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CHAPTER SEVEN
Rix
Zane, Jorik and I all locked eyes.
Her blood coursed through our veins, giving us her enhanced abilities, even if it was only temporary.
We’d been microdosing on the vials Zane managed to snag, taking a third of what we normally received just to stretch the rations we had.
Our senses weren’t nearly as enhanced as they’d once been, but that didn’t seem to matter. I could still feel Haina’s heart racing below deck. I could still smell her arousal, could still hear her small, muffled whimpers and moans as she discovered what was between her legs and brought herself pleasure.
It was taking every ounce of self-restraint for us to not go down there and help her figure things out, teach her about her own pleasure and how we could make it so much better.
I could hear Zane grinding his teeth beside me, and Jorik’s pulse was going ape-shit.
My cock was as stiff as a steel pipe, and my heart was trying to explode out of my chest.
There was just something so fucking sexy about a woman as lethal but also innocent as Haina. The way she looked at a flower was pure and beautiful, and yet she’d speared fish and shot down a drone like the killer we all knew she was. The dichotomy was astounding, and I was finding it harder and harder to keep things platonic and just friendly.
The fact that her blood pumped through our veins only strengthened the pull we all felt toward her. We all knew that the longer we were with her and less and less of her blood was in us, the more we would start to crave her.
Microdosing wasn’t a way to wean yourself off the source. It was a way to keep your body dependent and craving more. All it did was deplete your abilities and allow you to stretch your supply. It did nothing for the obsession your body and brain had for the source.
“I’m gonna go sit on the bow for a bit,” Jorik muttered, getting up from his spot on the back deck and heading to the bow, a definitive tent in his pants.
Not two minutes later, I heard him jerking off on the bow. His heart rate was sped up, he was sweating, and the sour and sweet scent of pre-cum hung on the night breeze. Not to mention his grunting and moaning that punctured the silent evening like a gong as we sailed.
Zane grunted beside me and shook his head. I could see his boner in his pants, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it.
“You couldn’t have described things in a lessgraphicway,” I said, adjusting my pants and the way the zipper sat uncomfortably against my stiff cock.
He shrugged and grunted again. “Doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who wants to be coddled.”
That was true.
She might be naive in a lot of ways, but Haina wasn’t a wilting flower by any means. She was stronger than any of us even knew, and she didn’t back down, not even to Zane and his brooding, grumpy alpha ways. For a kitten kept in a cage all her life by a demonic monster like Moord, she still had so much fire in her belly.
And even though I’d only known her for six days, there wasn’t much else that I wanted to do besides help her keep those flames alive and make them burn brighter.
A sharp cry followed by a moan echoed up from below deck, and Zane and I locked eyes.
“Guess she foundpleasure,”Zane said with smirk.
We’d been sailing for ten days and had just crossed into Canadian waters. So far, no scary Canadian soldiers had come out of the forest with their guns ready to shoot on sight, but we wouldn’t put it past them, so we remained vigilant.
Haina was getting more and more proficient at blocking out the overwhelming sounds around her and focusing on what she needed to.
We were moored in a secluded bay surrounded by towering evergreen trees and looming mountains.
Jorik found a speargun tucked under the kitchen bench seats, so he went free-diving in search of some fish, not that he expected to find any, but he figured since the bioluminescence survived the rising water temperatures perhaps some species of fish and shellfish had adapted and survived, too. Zane was in a grumpier than grumpy state, so Haina and I ventured onto land in search of fresh water and some food.
Truth be told, I was excited to spend some one-on-one time with her. Unlike my brothers, she seemed to share my optimism and hopeful outlook on life. It was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t believe all hope for the world was lost. On more than one night, as we silently sailed down the coast, the two of us would find ourselves on the bow of the boat talking about how the worldcouldbe if the uprising succeeded. A world where people could live freely and joyfully. That there would be no need for hellcats or super-soldiers and perhaps energy and resources could be allocated into figuring out how to repopulate the world in other ways, besides using Lambdas as broodmares.
As the days with her on the boat sailed by, I found myself being more and more drawn to her in every way. I sought her out. Looked forward to each and every one of our conversations and felt a tingle of joy whenever she came to me with a question about the big wide world, because she trusted me to give her the truth.
“I want to thank you for your patience with me these last few days,” she said as we traipsed through the woods, blazing our own trail.
We each had a satchel on our sides, empty water canteens on our backs, and were armed to the teeth. She’d brought along soap, a razor, and some laundry to wash as well. But even as loaded down as she was with “stuff,” she didn’t seem to be bothered by it.
