Alliance contact?
The Alliance Prime suspected dissension in the council due to the new protections given to humans. There was also persistent talk about a mysterious consortium working against the Alliance—rumors that no one had yet been able to confirm. Were the human and Qurbaga also connected to that shadowy organization?
“I paid you well for the child,” the human’s voice dropped to a low, predatory growl. Each word dripped with barely contained violence that promised unspeakable consequences. “I do not like to be disappointed.”
“You will not be, Master,” Qurbaga’s response was pure, abject groveling, his voice trembling like a beaten cur. “I will find her.”
The human had just signed his death warrant. Alliance laws forbade the outright murder of humans, but I didn’t give a single damn about politics or treaties or diplomatic consequences. I would kill this male slowly, methodically, savoring every scream as I peeled the flesh from his bones strip by agonizing strip for what he planned to do to my daughter, for daring to even speak of purchasing her like merchandise.
My muscles coiled and tensed beneath my restraints as I fought the overwhelming urge to let the shift take me, to surrender to the transformation. I wanted to break these pathetic bindings and paint the chamber walls with their blood. But I needed to wait. Patience felt like agony when every primal instinct screamed for immediate, brutal violence.
Only a few more hours until Jolie and Lilibet were safe in the southern caves. Only a few more hours until I could unleash seven hells upon them all.
The harsh rasp of the door opening sliced through my murderous thoughts, the hinges protesting with a metallic shriek. The delicate scent of a Ntavian female drifted into the chamber carrying notes of amber and desert flowers that spoke of her species’ arid homeworld. The silver tray she carried rattled violently in her grip in a rhythm that betrayed her terror. The food she brought smelled divine, something smoky and complex that would normally make my mouth water, but my gut had no room for anything except the white-hot, all-consuming flames of revenge.
The female’s fear scent spiked as she crossed the threshold into the chamber, cutting through the rich aroma of the food she carried. The chemical signature of terror rolled off her in waves so thick I could almost taste it on my tongue. Whatever brutal treatment Qurbaga and the human had subjected her to, it left scars that would likely never fully heal, wounds that went far beyond the physical. Another black mark against them, another compelling reason they deserved to die screaming.
The tray hit the table with a resounding thunk, followed immediately by the rapid, desperate patter of footsteps as the female fled, her soft soled shoes slapping against the floor in her haste to escape. The human’s low, dark chuckle pursued her like a predator toying with wounded prey, the sound rich with sadistic amusement. He enjoyed her terror, fed on it, drawing sustenance from her suffering. I would make him understand that particular brand of fear, would teach him what it meant to be truly helpless before I granted him the mercy of death.
Not yet.
Silence settled over the chamber, broken only by the delicate tinkling of utensils against porcelain and the wet, disgusting sounds of enthusiastic chewing and smacking lips. While Qurbaga seemed to be the only one partaking of the meal, I caught the soft glug-glug-glug of liquid being poured from a decanter into a glass. Apparently, the human had found something palatable to drink.
“You have heard that Yaard is dead,” the human said finally, breaking the silence, his words punctuated by the sound of liquid being swallowed.
The noise Qurbaga made was a strangled, wet gasp that bubbled up from his throat. “I had heard he escaped to Earth.”
“He did.” Another of those dismissive, contemptuous snorts that seemed to be the human’s signature gesture of disdain. “But the Kerzak prince tracked him down and killed him. And returned home with a human mate.”
Qurbaga’s laughter erupted like shattered glass dragged across granite—harsh, grating, utterly devoid of genuine mirth. “So Alokar prefers human flesh, like me?” He seemed to genuinely believe this news elevated him to the same echelon as Prince Alokar, that it somehow validated his own twisted obsessions. But I knew better. A human female and a Vaktaire warrior had adopted and raised the Kerzak prince. If he’d taken a human mate, it was born of genuine love and respect, not the sick, possessive obsession that drove creatures like Qurbaga.
“I do understand the proclivity toward human females,” Qurbaga drawled, his voice thick with revolting satisfaction as he smacked his lips together. The sound made my claws itch with the desperate need to rip those lips clean off his face, to tear them away in ragged strips and force-feed them to him along with his severed cock, making him choke on his own flesh.
“What will you do to yours when you catch her?” The human’s question carried the weight of casual cruelty, deliveredwith the same indifferent tone one might use to discuss weather patterns.
Jolie was not his. She would never be his. The very concept was an obscenity. Qurbaga would never lay another slimy finger on her perfect skin. I would tear myself apart with my own claws before permitting him even a moment in her presence.
“Punish her.” The pure, undiluted glee threading through his voice was nearly my undoing, each syllable dripping with sadistic anticipation. I could hear the smile in his words, pictured the way his grotesque features twisted with perverse pleasure at the thought of causing her pain.
I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of my own blood, fighting with every ounce of willpower to keep from growling, to maintain the illusion of unconsciousness. Protectiveness for my mate surged through me like a tidal wave of fury, making my scales ripple and twist involuntarily beneath the shallow cuts, the edges curling and lifting with the desperate need to shift and tear these monsters apart with my bare hands.
The human made a sound of profound boredom, the dismissive exhale of a jaded soul that had heard too many tales of cruelty to find novelty in them anymore. “As long as you deliver my prize intact and undamaged, I do not care what depraved entertainment you devise for the human. I can procure you another if you wish.”
“The Alliance making Earth a protectorate has not slowed the slave trade?” Qurbaga’s question carried eager curiosity.
“A bit,” the human sighed with the weary aggravation of someone who thought himself far too important and intelligent to navigate such minor inconveniences. “But with our spies embedded throughout the Alliance, we manage to keep the enterprise flowing without significant disruption. Even thepathetic few rescued by their bleeding-heart operations don’t compare to the hundreds we harvest each year.”
Shock rippled through me like ice water dumped directly onto exposed nerves. This human male was actively orchestrating the abduction and enslavement of his own species.
“As long as I can depend on those who work with me,” the human added, his tone shifting subtly to carry the steel-edged warning of someone accustomed to absolute obedience, someone who had made examples of those who disappointed him.
“You can depend on me, Master. I will find the Naniloa.” Qurbaga’s voice practically dripped with the desperate need to please.
I ground my teeth together until I thought my molars might crack under the pressure. The way they spoke of Lilibet, my precious daughter. Not as a youngling to be protected and cherished, but as a commodity, an object to be traded and possessed.
“See that you do.” The harsh scraping sound of a chair being pushed across stone echoed through the chamber. “I must return to Earth. There’s another treasure I’ve coveted for a considerable time that will soon become available for acquisition.”
“Will you return when the Naniloa and human are captured?” Qurbaga asked. I silently vowed to cut his forked tongue from his throat for referring to my mate and daughter as nothing but objects. They were everything—my heart, my soul, my reason for existing.
