Page 28 of Caldar
This was different.
Warm night air surrounded him. He did not recognize the stars but given enough time, he could determine his location.
Vines pinned him to a cold metal slab. The thick vines tightened around his wrist as he tugged and did not budge. Leaves with sharp edges sliced into his skin. His hands and feet were fixed in place unless he wanted to cut himself to ribbons.
“You metabolized that dose of sedative at an alarming rate,” a figure said. They stepped into Caldar’s line of sight. An older male, judging from the white scales and white feathered crest.
“Perhaps your sedative was inferior,” Caldar said.
“It is a new formulation.”
“My statement has not been proven incorrect.”
The male did not seem impressed. “I always believed that independent thought was a design flaw. A warrior needs to follow orders. They do not need to think or have opinions.”
“I appreciate that I am your captive and your options for engaging conversation are limited, but I would appreciate it if we skip the gloating and taunting.”
“Go straight to the torture? You are a very efficient male.” The male held up a syringe. Moonlight gleamed on the tip of the needle.
“You could release me. I will free myself. It is inevitable. Let us save time and skip that,” Caldar said, explaining his perfectly reasonable position.
“You are amusing, but no. I’m curious how your body will metabolize this compound. It is one I perfected for our warriors to start the breeding process,” the male said, then jabbed Caldar with the needle.
Ice flooded his body.
“Tell me what you did,” Caldar demanded.
“I’m correcting another design flaw. You are not required to think. You are only required to claim your mate.”
“I do not have—”
“Spare me the lies. She is on her way. When you catch her scent, you will not be able to resist.” The male leaned over Caldar, a smug look on his face. He tapped Caldar’s forehead with each word he spoke. “No. More. Thinking. Only breeding.”
Caldar bucked, needle-like thorns piercing his skin as he tried to break free. The injection would send him into a mating rut. He wouldn’t do that to Sonia. He refused, even if the idea sent a flush of desire through him.
No. Not without her permission. Not coerced.
“She won’t come for me. She hated me,” Caldar said, his voice already slurring.
“You are incorrect. She is on her way now.”
His body felt too hot and hard. His tattoos burned. His fangs ached, and he knew, somehow, that the only way to purge himself of this poison was to sink his fangs into the delicious curve of Sonia’s neck.
“She won’t come. She won’t,” he repeated, needing to believe it.
CHAPTER10
SONIA
The narrow hedgerow opened into a small clearing. At the center was a pedestal, upon which a bottle sat.
“Oh, nothing aboutthisis fucky,” Sonia muttered.
She circled the pedestal. A label read “Consume me,” which was not suspicious at all. Droplets of moisture clung to the bottle. She licked her dry lips, desperate for a cold drink.
Was it water? Poison? Medicine?
Sonia grabbed the bottle from the pedestal, half-expecting the act to trigger a trap.
