Page 30 of Stolen By the Wraiths
Her casual discussion of torturing Alix made something break in my chest.
"The way her body responded to your output during bonding was remarkable," she continued with clinical interest. "Full synchronization in hours. Most impressive was the pleasure response integration—how her nervous system adapted to find satisfaction in submission to your territorial marking."
She was talking about the most sacred moments of our connection. The way Alix had arched beneath me, begging to be claimed. The way she'd responded to my dominance with complete surrender that had nearly driven me insane.
"You're going to die," I said with absolute conviction. "When I get out of here, I'm going to hunt you down and tear you apart for even thinking about touching her."
"Predictable vocalizations," she observed, unaffected. "A textbook example of protective instinct overriding rational assessment. We'll want to quantify that during our experimental phases."
"What experimental phases?"
Her smile was the most chilling thing I'd encountered in years of dealing with monsters. "Breaking and reforming your bond, of course. Understanding how to break genuine bonds and substitute artificial ones. The human female will provide excellent data on adaptation to modified Tsekai biochemistry. I'm particularly curious about pain tolerance during forced separation and how quickly we can condition new bonding responses."
"How to sever natural connections and replace them with controlled alternatives." She stood, brushing off her lab coat. "The human will provide excellent data on adaptation. I'm curious about how much agony separation causes."
She paused at her notes. "Our success rate with cortical reassignment in primate subjects was already seventy percent. The neural plasticity required is quite remarkable once you understand the pathways."
My blood turned to ice. "You've done this before."
"Of course. How else would we perfect the technique?" She looked genuinely surprised by the question. "Though I admit, interspecies bonding presents fascinating new variables."
"You touch her and I'll?—"
"You'll what?" She looked genuinely curious. "Tear me apart? Strip flesh from bone? Yes, you mentioned that." She made another note. "The protective vocabulary is quite limited, isn't it?"
I wanted to explain exactly what I'd do to her, in precise, graphic detail. Instead, my throat worked soundlessly.
"We'll begin once you've fully experienced separation trauma." She moved toward the door. "Baseline data needs to be complete. Two guards will place a suppressor collar in an hour."
"What does it do?"
"Creates artificial static in your bond connection. Not severing it—that would be counterproductive. Just making it painful whenever you try to sense her presence." She paused. "Oh, and don't bother hoping for rescue. Your crew is being hunted. Even if they weren't, your emotional connection is a significant liability in escape scenarios."
The door sealed behind her, leaving me alone with separation agony and the promise of worse to come. But as I struggled against restraints designed for my species and strength, something unexpected filtered through the chaos. Not just Alix's presence, but focused determination mixed with something else—the memory of how she'd felt in my arms, how she'd responded to my touch, how completely she'd given herself to me.
Even separated by distance and interference, the echo of her satisfaction was tangible warmth, a reminder that her body still carried the memory of being thoroughly claimed. She wasn't just fighting back—she was fighting as my mate, with all the strength and cunning that came from belonging to someone who'd die before letting harm come to her.
An hour later, the guards returned. Two humans in protective gear, accompanied by a technician carrying what looked like an oversized collar made of bio-responsive metal. The thing hummed with electromagnetic energy that made my markings itch.
"Subject cooperation is not required," one guard announced. "Resistance will result in additional restraint measures."
I didn't resist. Not because of their threats, but because fighting would accomplish nothing except delaying whateverplan was building in Alix's brilliant mind. They secured the collar around my throat, and my world exploded into new dimensions of agony.
The device made every attempt to reach for her feel like fire racing through my skull. Worse, it interfered with the intimate awareness that let me feel her satisfaction, her arousal, the way her body still responded to the memory of my claiming even while separated.
But even through the interference and chaos, something persisted. Not clear communication or emotional sharing, but the fundamental knowledge that she was there, she was mine, and she was fighting to return to me with the same desperate need consuming me.
The guard shift changed twice, marking at least eight hours of agonizing separation. The collar created constant low-level discomfort that spiked into agony whenever I tried to reach for our connection, but worse was what it cut me off from—the intimate awareness of her body, her satisfaction, the way she carried my claiming marks with pride.
But gradually, something else began filtering through the static. Focused determination that could only be coming from Alix. She was working on something requiring intense concentration, and the sheer force of her will was strong enough to penetrate even the collar's interference.
More than that, the echoes of her arousal were faint warmth in the static—not immediate physical desire, but deeper satisfaction from being thoroughly claimed by a male worthy of her submission. Even separated and tortured, her body remembered it belonged to me, and that knowledge sent strength through my battered system.
Whatever Hessler and her team thought they understood about Tsekai bonding, they'd failed to account for the most important factor. Genuine love couldn't be controlled,suppressed, or defeated by technology. Neither could the kind of claiming that went beyond biology into territory they couldn't measure or replicate.
They thought they were studying a biological process. What they'd actually captured was something far more dangerous—a connection forged by choice, strengthened by complete physical surrender, and made unbreakable by mutual possession that transcended mere emotion.
The collar continued its painful feedback, but I endured it with savage anticipation. Because through the torture and chaos, Alix's determination was bright, focused fire. She was coming for me, and when she arrived, I would show Hessler exactly what happened to anyone who threatened my mate.
