by Luna Voss
“They’re waiting for you,” says the auction worker, looking a little bit impatient. “It’s time for you to go through the curtain.”
I take a deep breath, and without another word, I step out onto the block.
It’s bright in the auction room, and I blink as my eyes adjust. I’m standing on a raised platform. The auction block. Around me, I can hear voices, murmuring, the creaking of chairs. These must be the Kyrzon bidders.
All of them are here for the chance to purchase me.
For a few moments, nothing happens, and I just stand on the block feeling awkward and exposed. I haven’t been given any instructions, so I guess I’m just supposed to stay here. My vision starts to get used to the light, and as it does, I can see that the room is filled with tall, muscular Kyrzon warriors. More of them than I’ve ever seen in one place before.
Many more.
And all of them are staring at me, ravenous hunger clearly visible on each of their faces. I feel their eyes drilling into me, taking in my soft curves, my cleavage, the spots on my chest where my rapidly-hardening nipples are poking through the thin fabric of my auction clothes. I think about the way I looked in the dressing room mirror, and I remember just how utterly revealing the outfit I’m wearing is.
That’s the point, I think dully, the most recent City Council meeting suddenly echoing in my mind. The less I’m wearing, the more they want me, the higher they bid.
And right now, I’m seeing firsthand evidence that the system works. At least, as far as the wanting me part of it goes. Because the way these aliens are looking at me is… well, let’s just say it makes me feel some very inappropriate things indeed.
Very inappropriate. Although I’ve always cared about my appearance, I’ve never really gone out of my way to be sexy, or viewed myself as a sexual object. I’ve always been really nervous around guys I liked, and compensated for it by pretending I didn’t have any interest in sex or dating. It was easier for me to just play the role of the focused student, and then the ambitious career girl. That way, I couldn’t get rejected.
But getting rejected isn’t something I have to worry about right now. Far from it. Every single one of these warriors looks like he would gladly sacrifice a leg for the chance to take me home with him. I see burning approval on face after bearded face as countless sets of eyes explore my body.
“Okay, warriors and warlords, are we ready to begin?” comes a woman’s voice, amplified by some type of speaker system.
The crowd roars in response. On the other side of the room, I see a woman standing at a podium with a microphone, clearly the auctioneer. She speaks into the mic:
“This sexy little number is named Christy,” she introduces me. I feel my cheeks reddening at her words.
“Christy is going to be a very, very special treat for one lucky Kyrzon,” she continues. “She’s 18 years old, and was only very recently drafted as a Replacement Bride. Until yesterday, she was an intern in our city government. Now, for the right price, she can be yours.”
The warriors leer at me, several of them licking their lips. I cast my eyes around the crowd, wanting to see their faces. If one of these aliens is going to buy me, I might as well know what he looks like ahead of time.
Oh shit.
My stomach does a backflip as my eyes suddenly land on Chief Rukkarr, who is standing at the back of the room.
Fuck. I didn’t know he was here.
I try to look away from him, but he makes eye contact with me, and for a moment, it’s like I’m trapped in his predatory gaze. I stare into his eyes, and I see pure, intense sexual hunger staring back at me. I see the desire to own, to possess, to dominate. To take something special, and then to make it his, and his alone.
And then he smirks at me. That same cocky smirk from when we were together in the meeting. And from that point forward, I’m basically a goner. Something about this cocky, arrogant Kyrzon chief absolutely captivates me. His casual authority, as though no matter the situation, he’s in charge. The way he looks at me, as though he knows exactly the way my body responds to him.
He’s like masculinity defined. Like a fantasy come to life. Despite his lack of manners the last time we met, all I can focus on right now is the fact that he wanted me. That somehow, I impressed him.
And standing up on the auction block in my skimpy, almost see-through little bodysuit, I get the strong impression that I’m impressing him again. He breaks eye contact and allows his eyes to drift down over my body, positively drinking in my exposed curves and the little shadows of my hard nipples. When his eyes finally move back to my face, he smiles, his expression a mixture of desire and approval. He clearly likes what he sees.
He clearly wants what he sees.
“We’ll start at 1,000 power units,” announces the auctioneer, cutting through my hazy thoughts and raging hormones. “Do I hear 1,000 for Christy?”
Chapter Seven
Several Kyrzons immediately jump up to register their bids.
“1,000!” shout three of them at once, in unison.
“2,000!” roars another, pounding his chest.
“3,000 power units!”
“5,000!”
The heat in my face increases as the room full of aliens all vie to be the one to claim me. I’ve always known, of course, that as a human female, Kyrzon males would find me attractive. But that theoretical knowledge doesn’t begin to compare to the experience of actually seeing them lust over me, and hearing how much they would be willing to pay to have me.
As the amount starts to creep up, it’s hard not to wonder how high the bidding will eventually reach. I happen to know that in New Byzantium, the average price of a bride is 19,000 power units.
And we’re already at 20,000.
The warriors continue to bid, and I can’t help but glance over at Chief Rukkarr. He hasn’t said a word this entire time, and seems to be just watching the bidding unfold with this infuriating little smile on his face. I don’t understand why he isn’t participating. The day before yesterday, he offered Governor Pullman 50,000 power units for me.
