs as she reached for the towel. “You need to hurry.” The sharp command didn’t come from Marc. Dree stood frozen in the middle of the small room staring at the closed door. Trent Dar spoke again. “The attacks will start soon and it would be best to get out of here.” He moved away from the door, his boots making a dull thud sound on the floor. She found the Gren in the outer living area, sitting at the table looking at printouts and focusing on his porta-comm. He stood when he saw her, gathering his things within a minute. “Let’s go.” He offered no explanation but headed toward the door. Dree watched his backside. The large man in front of her wore all black, the cape hanging over his shoulders giving him the appearance of being even larger than he was. “Where are we going?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer, she tried again. “Where is Marc?” They had reached the lobby and Dree noticed immediately that no one was around. Trent Dar still hadn’t given her any answers but took her arm and guided her to the door. Her stomach tightened when they stepped outside, nervous energy rushing through her. The first sun had crept over the horizon, its warmth doing nothing to soothe the chill of unease that crawled over her skin like tiny spiders. “Trent.” She stepped around him, needing some answers. “What did you mean by attack?” “I’ve been asked to protect you. There is no time for more knowledge now.” Those black eyes of his were haunting. This man from Greneen was a complete mystery, his expression revealing nothing. His tone and mannerism, however, turned her stomach into knots. Trent held the control to the carrier out in front of him, pushing the button that allowed the doors to open silently. For the first time, she rode up front, next to him, instead of sitting back in the cargo area.


But this wasn’t a joyride. The street she had stared down on the day before, which had been alive with the people of Lengorc, now looked deserted. Memories of Poltar, its towns quiet with a chilling hush, sent shivers running through her. Her homeland had been destroyed, torn apart by the Bortan. Dree closed her eyes for a moment, telling herself she wasn’t about to live through the same nightmare again. Trent Dar said nothing while he guided the carrier along the quiet streets. Lengorc was a decent-sized community and showed signs of being fairly prosperous. Most buildings, with their dark green hue from the stones dug from the land in the area, were well-kept. The second sun rising offered long shadows and made windows glisten adding a cheery sensation. But Dree didn’t feel cheerful. Her body yearned for Marc’s touch, her pussy still throbbing from their lovemaking the night before. Her breasts were swollen and her nipples craved his mouth, his warm heat suckling, pulling her into heated temptations. No man had ever stirred her this way. The next day after fucking a man had been just that. She’d never ached to be with someone a second time. Letting her thoughts drift toward Marc, she wondered where he was, why he had told Trent Dar to protect her. And she was certain the Gren had received his orders to take care of her from Marc. But what was he doing that she couldn’t have been with him? The possible answers to that question put an evil knot in her gut. Marc of Torin was attacking the King—which meant he could die. And she’d just met him, just fucked him. There was so much to this man; he wasn’t like anyone else she’d ever met. Glancing over at Trent Dar, his dark, brooding expression unreadable, she wondered if he’d been stuck taking care of her because Marc didn’t know what else to do with her. She’d met many men over the years, men from all walks of life. And one thing she knew about Marc of Torin was he was a warrior. The man walked through life with a code of honor. He had pulled her out from under King Sorale’s grasp, saved her from a fate worse than death. And now he was obligated to see she remained safe. Trent Dar slowed the carrier and Dree looked outside at their surroundings. They had arrived on the edge of Lengorc, the houses large and spread apart. Guards walked past them, all of them heavily laden with weapons that made her stomach churn. Today would not be a good day. She felt it in her bones. The carrier’s doors slid open and she stepped outside after the Gren got out on his side. “Report,” Trent Dar said to the nearest guard. The guard glanced at her but then straightened, giving his attention to the Gren. “The first attacks against King Sorale have been successful. The second armies wait for orders now.” The Gren nodded, a slight breeze lifting the silky black hair around his face. Dree watched him, her thoughts drifting to what Marc might be doing right now. She was certain he would be in the heart of battle, ensuring his men took down the King. Her heart tightened with worry and soared at the same time, her insides clenching with fear. Marc of Torin had more courage than she could imagine, taking on the ruthless King, fighting for so many who couldn’t fight for themselves. Marc had a good life, his personal existence and status obviously one of comfort and respect. Yet he fought to take down King Sorale because of how the King treated others. “Troops are ready to head toward the kingdom.” Another man approached them. He was large with a thick stature. Pudgy cheeks made his eyes appear squinty, and his dark orbs traveled quickly over the


three of them. He turned his attention to Trent Dar. “I suggest we keep a good amount of men here. The King has sent out troops. They know we are here.” “How do they know this?” Trent crossed his arms over his large chest, the long black cape he wore draping over the back of his shoulders. “They are monitoring us. We’ve captured their transmission.” The Gren nodded, the news not surprising. Even Dree would have guessed their enemy would go after computer transmissions to find out where the orders were being sent from. She desperately wanted to know where Marc was, but held her tongue. A group of carriers turned the corner at the end of the street and approached them. Several gliders hovered in front of them, leading the party. Within minutes, a large amount of men and women embarked and suddenly orders were being barked from all directions, a handful of people directing the rest. Trent turned to reach for her when a skinny man, wearing the similar garb as the rest, brown clothing made of material too thick to see through, came running from the house. “There is an air raid,” he yelled, waving his hands in the air. Suddenly chaos broke out. Men and women ran everywhere. A large humming sound invaded Dree’s senses before she realized what was happening. “Come on. Hurry.” Trent Dar grabbed her arm, his grip digging into her skin, and almost yanked her off of the ground. At the same moment she saw gliders in the sky, hundreds of them it seemed. The ground underneath them exploded, dirt flying everywhere, as they shot lasers toward them. Dree heard herself scream, memories of her home exploding, fire everywhere, people running helplessly from the attacks, invading her thoughts. Trent Dar pulled her away from the troops. She had no idea where he took her, but followed quickly, her heart racing while a lump formed in her throat. Many innocent people would die today so that others could live without suppression. Trent Dar opened the door to one of the homes and threw her inside. “Stay here,” he ordered, turning around before she could question him. “The walls will resist the explosions.” Dree struggled to her feet, the slight burn in her leg where she’d just torn her dress and scraped the skin, nothing compared to the sickening feeling that grew in her gut. Reaching for the door, ready to close it, she watched the ground in front of her explode in a straight line, lasers tearing the town up as attacks continued from the sky. Through the cloud of dust that formed thick in front of her, she watched Trent Dar fall and roll across the ground. Whether he successfully dodged the attack from the gliders above or not, she couldn’t tell. Dree stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes fixed on the black-clad figure while he tumbled over himself, his cape billowing up around him. He didn’t move. Dree stared in horror while his cape puffed up like a mushroom over him and his body lay crumpled underneath. If he were dead after trying to protect her, she wouldn’t be able to live with the knowledge. Not to mention, Marc would never forgive her. This was his friend. His comrade in battle.


Marc of Torin had trusted Trent Dar to do everything in his power to protect her. But he wouldn’t have wished the man dead just so she could live. Another explosion occurred, the ground shaking beneath her. Dree closed the door quickly, tears burning her eyes while she looked around at the room she’d been left in. Boxes of supplies, more than likely ammunition and parts for the carriers, were stacked along the walls. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, while her heart raced and a putrid taste rose to her throat. Her hands shook and her legs were wobbly. The burn from the scrape on her leg, when she’d fallen into the room, began to consume her and she looked down at the long rip in her new gown. A gown she’d so frivolously purchased. Screaming and yelling subsided outside, and Dree no longer heard anything flying overhead. “Please forgive me.” She knew her words were silly. But her heart ached for knowledge of Marc, and the Gren, who had risked his life to save hers. Chancing a peek outside, she opened the door, the smell of dirt and burning flesh clogging her senses immediately. Someone howled pathetically, but she had to take a moment, standing there, the sensation to vomit overwhelming her. These attacks would have happened whether she’d been there or not. But she couldn’t get the growing thought out of her head that Marc’s rescuing her, yet again, had put this town in jeopardy. There was no way of knowing if he would have housed his headquarters here if she hadn’t been with him. And the thought that he’d altered plans, attacked sooner than he’d anticipated because of her, made her sick to her stomach. With a quick glance she noticed Trent Dar no longer lay on the ground. If he were dead would they take his body? Or had he only been injured? There was no way he could have crawled away that fast if he’d come to, injured, and working to get out of the way. But she didn’t see him anywhere. She wouldn’t have more people dying because of her. A sickening feeling rushed through her, clamping down on her heart, when she realized that she needed to leave, somehow strike out on her own, and prevent anyone else from dying because of her. Grabbing the bottom of her torn dress, she hiked it up above her knees, and darted across the smoke-filled area. Too much was going on for anyone to notice her, she was sure of that. She ran behind the houses, away from the fires, just as she had done when her home burned on Poltar. What seemed like hours later, Dree stopped running, looking around the open field where she stood and back toward the town of Lengorc. A dark cloud of smoke covered the area where she had been. Tears burned her eyes, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. Her insides clenched with misery. A fear burned her insides alive. Never had she felt so alone as she did now. Thoughts of Bean, of Pren and the others still at the castle filtered through her. Was the castle under attack? “Please be okay.” She stared up at the sky, the brightness of the two suns making her squint. “Even if I were there, what could I do?” A rumbling noise just about made her jump out of her skin. Dree froze, her hands going up in a


self-defense reaction. Unable to hide in the open field, she stood there, knowing she would be dead any minute. Her heart raced painfully in her chest while a cold sweat broke out over her skin. Looking around frantically, she noticed several older model carriers, similar to the kind that brought shipments of goods to the castle, driving toward her. She watched while they slowed to a stop. There was no way she could outrun laser fire. One of the doors of the carriers slid open and she watched a man climb out and stand next to it. He appeared to be waving at her. “You there,” he yelled, obviously talking to her since there was no one else around. “What are you doing there?” She had no idea what to do. Clad in the simple gown, with no means of defending herself, she felt too vulnerable. But there was no hiding the fact that she stood in the middle of the field, not moving, staring at them. If they were friend or foe, she had no choice but to respond. “Running,” she yelled. The man gestured with his hand for her to approach. Her legs were stiff, sore from her quick exodus, and her feet burned. The undergrowth seemed to tear at her flesh when she began moving, approaching the carriers while panic rushed through her. Being at someone else’s mercy was getting a bit old. “Hurry girl. Get in.” The man talking to her was older, more than pudgy, and gesturing furiously for her to hurry. He didn’t sound aggressive. His appearance showed no indication that he meant to be hostile. “For the gods’ sakes, hurry and get in before the Bortan descend on the chaos.” He stepped back into the carrier, reaching to help her aboard. His last words made Dree hurry. Just thinking of how the Bortan raided her planet, and the destruction they were capable of had her realizing boarding with this stranger was much safer than risking running into the cruel man/machine beings. “Where are you headed?” She climbed in, almost falling to the side when the door shut at the same time that the cruiser took off again. Dree looked up at the woman driving while the lady looked over her shoulder at her briefly, before returning her attention to the road. “Back to the farm,” the older man told her after adjusting himself against the opposite wall of the carrier and then plopping down, his brown trousers bunching up, revealing thick hairy ankles. “Won’t be no market to buy in today.” “Do you know what happened back there?” The woman driving spoke, not taking her eyes off the road. “We heard rumors the King would attack, but do you know why?” Dree could guess at the answer. There were easily several reasons why. That these people might not know any of them made her wonder. She stared at the back of the lady who focused on her task. Thick black hair tumbled over her shoulders, balled up at the end in a round bun, making it impossible to guess


its length. The lady wore trousers like the others in the carrier, but she was younger, much younger, possibly about Dree’s age. “I’m not sure what is happening.” She decided saying less might keep her safer longer. The man in the passenger seat hadn’t addressed her yet. She studied his back, noticing only his dark hair and large stature. He didn’t turn around to address her but focused his attention out the window. Dree adjusted herself on the floor of the carrier, crossing her legs, content to sit out the ride in silence. Her legs were stiff when the carrier finally slowed, turning off of the road and then parking. She climbed out first, staring at the plush land around her, when the lady who had been driving walked around to stand next to her. “You hardly have a thing on.” The woman stared down at Dree, more than likely taking in her lack of tattoos. Dree in turn took in the woman speaking to her. A colorful vine pattern crossed around the woman’s arms, ending between her fingers. She’d never seen ink like that on someone before, but liked it. The woman’s expression showed her dislike of Dree’s appearance. Her dark eyes glanced down to Dree’s bare feet, and then back up to her face. “I didn’t have time to prepare for the attack.” And it was true. Not that she would have had any clothes to change into, but this woman didn’t need to know that. “Obviously.” She turned to the man who had rode in the passenger seat. “Alert everyone that there’s been an attack. I’ll head up to the house in a few minutes.” She turned back to Dree. “Come with me. Let’s find you some better clothes.” The woman still didn’t look satisfied with Dree’s appearance after she’d lent her brown trousers and a button-down shirt. Shy of the tattoos and the woman’s dark hair, Dree thought they looked somewhat alike, the clothing doing nothing to show off either of their figures, but decided not to comment. “Thank you,” she said, and the woman shrugged then turned to leave the small living quarters. Trepidation trickled through Dree while she followed the silent woman toward a large home. Made from the same green stones so common in Lengorc, the house stood on top of a hill, reminding her oddly of her master’s home back on Poltar. In the short time since she’d arrived, no one had given her any indication that these people were hostile. They’d offered her a ride and she’d been given clothes. Although not very social, there was no reason for fear. At least none that was apparent. But Dree couldn’t get her heart to stop racing. She was further from the castle and her people than she’d ever been. It was impossible to say where Marc was at the moment, or if he even knew she was missing. And there was nothing that she could do to find out how anyone was doing, or if they were still alive. Sucking in a tormented breath, she held her head high when they neared the large home. “If you want work here, you better be ready to tell them what you can do.” The woman hadn’t said a thing since she’d given her the clothing.


Dree stared at her, a few loose strands of black hair partially blocking her view of the woman’s face. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask for work. Dree exhaled, wondering how she would ever make it on her own when thoughts of taking care of herself were still so foreign. She needed to quit thinking like a slave. The only problem was she had no idea how a free person thought. The woman stepped onto the long porch, her boots clicking across the smooth wooden floor. Dree followed silently, her bare feet padding against the cool surface. “Wait here.” The lady didn’t look behind her but continued into the house, leaving Dree standing at the door. Taking a step or two into the foyer, the smooth wood under her feet felt cool. Dree took in the simple home, elegant in a way that wasn’t flashy. Whoever lived here hadn’t been here long. The smell of fresh wood proved the house had recently been built. A hard knot twisted in her stomach when footsteps sounded on the floor. The woman reappeared, a man with her. Dree held her breath when she saw the tall good-looking man approach. Grey eyes, almost lavender, pierced her with a scrutinizing stare. “We have no need for sex slaves.” His tone was harsh—and familiar. Dree’s mouth went dry while her palms grew damp. A heat rushed through her, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Her heart raced, but she’d come too far, risked too much to walk away with her head down. “I’m not a sex slave.” She swallowed a thick lump that lodged in her throat and forced herself to look in the eyes of her former master’s enemy. “As you well know. I am free, Trev of Kopah.” She thought she saw humor dance in the man’s eyes. He tapped his finger to his lips, studying her. Then slowly he walked around her. More than anything she wanted to back away from him, refuse to be studied like a slave on the seller’s block. But something inside her, maybe old habits that hadn’t yet died, held her in place. She held her head high though, refusing to humble herself in front of this former sex breeder from Poltar. What was he doing here? So many questions raced through her mind. He said he had no need for sex slaves, so obviously he either had as many as he needed, or simply had no interest in a former Torl sex slave. Either way that was fine. Dree had no desire to be owned by this man, or any man. Freedom had come at a high price, and she would do all that she could to keep it. Nonetheless, Trev of Kopah was Torl’s enemy. He recognized her for what she was, and she had just let him know that she knew his identity. And she was on his property, in his home. Fear gripped her, making it hard to keep her knees from wobbling. Her heart raced so hard she was sure he could hear it. And try as she would, it was real hard to keep her head and think straight when she worried she had walked into some kind of trap. This man might have been from her home planet but none of that mattered. He wasn’t Torl. And nothing would replace the wonderful life she’d had with her old master. Unable to take it any longer, she turned to look at Trev.


He stood to her side, still tapping his finger against his lips. “What do you want?” he asked her. “Nothing.” She clasped her hands behind her back, meeting his brooding stare. Her body still shook with fear; standing up to this man took all the strength she could find. Searching for words on top of that proved almost impossible. But she had to show him she knew how to be free. “I ran from the explosions. Your slaves picked me up and brought me here.” The woman coughed loudly. “I am hardly a slave,” she snapped. “Some appreciation I get after giving you clothes.” She turned and stomped out of the house, slamming the door not too kindly behind her. Trev of Kopah actually smiled. “There are no slaves here. We no longer deal in that business. We are farmers and I fear you’ve just upset one of my better employees. It’s not a good idea to get on Borna’s bad side.” He sounded so nice, almost too nice. And he was the closest thing she’d seen of home since her arrival on Benox. But she couldn’t let her guard down. In spite of the nerves that were wound so tight in her that she could barely breathe, she somehow had to keep her wits about her. Dree wrapped her arms around her waist, gripping herself in an effort to stop the growing pain of fear building in her gut. “I didn’t mean to offend her.” “What was that racket?” A woman came down the hallway, her tone alarmed and worried. Dree turned to look at her and her mouth fell open. Everything around her suddenly started to spin, her fears and embarrassment, her panicking and her worries all coming to a head at once. The woman stopped in mid-stride, staring at her as well. A slow smile appeared on her face. “Dree. I never thought I would see you again.” She held her arms open, walking toward her. Dree stared back in disbelief. She accepted the hug, adjusting herself so as not to hurt Marla of Torl, who was quite obviously very pregnant. Chapter Eleven

Dree sat in a large airy room, simple yet classy, facing her former mistress. She’d never been more nervous in all of her life. More than anything she wanted Marla of Torl to see her as independent, confident, sure of herself. But she couldn’t relax, had no idea what to do with her hands, and seemed at a loss for words. Her incompetence irked her. “You must tell me everything.” Marla glowed from the life growing in her, obviously quite happy. “How did you escape Poltar? And where have you been all of this time?” Dree glanced past Marla to Trev, who leaned in the doorway, appearing quite relaxed and just as happy. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what the two of them were doing here on Benox together.


