Page 21 of Alien Devil's Wrath
A Mondian heavy tried to charge through the spore cloud, his scaled hide protecting him from the worst of the caustic effects. I let him come, then used his momentum against him, redirecting his bulk into a stone formation hard enough to crack his skull. The ceremonial blade finished what the impact started.
The remaining soldiers were fighting both me and the creatures now, their formation completely broken. I flowed between them, using their confusion and panic, letting the predators handle the ones I couldn’t reach immediately while I focused on the threats with the heaviest weapons.
When the last body hit the ground, silence returned except for the satisfied sounds of the creatures dragging their prizes back to hidden lairs.
“That was remarkable,” Bronwen said, moving toward me with obvious satisfaction.
Her dark hair had caught some of the settling spore particles, creating an eerie shimmer in the tunnel’s dim light. But she’d stayed well clear of the caustic clouds, and her eyes were bright with excitement and desire. Hunger and admiration that made my pulse quicken.
“You move like violence was your first language,” she continued, stepping over bodies without a glance, her attention focused entirely on me. “Ruthless, completely in control of every variable. Impressive work.”
The way she described multiple homicides, like she was reviewing a performance she’d thoroughly enjoyed, sent possession surging through my system.
She reached up to touch my face, her fingers gentle despite the carnage surrounding us. Her palm was warm against my cheek, and I could sense her arousal mixing with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid bite of settling spores.
“You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for my entire life,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of wonder beneath the excitement.
Something primitive roared to life in my chest. She understood what I was, what I’d been made for, and instead of fearing it, she celebrated it. Craved it.
My hands found her waist, pulling her against me. The need to claim her, to make her mine in every possible way, crashed over me with overwhelming force.
“Bronwen,” I growled, her name rough in my throat.
“Yes,” she breathed, pressing closer until her curves molded against my harder angles. “I want to see more of what you’re capable of.”
A deep rumble shook the entire cave system. Different from the smaller tremors we’d felt before. This one came from far below, resonating through solid stone with a power that made dust rain from the ceiling.
“Oh,” Bronwen said, her head snapping toward the sound, a predator’s instinct overriding everything else. “The noise from our little party woke up my large friend.”
The Burrow-Maw. Our fight had disturbed its sleep, and now the massive creature was stirring in the depths.
“How long before?—”
“Maybe thirty minutes before the tunnels become unstable,” she said, already moving toward our gear. “We need to find somewhere more structurally sound to wait this out. Preferably a formation carved from different rock than this creature’s excavations.”
She shouldered her pack, then looked back at me with that predatory smile.
“Besides,” she added, “I want to continue our conversation somewhere with more privacy.”
We moved quickly through the tunnel system, following Bronwen’s lead as she navigated toward more stable passages. The tremors were getting stronger, more frequent, as the creature below shifted and began to wake properly.
“There,” she said, pointing to a narrow opening barely wide enough for my shoulders. “Natural cave formation, different rock layer. Should be safe from whatever tantrum the creature decides to throw.”
We squeezed through the entrance into a small chamber carved from solid stone by centuries of water flow. The space was intimate. Walls close enough to touch on both sides, ceiling low enough that I had to duck when I stood. But it felt solid, stable, completely removed from the creature’s tunnel network.
And it was small enough that we had to sit very close together.
Bronwen settled beside me, close enough that her thigh pressed against mine. The casual contact sent awarenessthrough my system. She was warm, soft, still radiating satisfaction from watching me work.
“That was the most remarkable violence I’ve ever witnessed,” she said, her voice carrying lingering excitement. “Watching you move, seeing the way you turned their own momentum against them. Like watching art in motion.”
Her hand came up to rest on my chest, and my pulse raced under her palm.
“You liked watching me kill them,” I said.
“I loved watching you embrace the monster instead of fighting it.” She looked up at me, letting me see the hunger burning in her dark eyes. “You’re magnificent when you stop pretending to be anything other than a predator.”
The space was too small, the air too close, her scent too intoxicating. Every breath brought her deeper into my lungs, every slight movement made me more aware of her body pressed against mine.
