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We moved forward. Davon and Morgn killed the others. One other disappeared. That left only one.
He had a knife to her throat. She’d met my eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks.
She’d given up.
I wanted to scream. Fight. Destroy every last human man who had played a part in it.
The man behind her had released her bonds, using her as a shield as he stood behind her. Then something happened that I hadn’t expected.
She’d been overtaken by calm. A certain strength passed over her features and she stilled. The knife flashed, reminded me that the human that held her captive could snuff away her life at any moment.
I wanted to do something. But I waited. I trusted in her in that moment.
And she fought back. In a maneuver that I wouldn’t have expected out of her in a million years, she flipped the rather large skinny man over her back, slamming him on the ground in front of her. She’d forced the knife from his grasp and took it for herself.
He’d muttered something that I couldn’t make out.
And then she’d sliced his neck so deep it had practically hit bone.
I’d never seen anything like it. Not from a human female. Our species saw them as weak, as breeding stock, but our Alaina was different. She was a fighter. She was a mate worthy of a Vakarran. She was our equal. She was ours.
She’d looked at me then and faltered. Her strength began to wane, and I gave her mine.
She’d taken my hand and I held her. For a long moment, I reveled in the feeling of her and vowed that never again would anyone take her from me. I’d kill them.
I never wanted to feel the loss of my woman, ever.
She was mine. She was ours. Our woman. Our equal. Our warrior.
She’d changed everything.
We fled that hateful place, watching as human men scattered this way and that. We didn’t stop them. As quickly as we could, we fell back to the flying ship and tore off in the direction of the penthouse. Once we landed, my three men took position all around the terrace, waiting, watching and planning for any retaliation the human men might bring to us.
I took Alaina inside and brought her in the shower. I didn’t even take off my clothes, I didn’t care. Roughly, I tore away her panties and turned on the water. She sighed, pressing her thighs together. Her nipples hardened as water cascaded down between us.
Blood ran down her skin in rivulets as I washed the horrors of the past twenty-four hours off her skin. I blinked away tears of anger as the dirt and mud washed away, revealing developing, angry-looking welts and bruises on her body.
Her wrists and ankles were especially bad, purple ringed from the metal cuffs they’d shackled her with.
But that didn’t compare to her face.
On her left cheek was a shallow groove from the bullet that had ricocheted from that man’s gun. Her right eye was bruised black and her lip split. Her blue eyes met mine and my breath hitched in my throat.
Fuck. Even bruised and bloody, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I pressed her up against the wall, my lips finding hers, taking her. I didn’t ask. I didn’t care. I needed her, and she needed me.
She moaned, whimpering as my tongue pushed between her lips. Hers tangled with mine in a dance that only the two of us wanted. Needed.
I wasn’t gentle.
And she opened her legs for me. She tore at my clothes, demanding me to take them off and I did just that. My naked body pushed against hers. Her nipples hardened against my chest.
I kissed her harder and she moaned into my throat.
I wanted her to forget the touch of those humans. I wanted her to know that I and my men were the last men who were ever going to touch her. The only men who had the right to touch her and bring her pleasure for the rest of her life.
I wanted to make her whole again.