“A shuttle brought some of us over. We were told there would be jobs for us.” Dree remembered those days too clearly. How naïve she’d been to think a shuttle driver cared at all about helping them find work. “Of course he lied. He’d thought he could sell us to King Sorale, but the king took advantage of his incompetence and then ignored us after he had us.” “So where have you been all this time then?” Marla shook her head, not appearing surprised by her comments about the King. “We’ve been at the castle.” “There are others from Torl with you?” Marla grinned, turning to look up toward Trev. He moved to stand behind her, caressing her shoulder. Dree tried not to stare, unnerved by the fact that these two known enemies were obviously so intimate with each other. The Torl and Kopah sex plantations were known rivals on Poltar. Marla had never spoken nicely of them. She wondered how long it had been going on. Maybe the two of them had an affair without their fathers’ knowledge. Dree glanced toward the window. None of that mattered now. “There are a handful of us.” She chewed her lip, wondering if she might be able to get questions answered. “Do you know if the castle was attacked?” “You don’t know?” Trev frowned at her. “I thought you just said that is where you have been staying.” Dree’s heart almost stopped. She would never be a warrior, never have the skill to interrogate without giving away her own secrets. She shifted in the chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “I ran away,” she lied. “The attacks happened while I was in Lengorc.” “I believe the House of Torin attacked the kingdom. Where the attacks occurred and whether the King is still in power, we haven’t yet heard.” Trev showed no indication whether he thought any of this a good thing or not. But Dree had just learned one thing. Neither of them knew the outcome of the attacks. She still didn’t know if Marc was okay, or not. Something clamped down hard on her heart, the pain wrenching through her. She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white from how hard she held her hands. The material of her trousers itched, and she desperately wanted to pull at the collar of her shirt. She wasn’t accustomed to so much clothing, and the misery of not knowing how Marc was soaked through her, adding to her discomfort. “You are welcome to stay here.” Marla’s tone was soft, obviously sensing her sadness, but misunderstanding its source. “We will do our best to let you know the standing of the kingdom as soon as we know.” A thought stirred inside Dree, something she had to take a chance on. “I escaped looking for a better place for all of us, all of us from Torl.” She glanced up at Trev, worrying he wouldn’t like hearing the name of her former home, even though his large hands caressed Marla’s shoulders. “I need to find out if the others are okay. They are relying on me.” Marla smiled. “You always were the mother hen, taking care of everyone. Who else is at the castle?” “Bean and Pren, and some of the younger ones.” If she could convince them to help her go after the


others, she would be able to find out where Marc was. Marla smiled sadly, but Trev simply shook his head. “I will stress that you have your freedom. In no way will we force you to stay here. But right now is not the time to venture into the kingdom. I’m sorry. You are welcome here and once we have word from our contact, we will be sure and let you know when it is safe to return.” Dree nodded, lowering her head. She needed to thank the gods that she was safe, and had found what appeared to be wonderful sanctuary. But her heart weighed heavy, needing desperately to know what Marc was doing, and even more so, if he worried at all about her whereabouts. Dree agreed to stay and was given quarters in a long servant’s home, broken down into small apartments for each of the workers under Marla and Trev. For the first time in her life, she slept alone, in a small room assigned to her. Never had she had to sleep without others around her, and it was more than unnerving. When someone knocked on her door, she stared at it, startled. Her entire life people had walked into whatever room she was in. Her own privacy, respect… What else would she have to learn to accept? Her fingers shook when she opened the door. Submitting had been so easy. Being assertive was taking a lot out of her. But if she was going to make it on her own, and not end up an underpaid servant, or sold back into slavery, she needed to figure out how to do this. A young boy, about the same height as she, stared back at her, unimpressed, when she opened the door. He flung a lock of black hair out of his eyes before speaking. “Borna says no one brings you food around here. You want to eat, better get your ass over to the fire and get your share.” Dree watched him walk away without saying anything else to her. Stepping out of her apartment, she saw that he joined a group of people standing around a large stone cauldron, laughing and carrying on. “There’s the one we picked up wandering in the field.” The man who had yelled at her to get in the shuttle earlier, gestured with his hand for her to join them. “I see they got you looking normal now. Must say you looked prettier in that dress.” “Shut up.” Borna glared at the man and then turned away from the cauldron, taking a bowl of something over to a large rock where she perched. “She ain’t yours, Borna.” The man laughed, his belly jiggling. “I don’t belong to anyone.” Dree stepped up to the caldron, smelling a rich meaty broth that teased her stomach to life. “Don’t mean she won’t try to get you.” Again the man laughed. “I said shut up.” Borna sounded fierce as she yelled at the man. “I can defend myself.” Dree guessed that Borna probably led the servants. Usually there was some kind of pecking order. But she needed to show this woman, and the others, that she wouldn’t be bullied. Borna raised an eyebrow, watching Dree over her bowl. “You ever been in a fight? You even know how to shoot a laser?”


Dree smiled at the man when he offered her a bowl of the thick soup, its aroma almost making her sick with hunger. She turned to face Borna, and the woman let her gaze travel down Dree and then up again. Borna looked at her the way a woman looked at a woman when she was interested in her sexually. Fortunately, that was territory that Dree was comfortable in. She didn’t bat an eye at the obvious once-over the other woman gave her. “I’ve never had the opportunity to shoot a laser,” she told her. Borna stood, putting her bowl on the rock. Walking up to Dree, she took her bowl and placed it on the rock. “Well now is your chance.” She pulled her laser from her belt and handed it to Dree. “Shoot that tree over there.” “Borna, leave her alone,” one of the other servants said. Dree ignored the comment and so did Borna. Taking the laser, Dree’s hands shook when she pointed it at the tree. She pulled the trigger and not one branch on the tree moved. Several servants behind her snickered. Borna took the laser from her. “That’s what I thought,” she muttered, returning to her rock, and her meal. Dree looked at the backside of the woman, her black hair balled up and secured with a narrow stick at the nape of her neck. She had an athletic build, her legs thin but appearing muscular through her snug-fitting trousers. Borna wore the same shirt the rest of the people around them wore, but hers was untucked and tied at her waist allowing a small amount of colorfully tattooed skin to show. “Did you learn to shoot the first time you fired a laser?” Dree asked her. Borna sat down on the rock and just stared at Dree for a moment. The rest of the servants grew quiet. Her heart began pounding while nervous energy rushed through her. Apparently, not many spoke out to Borna. The woman didn’t smile, and this time her dark eyes stayed on Dree’s face. “Eat your supper. Later I’ll give you another lesson.” It was almost too dark to see the trees, and still Dree didn’t want to stop with her lesson. Borna was patient with her, but harsh with her words. Her actions countered her tone though. “Hold your arms straight.” Borna stood behind Dree, her breath thick with the scent of their supper, as it brushed hot against Dree’s cheek. Borna’s breasts pressed against Dree’s backside, her nipples aroused like hard pebbles caressing Dree through her shirt. Although she’d been with women before, usually it had been as a show to entertain the men. Dree didn’t know how to react to a lady being turned on while alone with her. She blew out a breath of air, focusing on keeping her arms straight. Borna’s fingers glided over Dree’s arms, barely touching her, the sensation rippling through her giving her shivers. Borna was seducing her while teaching her to kill.


“That’s it. Look straight down the nose of your gun, aiming it at your target.” Borna’s words were no more than a soft whisper, as if their target was alive, a terrifying creature that might be alerted if they made a loud sound. Dree pressed her finger against the trigger, the metal indenting her skin. “Fire,” Borna breathed into Dree’s hair. Dree pressed harder against the thin strip of metal. Borna glided her hands over Dree’s shoulders, the heat from her touch traveling over her body, until Borna gripped Dree’s hips. The large branch Dree aimed at fell to the ground with a thud. “I did it.” Dree stared through the darkness while delight surged through her. She turned around, smiling. Borna ran her fingers over Dree’s cheek, the touch gentle. Her dark eyes were clouded with emotions Dree couldn’t read though. A warrior’s look with a lover’s touch. She hadn’t experienced behavior like this from a woman before. Borna brushed her lips over Dree’s, soft yet demanding. “You’re a quick learner,” she whispered, ending the kiss without ceremony. Borna was actually quite pretty when she smiled. Dark satisfaction appeared in her expression causing nerves of unease to tingle through Dree. The smile was a mere curve of her full moist lips. Yet Borna had the look of a satisfied predator. Dree wondered why she was being hunted. Was it sexual attraction, or something else? “Thanks.” Taking a step backwards, she turned from Borna when the woman didn’t reach for her. “It helps to imagine your enemy while firing.” Dree had spent the past hour imagining blowing the King’s head off while firing at the designated branches on the tree. Granted she’d missed most of them, but she was more comfortable with the weapon than she had been when she first fired it. But now something new drifted through the air, a feeling she got from Borna. She just couldn’t quite read what it was. “If you are really going to learn to defend yourself, you need to be able to fight, and use more accurate weapons for one-on-one combat.” Dree put the laser down on the table, understanding what Borna meant, but not having a clue what to do about it. She looked into the woman’s face, seeing no emotion there, just those dark orbs that watched her intently. A thick sensuality swarmed around the woman, her sultry moves a distraction. Without warning the woman leapt, lunging into Dree, taking her down. Borna landed on top of her, the hard ground underneath knocking the wind out of her lungs. “Lesson number one.” Borna didn’t move off of her, but braced her arms on either side of Dree’s face, her body pinning Dree’s to the ground. “Never trust a fucking soul.” “Don’t hurt me.” Dree could barely breathe. “You know I can’t hurt you.” Borna raised herself off of Dree so that just her legs trapped Dree’s lower half. Her dark lashes fluttered


down, taking in the deep inhales that pressed Dree’s breasts against her shirt. Borna moved one hand, brushing strands of hair away from Dree’s face. This was new territory. All she could do was lie motionless waiting to see what this female warrior would do next. Borna cocked her head, tracing her finger along Dree’s jawbone, down her neck, blood pulsing so hard through her veins she could hardly catch her breath. “Yes. I know that you can’t hurt me.” Borna wasn’t looking at her face, her gaze appearing to follow the path of her finger. “What are you going to do?” Dree sucked in her lower lip, nibbling it between her teeth. Borna adjusted her weight, the ground underneath Dree digging into her back. She ran her fingers over the material that covered her breasts, sucking in her breath while she did so. “You are so damned beautiful. I’m sure I could think of many things to do with you.” Still Borna didn’t look at her, those long thick eyelashes hooding her gaze. She ran her tongue slowly over her lips, enjoying herself while she brushed her fingers over Dree’s hard nipples. When Dree sucked in a breath, those eyes that were the color of night gave her a hard look. “And I have a feeling I would enjoy every minute of it,” she added. Borna moved her body slightly, easing some of her weight off of Dree, but keeping her legs trapped with her own. She reached for Dree’s shirt, lifting it, the night air rushing over her too warm skin. Borna pushed the shirt up, exposing Dree, her breasts rising and falling with every nervous breath she sucked in. “You are very beautiful too,” Dree told her, her mind racing to think of something to say so that Borna would let her up. She didn’t know this woman well at all, and had no clue if her words would outrage her, or simply get her more excited. She had to take the chance. “But I don’t imagine for a moment that I could do whatever I want with you.” Borna puckered her lips, almost appearing to hide a smile. She lowered her head, her shiny black hair falling in strands over Dree’s white skin. Dree closed her eyes, feeling the moist heat from Borna’s mouth cover first one nipple, and then moving to the other. A staggered breath escaped Dree. Borna was good, not only at fighting, but at arousing a person too. She tugged on Dree’s nipple with her lip, letting it go and then licking it with a slow, graceful swipe of her tongue. “Borna.” Dree had no idea what this woman wanted from her. If it was a relationship, Dree had nothing to offer her. If she wanted Dree’s body, it wasn’t for sale. “Borna…I…” “For the sake of the gods, woman.” Borna grabbed Dree by her shirt, pulling her to her feet as easily as she had knocked her down. “Don’t you think I damned well know that? You were trained to fuck. And I’m sure you are mighty good. I was trained to be a warrior, but I learned how to be a damned good fuck. Now let’s see if you can be trained to fight.” Borna ran her fingers down Dree’s arms, her touch gentle even though her actions had been rough. Dree took a step backwards, swallowing her nerves, allowing the large lump to settle uneasily in her stomach, while she straightened her shirt. “I was born a sex slave. Doing anything else never crossed my mind.” She didn’t know about this.


Attacking someone the way Borna had just attacked her, how would she know if they would fight back or not, or if they were a better fighter? “And I was born a warrior.” Borna held her hands out, palms up, on either side of her, her dark eyes glowing with passion. “Yet look at me. Now I farm.” Dree didn’t understand. She shook her head. “What does one have to do with the other?” Borna stepped closer, her movement slow and quiet, like a cat, very feminine, yet somehow putting Dree on the defensive. “I know how to kill, but that doesn’t mean I can’t grow things, too,” she said, her tone soft and low. “And you know how to offer pleasure, but that doesn’t mean you can’t also offer pain.” Something in her tone chilled Dree’s blood. Icy fingertips seemed to trace patterns down her back while she studied the dark-haired woman. Borna was beautiful in a deadly sort of way. She definitely wasn’t someone Dree would want to piss off. “I’m not into pain,” Dree told her honestly. Borna smiled. “Neither am I. I’m into survival.” That made sense. Dree had no idea what this woman’s story was, but something had brought her here, just as it had Dree. And like Borna, she too would survive. “Will you teach me to fight?” Borna smiled, running her knuckles over Dree’s cheek. “I already am,” she whispered. Borna was aroused. Whether it was lust, or a true attraction, Dree couldn’t tell, but she knew arousal when she saw it. Walking into her, Borna kissed her again, this time not touching her with her hands. Just their lips touched, Borna opening her mouth slightly, a fiery heat rushing through Dree. Thoughts of Marc touching her, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, his body pressed to hers, brought her senses to life. A sexual awakening and a passion to learn what she could from this woman, use her knowledge to grow, to be stronger—Borna offered that. What she wanted in return, Dree didn’t know. But she did know that there was always a price. When Borna’s hands gripped Dree’s waist, her fingers seemed to brand her right through her clothing. Borna pulled her closer, meshing their hips together. A low groan escaped her lips and she deepened the kiss, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. Dree returned the kiss, not wanting to offend Borna. She let her imagination draw up an image of Marc, his aggressive manner so unlike Borna’s, yet oddly similar, too. She gasped when Borna slid her hand into her pants, running her rough touch over her belly and down to her most sensitive area. “You are so damned wet.” Borna was breathing hard when she broke the kiss, licking her lips while she


thrust her fingers deep inside the heat of Dree’s pussy. “Do I turn you on?” “I enjoy sex,” Dree admitted, wondering if she should feel ashamed that kissing Borna had aroused her. “And that is it?” Borna ran her teeth over her lower lip while her fingers spread inside Dree’s cunt, soothing a growing itch that formed deep inside. “Anyone could make you hot like this?” “No. Not anyone.” Dree knew the King would never get her aroused. The Bortan would never fuck her without a fight. “Then why are you wet for me?” Borna cocked her head, licking her lips while she moved her fingers slowly in and out of Dree. “You want something from me.” Dree sucked in her breath. “Yes, and?” Borna’s fingers began creating a new itch, a craving for something more than this woman could offer her. “Well I want something from you, too.” Dree could hardly catch her breath. Fear and arousal pumped through her so hard she thought her heart might explode. “What do you want?” Borna asked, slowly pulling her fingers out of Dree’s cunt, and then running her wet fingers, soaked from Dree’s come, up Dree’s belly. “I want to learn to fight, to defend myself, to attack when necessary.” Dree met Borna’s gaze, wondering if her confession that she would allow Borna to do what she wanted in return for getting something out of the warrior would piss her off. “You would give me your body in return for learning how to fight?” Borna whispered, her sultry tone more than unnerving. “If I had to.” And it was the truth. The only way she would survive on this planet was if she learned how to protect herself. And Borna wasn’t the only one with skills. Dree just needed to fine-tune hers in order to be as deadly as this warrior woman. Borna didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then slowly, she walked around Dree, not touching her. Dree wondered if this weren’t another act of intimidation, since she had no idea what Borna’s next move would be, whether it would be aggressive or intimate. “Hit me.” Borna’s words brought her out of her meanderings, slicing through her as if she’d pulled out a knife and punctured her skin. “What?” Dree brushed her hair away from her face, her elbow burning when she bent it. “Attack me the way I just did you.” Borna put her hands on the curve of her hips, her flat tummy appearing hard as rock between her shirt and her pants. “I don’t know how.” Dree studied her, seeing how tense the woman was, her legs parted, her feet planted firmly on the ground. Her shoulders were thrown back, her nipples pressing like hard beacons


against the material that stretched over her breasts. “Imagine I’ve done some hateful thing to you. Fill your heart with anger.” Again Borna spoke in that sensual whisper. She could just as easily be whispering erotic promises, her voice was so low and beckoning. The distraction was unnerving. No woman had ever turned her on before. But this sensuality of Borna’s was her best weapon. If she had this kind of impact on Dree, just imagine how she would be when fighting a man. Dree filled her mind with images of King Sorale, his beady eyes filled with evil, his thin lips pressed into a sneer. Closing her eyes, she let her emotions fill her, focusing on how ill-treated they had been since arriving on Benox. She took a deep breath, peeking from underneath her lashes, and ran into Borna. The woman threw her to the ground. “Again,” she said. “If you fail, I will kill you. Attack me.” Fear lurched inside Dree. Borna sounded like she meant it. Her hands and knees burned from the rough impact, but she forced herself to stand. This time she didn’t wait, but ran at Borna, raising her fists to strike the woman’s face. Again she was knocked to the ground. “Jump to the side when I strike back. Don’t let yourself fall to the ground.” Borna stood over her. “I could take you while you are down. Don’t let me do that.” An hour later Dree was in tears. She was no match for this trained warrior. She refused to get up this time, her legs and arms screaming in pain from bruises and cuts. “You might as well give up on me.” Dree shook her head, wiping her tears with the back of her dirt-covered hand, but unwilling to brush her hair from her face. She knew Borna was disappointed in her. Borna reached down, sliding her hands underneath Dree’s armpits. Slowly she lifted her, like a mother would lift a child who had fallen in play. Instead of helping her stand, she picked her up, cradling her in her arms. “The only way we give up is if you give up on yourself.” She turned toward the line of apartments, stepping silently across the small open field until they had reached the door to Dree’s small room. She carried Dree with little effort. This woman was obviously a lot stronger than she appeared. Never had she met anyone like Borna. Kicking the door open with her foot, Borna entered the dark room, placing Dree down on her bed. Already the stiffness had set in throughout her body, her muscles racked from abuse she wasn’t accustomed to. Borna leaned over her, adjusting the blanket, and covered her with the gentleness of a lover. “Tell me why you want to learn how to fight.” Borna sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair to the side of Dree’s face.


Dree looked up at the warrior woman, dark hair falling in strands around her oval-shaped face. Borna had a creamy complexion, her muscles so relaxed, her emotions so masked, it made her beautiful and dangerous looking at the same time. She didn’t hide her voluptuous body with her shirt tied above her waist, and her full curves and colorful tattoos were more than a distraction. This was her best weapon though, her sex appeal luring and tempting. Dree had a feeling Borna could use her body as bait, and then easily destroy her enemy with her quick, deadly actions. “I think that is obvious.” It even hurt to smile. Dree wondered if she would even be able to move come morning. “I don’t know how, and need to be able to take care of myself.” The side of Borna’s mouth curved up, a small smile, her full lips moist although she ran her tongue over them anyway. “I think I like you, Dree of Torl. Marla said that I would.” “She did?” Even though she shouldn’t feel that unending bind to her former mistress, her heart swelled at the thought that Marla would say kind things about her. “Have you always been a sex slave?” Borna seemed comfortable on the edge of Dree’s bed, her hip nestled against Dree’s side. She reached out, running her finger down the side of Dree’s face, teasing the skin with a delicate touch. “Have you pleased your mistress before? Sexually, that is?” She could have told Borna that was none of her business. That was the first response that popped into her head. But this mysterious woman had offered her services, spent time working with her when she could have been doing something else. “Yes to both.” Dree knew there was no way she could offer Borna any pleasure tonight. Her body was too sore. Those dark eyes smoldered at the knowledge that Dree had been with a woman before, or maybe just knowing that she’d submitted sexually all of her life was the turn-on. Borna traced a path along Dree’s jawbone, and then down the curve of her neck. “It will be hard to overcome your submissive nature.” Her sultry tone was like enchanting music, soothing and beckoning. Dree would never admit how hard. She lazily raised her shoulder, attempting a shrug while lying there. “Tell me about you,” she suggested, deciding to change the subject. Borna raised one pencil-lined dark eyebrow. “What makes a warrior decide to farm?” she asked, hoping her question didn’t offend Borna. Borna lifted a strand of Dree’s hair, rubbing it between her fingers before letting it fall. She didn’t offer an immediate answer, the silence growing between them while the room seemed to grow darker. “That answer would terrify you.” Her words sent a chill through Dree’s body. She adjusted herself under the blanket, her body screaming in retaliation from soreness and bruises and scrapes. Suddenly she couldn’t get warm, Borna’s words making her worry as to what the truth might be.


