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Moments passed, but she appeared to be curious. “How can that be?”
I groaned and looked away. “My name is Talis. I am of the Critas family, a long lineage of alpha and omega regenerations. I can get you out of here, Mia Thompson.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She was turning desperate. This was a good sign.
I explained to her how my race had an evolved type of seed. It was one that could use an outside source of DNA in order to achieve a type of immortality. “Instead of binding with the mother’s genes, it uses the outside DNA for regeneration. Though a being cannot keep his memories, he can keep his essence in tact and live throughout eternity.”
It hit her all at once. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to deny it. She knew I was perfect for her.
“You snuck aboard, took our belongings, and you were going to leave us here to die here until—”
Another grin, as sharp as a knife. “Until I saw your face on that screen. I want to breed you, woman.”
Before she could answer, a trickle of blood ran down my abdomen, dripping black against the floor below.
“You’re hurt,” she said, eyes turning sympathetic. “You need to settle down.”
Quickly, I covered the lesion and turned around. “I’m fine.”
“The cut is deep, and the infection is starting to spread,” she said. “I should know. I’m a doctor.”
“You specialize in seed and pussy,” I said.
“You’ll die without my care,” she said with more urgency.
Dammit. I didn’t want to let her out. Would she run? How about scream? If I somehow lost her, I’d lose my fucking mind.
“Why would you want to help someone who tied you up and left you in a cage to rot?” I asked.
Slowly, she slid her thin hand between the bars and traced her fingers across my abdomen. It was the first time she touched me like this, and though the pain was excruciating, I wasn’t stopping her.
“Because not only do we need each other; something happened to you. I refuse to believe you’re a criminal like the men and women on this ship.”
“Maybe,” I said, wondering what plan she had cooked up to escape.
I could be a total fucking asshole sometimes, but I loved that planet. And now I hated the Sankarians that destroyed us, made us slaves until our rebellion forced them to obliterate our presence. Mia had no fucking idea who I was and what I had done.
Through the bars, Mia pointed at a small operating table. There were some strange robotics that could assist the surgery, but, again, they did not look so new. “I will heal your wounds,” she said. “And then, maybe, you can help us get to where we need to go.”
I still wasn’t sure. In my normal state, I would have done as I wanted. I’d rape and abuse her until she was smeared in my sticky come. Back home, it was a sign of dominance, a normal alpha ritual. But I was weak, and she was correct. We had to trust each other to survive, but it gave her the upper hand.
She leaned back and lifted up her shirt, revealing just enough of two perky tits. They slid out like gorgeous teardrops. “Mercy,” I murmured.
She glanced down at her zipper. “It’s your choice,” she said. “Let me go, and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Give? I didn’t ask for what was rightfully mine. My cock was filling to the brim with blood, strengthening like steel. I took the stupid way out and gave in to my desires. I opened that cage.
I unlocked the gate and half expected her to kick me in my wound and try to make an escape. But when she lay on her back, exposing her soft stomach, I crawled inside and knelt over her.
“You run, I rape you,” I warned.
I felt her skin. She was hot and clammy, still full of fear, but she was trying to behave. No woman, omega or otherwise, had skin as soft as her. I had every desire to take her here, but I couldn’t keep ignoring my wounds from my escape.
“Lie back on the table,” she said, soothingly. “I’ll treat you right.”
I couldn’t believe I was giving in to her, but I was weaker than I thought. I managed pry myself away from her perfect body, and leaned back on the operating table. With one eye open, I watched as she found a gun-like tool, hollow and small on the metal instrument table. She placed a cartridge of liquid in the center and seemed to marvel as a cold mist expelled from the tip. She eyed me next, turning back toward the table.
She leaned over me. “Okay, let’s do this,” she said.
