Page 55 of Alien Desire
“Do not strike me.” I growl. “I am a Prince of Astia. Son of Lord Qudrat, descendant of Byrok. You should be kneeling before me.”
Lord Bryn sneers. “We are far from Astia now, Prince. And it will be you who kneels before us.”
The guards snarl at me and one draws back his weapon to swing it at me again. I duck and pile towards him, slamming my shoulder into his side and launching my fists into his face.
I don’t know what they mean to do — take me prisoner or kill me — but I won’t let them do either. They don’t know it, but I have an Omega to protect, an Omega with my child in her belly. I will not leave her to the mercy of these renegade Grytons.
Rage soars through my body. My heart thumps and my vision narrows, focusing on the threat. How dare they attack me! I will kill them! I will tear them all to shreds.
The guard pummels me with his spear, but I have him on the defensive. He stumbles and groans, lifting his arms to protect his face as I thump him once, twice, three times.
The Alpha need to fight, to protect, burns in my blood. Beneath my knuckles, bone snaps, flesh bruises. It drives me on.
But then, another guard grabs my shoulders. I’m flung backward.
I swing at them both. Scrape my nails into the gut of the first guard, hearing him scream, and bite down hard on the arm of the other.
I am animal. Feral. Wild. I will fight with everything I have. By all and any means. They will not defeat me.
I endure blows, strikes and punches to my body and my head. I hardly notice them in my rage. I growl as I lash out over and over again.
They will not capture me. They will not take me down.
But I am outnumbered. Five to one.
The other two guards join the foray. I take a fierce smack to the jaw, a stab to my ribs. My feet are kicked from beneath me. My arms contort behind my back.
They force me down to my knees. I twist and turn against their grips, but I’m locked by the strong arms of four soldiers.
“See Tor. You are on your knees already. And they said you were a keen fighter. One of the best.” He snarls at me.
“You want to fight me one on one in a fair fight?” I shout.
The lord smirks.
“No, I thought not,” I say. “You were always one to keep your hands clean and send others to do your dirty work.”
I struggle against the guard’s grip and another slaps me around the face so hard stars dance across my vision. A third jabs me with the butt of his spear, as the fourth kicks my spine with his hard boots. I wince. Every part of my body screams with pain now.
But I won’t give up. I will die fighting.
Spitting at the ground, I eye Lord Bryn with menace. “I will kill you for this,” I tell him.
“I think you will already be dead,” he jeers.
“On whose command?”
I can tell this question intrigues the guards. Their bodies stiffen slightly. It is clear only the lord knows who has sent the request to have me killed.
“It is no concern of yours.” He steps forward and grabs my braids, forcing back my head and exposing my throat. “Remove his head.”
Chapter twenty three - Emma
The ship is bigger than I imagined. A darkly silver ball of metal, descending through the sky with a roar, whipping up the air and blowing snow, ice and cloud in all directions. I stand to the side of the window, watching, hidden by the frame, my heart beating fiercely in my chest.
I realise now how stupid my ideas of escape were, especially when the Gryton stride from the ship, armed with long spears, and tall and strong like Tor. There is no way I can outrun these men, no way I can fight them either.
Shaking my head, I go to turn, not wanting to see anymore, but then I freeze. The scene playing out beyond the window is all wrong. It is not one of brothers reunited, friends happily greeting one another. There is menace, confrontation and danger in their countenance.