“Tell me,” she whispered, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “It was wrong of me to encourage your attacks earlier.” Borna spoke softly now, her voice as soothing as her touch, a gentle stroke of flesh against flesh. Her fingers were warm, the heat from her traveling through Dree, creating a flush on top of the chill. She couldn’t look away from that dark expression, her sensual gaze almost intoxicating. “You will never be able to defeat me.” Borna didn’t brag, just added the knowledge casually. “My people are warriors, surgically altered from birth onward as we mature, ensuring our best assets develop properly. I am designed to seduce and destroy. It’s in my nature. We are designed to conquer, taking what we want, offering no alternative other than submission.” Dree found it hard to swallow, her mouth suddenly too dry. Part of her wanted to tell Borna to stop, that she didn’t need to hear anymore. Yet the truth waited right around the corner. And she had a feeling it would do worse than terrify her. “Who are your people?” she asked, almost unable to form the words her mouth parched from her quick breaths. “I am Bortan, born and raised.” Borna stood quickly, as if she already knew how her words would affect Dree. But all Dree could do was stare at the woman who quickly faded into the dark shadows of the room, horror paralyzing her while she stared at her worst enemy. Chapter Twelve

The matter shouldn’t be so complicated. Marc of Torin turned, feeling more than frustrated as he stared at the handful of some of his best officers. “What do you mean, you can’t find him?” He knew irritation ruled his tone. But damn it to all of the hells, this was ridiculous. “How can the King simply disappear?” “We’re sure his men have secured him somewhere, possibly in one of the homes in his kingdom.” Jax Raleer sounded just as frustrated as he felt. Marc knew the woman had family at home and wanted all of this to end as quickly as he did. She would never complain though. Jax was one of his best soldiers, as were the others in the room. “Or he could already be dead.” Porg Rihd stared out the window, taking over the spot where Marc had been before they had all entered for the debriefing. Marc sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “How can we not have a clue where the King is?” No one answered right away. Porg walked over to the table, the only piece of furniture in Marc’s makeshift office. He opened the porta-comm sitting there, the screen humming to life.


“We attacked several places,” Porg began, his weather-beaten face looking tired when he looked at Marc. “But we weren’t able to penetrate the castle. And without wiping out hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people, we won’t be able to.” “No one is coming or going from the castle though,” Jax added. “Their supplies are cut off and we have a fairly secure hold on the rest of the kingdom.” Marc nodded, his thoughts drifting to Dree and how concerned she was that her people get out of there and be given a chance at a new life. “Make it known that anyone who wants to leave the castle may do so. They will have to cross through our guards but do not harm any of them. We’ll starve the King out of there, I hope. I don’t want unnecessary bloodshed.” It wasn’t real clear if either of them agreed with his orders or not. But at the moment he didn’t care. It had been a long day and all he wanted right now was to see Dree. “There have been attacks outside the kingdom.” Jax twisted the long braid the fell over her shoulder. Tattoos of different geometric designs covered her arms. “The Bortan were working with King Sorale on obtaining certain rights on Benox.” “More like preparing to oust him and take over,” Porg said, his tone bordering on disgust. “Well I would have had no problem with them doing our dirty work for us,” Marc told them, “except we all know what the Bortan do once they remove power from a planet.” The two of them nodded, knowing King Sorale would become a very minor problem if the Bortan gained more say in the kingdom. “And we have reports of the King’s armies being close to Torin.” Jax pulled out one of the chairs from under the table and slid the porta-comm so that it faced her. “So far they haven’t made any action.” “The King’s men are waiting for his next order,” Marc guessed. “It’s a weak assumption but possibly he isn’t in a position to be giving orders.” “I think we need to worry more about the Bortan moving in while we are taking down the King.” Porg voiced Marc’s own worries. “Where were these attacks?” Marc asked Jax, his thoughts drifting once again to Dree. She’d better be safe or he would have the Gren’s neck. “Lengorc mainly.” Jax pressed a few keys on the pad while focusing on the screen in front of her. “It looks like we secured the situation fairly quickly. Only a couple deaths are reported.” Anger simmered through Marc, and he despised the King even more for allowing that brutal race on the planet. He rubbed the back of his neck, needing to ease the growing tension so he could stay focused. Trent Dar had been his friend for many years, and was an outstanding warrior. As hard as it had been to leave Dree, he knew there was no better protector for her than the Gren. “What about the other nations on the planet?” Porg asked. “It will only be a matter of time before the Bortan contact those leaders.”


“I’ve already thought of that.” Marc moved behind Jax, looking over her shoulder at the small monitor. “Have one of the communications officers prepare a statement letting the rest of the planet know our standing. I’ll brief it before we send it out.” Jax nodded without looking up. Marc headed toward the door, needing to get out of there. He turned to look at his officers while reaching for the door handle. “And find that damned King,” he barked. Heading toward the glider he’d assigned to himself earlier, the last thing he wanted to do was ensure all troops were secure. Energy burned inside him, something dark and disturbing. King Sorale had inflicted a life of misery on the people of his kingdom. And the closer his nasty claws got to the house of Torin, the more Marc had wanted to take him down. But disappearing? Marc straddled the glider, bringing the machine around and forcing the motor underneath him to roar for a minute. He wanted to tear out of there, fly without direction while he sorted his thoughts. King Sorale didn’t just disappear. But where was the bastard? How had he managed to slip through their fingers? The people of Torin wouldn’t be pleased at all to know their warriors would be kept here, hounding these streets, until they found the King. They wanted a swift and merciful attack, not endless bloodshed. Marc adjusted his mouthpiece to his face before taking to flight. “Trent Dar,” he said into the small microphone, while accelerating away from the small group of houses where he’d set up his temporary headquarters inside the kingdom. There were a few almost inaudible clicks and then the line opened. “Dar here.” “Report.” And he wanted to know if Dree was okay. There was no need to ask. The Gren would tell him all he wanted to know. “Lengorc was attacked in five different locations. The King’s armies attacked two locations, and the Bortan attacked three. All were small raids and sustained in a short time.” Trent Dar offered little voice inflection, offering the summary without emotion. The Bortan seldom worked with another nation during battle. They were self-seeking slaughterers. And the King was a fool not to see that. The Bortan used him to move around his kingdom without questions. But Marc knew as soon as they thought they were stable on Benox, they would strike and take over the planet. They needed to be stopped soon. “And what about Dree? Is she with you?” He wanted to talk to her, needed to hear her voice. More than likely the attacks scared her to death. It ate him alive thinking she probably endured that fear alone. She’d had enough of that kind of hell in her life. “She ran away.” Trent Dar’s words hit him like a knife, digging painfully deep into his chest. “Gren.” Marc would have leveled the man to the ground if he’d been within his grasp. Anger fumed through him with the speed of lightning. He white-knuckled the handles on the glider, forcing the machine to accelerate. “Where the fuck is she?” he bellowed.


“We followed her to Kopah-Torl.” Trent Dar’s tone didn’t change. None of Marc’s aggressions fazed him. “Kopah-Torl.” Marc barely realized he’d spoken out loud. The people from Poltar, who’d arrived less than a year ago with enough money to buy almost half of Benox. He knew little about them, other than they had purchased all the land west of the kingdom and Torin. Taking over a winery that had been run by thieves, their security was tight, and they kept to themselves. No one messed with them since they produced the best wine in the area, harvested and produced right there on Kopah-Torl. “She was picked up by one of their workers and hasn’t left the main house since she arrived.” At least the Gren had taken the initiative to ensure she remained safe. “She is with her own people.” “She was from Torl.” Something ripped at his heart. A dark, brooding jealousy that didn’t sit well with him at all. Mine.Although he had no formal rights to Dree, more than anything he wanted to barge into Kopah-Torl and demand she return with him. But the matter wasn’t that simple. The couple who ran the successful ranch had a small army protecting them from everyone on the outside. More than likely the disaster that had hit their home world had turned the successful sex breeders into paranoid recluses. Marc had never worried about them until now. He didn’t want Dree to find happiness there. Selfish as that might be, he wanted her to be happy with him. “I know their contact,” the Gren offered, obviously aware of how this knowledge tore at Marc. “We’ll speak with him soon and get an update on her.” Marc updated Trent on the standing of the kingdom, and how the King had disappeared. “The King won’t care if you destroy half of his people looking for him.” Trent Dar showed the first sign of bitterness in his tone. But then the Gren had no respect for those who showed no honor. “The Bortan will do it for us if we aren’t careful.” Marc had traveled over half of the kingdom so far. Glancing down while he spoke, he kept his eyes peeled for the silver carriers that the Bortan were known to travel in when on ground. There were none to be seen and for the most part, everything appeared calm—the calm before the storm. ***** By the end of the week, Marc was about ready to pull his hair out. A warrior didn’t do well sitting and waiting. And his troops wanted action. “Either we return to Torin, or we attack.” Porg had cut to the root. “Frustration levels are peaking, Marc.” “Prepare the troops.” Marc pushed buttons on his porta-comm, allowing a transmission to come through. “Cover every inch of that castle, but inform the men there will be no unnecessary killing.” Porg didn’t question him. The older man had been a warrior for too long. And Marc had no desire to share the mental promise he’d made Dree, even though she wasn’t here to tell. Her people were inside


there, and if they were still alive, he would take them to Torin, give them a chance to lead better lives. One of his communication officers walked into the room before Porg reached the door. “Bortan battleships have been picked up by one of our satellites,” she informed them. “They should be in orbit before nightfall.” “Prepare evasive action.” Marc pushed away from the table, standing up quickly. “They cannot be allowed to enter our atmosphere.” The officer nodded and hurried out the door. Her computer was set up in one of the carriers. Marc hurried to the door, calling after her. “And prepare for departure. They will attack the kingdom first. We return to Torin in the morning.” “And the attack on the castle?” Porg asked him. “Attack now. I want complete control of this kingdom before the Bortan come anywhere close to orbiting.” Porg nodded, his expression showing that he agreed. “Dar,” he almost yelled into his microphone after securing the communication device around his head. “We’re headed home.” “Understood.” The Gren never seemed to need to be filled in on any matter. Somehow the man already knew everything. “Lengorc is secure.” Marc didn’t wait for his troops to move into the castle. He knew Porg and Jax could handle the situation. Taking a small amount of warriors with him, he headed west, deciding to meet up with Trent Dar before returning to Torin. “We have two days before the Bortan will be in orbit,” Trent Dar said in way of greeting when Marc entered the room he’d reserved for them almost a week ago. The first thing he noticed was the large window where he’d seen Dree standing in that luscious gown. So damned beautiful, and so willing to fuck him. “Make contact with Kopah-Torl.” He didn’t bother with greetings either. And the Gren didn’t question him. He raised one eyebrow, and Marc swore he saw amusement in the man’s dark eyes before Trent looked down at his screen, pushing several buttons silently. Marc walked over to the window, looking down at the street. Everything appeared business as usual. Townsfolk moved leisurely in and out of the shops, children darting around their parents. He would see they continued to enjoy their prosperous lives here. “I have an open line with them now.” Trent Dar spoke from behind him. Marc turned, moving to the table and sliding the porta-comm away from the Gren. He sat down at one of the other chairs, Trent Dar not questioning his actions, although he kept a firm watch on him. Marc could feel those black eyes watching his every move.


Marc pushed the button that would allow him to speak instead of type. He stared at the man on the screen, who he knew in turn watched him. “This is Marc of Torin,” he began, and the man nodded. Instead of commenting, the man on the screen looked to his side, then moved as another man appeared on the monitor. “Trev of Kopah-Torl here. What can we do for you, Sir?” The man offered a congenial smile, his manner relaxed. Marc watched while the landowner and successful farmer, who once dealt in a lucrative business of selling sex slaves on Poltar, relaxed in a comfortable-looking chair. He had charming good looks, the type of man that women would turn and give a second look to. Although the computer image didn’t offer perfection, Marc could tell the man was in good shape. But he guessed Trev of Kopah-Torl had never done a hard day’s labor in his life. Here was a man accustomed to giving orders, not taking them, and having others do his work for him. Marc didn’t like him. “We are securing the area. I thought it would be best to make sure all landowners were properly protected.” Marc had no idea if Dree had spoken of him, or not. Trent Dar watched him from across the table, no doubt wondering what he was about. Those dark eyes, which never blinked when concentrating, burrowed into him. Whether the Gren judged him or not, he kept Marc on his toes. But damn it to all the hells, just looking at Trev of Kopah-Torl on the monitor made Marc’s blood boil. The urge to bully the man, push him to see what his breaking point was, coursed through Marc like a nasty poison. If he ever found out Trev had any sexual contact with Dree while she stayed there, he would kill the man. “We appreciate your offer for protection.” Trev’s smooth tone got on Marc’s nerves. “But I think we are amply protected.” “Our satellites have picked up several Bortan ships approaching Benox.” Trent Dar leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Giving this man such information normally wouldn’t be a good move. One never knew where a man’s loyalties might lie. Marc looked over the monitor screen at the Gren. “His home planet was destroyed by the surgically altered bastards,” he said, realizing he spoke through clenched teeth. He forced out a breath. “I doubt he has any loyalties to them.” “I didn’t say a word.” The Gren mocked him. And he was the only man on this planet who could get away with talking to him like that. Marc looked down at the screen in time to see Trev look off to the side. There were others in the room with the landowner, others who heard what Marc had just said. Trev had turned off his sound, and spoke to someone while Marc watched. Possibly his mate, Dree’s former mistress, was there with him. He imagined what he had just told Trev would have upset her. Trev of Kopah-Torl looked his way, his hand moving as he enabled Marc to hear his words. “What did


you have in mind?” He had plenty in mind, searching the man’s grounds for one. Finding Dree and taking her with him were foremost on his mind. “I will stop by with a few of my men. In no way do we wish to alarm anyone, nor disturb the serenity of your land. I think a brief visit to discuss options in person would be best.” Trev nodded, the chivalrous expression returning to his face. “We look forward to meeting you.” The screen went blank. Marc wondered if Trev spoke on behalf of himself and his mate, or if the man was so pompous he referred to himself in the plural, the way royalty did. He shut the porta-comm and then stood, moving back to the window. “How many men do you want to join us?” Trent Dar asked. “Form a small party, less than ten. I doubt we will run into any situations between here and there.” Marc didn’t turn around, and the Gren didn’t comment, just left the room quietly. Marc knew he would need the time it took to fly to Kopah-Torl in order to calm down. Fire burned through his soul, the need to see Dree, have her back in his arms, and know why she had run from him. The woman had moved something inside him, stirred emotions he never knew that he had. And he wasn’t sure what he would do if he discovered she didn’t want to be with him. His hands balled into fists, these new thoughts of her running away from him, and not from the attack, didn’t settle well at all. Somehow he would find her, talk to her, discover her thoughts. Marc took a look around the room, barely seeing its contents. Nothing jumped out at him as an item that he needed to have, so he left the room, knowing it wouldn’t take the Gren long to prepare to leave. He found Trent Dar giving instructions to a handful of warriors, all on gliders. They would travel light, their intention not to startle any of the farmers into thinking battle would occur on their land. “Ready when you are,” he told Marc. Marc climbed onto his waiting glider. “Let’s head out.” He took to the air quickly, more than ready to get to Kopah-Torl. He wanted in and out of that place, and to be headed home, with Dree with him. The flight took well over an hour, which wasn’t enough time to soothe the growing fire burning within him. Anger brewed in his gut from the events occurring around them. And frustration plagued him, knowing he had to be on his best diplomatic standing with these landowners, but wanting nothing more than to march in there and demand Dree be turned over to him. “We’re entering Kopah-Torl land,” Trent Dar told him through his headset. Marc looked over at the Gren, the man’s dark features, as usual, impossible to read. It was important to ensure all land around Torin had no weak areas. King Sorale didn’t have a lick of sense about him. He would help the Bortan take over the planet, and not even realize he was doing it. So arriving here was completely justified. “Take us up to the house. Unless stopped, I plan on walking through the front door.”


Trent Dar nodded, and lowered their elevation. The small group flew close to the ground, a sign of non-hostility, allowing themselves to be an easy target. Marc wasn’t worried about any aggression though. These people didn’t have the capability to harm them. He was confident that they had more weapons on their gliders alone than this farm probably had on its entire land. A large home came into view, sprawled out with plush grounds surrounding it. There were several outbuildings, one of them appearing to be rather decent-looking servant quarters. That impressed him. He wouldn’t have pictured previous slave owners as being the kind to take care of hired help that well. A stocky man walked around from the side of the house, noticed them, and stopped in the front of the house, adjusting a communication device over his head. Marc and the others landed, slowing to a stop in front of the man while he spoke into his mouthpiece, more than likely notifying Trev of Kopah-Torl of their arrival. Marc parked his glider and climbed off, taking in his surroundings as he approached the man. “I’m Marc of Torin. Please let Trev know that we are here.” “You’re expected.” The older man pulled his headset from his head and stuffed it in a back pocket. “Follow me,” he told them, squinting against the suns as he gave them all a curious look-over. They probably didn’t have a lot of unknown visitors out this way. The serene setting, a comfortable landowner’s home surrounded by such plush vegetation, gave the place a utopian feeling about it. A person could get mighty comfortable here. Marc didn’t see anyone else outside the home, although he imagined the servants would be working in the field during the day. Crops were visible to the side of the house, the exotic fruit that made their coveted wine, growing in rows as far as the eye could see. “My men can wait outside.” Marc offered a relaxed smile to the stocky, older man. “We don’t want to disrupt anyone’s home with the lot of us coming inside.” The man returned the smile, his gaze sweeping over the warriors behind Marc. “I’ll see to it that they get a cold drink then.” Marc nodded, and then glanced at Trent Dar, whom he knew would follow him inside whether he gestured for him to do so, or not. They had just set foot inside the house, when a woman’s excited voice was easily heard. “What do you mean she has left?” The woman’s shrill tone made it apparent she was upset. Another woman’s voice, not so easily heard, spoke hurriedly. But the first woman who spoke cut her off. “She can’t just leave. There is no way she will survive with a war pending. This is terrible, just terrible.” The woman’s voice grew louder with each word. Heavy footsteps sounded from another corner of the house. Marc and Trent stood inside the front door, the older man in front of them hesitating, as if he wasn’t sure what to do. A man’s voice, low and reassuring, drifted toward them, barely audible.


