Page 48 of Bonded By Savages

I shudder. The weight of the situation cascades down on me, and I can’t keep distant from the tension. When we were enjoying a breakfast together, flirting in the protection of our home, I could imagine a future. When he speaks of war against the brave warriors I idolized, the Empire that stands for everything good in the universe, it crushes my dreams.

“When…when will that happen?” My voice trembles.

The two men stop. Attached to Damian’s wrist, I have no choice but to stand still as well. Damian turns, his near-black eyes drinking up the light as they drink up my being. He looks me up and down, staring through my soul. “Queen Jasmine has kidnaped Obsidian’s pregnant Mate. We will go to war when he wills it, and the War-God will not wait long, not when she has his prize.”

My eyes widen. “But isn’t he scared he’ll kill her if he attacks?”

He shakes his head. “She won’t kill her. That would drive the War-God to an even deeper madness. As it stands, his Mate is a tool for her. An asset in war.” He starts walking again, slowly this time. “Focus on my aura. Close your eyes and walk. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you stumble,” he says, and I close my eyes, taking slow, careful steps against the cobblestones.

I let myself touch Damian’s aura. He’s cooled the rage. I can sense him in front of me, almost like a shadow in my mind, then he moves to the left. I open my eyes the instant before the silver chain goes taut. He’s standing in the grass that goes to his knees. “You felt it.”

“I can sense your direction. So Queen Jasmine has to keep that poor girl alive because she knows where he is?”

“Yes. She’ll have a Bond-Disrupter ring on her finger, is my guess. Pulled off only when the Queen and her royal triad need to know where he is.”

“And what if she says no?”

Damian clenches his jaw. “You don’t know this woman. She is not easy to say no to, not when the lives of her family are at stake.

I shudder. The only news I had heard from Queen Jasmine was good. That she allowed planets to become Independent if they wished, to protect themselves rather than pay for the Aurelian Empire to keep them safe. That her measures she passed gave a legal right to a full education and training for women who spent a year in an Aurelian harem, so that they could leave and find gainful employment, if they wished.

I can’t imagine her kidnapping a pregnant woman.

I can’t imagine her threatening that poor woman, who must feel so alone, forcing her to betray her man.

Tarak sense my distress. “We will never allow anything like that to happen to you. Do not fear, my Mate,” he says, misreading my sorrow for Obsidian’s mate’s situation as fear for my own life.

“Thank you,” I say, and I’m grateful for their protection. No matter what they are, they saved me from a life worse than death.

The huge city gates are open, triads walking through them on the black paved streets. Two triads guard the front gates, standing at rapt attention. One triad has Orb-Blade hilts at their waists, the other two with long spears without tips, and I know that with a thought, they can make the edged barbs appear as they activate their weapons. Their black robes show their dull white brands.

They knuckle the empty brands as we approach, barking an order to clear out, and another triad rushes in through the gates, standing at the side to let us pass.

We walk through the city, and a chill goes through me as I walk through, past the huge walls. They are built of thick granite slabs hauled from the quarries by hand. Chatter stops as we enter, all eyes on us.

The slate-grey eyes look at me with religious devotion, staring at me as a holy symbol of their cause.

Damian and Tarak do not stop to acknowledge the guards, simply striding past. The streets are wide and built of thick paved rocks. To our left, there is a cleared square, where triads are fighting each other with steel weapons, the clang of metal on metal filling the air. I watch as one huge, burly beast of a man kicks his opponent, knocking him down, and mounts him, smashing his fist against his nose. There’s a crack of breaking bone, and he jams his sword against his throat, his arm flexing as he snarls, an inch from ending his life. Then he stands, extending his arm, and the fallen man takes it, blood streaming from his nose as he takes position again.

The drillmaster barks an order, and they stop, turning to knuckle their brands at us as we pass.

To the right is a courtyard of a restaurant with black marble tables. An Aurelian with half his brand filled in leans back, his thick mane of brown hair to his shoulders as he groans in satisfaction. I gasp as a woman darts from under the table, giggling, and she wipes her mouth before jumping on his lap. The two others of his triad cock their heads, and he turns towards us, knuckling his brand.

Oh Gods.

Would my two men do that to me?

Claim me in front of a crowd?

I imagine thousands of hungry eyes staring at me as I am lost to my lust, taken hard by Damian, and I picture myself on all fours, rutted like an animal in front of a crowd. A shiver goes up and down my spine as heat floods between my legs. Damian looks over at me, a confident smirk on his lips, and I know he can sense my arousal spiking, the black pleasure dress rubbing all over my body.

We turn right down a long street, and an Aurelian is walking, straight backed. The ground gleams with slick shininess. It takes me a moment to realize the alien is bleeding. “He’s hurt!” I yell, and Tarak gives me a warning glance.

“It’s a badge of honor to bear pain without complaint. Do not shame him.”

The Aurelian hears my shout and turns. I can’t believe what I am seeing. He’s got the broken hilt of a spear jabbed straight into his side. He stops as he hears us, and grimaces, fighting to control the pain as he raises his shaking hand to his brand, knuckling it in respect. He’s young, tall, a seven-footer, but if he was a human I would place him as twenty at the most.

He doesn’t make a sound as we pass. I see a big building in front of us with an unmistakable red cross on it.

---