“35,000!” yells a clean-shaven Kyrzon.
“40,000!” shouts one with a long, braided beard and a big, dark, circular tattoo in the middle of his forehead.
“45,000!”
“50,000!”
The clean-shaven Kyrzon goes quiet. He looks mad. The alien with the tattoo steps forward, looking triumphant. I gulp, barely able to look at the man who seems likely to become my owner. That face tattoo is really… something.
“It looks like we have a winner!” says the auctioneer, her voice echoing through the room. “Going once… Going twice…”
“70,000 power units.”
The voice comes from the back of the room. And somehow, before I’ve even looked, I know exactly who it belongs to.
Chief Rukkarr steps forward. The sound of shocked murmuring fills the room as every Kyrzon present turns to look at him.
The auctioneer blinks. “70,000 power units,” she repeats, as though confused. Then she blinks. “Chief Rukkarr takes the lead with a bid of 70,000 power units.”
The murmuring stops, and the room fall silent. It doesn’t seem like anyone else can afford to bid higher.
“Going once…” says the auctioneer. “Going twice… and… sold! Chief Rukkarr, you may collect your Bride as soon as we have received payment.”
Rukkarr walks right up next to the podium and towers over the auctioneer. The microphone picks up his voice, broadcasting it across the entire room: “No,” he growls. “Now.”
The auctioneer quickly puts her hand over the microphone, muffling her reply, but I can still hear every word: “I’m sorry, Chief Rukkarr, but I can’t do that. I’m not allowed to let you take her without payment.”
Rukkarr laughs, ignoring her, and begins to walk through the crowd toward the auction block. Toward me. I feel myself trembling as his huge, muscular form grows closer, and I’m not entirely certain whether my body is re
sponding out of fear, or out of desire.
All I know is that the bearded alien walking toward me has some very specific intentions written on his face, and those intentions are not even remotely innocent.
I glance across the room at the auctioneer, who sits at the podium, looking helpless. And then my view is blocked entirely by the enormous chief.
“We meet again,” he whispers so that only I can hear him.
I don’t say anything, just blush, very aware of the way my nipples are poking through my bodysuit. I have no idea what to do. I know that I’m not supposed to go with Rukkarr until he’s paid for me, but the way he’s taking control of the situation, it seems like my new mate is determined to break the rules.
“Come,” he orders me, extending his hand.
I take it, feeling suddenly very submissive. There’s not a chance in the world I’m going to disobey Rukkarr now. Not with him standing right in front of me, every cell in his body projecting authority, the most powerful Kyrzon in the room. I allow the chief to help me down from the auction block and onto the floor.
It’s only now that I’m standing directly next to him that I realize just how big Rukkarr really is. He absolutely dwarfs me. The top of my head doesn’t even reach the bottom of his beard. He puts an arm around me, his touch possessive, and my body gives an involuntary twinge of excitement at the feeling of his huge hand gripping my waist.
Chief Rukkarr begins to lead me to the exit, the crowd of Kyrzons parting around us to let us pass. His hand doesn’t move from my waist the entire time. He’s holding me extremely protectively, not letting anyone else get close. As we move through the crowd, I find myself oddly comforted by his warmth and the strength of his presence. The way he’s touching me makes me feel safe.
He guides me past the auctioneer, and I do my best to give her an apologetic look. I’m just following him, I try to communicate with my eyes. She snorts, the gesture somewhere between amused and exasperated, and gives me a little shrug.
I get the impression she’s had a lot more experience than I have dealing with Kyrzons.
Chapter Eight
I ride with Chief Rukkarr on the back of his tusk-ox, still wearing my auction outfit. I feel completely vulnerable to be dressed in so little, but with all the commotion around leaving the auction house, I just didn’t have any time to change. The way he whisked me out of there, disregarding the rules entirely as he guided me with his dominant touch, is still playing over and over again in my mind.
In fairness to the chief, he did pay for me in full after leading me out of the building. I remember waiting there next to his tusk-ox, feeling deeply awkward, as he counted out the appropriate power cells and tossed them on the ground in front of the auctioneer.
“That’s 75,000,” he had grunted.
And then he turned to me, and immediately, his expression softened. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. And then, as though making up his mind, he simply grabbed me by my waist and picked me up like a child, placing me gently in the saddle of his tusk-ox.
And then he rode away with me.
And now I’m here.
Riding a tusk-ox is a strange new experience, but it’s not as difficult as I would have expected. The creatures are enormous, with great, roomy saddles, and it definitely doesn’t hurt that I have the chief sitting right behind me with his huge hands placed comfortably around my waist. I feel incredibly feminine to have him touching me that way. I feel like I’m his.
Chief Rukkarr feels like I’m his, too. That’s abundantly clear from his body language, and from the confident way he’s holding me. As we ride, his hands begin to explore, as though my body is an exciting new toy for him. He touches my back, my shoulders, my hips. The curve of my ass. I don’t protest, finding myself surprisingly aroused by his probing fingers. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never had anyone pay such eager attention to my body.