“I will not calm down. You don’t understand. She is part of Torl, like family to me.” Her words hit Marc like a brick to his gut. How many women here were from Torl? And whoever they discussed had just left. He fought the urge to lunge forward, push the servant out of the way. The urge to demand to know who they spoke about swarmed through him with a vengeance. “Now isn’t the time to discuss this.” The man speaking was Trev, at least he sounded like the man who’d spoken on the computer. “We have men arriving to determine if we are protected.” “Obviously we aren’t if one small woman can walk away from here and no one stops her.” The woman had a point. “She had her freedom. But we’ll discuss this later.” Again the man, who sounded like Trev, tried to silence her. “Then it will be too late.” She sounded ready to burst into tears. “I thought we had bonded again. Damn it to all the hells, Trev, I brought her to you.” Fire rushed through Marc so quickly he could barely stand still. What did she mean, she had brought the woman to him? Had Dree fucked Trev of Kopah-Torl? Would her ties to her old mistress still be so strong that she would do what the woman asked? Marc clenched his fists, something dangerous and dark forming deep in his soul. No one had better lay a hand on Dree. No one. “Maybe we should wait outside,” the Gren suggested. The servant turned to face them, his expression showing his uncertainty. But Marc knew Trent Dar didn’t suggest they wait outside to be courteous. Marc was ready to destroy something, anger brewed in him ready to boil over. Trent Dar simply wanted him outside so he wouldn’t do something stupid. They all turned when a man appeared at the end of the hallway, a woman behind him. She was obviously quite pregnant and held her hand over the bulge in her tummy. “Welcome to Kopah-Torl,” the man extended his hands in greeting, that same boyish charm in his manner that he’d displayed on the computer. “I am Trev and this is my mate, Marla.” Marc glanced at the extended hand, wanting more than anything to grab it and swing the man over his shoulder until he had him flat on the floor. “I am Marc of Torin,” he heard himself say. But what he really wanted to say was, did you fuck Dree? Chapter Thirteen

Dree couldn’t believe her eyes. Those were Marc of Torin’s men, she was sure of it. But what the hell were they doing here at Kopah-Torl? Beads of perspiration formed along her back and between her breasts. She shoved her hair away from


her face, standing alongside the apartments for the servants, the suns beating down on her with powerful rays. Her note would have been discovered by now, and she hadn’t even made it off of the grounds. “What if Marc is here?” she asked herself, the urge to run and turn back toward the house warring inside her. There was no way she could stay here though. It was bad enough with Borna. The woman blessed her with a kindness that wasn’t in her nature. Ever since she’d told Dree that she was Bortan, Dree hadn’t known how to act around the woman. Her heart raced anytime Borna came to her. Her dark seductive features didn’t remind Dree of a Bortan. But she hadn’t questioned what she’d been told and Borna offered no further explanation. Besides, after last night, Borna was only a small concern. There was no way she could stay here after last night. Her stomach twisted into knots, the need to make a quick decision imperative. Everything inside her screamed to find Marc. If he had come for her, she wanted to be here for him. But would Marc of Torin drive out to Kopah-Torl just to find her? Dree leaned against the side of the building, the suns making her terribly hot. She prayed in her heart that his feelings for her were as strong as those she felt for him. That he wanted her by his side, needed her with him just as badly as she craved him. Footsteps cracked along the ground, to the side of the building toward the main house. “Dree!” Borna called for her, sounding angry. “Where in all the hells are you?” Dree looked toward the men who lingered around their gliders out front of Trev and Marla’s. Several of them followed one of the servants. The gliders stood unattended. Marc would have her hide if she took off on one of his gliders. But if she went with him, she quite possibly would put him in jeopardy just as she had before. He had so much going for him, and she wouldn’t have him risking his ass because of her. Dree looked in the direction where she’d heard Borna. The woman had stopped to talk to the group of men. There were no other choices. Running wouldn’t get her far away fast enough, and the distance she needed to travel was too great anyway. She darted the opposite direction from the house, disappearing around the back of the apartments and toward the back of the house. Most of the servants were still out in the field, or inside. Few people lingered outside during the day. Coming up on the other side of the house, she edged around the front porch, delighted to find that the gliders sat unoccupied. Dree blew out a breath, realizing she was shaking from nerves. Once or twice she had moved gliders at the castle, cleaning them and then flying them to the large garage where they were stored. Never had she flown a great distance on one. Somehow knowing she took one of Marc’s gliders made her feel a bit more bonded to him. It was a strange thought, because she was stealing—plain and simple. Her heart constricted, weighing heavy in her chest. More than anything she wanted to see him, to feel his gaze on her, protective and full of compassion. She wanted to touch him, feel his strength, run her hands over those bulging muscles. Tears burned her eyes, the need for him so great it stole her breath. Her body ached for him—her soul ached for him. Forcing herself to move, she put one foot in front of the other. Before she could talk herself out of her


misdeed, she ran to the closest glider, straddled it, and stared down at the small dash, frantically trying to remember which buttons to push to start the damned thing. “This is so stupid,” she chided herself, and pushed several buttons before the thing lurched to life underneath her. She almost fell off. Gripping the handlebars, holding on for dear life, the thing took off across the field with more speed than she’d anticipated. Her stomach flip-flopped when it went airborne, the ground whizzing by underneath her in a blur. For a moment she thought she would be sick. The speed at which she flew, and the humming of the motor underneath her, made it too hard to look behind her to see if she’d been noticed, or to hear if anyone yelled at her for her departure. “You don’t even know where the fuck you are going.” The wind slapped at her bare skin, whipping her hair over her face. Looking down at the small console, she dared to let go of one of the handlebars, wiping the water that burned at her eyes. She had no clue how to lower the dome on this thing, and with no eye protection she could barely see. The glider swooped down, dangerously close to the ground. Dree screamed.Fool! You’re a fucking fool. She would get herself killed before she got captured. Loosening her grip on the other handle, the bike slowed drastically, again almost hitting the ground. One of the handlebars controlled the speed, and the other controlled the elevation. That small piece of knowledge did little to stop her thumping heart or prevent the painful lump in her stomach to stop growing. How in the hell would she land this thing? What was I thinking? The ground continued to rush by underneath her, her mind speeding with panic and desperation at the same time. Marc had been willing to leave her before, when he started the attacks against the King, now he would completely despise her. It would seem obvious to him that she had little concern for his property when he realized she had stolen from him. And to think for an insane moment she had thought it would bond her to him. All she could think about was getting away from Kopah-Torl, from her old mistress that she couldn’t say no to. And from a way of life she no longer wished to live. She hadn’t thought of how much Marc would hate her. And when she received confirmation of his hatred, she knew it would tear her in two. She should turn around, do her best to get this glider back to Kopah-Torl and to Marc, and face the consequences of her crime. And what would that accomplish? No. For once she would move forward. What was done was done. Sooner or later stealing the glider would come back on her, haunt her, and she would be forced to pay for her crime. But maybe before that happened she could do some good.


For once she could make an appearance in decent clothing, clean and presentable, and on a quality glider. She had a laser with her that she sort of knew how to use. At least she could make a show of knowing how to use it. And even if she couldn’t fight worth a damn, she had taken enough blows over the past week to know how to fall and how to duck. She was better armed and prepared to help her people than she’d been since arriving on this planet. And if any of them were still alive, she would get them out of that castle, and away from that kingdom—somehow. Her thoughts carried her over the countryside until small homes began appearing, scattered here and there, beneath her. She hadn’t been born yesterday. There were laws, regulations, on how and where a glider could be flown. But she would be damned if she knew what all of those laws were. Lengorc lay ahead though, and she would be at the town soon. Somehow, she needed to land this thing, and manage to drive it on the ground through the town. Maybe someone here could give her an update on the status of the kingdom. A dark object came at her from the side, almost hitting her. Her blurred vision, and her hair whipping around her, had made it impossible for her to notice anything until it almost hit her. Dree yanked the handlebars in a panic, sending the glider on a sideways suicide plunge, almost causing her to fall off. Shit. Shit. Shit. Again she screamed, the wretched sound tearing at her throat, the air flying past her seizing the sound, ripping it from her mouth. She couldn’t regain control. And the dark object was coming at her again. She doubted any of the gods would give a thief the time of day, but she had no choice. She was going to crash and burn and all she knew how to do was pray. Somehow in her wave of panic, she got a better look at the dark object. Borna flew alongside her. Watching in horror, the clear dome on the woman’s glider slowly raised. Borna flew close to her, too fucking close. The dome lifted and the woman extended her hand, yelling something at her that got lost in the wind. Dree shook her head. Once again she was blinded and felt her glider flip sideways. She held on to the machine underneath her with everything she had. Her fingers sliding over the handlebars as her palms grew too sweaty to hold on. Her hair slapped at her face, tangling and blinding her while the ground seemed to be speeding past the side of her. She had no idea what kept the thing airborne. And she would never know how Borna’s strong hand managed to grab her arm and pull her free of the flying contraption. “Shit. Fuck. No!” Dree clung to Borna, realizing suddenly that the glider was no longer underneath her. Nothing was underneath her. She was flying through the air, mere feet off of the ground, while a strong grip cut the circulation off in her arm. “I’m going to kick your fucking ass.” Borna’s words hissed in her ear at the same time that Dree slapped up against the other woman’s body. “Sit still before you get both of us killed.”


Dree couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Somehow she managed to situate herself on the seat with Borna behind her. She couldn’t think and she didn’t dare look up. The whoosh of the wind slowly disappeared when the clear dome moved over them, closing them into the safety of Borna’s glider. A long time seemed to pass that the two of them flew in silence. Finally Dree started combing her hair with her fingers, working to detangle it, and took a look around her. “Where are we going?” she dared to ask. “The note you left, that Marla showed me while crying,” Borna hissed, her anger quite obvious in her sneering tone, “said you couldn’t wait any longer to see if your people were still alive. You want to go to King Sorale’s fucking castle then that is where I am taking you.” Dree couldn’t turn around to look at Borna’s face. The woman’s muscular thighs had her pinned, and the way her arms grasped the handlebars, like steel braces holding her in place, she could barely move at all. “Why are you doing this?” Dree had to know. It would seem more likely that Borna would land and beat the crap out of her, or simply turn around and drop her off to face the wrath of Marc, or Marla and Trev, or all of them. “Because you can’t do it by yourself. And because I owe Marla my life and the woman was heartbroken that you would run from her.” Her last words sliced through Dree like a knife. The last person she ever wanted to hurt was Marla. Last night would never have happened if she hadn’t been so loyal to her previous owner. Dree wanted to cry. She wanted to bury herself in Borna’s chest and beg for her forgiveness. She wanted Marc of Torin’s arms around her, comforting her, and she knew that would never happen. Looking ahead of her, she fought to bury her emotions, to toughen up, to not let her confused feelings show. “I had to do this, Borna. I don’t expect you to understand.” “Good. Because I don’t.” Borna was furious. “You had nothing when you arrived at Kopah-Torl, not a fucking thing. You’ve been given the easiest of jobs, helping Marla, and your own place to live. They feed you well, gave you clothes, and this is how you repay them. I didn’t expect this out of you, Dree.” “I didn’t steal from Marla. And I didn’t mean to break her heart.” Now she had to defend her actions. Borna’s accusations were too harsh. “You don’t know how my people were living though, how they were being treated. Our home on Poltar was destroyed, our way of life stolen from us. We were homeless, deserted. And things have only gotten worse since arriving on Benox. There was no way I could continue to live at Kopah-Torl knowing the rest of them could be suffering a fate worse than death. I have to go see if any of them are still alive.” “And if they are?” Borna asked. “Then what?” “Then I have to get them out of there.” Borna didn’t say anything. Instead she swerved the glider, forcing it to lean slightly, while they made a wide curve around the houses underneath them.


“I look forward to hearing how you plan to do that,” she finally said, after they had left Lengorc behind them. Open countryside again flew by underneath them. They would be entering the kingdom soon. Dree sat straight on the glider, refusing to touch Borna anymore than necessary. The woman’s words had been cruel, slicing through her, stabbing at her heart. All of them thought her helpless, incapable of taking care of herself, good only at offering her body. Her skills in other areas might be lacking, but she would learn, damn it. She would learn how to defend herself, go from one place to the other by herself, and make her own decisions without being ridiculed for doing so. The panel in front of her beeped, a light suddenly flashing. Borna didn’t move a muscle. “What is that?” Dree studied the board, determining that it looked like someone was contacting them. “I’m not answering it.” Borna sounded like she spoke through gritted teeth. Dree didn’t dare try to turn around and look at her. “Who do you think it is?” She stared at the blinking light, the shade of red blurring the longer she looked at it. “I don’t care who it is. You want to talk to them, you fucking answer it.” Borna didn’t say anything else, and eventually the light quit blinking. Dree noticed King Sorale’s castle appear ahead of them, standing tall and regal on top of one of the larger hills in the kingdom, its magnificence on display for all who cared to look. Dree held on to the seat in front of her when Borna turned the glider hard, making the machine lean deep to the right as they circled around the kingdom. They approached the castle from the back, the smaller buildings surrounding the incredible structure coming into view the closer they got. The first thing she noticed was the streets weren’t as full of people as they had been before. Merchants didn’t line up along the front, passing the time away either waiting to unload their product, or waiting for their opportunity to sell what they had. A sinking feeling settled in Dree’s gut. An unsettling feeling that her people were either dead, or long since hauled off from their tiny corner in the castle. “Can you get me close to that back patio?” Her mouth had gone dry, fear consuming her that she would find the worst. She cleared her throat and pointed to the paved area where so many nights had passed standing around the burning trash and talking to whoever had time to stop and share the gossip. Dree watched while Borna pulled back on one of the handlebars, while twisting the other handle toward them. One way or another she would learn how to make one of these gliders work. But her landing lesson wouldn’t begin today. She swore the distance between them and the ground was swallowed up, Borna dropped in elevation so quickly. “Oh, shit.” Dree grabbed Borna’s arm without thinking while her stomach rose up to her throat. She


wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard chuckling in her ear. Borna landed the glider just as the beeping began on the panel again. Turning off the motor, she hopped off as soon as the dome lifted. “Where are these people that you must rescue?” she asked, those dark eyes glancing around her like an angry animal ready to attack anything that moved. “We had a closet where we stayed.” She pointed to the door that led toward the back pantries, and then into the kitchen. Nausea rose inside her. There was no mistaking the smell of rotting flesh. Climbing off the glider, her feet seemed numb, unable to feel the ground beneath her as she approached the area where trash was burnt. “Dear gods.” Her hand went to her mouth, the disgusting taste of bile reaching her throat as she stared in horror at the mangled bodies piled high in the hole where the fires had burned. Nothing burned there now. But the humming of insects rang in her ears. She stood frozen until Borna pushed her on. “Don’t look. I doubt we will find anything pretty here.” Her firm hand gripped Dree’s arm, feeling cold against her skin. Anger slowly welled inside her. More than likely, everyone she knew lay in that mound of death. But she had to check. She had to go inside and see for herself if anyone remained alive. She tugged on the large door, pulling it open while another door seemed to close inside her. If she had been here, she would have been dead with the rest. There was no use pretending she could have been some kind of hero. The kitchen was dark and quiet, way too quiet. The usual buzz of activity was no more. In fact, it looked as if no one had used the kitchen in a while. The counters were bare, the sinks dry. No one moved around and long shadows gave everything a morbid look. “Our room was over here.” She whispered, although she wasn’t sure why. Everything seemed completely deserted. Borna followed behind her while Dree searched the place with her eyes. Nothing appeared disturbed, just left, as if everyone who had once clamored through the area had just walked away. She pushed open the thin door to the small room that had once been her home. There was no one inside, no clue as to what had happened to them, nothing. She turned when she heard Borna leave, walking away from her as if satisfied that their mission was complete. Dree had to admit she wouldn’t know where else to look for them. She hardly knew the entire castle, and she couldn’t imagine any of them taking refuge anywhere else. Dree stopped in the doorway, panic rushing through her when she spotted the Bortan standing at the glider. Tall thick men, the silver metal embedded in their skin shining from the suns’ light, moved slowly around their only means out of here. “That doesn’t belong to you.” Borna didn’t hesitate, her comment sounding insulting.


Dree couldn’t believe it. This woman may be a warrior, and her claim to being Bortan might also be accurate. But those two men, who now looked in their direction, were almost twice her size. One of them headed toward her, his beady red eyes a gross distraction. Dree wanted to turn back into the castle and run for her life. She froze in place though when Borna fired her laser, severing the man’s arm. Blood spewed everywhere while the man screamed, an electronic vibrating sound that chilled her to her bones. Borna shot the other Bortan too, and then ran to her glider. “Get your ass over here,” she yelled. “Those aren’t the only two.” Dree ran to the glider, climbing on behind Borna. At the same time, the woman shoved a laser in her hands. “Lessons are over. You better kill them with your first shot.” Dree stared at the weapon in her hand, the cold metal weighing heavy against her skin. Loud thudding footsteps grabbed her attention at the same time Borna started the glider. “Hold on,” she yelled, and forced the glider to accelerate so fast, Dree almost fell off. “Hold it right there.” Another Bortan had appeared. “Take them down,” a fourth Bortan yelled. The glider left the ground while Dree clung to Borna, daring to look over her shoulder at the many Bortan suddenly appearing. “This isn’t going to be pretty,” Borna muttered, as the glider flew faster than Dree knew that it could. “Will we get away?” Dree didn’t see anyone taking to flight. She looked behind them at the castle, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe. Landing in the hands of the Bortan would mean a torturous death for both of them. “I doubt it.” Borna began speaking in calmer tones, and Dree realized she had signaled for help. “Requesting backup over the castle at the kingdom.” Dree studied the side of Borna’s face, her black hair streaming down around her high chiseled cheekbones. Dree still held on to her, even with the dome up, and could feel Borna’s slow, steady breathing in comparison to her own. The warmth of her firm body saturated Dree, somehow making her feel safer. Her soft ass and the roundness of her thighs pressed against Dree’s legs, while the firm concentration on her face gave the impression that there were no problems. Several beeps came from the dash, followed by several lights flashing. Dree looked over Borna’s shoulder. “What does that mean?” “We are being instructed to land.” Borna veered the glider, leaning them hard to the left while she circled around and lowered the machine toward the ground.


Dree looked around them frantically. “And you are going to land?” “Yup.” Borna’s lips pursed, while her dark eyes scanned the ground beneath them. “But why are you landing?” Dree slid her hands from Borna’s waist, turning to get a better view of the streets beneath them. There was little life in the kingdom. The area beneath them was streets and houses. But then she noticed several men exit one of the homes, looking up at them, weapons in hand. Dree ran her sweaty palms over her trousers, feeling like a trapped animal inside the small domed area. Her heart raced while a lump formed in her throat. More than anything, she didn’t want to die. “We’re landing because Marc of Torin orders us to do so, and his wrath is worse than that of the Bortan.” Borna’s words made Dree freeze. She stared down at the men who walked toward them while they moved closer to the ground. Chills rushed over her body. They were landing around Marc’s warriors, so they were safe, right? Chapter Fourteen

The ground came up hard underneath them, slapping Dree’s ass against the thinly padded seat of the glider. “Don’t say a fucking word,” Borna hissed at her as the dome slid up and then disappeared in the space behind them. She jumped off of the glider before Dree could say a word. Dree felt a bit queasy when she put her feet on the ground. At the same time the rumble of a carrier coming down the street caught her attention. Three large warriors had walked out of a house with a large yard around it, and open field behind it. They must have landed on the very edge of the kingdom. The men moved closer to both women as a Bortan exited the carrier. He smiled a silver smile while his red eyes moved to take them all in. Dressed in all black, the short sleeves of his uniform showed off powerful-looking human biceps, no surgical operation hindering the fact that this Bortan was well-built, tall, and scary as all hells. Dree took a step backwards, the hard laser in her pants pocket brushing against her leg when she moved. She attempted a swallow, but her mouth was suddenly too dry. “Sorry to bother you.” The Bortan addressed the men. “We simply come to collect this thief.” He raised a gloved hand and pointed at Borna. The men looked at her. Dree looked at all of them, remembering Borna’s threatening warning to stay quiet. She opened her mouth to speak and Borna glared at her. “What has she stolen?” One of the warriors studied Borna, his gaze traveling down her, looking anything but unimpressed.


“Her charges go back to our home world.” The Bortan seemed quite satisfied as he moved closer to Borna, extending his hand to grab her. “If this woman has committed a crime on your planet then certainly there are papers.” The guard closest to Dree spoke. His deep baritone sounded anything but friendly. “I haven’t taken anything that wasn’t mine.” Borna didn’t move out of the Bortan’s reach, but put her hands on her hips, as if daring him to touch her. She was being a fool. Dree saw now that this woman would fight to her death, even if outmatched. Maybe it was her Bortan blood, born to be a warrior. There were times though when good thinking should precede the desire to fight. “She is with me and I’ll vouch that she is no thief.” Dree spoke up in spite of Borna’s warning. Borna didn’t look at her but continued to glare at the man in front of her. He reached to take her arm and Borna finally took a step backwards. “Let us know the charges and your commander can take it up with Marc of Torin. If she has committed some offense against the Bortan, we will see to her punishment.” The warrior, almost the size of the Bortan, took Borna by the arm, pulling her behind him. “She is Bortan.” The Bortan’s metallicized tone came through when he lowered his voice. “Her charges will be handled among her own people.” The warrior who held Borna’s arm released her, but continued to look down at her. The suns caught a glimpse of red in his light brown hair. Tall and well-built, Borna appeared dwarfed next to him. “You are Bortan?” he asked her. “I can vouch for her.” Dree stepped forward standing next to Borna. She looked over toward Marc’s men. “She’s done nothing wrong.” The warrior who had stepped forward looked her over, his soft green eyes showing either compassion or pity, she couldn’t tell which. Did this man know who she was? Had Marc mentioned her to them, or had some of the other guards discussed her? Guards weren’t all that different from servants, gossiping in their idle time. “I told you to be quiet.” Borna’s look was stern when she turned on her. But Dree thought she saw a small kindling of fear in those dark eyes. Borna licked her lips, ignoring the warrior’s question, and stepped forward. “I can see nothing has changed among my people. You have nothing better to do than come after me? Don’t you have a castle to pillage, or something?” “At least you don’t deny your Bortan heritage.” The Bortan looked over Borna at the men standing close by and then reached for Borna. “Her mouth is not the only thing that is trouble. I assure you, she is a known thief.”


“No,” Dree cried out, when the Bortan took Borna by the arm and led her to the carrier. The guard nearest stepped forward keeping her from running after Borna. She turned on him. “She followed me here. She saved my life. You can’t let them just take her.” “Be grateful they were only after her, and not you.” The guard gestured for her to walk toward the home. “We’ll be happy to help you get back to wherever you were going.” “I was going to the castle.” Dree pointed at the departing carrier. The gods only knew what was in store for Borna. “I wanted to find my people. Borna tried to get me away from the Bortan when they would have seized me there. She saved my ass and this is how we reward her?” She stopped talking, her breathing coming almost in gasps making it hard to form words. Turning away from the warriors she looked at the glider Borna had flown. If only she were better at driving one of those things. Frustration soared through her, the intense feeling of being alone hitting her hard. Always there had been others to lean on, others to fight for, others to turn to. But now Dree realized she was on her own. No one would help her. No one would go after Borna. First there had been the few of them left from Poltar, now Borna. She couldn’t let all of them die simply because of her inabilities. Borna had tried to teach her to be strong, to fight for herself. Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped at them angrily. There was no time for self-pity. There wasn’t time for anything but action. “We have a transmission from Kopah-Torl.” One of the guards behind her spoke, but Dree didn’t bother to turn around. “Let them know that Borna has been taken by the Bortan.” She waved her hand in the air and then strolled over to the glider. She needed to gather the nerve to climb back on that thing. “We can’t let you leave.” The tall warrior who had spoken to the Bortan stepped closer to her. She turned to face him. “Am I a prisoner here?” Her heart pounded with her newfound nerve. Just a week ago she wouldn’t have been able to speak to someone in authority like this. His expression was relaxed when he shook his head. “The kingdom isn’t safe right now. There are looters everywhere, not to mention the Bortan.” “I have nothing worth stealing.” She clasped her hands together in front of her to keep them from shaking visibly. The man’s size alone blocked most of the suns’ rays from her. He had to be larger even than Marc Torin. “Are you Dree of Torl?” The other guard approached them, the wires from a communication device hanging from his ear down the front of his chest. When she nodded, he gestured back toward the house. “The transmission is for you.” For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. He had already mentioned the transmission came from


Kopah-Torl and Marc was there. Was he seeking her out? For a moment she thought she wouldn’t be able to move. Charges of nervous energy rushed through her with enough intensity she feared she would make a fool out of herself, babbling like a fool while asking who it was. “Okay,” she managed to stutter, putting a foot forward to walk to the house. She ended up hurrying, reality slowly gripping her that her time was limited. Borna needed her. No matter how desperately she wanted to see Marc, to touch him, hear his voice, his life wasn’t at stake. Borna’s was. Dree took the seat as instructed and adjusted the microphone to her mouth after the guard clasped it over her head. One piece pressed against her ear and the other against her lips. She stared at the monitor while the guard pushed a button. “Okay. The transmission’s open,” he told her, and walked over toward the door. She noticed he didn’t leave though. Her attention quickly focused to the screen. The lump in her throat quickly settled to her stomach when Marla’s pretty face appeared before her. “Thank God you are safe,” her previous mistress said with a heavy sigh. Dree couldn’t ignore the well of disappointment that it wasn’t Marc Torin who had wanted to speak to her. She straightened, accepting the fact that he had bigger matters to tend to other than her. Once again she told herself that she was on her own. “The Bortans took Borna.” She spoke quickly, at the same time trying to figure out some way to go after her friend. Dree took pause with that realization. Borna terrified her, yet she just thought of her as a friend. Marla frowned at the news, glancing to the side. Dree guessed Trev stood nearby. She didn’t want to talk to him, not after last night. Humiliation rushed through her. “She was told to go get you and bring you back here.” Marla ran her hand over her white hair, her pale gray eyes staring straight at her. “Why did you run, Dree? Was it because of last night?” Dree straightened. “I’m no longer a sex slave. You yourself freed me.” Marla nodded, her voice becoming quiet. “I know that, Dree. You could have said no.” And that was just it. She doubted she would ever be able to tell her previous mistress no. “It’s hard to change overnight. But I realized that after agreeing to fuck Trev for you that I had made a mistake. And I couldn’t tell you that.” Marla licked her lips, glancing down for a moment before adjusting in her chair. Dree didn’t want to think that she might have just hurt her feelings. But somehow it felt good to be honest. Strength seemed to ripple through her at her acknowledgment. “What happened, happened,” she said. “I hope that Trev enjoyed himself, but I won’t deny that today I am driven with guilt for what I’ve done.”


It surprised her when Marla smiled. “Who have you fallen in love with, Dree?” Dree looked at the screen, shocked. Heat rushed through her, her cheeks suddenly burning with embarrassment. “Fallen in love?” She barely was able to choke out the words. “Why would you say that?” “If you feel guilty then it’s because you are worried how someone might react to the knowledge of what you have done.” Dree would die if she found out Marc Torin was anywhere nearby to hear what Marla said. She glanced around the room, the guard at the door watching her with a serious expression. She swore there was a twinkle in his eye though. Returning her attention to the monitor, she readjusted her mouthpiece, and looked into the eyes of her former mistress. “I feel guilty because I have praised myself for being independent, making it to your farm on my own, and then collapsing the first time I had the opportunity to say no to having sex with a man that I didn’t want.” Her words were cross. She knew they were. Marla’s expression grew serious, her smile fading fast. “I think you are more independent than you may have realized.” She had hurt Marla. And if ever the opportunity arose, she would make it up to her. But right now, she needed to get past her regression the night before, and move forward. “Mistress.” It was still so hard for her to call her by her first name. “Marla,” she corrected herself, and took a deep breath. “What do you know about Borna? Is she a…a thief?” Marla shook her head. “Borna has a colorful past. She has shared bits and pieces of it with me in confidence. But as long as she has been with us she has worked hard and shown her trustworthiness. I would defend her credibility.” That was good enough for Dree. “The Bortan took her, accusing her of thievery. And these men here won’t do anything about it. I need to go after her.” “You can’t rescue her from the Bortan.” Marla spoke the simple truth, as much as she hated hearing it. “And I swear to all of the gods that I will whip your ass if you so much as try.” Marc Torin’s voice boomed throughout the room. Dree about jumped out of her seat, her heart exploding in her chest while the communication wires tangled around her face. She turned quickly, struggling to stand, but then having to sit down when the wires strained against her. “What is it?” she heard Marla ask in her ear. Dree didn’t turn around to face the monitor though. She couldn’t look away from the tall man who entered the room and didn’t stop until he stood over her. Soft brown curls drifted around Marc’s face while he looked down at her. His blue eyes burned with a passion that matched the heat she felt inside of her. His broad shoulders, covered by the long traveling cape he wore, blocked her view of anyone else. She let her gaze travel down his body, the flushed heat she’d experienced moments before smoldering


into something much more sensual. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him. More than anything she wanted to stand, and then collapse against that hard body. But she couldn’t move, could barely breathe. Suddenly everything around her was Marc Torin. He stood over her, so powerful, so dominating, and she was barely able to manage a thought. “Dree. Tell me you are okay.” The concern in Marla’s voice helped shake the spell Marc suddenly had over her. Dree turned slowly away from the massive man who stood way too close to her for her to think straight. Her pussy began pulsating with demanding need while she worked to gather her thoughts. “I’m fine,” she managed to say. “I’ll stay in touch with you. I promise.” “Borna has a way of getting herself out of strange predicaments,” Marla added quickly. “Contact me soon.” Dree nodded and then pulled the headset from her head. Marc reached over her and pushed a button, causing the screen to go blank. “I ought to bend you over my knee right now for taking off on me like you did,” he whispered, turning to look her in the face before he straightened. When he did, he pulled Dree up with him. “Leave us,” he told the guards, not bothering to look behind him. Dree couldn’t see who else was in the room, but she heard the door close, and knew suddenly she was alone with Marc Torin. “You left me,” she started to say, but her words were devoured by his mouth. Marc crushed her to him, his powerful arms wrapping around her, stealing her breath, and nearly lifting her from the ground. His lips burned against hers, moist heat rushing through her brain, attacking her senses. Dree clung to him, holding on to his cloak while she leaned back, arching into him and deepening their kiss. Never had she experienced such power, such raw and untamed domination from just a kiss. Marc commanded her senses, and took from her without questions. His demands were clear, his intentions driven with an intensity that would not be denied. Everything inside her burned alive while his tongue dove deep inside her mouth, claiming her, fucking her just as his cock would her pussy. Her breasts smashed against his rock-hard chest while her cunt grew wet, the pulsating turning into a fierce throbbing as the ache in her grew, bordering on pain. Her lips tingled when he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open, as she took a minute to focus. His face was so close to hers, looking down at her with orbs so blue she wanted to drown in them. “You left me, my dear,” he whispered, adjusting her in his arms and rubbing his gloved fingers across her cheek. “It will not happen again.” Marc offered her no time to respond. He took her with a savage kiss, branding her, restating his claim.


Something about the smoothness of his gloves, trailing paths across her skin, sent chills through her body. Anticipation ran through her, pain throbbing from deep inside her, wanting nothing more than to beg him to fuck her. And his words. What did he mean by them? What she wouldn’t give for hours with this man. Just the two of them. She wanted to know his thoughts, what made him tick, and every inch of his body. Yes. The desire to devour everything he could give her almost consumed her. Taking a step backward, the chair behind her pressing against the back of her legs, she instantly mourned his body no longer being pressed against hers. But she had to clear her head of him—just for a minute. He took her hair in his gloved hand, twisting it, pulling it until she was forced to look up at him. “Borna needs help.” She said the first thing that came to mind, knowing her words confused him by his expression. The lust-filled cloud lifted from those incredible blue eyes while slight lines of confusion creased his forehead. “And who is this Borna?” “She worked at Kopah-Torl and came after me when I left there. The Bortan took her right before you got here.” Before he could speak, tell her there was nothing she could do about it, she pulled away from him, putting the chair between him. He had to see how important this was. “Marc. She worked with me, tried to teach me to fight, to shoot, to defend myself. I owe her my help. The Bortan will kill her.” Something darkened in his expression. She sensed disapproval and straightened, willing herself to be strong in front of this powerful man. His devastating good looks almost brought her to her knees, but she wouldn’t be controlled by her body. Lust for him would only keep her where she’d been for years. And if all he wanted from her was her body, it would be best to know that now. Because she had a mind too, one she planned to use. Marc turned, opening the door. “Where did the Bortan take the woman who was here?” he asked, his voice calm. She heard instant movement, shuffling coming from the outer room, although she couldn’t see past his massive frame. Minutes passed and Dree didn’t dare think about what their response might be. Images of them torturing Borna slowly while she screamed for mercy, or of her fighting with everything she had until she took her last breath, plagued her to the point where she could barely move. “We’ve a position on the carrier that left here,” one of the men beyond Marc finally spoke up. “It’s parked on one of the roads not too far from here.” Dree took a step toward Marc. “Why would it just be parked?” He didn’t turn around to acknowledge her. “Have someone check it out.” Dree touched the long cloak that covered his backside, feeling the warmth from him travel through her fingers. Marc turned slowly, looking down at her, his expression soft, but guarded. “And this is what you did while at this farm? You learned to fight?” he asked her, but she knew he wanted every detail.


Her heart constricted, worry cloaking her as to how he would react from the knowledge that she’d surrendered to her old mistress, obliged when asked for the sexual favor. The room they were in suddenly seemed too small, his presence too overwhelming. She didn’t know his temper, but wasn’t ready to find out under such close quarters. “They took me in as a servant,” she told him, not able to look up at his face. She focused on the edge of his collar, the soft chest hair that peeked out over the material taunting her. “Borna worked with me in the evenings.” He didn’t say anything. Guilt swam around her. Never before had having sex with another man affected her like this. She didn’t want to hurt Marc, or let him see her weakness when it came to her previous mistress. She wanted to be strong, and more than anything, she wanted him to see her that way. The outer door to the house opened, shuffling behind him a welcome distraction. “We’ve got an occurrence.” Trent Dar spoke from behind them. Her breath got caught in her throat. The Gren was the last person she’d expected to ever hear again. But thank the gods he was alive. Oh shit. She had run from Marc for nothing. Well, it would be the last time. Chapter Fifteen

Something had happened to Dree while she was at Kopah-Torl. Marc knew she held back information from him and had a feeling it wasn’t pleasant. For the moment, he would be satisfied knowing she was safe, and back by his side. He didn’t have time to focus on why that mattered so much to him. But something about this small woman with the shiny white hair and touching gray eyes reached a part of him he hadn’t even known he had. He walked into the main room of the house they had taken over as a small headquarters on the outskirts of the kingdom. “Fill me in,” he told the Gren, aware that Dree moved alongside him. “A small troop of Bortan has landed in a shuttle just north of Torin.” Trent Dar shoved his long cloak over his shoulders, moving over to the cooler where he helped himself to a drink. “The ships are barely in the outer atmosphere so the only conclusion at the moment is that somehow they have another vessel that we haven’t tracked.” He didn’t have to say a word to his man at the communication board. Marc looked down at the monitor in front of his officer, while the screen showing the orbiting satellites appeared. “We’ve got a hold on three ships,” the officer told him. Marc saw the small bleeps that showed him that the ships were indeed moving close to being in orbit. Anger brewed through him. He would not lose Benox because King Sorale was fool enough to invite


these surgically altered assholes to his planet. “We need to secure the kingdom,” Trent said. The Gren stood looking outside the window by the door. “It’s time to take this place down.” “Agreed.” Marc looked down at Dree, who seemed focused on the monitor showing the satellites and incoming ships. Things would get ugly and he needed to find a place where she would be secure and protected. “Bring in another ten thousand men. Find the King and bring him to me. Do whatever it takes to bring the kingdom under my control.” Dree glanced his way, her gray eyes deep with worry. He looked forward to the day when he could spend his time leisurely learning every inch of her. The soft silky feel of her hair, the smooth texture of her unmarked skin, her curves, soft breasts, and her sweet erotic taste—all of it. He wanted to know her better than he knew himself. The door opened again and several more of his men entered. “Cover every inch of the castle.” He needed to get to work, get this nasty little mess the King had created under control. “I want it secured and I don’t want a Bortan in this kingdom anywhere by nightfall.” “Understood.” One of the men turned, leaving the room while the other walked over to the computers. Discussion followed while they determined what roads were still open, where the Bortan could travel, and how much air security was needed. Dree had moved to the side, still watching the officer who monitored off-planet travel. At one point, she pointed to something, her voice a soft whisper as she asked a question. The officer, a young pup who knew his work, smiled up at her, graciously explaining what she wanted to know. A dark wave of possessiveness rushed through Marc. His insides tightened, the feeling wrenching at his heart.Mine. There had never been another woman that he would fight for, make sure no other would touch. But something about Dree brought out the predator in him, the urge to ensure that everyone, including her, knew she belonged to him. Gritting his teeth, he focused on the discussion around him, authorizing transport of troops while they determined the best place to station the men and women who would secure the large amount of land King Sorale ruled. His communication device beeped and he pulled it from his shirt pocket and secured it to his ear. “Go ahead,” he said, activating the line. “I’m out here at that carrier that took off with that woman,” the warrior told him who had gone to check out the whereabouts of Borna. “The thing appears to be abandoned.” “No sight of the woman?” Again he focused on Dree who now leaned over the officer and ran her fingers over the monitor. She was trying to understand something and he would love to know what it was. As if she sensed that he watched her, she looked up at him, a wavy strand of hair drifting over her face. She brushed it to the side, her soft gray eyes checking him out. Even with all of his warriors surrounding him in the small quarters, heat rushed through him from that sensual look she gave him. What he wouldn’t do for just a


small amount of time to bury himself inside her. “No sight of anyone, but we do have one dead Bortan here.” The man’s words brought him back to the conversation. “How did he die?” he asked, keeping his focus on Dree. The snug farmer’s clothing she wore accentuated the firm curve of her hips. He noticed the strain on the button between her breasts and imagined undoing it with his teeth. The first chance he got he was going to fuck her silly. “Laser wound to the neck, severed right through. I didn’t notice him at first. He’s got so many implants that there wasn’t as much blood.” Which was a typical Bortan. “One of those implants could be a self-destruct mechanism, not to mention a locating device so they can record him as dead without having to witness the body.” It made Marc sick how the Bortan race had turned themselves into a bunch of machines. There was little wonder why they showed such little value for life on other planets when they barely valued their own lives. “Understood.” The guard signed off, and Marc guessed he would destroy the Bortan before the body destroyed everything around it when it blew up. Dree still watched him, chewing her lower lip. The act made his cock stir to life, the urge to take her off somewhere alone tempting him. He turned to where the Gren stood over one of the control panels. “Once we have the castle secure, I will return to Torin,” he told him. Trent Dar nodded. “Arrange your party if you like, we’ve got enough men to take over the kingdom at this point. Our computers show we outnumber the Bortan here by a good margin.” “You just want me out of here so you can get all the credit for taking down the King.” Marc smiled, knowing neither one of them would miss out on the action about to take place. “We got an explosion on the upper levels of one of the towers at the castle.” His officer sounded excited, quickly pushing buttons in front of him on the panel. Marc felt the adrenaline pump through everyone in the room. The excitement of battle, the anticipation of victory, putting things right. It pumped through everyone’s blood, the energy sparking in the air around them. His people didn’t crave battle. They weren’t blood-hungry. But all of them knew that if King Sorale remained alive and leader of the kingdom, the Bortan would take over. And now the moment had arrived. Everyone in the room glowed with expressions showing their eagerness to see the King brought in and the Bortan kept away. “Let’s go.” Marc pulled his cape over his shoulders, gesturing to the Gren. Looking over at Dree, her soft gray eyes wide while she nibbled away at her lower lip. She looked so


soft, so small and fragile. There wasn’t an ounce of warrior blood in her. Without thought he reached for her, pulling her to the side. “This won’t take long. You will be safe here.” He searched her face, needing to know she wouldn’t run from him again. “If you leave here, I can’t ensure your protection.” Dree instantly shook her head. He grabbed her shoulders, her soft silvery-white hair contrasting with his black gloves. “Don’t leave me again.” The sound of panic didn’t exist in her quiet words. But he sensed it consuming her, knew she didn’t completely trust him to protect her. That ate at him like a nasty acid, tearing through his insides. “Trust me, Dree.” If she would just do that, all would be fine. He couldn’t worry about her and focus on the matters at hand. And ever since he’d met her, all he could think about was her. She had branded him, sifted through his senses, making herself one with him. He needed her assurance that she would stay put until he returned. “You told me I wouldn’t leave your side again. I’m going with you.” Her determination surprised him. Dree’s shoulders stiffened underneath his grasp. The curve of her breasts pressed against her shirt, her nipples puckering while something coursed through her blood that he didn’t quite understand. “Like hell you are. This is war, Dree. You will do as you are told, and stay put.” He watched her jaw set in determination, her soft gray eyes darkening to a shade he hadn’t seen before. Passion ran through her. It sizzled through his gloves. His insides filled with it, consuming him, setting him on fire. He would know before he left this room that she would stay put. Regardless of her determination, of whatever craving she might have to share in the excitement, her safety was in his hands. And he wouldn’t relinquish it to her foolishness. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered. The room spun with activity around them, but he saw only her. Her willfulness worried him, but he knew this was where she needed to stay. Pulling her into his arms, feeling her soft warmth against him, he vowed to take care of matters so that he could enjoy fucking her for hours. The need to be alone with her, take her home to Torin, offer a life to her that she’d never had before filled his blood with the drive needed to set things right in the kingdom. This land would be secure under his leadership, the Bortan exiled, and they would go home. “Keep her safe,” he told his communication officer while looking over her head. The man nodded solemnly. Dree pulled away from him, folding her arms over her chest and then turning away from him. Better for her to be mad and safe, than put in the line of fire. He nodded to Trent Dar and then followed him out the door to the gliders.