I let out an involuntary gasp as he starts to caress the bare skin of my inner thigh. His fingers stop moving, although he doesn’t remove his hand.
“Would you like me to stop?” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling me.
“No,” I admit, almost surprised to hear myself say the word. The truth is, I’m more excited by what he’s doing to me that I have been by anything in a long time. I’m 18 years old and I’ve never even kissed a guy. Having him stroke my inner thigh like this feels… intense. It creates a yearning inside me that I’m not used to experiencing.
Rukkarr keeps stroking me, his fingers reaching tantalizingly high up on my thigh. I feel the place between my legs starting to get warm as my body responds to his touch. I’ve never felt this way while being touched by another person before. This is something I’ve only ever experienced in the privacy of my own room at night.
“Christy,” the chief whispers in my ear, his voice almost a purr, “when you first met me in that meeting with Governor Pullman, did you ever think I would be doing this to you?”
“No,” I whisper back, my voice small. I flash back to our meeting, and the way he spoke to me. He had been so arrogant. I would never have imagined that only two days later, I would be riding with him, letting him touch me like this.
“I didn’t think so, either,” he says. “You were off-limits. An intern in the governor’s office. I wanted you because I knew I couldn’t have you.” One of his hands slides up my navel until it finds my breast, cupping it gently as we ride. “Well,” he corrects himself, “that was one of the reasons I wanted you. But I didn’t think in a million years that I would have the chance to claim you. Little human, I’ve been a lucky man in life. But I didn’t think I would get this lucky.”
I listen to him, captivated. He continues speaking, his hand moving to cup my other breast: “I knew from the moment you had your little outburst in the meeting that I wanted to make you mine. You weren’t meek like the other Brides they sell at the auctions. You had backbone. You had fire within you.”
His hands move back down to my waist, and he pulls me close to him, wrapping his arms around me. He holds me with a dominant, possessive touch, as though he’s making clear to me that I belong to him. His smell is musky and masculine. I find it exotic, but strangely comforting.
“And now you’re mine,” he growls. “Now I get to take you home and claim your fertile womb.”
* * *
After maybe twenty minutes of riding, I can see what seems to be a Kyrzon tent city in the distance.
“Is this your camp?” I ask Rukkarr nervously.
“Yes,” he tells me. “We have made camp here with Clan Nerkesh.”
“Is your clan allied with Clan Nerkesh?”
He pauses.
“For a time,” he answers finally.
I infer from his demeanor that he isn’t overly fond of Chief Nerkesh.
“Rukkarr…” I begin as we get closer to the tents, suddenly very aware of how exposed I am, “is there some way that I can change before we enter the camp? I’m… Not wearing very much.”
“I will instruct my soldiers not to look at you,” the chief says confidently, continuing to ride.
I start to get a little bit panicked as the tents get bigger and I see what seem to be dozens of Kyrzons milling about. Rukkarr puts an arm around my front, as though to reassure me.
“No one will look upon my Bride!” he roars as we ride into the camp. “Any man who looks upon her will die by my sword!”
To my amazement, every single warrior immediately casts his eyes to the ground. Not one of them appears even for a second to consider disobeying their chief.
“I told you,” he whispers in my ear. “You could get naked right here out in the open and not a warrior among them would look upon your nudity. I am the chief, and you are my woman. You will quickly come to understand that in the Kyrzon world, that means something.”
I release a nervous chuckle. “I don’t want to get naked right here out in the open.”
“My tent is here,” he s
ays, taking us to a large tent in the center of the camp. “I have your bundle of personal belongings in my saddlebag. Go and change your clothes, and then we will continue to ride. We aim to be at Castle Gar by nightfall.”
* * *
“Where did you say we were going?” I ask Chief Rukkarr as we ride on from the camp, now flanked by a heavily armed group of Kyrzon soldiers. We’ve both been silent for a little while. I’ve been watching the scenery, amazed. Having never left New Byzantium, the entire world outside the city walls is fascinating to me. I’ve always known there was a vast, sprawling wilderness that covered the planet, but this is the first time I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes. There are hills and rocks and trees the size of which I’ve never seen before in Human Territory.
“We’re going to Clan Gurrak Territory,” Rukkarr grunts. “Clan Gurrak is friendly.”
“I take it that some clans are not friendly?” I ask, wanting to understand the world I’m about to enter as quickly and thoroughly as I can. Everything I’m going through right now is so confusing and new. I don’t even know why we’re still riding, if most of the warriors Rukkarr brought with him are still camping near Human Territory with Clan Nerkesh.
“Right now, we are at war with several clans in this region.”
“Why are you at war with them?”
Rukkarr strokes his beard. “Well, they used to harass our warriors when we would make trips to Human Territory for the auctions. I believe it was an alliance of clans. They would follow us, hide in the trees, pelt us with rocks, sometimes even arrows. They were looking for weakness. They knew we had a long journey home, and they wanted to steal our newly purchased women. So we retaliated. The next time we sent a party to the auctions, we took several carriages filled with hidden warriors. When one of the local clans sent a group to harass us, our warriors burst out of the carriages to attack. We killed all of them, and left their severed heads on pikes along the trail.”