Leaving Dree behind left a knot in his gut that he didn’t like. The look of rejection wasn’t missed in her pretty gray eyes, the pouty twist of her lips. Her entire body had stiffened when he turned and left. Thoughts of returning to her, seducing her until she softened in his arms, made him even more determined to do what he had to do and then hurry to return to her. He wanted her small hands gliding up his chest, her sweet body pressed against him, willing him to take her, enjoy that hot little body of hers. And he would too. His cock ached to pound that tight little cunt of hers. The second he was airborne, he saw the smoke drifting into the air. Within minutes of flying, the outline of the castle appeared and he saw that the far side of it billowed with smoke. “We’re going in,” he told Trent Dar through the mouthpiece he had attached to his head. The Gren nodded, glancing over at him through the dome of his glider. Those penetrating black eyes showed his determination. He ached for this moment as much as Marc did. They would be there when the King was found, brought to his knees, destroyed once and for all so that Benox could be saved. “I want the leader of the Bortan found as well,” Marc told him. “We need assurance those fucking bastards will back off. I don’t want them crawling around this planet like disgusting rodents.” “We’ll send a transmission to them now. Make sure they are aware we are taking the kingdom. We’ll tell them they are next if they don’t back down.” The Gren moved his gloved hands over the control panel on his glider. Marc knew he contacted the warriors who would carry out the task. Trent Dar seldom waited for confirmation from Marc before acting. No other man would get away with such liberties. But the Gren wouldn’t be his number one if he couldn’t act on his own, knowing what Marc approved of and what he would not allow. His men were posted all around the castle. Curious onlookers hung out in the streets, by their homes. It would take time reestablishing the government in the kingdom after the King’s death. The House of Torin would claim the land, installing its government. Landing out front, he led the way toward the castle with Trent Dar and a group of his men in tow. “The Bortan still swarm through the place,” one of his guards told him once they entered the castle. “How long until we have the place secured?” Already he led the way through the great courtyard where not so long ago beautifully adorned people casually strolled. Now the courtyard stood empty, a gray hue filled the area while dust settled from explosions down the long dark halls. Impending death weighed heavy around him, the smell of burnt flesh making his stomach turn. Once an erotic façade, the castle now showed its true colors, a death trap, stench and injustice painted clearly around him. Their boots echoed in a rhythmic beat as the group of them headed down the hallway toward the part of the castle that had exploded. More of his men met them in one of the inner courtyards. The place was a maze of battle zones. Echoed explosions vibrated the walls while they moved into thicker smoke with more debris on the once spotless floor. “It’s hard to say at the moment,” the guard fell into stride next to Marc while speaking. “There are


breakouts going on everywhere. The Bortan have set up quite a few stations throughout the castle.” “I want them out. All of them.” He could smell their stench in here, the metallic blood an atrocious reminder of the warped civilization the Bortan had become. “Don’t bother with prisoners.” The guard nodded, falling to the side to return to his post. They reached the next hallway when laser fire broke out. “Take cover, men,” Marc said over his shoulder, and hunched down as he pulled his laser, moving forward into the smoke filled hallway. There were people running ahead of him, but it was impossible to tell who were Bortan and who were his men. Entering into the hallway going the other way, several Bortan came into view, the silver embedded in their skin apparent even through the thick haze of smoke. Sweat broke out in beads across Marc’s forehead. He fired, his muscles tense while running forward, taking out the Bortan ahead of him. The Gren was next to him, his men behind him, their boots making a clamoring sound that echoed through his brain. Bortan suddenly seemed to be everywhere. “Watch your back,” someone yelled. He pressed himself against the wall, firing in front while his men covered the rear. Screams filled the air while his men fell, along with the Bortan. “Let’s go,” Trent Dar yelled, lunging forward while plaster fell from the ceiling around them. An explosion sounded at the same time they reached the end of the hallway. Smoke billowed out in front of them, making it hard to tell how large the courtyard was that they had just entered. Marc noticed a woman, managing a weapon almost the length of her, roll onto the floor, and fire again toward the other end of the courtyard. The weapon had a mighty kick to it, sending her sliding across the floor. At the same time, bloodcurdling screams echoed through the other end of the courtyard. “That is a Bortan weapon,” Trent Dar whispered, coming up alongside Marc. “And she is firing at the Bortan?” Marc could only tell that she didn’t wear a Torin uniform. The woman wasn’t one of his warriors. “Who is she?” He watched her recover the weapon, moving quickly, lifting the thing with more ease than he would have guessed a person of her size capable. Slowly the smoke at the other end of the courtyard settled, the screams subsided, and moaning and dead bodies lay in piles at the entrance of another hallway. Marc headed toward the woman, who walked toward the hallway. “You are on top of the main headquarters of the Bortan,” his communication officer said into his ear. Marc got close enough to the woman to see long strands of black hair falling out of a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore the same type of farmer’s outfit that Dree had on. Her figure was fuller than Dree’s.


She was larger and a bit heavier, with a larger muscle tone. And obviously with the skill of a seasoned warrior. She moved ahead of Marc without hesitation, heading straight into the lair of the Bortan. “Acknowledged.” He’d almost reached the woman, and she slowed, looking over her shoulder at him when he spoke. “Scan the area. I want to know how many are still alive.” Dark eyes studied him. He moved his mouthpiece to the side, stopping next to the woman while glancing toward the hallway. The smoke burned his eyes and the stench of death was repulsive. But as he stood in front of the woman, noting something akin to pride in her expression, he found his thoughts drifting toward Dree. “Well done, soldier,” he said to her. She didn’t respond, her expression not changing while she glanced from him to the men around him. “Where did you get the Bortan weapon?” the Gren asked her. She adjusted the long blaster, resting it over her shoulder. “I stole it,” she told him without ceremony. Something dark and haunting passed over her eyes, a challenge seeming to cross her expression while she pursed her full, pouty lips, waiting for him to ask her something else. Marc’s communication device beeped quietly in his ear, preparing the line for an incoming message. “Go ahead,” he said, adjusting the mouthpiece. “There are a handful of Bortan inside one of the chambers due north of you. They have a lot of equipment in there, computers is my guess.” The officer hesitated as if trying not to speculate. Marc always made it clear to his warriors that he only accepted facts. “Do you think that is where they are communicating with the ships?” he asked, breaking his own rule as he asked for an opinion that couldn’t be based on fact. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Marc almost smiled. His men were well-trained. “We’re headed in.” He closed the transmission, gesturing with his hand at the same time for his men to follow him. “I want the leader alive, if possible,” he said to Trent Dar. The Gren nodded. “We’ll have him contact their ships,” he said, finishing Marc’s thoughts for him. The woman turned, continuing to walk ahead of him, leading the way toward the dead Bortan. Marc reached out, touching her shoulder. She turned quickly, almost jumping clear of him in reaction to his touch. Those dark eyes pierced through him. “You aren’t one of my warriors.” He made it a statement more than a question.


“No.” The woman looked away from him, toward the hallway, and then returned her dark gaze in his direction. “But I am going in there. With or without you, I will ensure they are all dead.” He believed her. She shouldered that weapon as if it was light as a feather, her expression showing the fire burning through her, strength and determination apparent in her stance. “I appreciate your determination. But I am in charge here.” He wouldn’t insult her. He made his words calm and soothing. She wasn’t pleased by what he said, though. Something changed in her expression, something dangerous that made her appear she would be a worthy opponent in any match. And it was more than her fighting power. Her beauty was more than a distraction. Full curves in plain clothes that fit snug to her showing off shapely hips and full, ripe breasts. If that long black hair was unwrapped he had a feeling it would fall to her ass, the glossy black texture of it enough to make a man imagine it drifting over his body while she rode him hard and fast. Everything about her looked very fuckable, and he had a feeling she knew that, and used her body as a weapon. “You are Marc of Torin.” The way she slowly drawled out his name made him wonder if she viewed in him reverence or was insulting him. “Yes. And you will be properly awarded for your efforts here once we have the castle secure.” He walked forward, letting her know that regardless of her beauty he wasn’t affected. They had a job to do. There wasn’t time to make sure the woman didn’t follow them. He led the way into the hallway, stepping over the dead, stopping at the first door while the Gren stepped around him. He stared into the dark eyes across from him, Trent Dar ready to pounce on his command. Nodding once, the two of them sprang at the door. Marc kicked it open and they entered at once, lasers ready to fire. The room was empty. Gesturing for his men to follow, they moved to the next door, and did the same thing. Again it was empty. Where the fuck were they? There were three more doors down the length of the hallway. Bortan lay behind one of them, waiting for them, anticipating their arrival. Marc’s muscles were balled tight with anticipation, the urge to take them down rushing through him, overpowering him with adrenaline. The slightest sound would make him jump, ready to fire. Only years of serious training kept him at bay, made him think before he acted. And that was what saved the fool woman’s life when somehow she appeared at the other end of the hallway, her large weapon aimed directly at him. He didn’t move but stared at her, noting her almost demonic expression while her shiny black hair bordered her face, her dark eyes watching him like the predator would its prey. She gestured with the weapon, telling him without speaking to go to the next door. He didn’t understand why a woman dressed as a farmer carried the skills of a warrior, but he would worry about that later. He would also address her insubordination later.


Glancing over at Trent Dar, the man already had his eyes locked on the next door, his laser aimed, ready to fire on command. Marc turned his attention to the door, the solid wooden frame giving no indication what might be on the other side. One of his men stepped forward, testing the doorknob and finding it locked. “Stand back,” Marc said quietly, and aimed at the ornate knob. The quiet laser penetrated through it, the knob disappearing and leaving a hole where it had been. They moved quickly, entering the room. A handful of Bortan opened fire immediately. One of his men next to him screamed, falling to his death, almost knocking Marc over. Marc fired back, taking down the first two that he laid eyes on. The remaining three stepped backward, the metal in their body clinking as they moved away cautiously from an elaborate computer setup. “Disarm them.” Marc moved to the control panel, studying the foreign equipment. “Borna, you betray your people.” The metallic voice spoke with disgust. Marc glanced quickly at the Bortan who was being searched by his own men while he spoke with disdain. Just as quickly, he looked back to his other side as the woman moved in next to him to check out the equipment. She ignored the Bortan. Pointing to the control panel, she moved her fingers over several buttons. “They are monitoring their ships’ activities from here,” she told him. “I would say you can easily open a channel and communicate with them.” Marc was stunned. The Bortan had called her Borna. She wore the same style clothing as Dree. And Dree had been frantic that a woman called Borna be found. This was the woman who had been taken by the Bortan, but who’d obviously escaped from them, and managed to lift a few of their weapons as well. And the Bortan who stood nearby, now under arrest by his own men, just told her that she betrayed her own people. “Who are you?” he asked, staring down at the thick black hair that shadowed most of her face. “She is Borna, once a member of the high council, leader of the fifth armies on Bort.” The Bortan stood tall while Marc’s men held their lasers on him, his fiery red eyes glaring at the woman. “She is a thief, stealing the most coveted treasure of the leader of Bort.” Marc turned, a sense of warning streaming through him, looking from the Bortan to the woman who he had no doubts was the woman Dree had described to him. “You are a Bortan?” he asked her. Elaborate tattoos were barely visible under her plain clothing. He hadn’t paid much attention to them until now. The ink pattern was different from any he’d seen in Torin, or in the kingdom. But from what he could tell by her appearance, she had no altered surgery. Every bit of her appeared real and natural. “I am,” she answered like a warrior, her expression giving no indication if she despised her heritage or not.


“And what did you steal?” he asked her. “His unborn child. And then I killed it.” And then before anyone could stop her, she pulled her laser, and killed the remaining Bortan in the room. Chapter Sixteen

“Damn it to all the hells, woman.” Marc turned on her, grabbing her laser. It pointed toward the ceiling while she resisted him. Her strength impressed him. Dark eyes shot daggers at him though. He twisted her wrist until she let go. Then taking the large Bortan weapon from her as well, he handed them to one of his men. “If I’d wanted him dead, he would have been that way already,” he told her. “I wanted him dead.” The bitterness dripped from her words; an anger embedded so deep it had sent her on a mission of destruction, after her own people. Marc nodded, knowing there was more to the truth. He turned to one of his men. “See if you can contact their ships,” he ordered, pointing to the computer in front of him. “I can do it.” Borna moved forward, ignoring Marc as she stood next to his officer. Marc took her arm, feeling the solid muscles ripple under his touch while he pulled her back. She turned on him, like a wild animal ready to strike, her black hair streaming around her face while dark eyes pinned him with a look to kill. Even outraged, her beauty would distract a man to madness if he allowed it. Her full lips, with her mouth parted just enough to allow her heavy panting to cause her breasts to stretch the material over them, would be all it would take to give her that moment’s advantage. He took his time though, continuing to pull her toward him, almost lifting her off the ground. Her breath burned hot against him, her breasts pressing into him when he lifted her so that they almost looked at each other eye to eye. Borna was everything Dree wasn’t. A hardened warrior, disguised as a farmer for some reason. Dark and sultry, her sexual skills were part of her fighting power. And he had a feeling she could be deadly. Nothing about her was soft, not her attitude, or her body. Dree was everything that Borna wasn’t, and Borna did nothing for him. “You will do as you are told, or I will have you shackled. Any questions?” He didn’t look away from those dark brazen eyes. Not one ounce of fear seeped through her. She didn’t even nod or shake her head. Marc dropped her, believing that he’d made his point clear. Borna straightened her shirt, and he noticed that not even her hands shook. She wasn’t afraid of him. But she did stand down, not saying a word or making any attempt to move closer to the computer. “I think we can open communication here.” The officer at the console pushed a few buttons.


An explosion rippled from behind them, the impact from it shaking the floor. “The dead Bortans.” Trent Dar moved toward the door. “They are all going to explode.” Borna spoke up too. “Can we get this computer out of here?” Marc hurried around the console, looking to see how it was patched in at the back. Another explosion rippled through the castle, this one further away and more muffled. “I want everyone out of the castle.” They didn’t have a lot of time. Marc started dismantling the computer. “This entire structure will go with the amount of dead Bortan in here.” This time when Borna leapt forward to help tear down the computer, he didn’t stop her. She moved over it as if it were her own, handing over the equipment to his men and then going after the next piece. Hallways started to collapse as they hurried out of the room. “How many warriors are still inside?” Marc yelled over falling debris while they covered their heads and ran toward the exit. “I don’t have an official count.” Trent Dar answered. Marc looked around to see his communication officer was no longer with them. Part of a wall collapsed just as they reached the first courtyard, but he didn’t look behind him to see who made it and who didn’t. Dead Bortan blew up all around them, the metal from their bodies flying, proving just as deadly as the falling structure around them. “This way.” He gestured for everyone around him to follow and hurried to the large open windows at the end of the huge courtyard. It would be a fool’s mission to try and leave the way they had entered. The Gren yelled into his communication device. “Have a glider at the west wing, yes. Fly in through the courtyard window.” A glider flew over their heads just as they reached the window. It turned around, landing while Marc hurried with the equipment, his men huddling around the glider as well. Within a minute they had the computer loaded. “Get out of here now.” Marc slapped the woman on the back, while she gunned the glider to life. “Head back to Torin with this. I’ll ensure that you have backup.” She nodded while the dome covered her and then was gone in the next second. “Let’s get out of here.” He didn’t need to encourage his men. Explosions seem to ripple everywhere around them. It became harder to see but he needed to make sure everyone was over the top of the large window ledge before climbing over himself.


There was almost an eight-foot drop to the ground, and he hit it hard. But there was no time to catch his breath. Breaking into a run, he sprinted across the ground, out of the heavy smoke and into daylight. The suns blinded him almost immediately. But something caught his eye, and he stopped running, holding his hand over his eyes while he squinted at Borna. The woman raced across the grounds in the opposite direction as the rest of them. Black hair tumbled around her while she flew gracefully away from them. Something didn’t sit right with her exodus though, and in the next minute he realized what it was. The woman tumbled into another woman, tackling her, the two of them rolling to the ground and then tumbling down the hill. Something compelled him and he raced after her. At the top of the hill, Marc froze. Borna moved to her feet quickly, pulling the woman she’d tackled to her feet as well. Shaking her, obviously giving her a severe reprimand, the woman appeared defenseless under Borna’s grasp. Marc focused on the shiny white hair that streamed free around the woman. That and her creamy white skin contrasted deeply against the darker Borna. The woman looked toward him, over Borna’s head, up the hill where he stood. Those pale gray eyes widened and her mouth opened, as if to yell his name. But in the next instant Borna took off running, her grip hard on Dree as she dragged her along with her. Marc pulled his mouthpiece down so that he could speak. “Round up all warriors and give me a count of the dead. Verify that all Bortan are dead, and then get the hell out of here. I will catch up with you shortly.” And find that blasted king, he wanted to add. But his men would find him. Scum like that couldn’t stay hidden forever. He terminated the transmission before he could be questioned, and then raced down the hill after the two women. The two of them moved quickly but neither were a match for his long-legged sprint. Borna ran furiously down the street, dragging Dree with her, away from the castle while explosions reverberated behind them. They reached a nearby house, already looted with windows broken out either by locals or the Bortan. The structure was a mere shell, but solid protection against the potential fallout from the castle. He sucked in dust-filled air, his eyes burning while the stench around him turned his stomach. Slowing outside the house, he paused before reaching the door, the two women’s voices drifting toward him. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?” Borna sounded harsh, furious, her tone that of a leader issuing a severe reprimand. “I will not be put in a room and told not to move while death occurs around me.” Dree’s quick response was impressive. It wasn’t Marc’s nature to stand in the shadows. He never had a problem with making his presence


known. Something compelled him though. A friendship had spawned between these two women, if friendship was the accurate term. The best way to explore it, to determine the connection these two had, was to stay put, hear out what was said. “So you join death instead?” Borna hissed. He imagined Dree backing down from such harshness. “You have no warrior skills. One week of lessons does not make you a fighter,” she continued with her reprimand. “Enough, Borna.” Dree took on a new tone. This was not the voice of a slave. “I can not kill like you can. There is no point bringing it up. But I will not stand by and worry when there might be something I can do.” “And what exactly did you think you could do?” Borna’s tone didn’t soften. “It was enough that I had to deal with Marc of Torin. Taking out the Bortan would have been easier without him present. But worrying about you shouldn’t have to be on my list.” “Then don’t worry about me.” Dree moved to the door, and then stopped in her tracks when she saw him. “Don’t walk away from me.” Borna had grabbed her, pulling her backwards, without noticing Marc standing there. Dree turned around, her long white hair floating around her with a mystical glow in the heavy shadows. “Borna.” Her tone grew very quiet, an odd motherly tone to it. “I do not belong to you.” “I can take care of you.” Borna also lowered her voice. Marc made his presence known in time to see Borna stroke Dree’s cheek with the side of her hand. Something stirred inside of him. An emotion he didn’t want to name surfaced. Dark. Determined. Possessive. Those dark eyes met his, thick black hair flowing down over her breasts. Borna was stunning, captivating, her appearance wild and untamed. And his predator instinct went into full mode. Suddenly she was the enemy. Reaching for Dree, his heart swelled when she went to him, a look of pure joy brushing across her face when she looked up at him. “I know you told me to stay put,” she began. But he cut her off. “Let’s go.” He held Dree close to him but kept his gaze locked on Borna. An unspoken message passed between them. In a mere moment, with a simple possessive action, he hoped he made it quite clear that Dree belonged to him. Borna hesitated when they turned to the door, but he would be damned if he would let the woman out of


his sight. She was a mystery to him, and he didn’t like mysteries. “You’re coming too.” He didn’t reach for her. There was no reason that he saw to treat this seasoned warrior any different than he would treat one of his own. “You have information for me, soldier. Let’s go.” He sent orders for a carrier to pick them up, and they didn’t move far through the town before one arrived. “The kingdom is under our control,” his man told him the second he relinquished the carrier. “We wait for your word to return to Torin.” Several gliders had accompanied the carrier, offering them armed escort through town until they reached the rest of his warriors. Orders were put out quickly to send as many home as he could afford. By late afternoon, he had warriors posted throughout the town, searching for any remaining Bortan, and ensuring homes wouldn’t be ransacked. No more lives would be lost if he could help it. Pulling Dree to the side, he needed just a few minutes with her, the chance to hold her and feel her warmth pressed against him. She stood to the side of the room, watching with her large gray eyes while people worked around her. Borna had taken a seat alongside one of the consoles, appearing neither bored nor agitated. Her expression was blank, although he doubted she missed a thing going on around her. But Dree watched with wide eyes, soaking in everything around her with interest. Already he saw she was a quick learner. Running his fingers down her smooth creamy skin, her warmth immediately traveled through him, sizzling him with a craving to devour her, drink her juices until he could take no more. “Come with me,” he whispered into her hair, needing just a moment alone with her, but wishing for days to savor every inch of that luscious body. Dree looked up at him, long thick lashes fluttering over soft gray eyes. She ran her fingers alongside her face, brushing strands of hair to the side. His cock hardened, a rush of need so potent it took over his body with a fiery vengeance. “Where are we going?” she asked, the softness of her voice enticing. Leading her out of the house, to the side of the building shaded from the suns, he pulled her into his arms. “We’re headed to Torin soon,” he told her, needing to hear that she wanted to go with him. “I can’t wait to see your home.” She spread her fingers across his chest, leaning into him. Her smile lit up his heart, emotions drifting through him too new to comprehend. There was so much to discuss with her. Taking her to Torin meant she would be in the public eye, seen by his side, viewed and judged by all of his people. If he didn’t take her for his life mate, all would decide she was his whore, or worse yet, a sex slave he had purchased at the kingdom. That wasn’t what he wanted for Dree. And he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that reputation either. But for the moment, in the precious time they had right now, all he wanted to do was taste her. Her eyelids fluttered while she sucked in a breath and raised her mouth to his. So smooth. So sweet. Her lips were full and moist as he tugged first at her top lip, and then nibbled on the bottom one.


“Marc.” She said his name on a breath, a deep sigh filled with the longing he felt. Wrapping his arms around her, he crushed her to him, knowing there wasn’t time for much but unable to be gentle. She collapsed against him, her full breasts sweet torture as they pressed through the material. Her hardened nipples were more than a distraction, sending electric charges straight through him where they stabbed into his chest. He grabbed her ass, lifting her, thrusting his rock-hard cock against her. “This is for you, baby,” he told her, biting at her mouth, tracing a path of moisture from her cheek to her ear. “I need to fuck you so bad.” “Yes. Please make it soon.” Her willingness made him insane. Her hair smelled so good, a mixture of something erotic, unique to Dree. The soft strands brushed against the side of his face, smooth and silky, teasing his skin causing a fever to burn through him. He could drown in her, basking in the softness of her skin, the gentle way she ran her fingers over his body, and the compelling touch of her mouth while she stroked her tongue over his skin. The woman made him want to be anything but gentle in return. He opened his eyes, wanting to nestle into her hair, feel her body against his, run his hands over her breasts, savor her pussy. His mind boiled with need while his cock throbbed painfully against his pants. It took a minute to focus on the woman standing at the end of the building. The suns captured the gleam in Borna’s black hair, which she’d twisted back in a knot behind her head. Long strands fell around her face, her dark eyes focused on them. Marc straightened, staring at her over Dree’s head. Borna looked…aroused. “What?” Dree sounded like she’d awoken from a dream, looking up at him with gray eyes clouded over with lust. Borna had the same look in her eyes. Dree turned slowly in Marc’s arms. His hands brushed over her breasts, wanting to savor the touch, but allowing her to move so she could see Borna. “Sorry to interrupt.” Borna’s gaze fixed on Dree. “I didn’t know you had an interest in Marc of Torin.” “Borna…” Dree took a step toward Borna. Borna crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “Your men won’t let me contact Kopah-Torl.” His moment had been interrupted. Dree left his arms, moving to Borna. She turned to Marc, placing her hand on Borna’s arm. “There is no reason not to trust her,” she said. Borna shrugged Dree’s arm off of hers. “I don’t need your help, Dree.” Dree looked at her, ready to protest, but Borna turned around. “If I can’t contact them, I will simply head back to the farm.”


She walked back around the building, leaving the two of them alone again. “She is a good person.” Dree crossed her arms, accentuating the curve of her breasts. “You know nothing about her.” He searched for reasons why the woman shouldn’t be trusted, but came up lacking. “She has saved my life twice. And she didn’t have to.” Dree walked up to him, her fingers tracing delicate paths up his chest. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about her,” she continued, her voice dripping with a sweetness that rushed through him like an alluring drug. “But I don’t know a lot about you either, yet I’m willing to travel to your home with you. So am I gullible, or a good judge of character?” “There are times when I can’t picture you as a slave. You would have made a damned good diplomat.” He wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so that he could see her face. “But I had intended to tell my men to let her contact her people.” Her tongue darted out of her mouth, touching the tip of her upper lip. He imagined it licking his cock, those full lips wrapping around him. If he didn’t keep his thoughts at bay he would turn her around and fuck her right there alongside the house. “My former mistress…” she paused and lowered her eyes since she couldn’t lower her face in the grip of his hands. Marc sensed her embarrassment over her loyalty to her previous owner. The soft blush that spread over her face made her even more beautiful. He brushed his thumb over the warmth of her skin, encouraging her to continue. “Marla of Torl trusted her. And Borna took me under her wing. She worked with me.” He wanted to know how much she worked with Dree. There was something between the two women, and he wanted to know what it was. Or maybe the bond was on Borna’s side, and that was why Dree left. He wanted to believe she left for him, but he needed to hear from her why she returned. “Then why did you leave?” he prompted. His insides tightened, preparing for the worst of answers. “Marc,” she sighed, reaching for his hands and taking them in her smaller ones, pulling them into her grasp so that she held them in front of her face. Her breath was hot against his skin when she continued. “I needed to get my people. They could have a life on Kopah-Torl.” Something inside him told him there was another reason. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but hard training made him good at reading people. Dree was an open book, trusting and so new to his way of life. And there was something she wasn’t telling him. “We managed to get a few who claimed they were from Poltar out when we first entered the castle,” he told her. “You did?” Her face lit up with more happiness than he’d seen before. “Where are they?” “They left for Torin almost a week ago.” He knew this meant a lot to her because whatever censored emotions she’d had a moment before were now completely gone.


A shrill scream sounded from the other side of the house. Every muscle inside Marc hardened from the sound, while he braced himself instinctively for an attack. Dree shuddered, turning and at the same time clinging to him. Protective instincts flushed through him. Their conversation no longer mattered, although issues remained unsettled. Grabbing her and holding her behind him, Marc pulled his laser, using the building and his body to shelter Dree while he moved toward the front of the house. Chapter Seventeen

Marc’s body was as solid as the side of the house next to Dree. His heartbeat firmly in his chest, a strong repeating throb that she held on to, focused on to keep from panicking. Whoever screamed, it had been the last sound they made before dying. “What happened?” She edged into him, suddenly craving the warmth of his body while a nasty chill rushed over her. Marc held his laser in his hand, another one at his waist, crushing into Dree while she hugged him. He was a giant, a wall blocking her view around the side of the house. “My guess is we have company.” His voice was low, hard, without emotion. But his words sent a nasty chill through Dree. He took a step forward, and she moved with him, not wanting to leave the security of his body. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be on overload, having just had his hands on her, and now fear was pumping through her almost too fast for her to breathe. She wanted to go back to kissing him, to being in his arms. Someone started running. And then there were footsteps everywhere. Marc had moved around the corner of the house, his arm extended low to keep her behind him. “Get your fucking hands off of me.” It was Borna, and she sounded more than pissed. Dree heard something behind her and turned in time to see a tall Bortan, his beady red eyes piercing her with their angry stare. A mean sneer crossed the half-human, half-machine face as he pointed a long gun at them. She didn’t think. And later she would barely remember what compelled her, but somehow Dree pulled the laser from Marc’s belt. A throat-wrenching scream escaped her lips as she fired at the Bortan. The surprised expression that crossed his face while the laser ripped through his body stunned Dree. Her finger pressed against the cold metal of the trigger, seeming to become one with it. Muscles clamped down in her arms, preventing her from lowering them. She simply stared down the length of the weapon while continuing to fire.


Someone else rounded the building, the metal catching her eye before she even saw their face. Adjusting the gun, her finger smashing into the trigger, the female Bortan rounding the corner looked down when Dree sliced through her arm. “Go away!” she screamed. Her legs suddenly felt too wobbly to hold her. Stepping backwards, unable to stare any longer at the two Bortan bleeding on the ground, she turned, the urge to run driving her. Marc’s powerful chest stopped her. Slamming into him, tears burned down her cheeks. Would the Bortan ever leave them alone? “I killed them,” she cried out. “Calm down.” Marc sounded too at ease. She stared into his dark gaze, an angry fire burning in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. A warrior stood before her, more dangerous and fierce-looking than any Bortan she had ever laid eyes on. He grabbed her, nearly pulling her off her feet while moving around the front of the building. His body became a human shield, his grip a steel clamp around her arm. Several people walked out of the house. Two Bortan, hauling a fighting and kicking Borna, moved into the yard. “Get your fucking hands off of me.” Borna screamed, her body twisting, while long black hair flew around her, adding to the insanity of the moment. “Marc of Torin. You will surrender.” The metallic voice rumbled toward them from the side. Marc’s body twisted as he opened fire on the Bortan that moved toward them from the front of the house. But he only had his one weapon, his other laser still in Dree’s hand. The cold metal slid around in her grip, her palm so sweaty she could barely hold it. The Bortans leaving the house fired toward them as well. Dree raised the laser in her hand, a scream wrenching from her throat as she tried to focus on either of the Bortan while Borna twisted and turned between them. The sensation of falling, Marc underneath her, his massive frame preventing her from hitting the ground, distracted her. But it was too late. Her finger clamped down on the laser, her hair sticking to her tear-stained face while she fired blindly. This was stupid. She needed to drop the damned weapon and figure out why they had fallen to the ground. It seemed the ground vibrated underneath them from heavy footsteps running around them. People were everywhere, and if she didn’t quit firing someone would get killed, like Borna or one of Marc’s men. “Drop it, Dree.” It was a man’s voice, yelling at her. She opened her hand, spreading her fingers, her arm still extended while the weapon left her grip, falling somewhere nearby.


Marc lay underneath her. Shoving her hair out of her face, she turned, and that is when she saw the blood. “No!” She grabbed him. But he was too heavy for her to lift. “It’s okay, Dree.” Borna wrapped her arms around Dree, pulling her away from Marc. “It’s a flesh wound. He’ll be fine.” “Marc.” She tried to pull free from Borna, who held her firmly in her arms. Trent Dar lifted Marc, who indeed seemed to stand with some assistance. Several other warriors and a handful of townspeople moved around them, dragging dead Bortan. “Bring her to the carrier,” Trent told Borna as he helped the injured Marc walk the distance. Blood stained through Marc’s shirt. He pressed his hand against his injured arm and straightened, walking tall and proud toward the carrier. She barely paid attention to the other warriors loading the computer equipment. Her heart raced so fast she could barely breathe. Borna held her close, almost carrying her while they followed the men. “Are you okay?” Borna’s tone was gentle, soothing. Dree looked at her. This was out of character for her new friend. “I have no idea,” she answered honestly. “I killed some people.” “You did well, soldier.” Borna didn’t smile, but her dark eyes glowed, the same dangerous look she’d seen on Marc’s face hovered over Borna’s pretty features. “It’s all a blur. I’m not sure that I did all that well.” There were still people hurrying all around them. She had no idea where the people who lived in the homes around them had been all this time, but now they seemed to come out in hordes. Several women ran forward, carrying blankets that they lined in the back of the carrier. “This should make you more comfortable.” One of the women did a little curtsy to Marc after arranging a few blankets in the back for him. “It’s much appreciated,” he told her. Dree heard the strain in his voice and knew he was in pain. Something weighed heavy on her heart, an ache that sank through her. She trembled, searching his face when he looked at her. “We’ve sent the medics ahead,” Trent Dar told him. The Gren had climbed into the driver’s seat, turning to speak to Marc. “I can contact one of them to turn around.” Marc shook his head, his dark hair pressed against his head from sweat. Dree climbed into the carrier,


crawling so that she kneeled next to him. “Let me see,” she whispered. “I can at least clean and wrap it.” She needed to be strong, show the bravery that Marc displayed. All she wanted to do was crawl into his arms and cry, allow him to hold her. His soft blue eyes were a pool of pain and frustration. “Help me get my shirt off.” Touching him sent shivers through her body. She shouldn’t be turned on like this when Marc was hurt, in pain. But helping him glide his shirt over his body, muscles appearing everywhere in front of her, made her pussy throb. Someone closed the carrier door behind them, casting dark shadows over his immaculate chest. Dree’s fingers trembled when she reached for his injured arm, sliced wide open from the laser. “We’ll just wrap it for now.” Marc looked over her to the Gren. “I don’t want anyone coming back this way who doesn’t have to.” Borna had climbed in the front, sitting next to Trent Dar. “You have a med kit in this thing, don’t you?” Dree looked in her direction while Trent Dar grunted something. Whatever they did, she feared they needed to do it quickly. Marc was losing a lot of blood. Borna pulled a box out of the compartment Trent Dar pointed to, and then went down on her knees in front of Marc. Dree found herself moving to the side, placing her hands on his powerful shoulders while Borna wrapped the injury. Marc turned his head away from Borna, his blue eyes glassy as he stared at her. “Kiss me.” Dree smiled, more than willing to be his distraction from the pain. Leaning forward carefully, she sucked on his lower lip. “Are you sure you can handle it?” she teased, losing herself quickly in the depths of his blue orbs. Marc groaned, and then growled when Borna tugged on the bandages. “She is going to kill me,” he muttered. Borna knelt over him, her large breasts almost in his face while she secured the wrappings on his arm. If he were to turn his head, he could bury himself in her cleavage. Dree wondered if he found Borna as captivating as she did. Her dark beauty couldn’t be missed with her long hair, the color of night, streaming around her sensual body. “More like she is saving your life.” Dree kissed his mouth, his chin, his cheeks. She ran her fingers over his bare skin, feeling his muscles tremble under her touch. In spite of the pain, he was aroused. There was no way she would be able to handle such an affliction, carry on a conversation, and be turned on all at the same time. “You saved his life,” Borna said, glancing her way. “You’re a better shot than I guessed.”


“She is right. You might actually be warrior material after all.” Marc smiled, melting her heart. And her entire insides turned to a molten liquid as well, his roguish good looks enough to make a woman beg to be fucked. “Hardly.” Dree smiled back at both of them. Stroking his shoulders, losing herself in the perfection of his body, the last thing she wanted to do was talk about how she’d killed people, even if they were Bortan. “Well, I think that bandage should hold you until your doctors can look at you.” Borna leaned back, twisting her hair absently behind her back while she spoke. Marc looked at her, leaning hard into Dree as he did. He seemed suddenly very sleepy and she wondered what was in that medic kit Borna had used. Dree hadn’t paid close attention. Possibly Borna had given him a sedative to ease the discomfort, in which case, she would have a very heavy blanket over her through their journey to his home. “Thank you.” Marc relaxed even further. Borna shrugged, obviously not comfortable with the gratitude and slid back into the front next to Trent Dar.

Dree must have fallen asleep. Half of her body tingled from lack of circulation while she struggled to adjust herself under Marc. It was very dark outside and she could tell the engines of the carrier slowed. Within minutes they had stopped and the carrier doors opened. Several guards lifted Marc off of Dree, carrying him away into the night. Dree slid out of the carrier on her rear, stepping onto the ground unceremoniously. “Is this Torin?” She looked around her at the magnificent building that stood so high it disappeared into the darkness of the sky. “I never thought I would step foot on this land.” Borna stood next to her, also looking around her and sounding just as awestruck. “Follow me.” The Gren appeared out of nowhere, his long cape flowing around him as he walked ahead of them. Dree walked next to Borna, following Trent Dar as he led them through a tall gate and into the huge building. If this was Marc’s home, his castle made King Sorale’s place look like a dump. The Gren’s boots echoed in the large hallway, which was dimly lit with small round bulbs hanging from thick chains from the ceiling. Marc had disappeared and Dree had no idea where he led them. Her heart raced, half-excited and more than a little nervous. After passing several closed doors, Trent Dar opened the one at the end of the hall and gestured for them to enter.


“You will come with me,” he told Borna. Dree looked quickly around the dark room, and then back at the other two standing in the doorway. “Does she have to leave me?” The Gren looked at her with those penetrating black eyes, and then at Borna. He lifted a shoulder lazily. “I was simply going to give her the room across the hall. Stay together if you like.” With that, he turned and left the two of them, the steady beat of his boots echoing until they faded along with his presence. “He brought you to Marc of Torin’s room.” Borna entered into the darkness and then placed her hand on a light pad on the wall. Instantly, soft light filled the room. Its magnificence took Dree’s breath away. Not even her old master on Torl had lived this well. Thick carpet covered the floor, with a large bed definitely the center of attention in the middle of the room. Extravagant tapestries hung on the walls, rich in color and design. Dree didn’t recognize the artwork but doubted it was anything from Benox. The material looked foreign, almost alive. “These are all spoils of victory,” Borna told her, running her finger over one of the tapestries and then moving to a glass case where weapons were on display. Everything about the room was very masculine, dominating, powerful. Just like Marc of Torin. Nothing here appeared weak, not even the high-back ornately carved chair that set in front of the computer. Borna moved there next, sliding the chair back and plopping down in it like she’d done it a million times. “What are you doing?” Dree asked, glancing at the door, which was still open with the quiet hallway outside giving no indication that anyone was nearby. “Contacting Kopah-Torl.” Borna pressed several buttons until the transmitting screen appeared. “I’m sure they are monitoring our activities. If they don’t want me doing this, someone will appear soon.” Borna sat tall in the chair, her black hair wild and unbrushed, falling around her. Her confidence, her willingness to take on the unknown, brace new situations was enviable. It would take time, but Dree felt that confidence growing in her slowly. She knew it had been a streak of luck, but she had helped out when the Bortan tried to attack them before they left the kingdom. With time, she would come in to her own. Moving behind Borna she watched while the transmission opened and then finally Trev of Kopah appeared on the screen. His expression remained solemn for only a moment and then he smiled warmly. “Hello, ladies. You two are quite a sight for tired eyes.” Icy fingertips crept up Dree’s spine. She froze, staring at the man she would have been content not to see again. Of all the men she’d fucked in her lifetime, running into any of them wouldn’t affect her the way she felt right now. “I’ll be returning to the farm in the next couple of days,” Borna said without ceremony. “Dree, we look forward to your return as well.” Trev gave no indication that he even remembered


fucking her, his expression not changing while he glanced from one woman to the other. Maybe their way of life was too ingrained in Trev and Marla, the two of them offering each other pleasure with other people. But it was a way of life now behind Dree. She wouldn’t be part of it. “No.” The word barely escaped her lips. Cold sweat broke out over Dree’s body and she cleared her throat. “No,” she said louder. “No?” Trev sounded sincerely surprised. “Well, sure we do, Dree. You will come home with Borna.” Dree shook her head, her insides tightening while she attempted to stand up to someone she never dreamed of standing up to before. Borna looked up at her, something close to appreciation dancing in her dark eyes. “I’m not returning to the farm.” Dree heard the words come out of her mouth, but wasn’t sure how she managed to say them. The urge to turn and run occurred to her. But she wanted to be strong, to show herself that she could indeed be a free-thinking woman. “We are at the House of Torin and I will be staying here, with Marc of Torin.” “Good for you.” Borna spoke quietly, a grin appearing on her face. She turned to look back at the screen. “I’ll be returning alone,” she told him. There was silence on the other end of the line. Dree couldn’t help think they were discussing her punishment for insubordination. But it wasn’t like that anymore. She was no longer a slave. This was a free world and she was part of it now, able to think and act for herself. When Marla appeared in front of the screen, Dree didn’t miss the sad look in her eyes. But she smiled, glancing from one woman to the next. “Dree. Trev tells me you have found a home at the House of Torin.” Marla nodded, a slight nod she’d seen her mistress do many times in the past, a gesture of approval. “I’m happy you are no longer waiting for yesterday to return. That is something Trev and I had to learn also. We had a good life, but it is no more. That doesn’t mean we can’t find happiness again. We both wish you the best in your new life.” The transmission ended then, and Borna stood slowly. “You love him.” She didn’t make it a question, more like she was coming to accept new information. Dree searched the beautiful woman in front of her, looking for disapproval, but she saw none. “I think I do.” She reached out toward Borna, and the woman allowed Dree to take her hand. “I’ve never experienced love before, but it hurts when I’m not with him.” Borna stepped forward and brushed her lips over Dree’s, her scent musky, captivating. “You are a good woman, Dree of Torl. Marc of Torin is blessed with you.” Dree’s eyes fluttered shut, the gentle kiss not what she expected. Taking a deep breath, inhaling Borna’s scent, she experienced a flush of desire sweep through her. “And you are an incredible woman also,” she said honestly. “I owe you so much.” “No.” Borna put her fingers over Dree’s mouth, then brushed them along her cheek, her touch warm,


confident. “I’m not sure I would have stepped up to help Marc of Torin with the Bortan if it weren’t for you. And it was something I needed to do.” There was so much that was a mystery about Borna. Dree doubted anyone knew all of her secrets. But she nodded, and then pulled Borna into a warm embrace. “May the gods be with you,” she whispered into Borna’s thick long hair that smothered her face. Borna returned the hug, but only briefly before pushing her to arm’s length and then looking over Dree’s shoulder. Dree turned and her breath was stolen away by Marc of Torin’s massive frame standing in the doorway. Bare-chested, with nothing more than a small bandage over his arm, he stood there watching the two of them. His expression was dark, brooding, his light blue eyes looking dangerous. A predator—dominating, aggressive. He watched the two of them like a wild animal would watch its prey. Borna stepped around Dree, walking up to Marc slowly, her manner calm and collected. Shoulders held back, her long black hair flowing freely around her, she stopped in front of him. “Take care of her,” she told him. Marc looked down at her and for a moment Dree worried for Borna’s safety. But then he stepped to the side, allowing her passage out of the room. “At the end of the hallway one of my guards will escort you to the computer room. They are waiting for you there. You will help them contact the Bortan.” Borna nodded and left them. Marc approached her with the slow confidence of a successful leader possessing all the knowledge that he’d gotten what he wanted. Her heart raced in her chest. Suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room to breathe. She knew she stared wide-eyed at him, her breasts swelling while a slow throb began deep inside her pussy. “You will explain everything when I return.” He ran his fingers through her hair, tangling his hand behind her head and tugging. “Every detail,” he added in a slow whisper. Hot chills rushed through her. How long had he been standing in the doorway? Chapter Eighteen

Dree swore she’d stayed up all night. She’d explored Marc’s room, learned more about the man she wished had been with her. But Marc had left, and never returned. When the first sun started to rise, she’d finally slipped out of her clothes and snuggled under the satiny smooth covers on her bed. Now stretching, she blinked against the bright light coming in through the large window at the other end of the room. Her hand brushed up against something hard, warm, smooth and firm to the touch. Tingles rushed through her. Anticipation. Her pussy moistened with her hot cream. She ran her fingers over Marc’s arm, gently so as not to disturb him, and then simply rolled to her side and stared at the magnificent piece of art sleeping contentedly next to her in the large bed.


In his sleep, all the aggression gone, the predator was at rest. Long lashes brushed out fading into his well-chiseled face. Cheekbones so hard and masculine and a straight nose added to his perfection. Just staring at him stole her breath. Her cunt throbbed while her breasts swelled, the ache growing with every breath she took. He still looked dangerous, like he could pounce into action at a moment’s notice. His body was relaxed, his expression calm, yet there was an aura about him, something that made her believe that even sleeping, he knew everything that went on around him. Lying next to his naked body, so easily within her touch, made her heart stop beating. No man had ever affected her the way he did. She had no clue when he had finally joined her in the bed. But she did know he hadn’t touched her. Her pussy craved him too much right now, and there was no way she would have slept through him fucking her. Stretching a bit more, she managed to slide the blankets down, uncovering him to the point where she could see that wonderful cock lying in a semi-relaxed state against a mound of dark curls. He simply took her breath away. The ache throbbing through her turned into a needy pain, her body preparing itself for him. She tightened her inner thighs, fighting the urge to run her fingers over her soaked cunt, to spread her thick cream over her throbbing clit. Lying next to her like this, she could almost imagine him not powerful, not capable of saving an entire planet. Relaxed as he was, he appeared to be just a man, the most perfect specimen his gender had to offer, but just a man. But all of his power, his aggressiveness, his ability to control everything around him was part of who Marc of Torin was. And the entire package had stolen her heart. She couldn’t believe she could just lie there and stare at him and be so perfectly content. Although maybe content wasn’t exactly the right word. Her fingers itched to travel over his body, feel his strength, explore every inch of him. She wanted to run her tongue over the firm curves of his muscles, taste him. She inhaled deeply, the throbbing inside her cunt turning into a furious ache. “Come here,” he muttered. Marc hadn’t moved. He didn’t open his eyes. But his command was quite clear. Dree smiled, all too eager to cuddle against him. He snuggled in close, his arm wrapping around her, pulling her against him. Her breasts smashed against his rock-hard chest, her nipples crushing against the heat of his body. Tingles rushed through her, and she draped her leg over his legs, itching to adjust her pussy over his cock. “How long have you been awake?” she whispered, not wanting to break the mood of his half-awake state. He was so damned sexy. “Long enough to allow you an eyeful.” The corner of his mouth turned up, the smallest of smiles showing his amusement. Dree blushed in spite of herself. “What makes you think I was staring?” There was no way he could have known that she was. He opened one eye, glancing her way, the smirk on his face not disappearing. “You were staring,” he told her, sounding very convinced of the fact.


She wouldn’t lie to him, but didn’t want to admit the obvious. So she shrugged, rubbing herself against his hard body, wishing he would touch her more than he was. Her nipples tingled, craving to be sucked, her breasts too tender, the pressure only building the more she pressed into him. It was all she could do not to rock her hips against his hard thigh. Everything inside her craved him. His arm draped over her shoulder, protectively, holding her to him. But otherwise he remained relaxed, waking up slowly. She knew she would die if he didn’t appease the growing pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other than mounting him and fucking him senseless. “Did Borna help you understand the computer?” she asked, deciding to change the subject might wake him up a bit, and distract the craving that consumed her. Marc rolled over, draping her with his body. He ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek, watching the movement with a lazy stare. “The Bortan have left.” He didn’t see a need to share any more with her. She saw that. But Dree wanted to know more, she didn’t want to be a toy meant to amuse after matters of the day were settled. She wanted to be part of his life, know his mind, share in his thoughts. “What made them leave?” she pressed. Marc ran his hand over her shoulder, coming dangerously close to touching her breast, the swelling ache there bordering on pain as he glided by. His fingers caressed her arm, which she held against her breasts between them. Stretching her arm to the side, he ran his fingers along the underside, driving her nuts while he seemed content to simply watch the simple act. “We defeated them. Benox will not be taken down by their covert ways.” He gripped her wrist, stretching her arm to the side while his gaze traveled over her body and finally to her face. “For now, we are again at peace.” For now.And defeating the Bortan would make Marc of Torin more powerful. An entity someone else might want to come along and challenge. She knew she would be able to take on those challenges as long as she was by his side. “So now what?” she asked, wiggling underneath him. Marc’s smile was lazy, and pure sexual perfection. A fever rushed through her. The throbbing pain consuming her almost too much to bear. If he didn’t do something to her soon she would explode. And then he moved. Quickly. One solid flowing movement that she didn’t have time to prepare for. Rising over her, the blankets gliding off both of them, he straddled her, pinning her to the bed, while grabbing her other wrist and pinning both of them next to her head. A fire matching that burning inside her smoldered in his pale blue eyes. Staring down at her, his soft brown curls bordering his perfectly chiseled face, a twitch began in his jaw. His expression remained relaxed otherwise, but his mind was churning, thoughts spawning. Dree could only guess what he had in mind.


“You told me you left Kopah-Torl to free your people from the castle.” His statement came out of nowhere. “Now you will tell me the other reason.” Heat spread over her as the memory of giving herself to Trev, consenting to her previous mistress’s wishes, burned through her with humiliation. “Did you leave because of Borna?” He misread her thoughts. Slowly she shook her head. She would always demand honesty from him and knew in turn, he deserved the same. “I’m no longer a sex slave, Marc,” she began, more than aware of his powerful body crushing her into the soft bed underneath them. “Marla is my old mistress. I have obeyed her unconditionally all of my life.” He knelt over her, his powerful legs pinning her two legs together. His cock, relaxed against her stomach, stormed to life over her words. But she knew more than lust surged through him. The predator, the possessor who would not allow what was his to be messed with, awoke within him. A storm brewed in his gaze and she wondered how he would react to the truth of the matter. “What did she ask you to do?” His grip tightened on her wrists, not painfully, but bordering damned close to it. Her breath caught in her throat. She was completely vulnerable to whatever he might do to her. Nothing she could do. Scream. Fight. Any attempt at resistance would be null. But she wanted him to know what happened. She realized that. Something had come to life that night in her. A sense of freedom. The realization that she could have said no—that she should have said no. She had just realized it too late. “She asked me to have sex with her life mate.” Dree searched his face quickly for his reaction. The storm brewing in his gaze turned his eyes to a deadly shade of dark blue. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing while the room suddenly seemed way too warm. Panic rippled through her. Marc wasn’t going to take this well. “And did you?” Dree nodded, unable to speak. Her throat had gone too dry. Marc almost leapt off of the bed, turning from her, moving quickly and silently. Fury radiated from him. But she couldn’t let him go. Climbing off of the bed, she followed him to the large window where he stood naked and stared out at plush countryside that she doubted he saw at the moment. “And I left the next morning,” she told him, aching to touch him, wanting more than anything to place her hand on his back, feel the powerful heat radiating from him. “I had found a place where my people could live well, work and be understood for their history.” She paused for a moment, looking down at the ground, unable to stare at his back any longer without touching him. “That place just wasn’t for me.”


Again Marc moved, the silent predator, his haunted eyes pinning her when she looked up at him. “Did you enjoy it?” “I simply entered the mode that I had existed in for years.” She wanted him to understand. Whether he threw her out or not, he would know her heart. That was the best she could offer him. “I didn’t think. There was no feeling. He loves Marla. It is clear when you see the two of them. But they are from another world, another life. And yes, it was my life. I fucked without thinking, knowing the actions by rote and moving through each one of them until we were done.” Marc stared at her. She wouldn’t look away. Watching him digest slowly what she had just told him, she waited for him to pass judgment, to realize finally that she wasn’t the woman for him. It became harder and harder to breathe. If he threw her out, she just knew she would die. “And is that what you do with me?” he asked her, his tone as hard as the expression on his face. “You know the actions by heart, so do you just go through each one of them until we are done?” Dree stared at him, stunned. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her such a thing. Suddenly she wanted to hit him, pound some sense through that male ego of his. “No!” she yelled at him then turned away from him, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Of all his possible reactions to what she had just shared with him, she hadn’t expected that one. She marched to the other side of the bed, needing space, but then turned to face him, planting her fists on her hips. “With every man I have ever fucked, I’ve been dead,” she yelled at him. “You gave me life. I’ve learned to be free—truly free. A freedom I feel every time you ever touch me. But my mind is alive too. My thoughts, and my heart, explode when I am with you. You’ve shown me how to think—and how to love.” She looked down at her feet, suddenly embarrassed at her admittance of love. Never had she told another soul that she loved them. But she did love Marc of Torin. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. His hands were on her before she knew he’d crossed the room. Lifting her, he tossed her onto the bed. “Thoughts of murder enter my mind when I think of another man touching you,” he told her. He didn’t crawl over her, or get on the bed with her, but simply stood over her. She realized then how hard his cock was, a dangerous weapon, swollen and angry, pointing straight at her. Moisture seeped from her cunt, a mixture of fear and desire swarming through her with more intensity than she thought she could bear. “Swear to me no man will ever fuck you again. No one but me.” She nodded without needing to think about it. “No one but you,” she whispered, wanting that more than she wanted to breathe. When he finally moved over her, she spread her legs, wrapping herself around him, holding him with all of her strength to her. His cock pushed hard against the entrance of her pussy. She swelled, her pussy soaked with her thick cream, while she thrust upward with her hips, wanting him inside her before she died from the unbearable pain throbbing through her.


“You know that I love you.” He said it like he was talking about the suns rising, like it was the most assumed thing in the world. “I wasn’t sure,” she admitted, her heart swelling so full with the knowledge that she could hardly breathe. She had to look stupid with the giant grin that crossed her face. Marc plowed deep inside her cunt, filling her, the pressure skyrocketing through her, forcing all air out of her lungs. “For the sake of the gods,” she cried out. “Marc.” “Tell me that you love me.” He pulled his cock out, almost leaving her, and then slammed with a driving force deep inside her so that she almost slid off of the bed. “I love you,” she yelled, grabbing his shoulders, her eyes locked on his. “I want to be with you always,” she admitted, on half a breath. Nothing had ever felt better than his cock when he began moving in and out of her. The inner walls of her pussy clung to him, loving the stroking of his shaft while it soothed the pressure that had built to the point of dying pain. Stretching her legs, sliding her feet along his arms until she rested them on his shoulders, she went over the edge when his cock buried itself deeper in her than ever before. “Damn it. Dree.” Marc’s expression filled with turmoil. His eyes closing while he gritted his teeth. “You are so damned tight.” The pressure building from his thrusts made it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the pending explosion that was so close. Sliding her hands down his arms, she grabbed her breasts, squeezing her nipples, feeling the quick pain clear through to her clit. “I hadn’t fucked anyone for a long time before you,” she told him, barely able to make the words come out, although the thought was clear in her head. “And this is the first time I’ve made love.” His cock vibrated inside her, twitching and growing as he prepared to come. She forced herself to stay as relaxed as possible, wanting him deep within her, needing to feel every inch of him when he exploded. But as he began to thrust harder, drive into her with more force than she thought she could endure, she couldn’t take it any longer. The pressure inside her broke, white light flashing before her eyes while every nerve ending inside of her exploded. “Dear gods.” She would die. Never would she recuperate from such an orgasm. Rush after rush of hot cream flowed through her, the heat so intense she burned yet craved more. Her body contorted, tightening and relaxing again and again while she came all over his cock. He fucked her harder, staring down at her with a determination that almost made her melt. And then his cock hardened, his body stilling. Muscles rippled everywhere over his gleaming skin, a sheen of sweat making him even more sexy. Spilling his cum deep inside her, the hot squirts coating her, mixing with her own cream, she knew she had never experienced anything like this before. He came with such heat, such fire, branding her his for


life. His pussy. His woman. “My life mate,” he whispered into her ear while he collapsed over her. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she knew they were truly one. “My life mate,” she agreed, while she felt their hearts beat as one.

About the author:

All my life, I’ve wondered at how people fall into the routines of life. The paths we travel seemed to be well-trodden by society. We go to school, fall in love, find a line of work (and hope and pray it is one we like), have children and do our best to mold them into good people who will travel the same path. This is the path so commonly referred to as the “real world”. The characters in my books are destined to stray down a different path other than the one society suggests. Each story leads the reader into a world altered slightly from the one they know. For me, this is what good fiction is about, an opportunity to escape from the daily grind and wander down someone else’s path. Lorie O’Clare lives in Kansas with her three sons.

Lorie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224. Also available Lorie O’Clare:

Fallen Gods: Tainted Purity Full Moon Rising Lunewulf 1: Pack Law Lunewulf 2: In Her Blood Lunewulf 3: In Her Dreams Lunewulf 4: In Her Nature Lunewulf 5: In Her Soul Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders


Things That Go Bump in the Night 2004 anthology

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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