by Lily Graison
She snorted a laugh and met his disturbing red gaze. “Rumors are wrong.”
A pain so sharp streaked through her brain, she briefly wondered if it was an aneurism but the pain vanished as quickly as it came on. She blinked to clear her head and had Allok possessed eyebrows, one would have lifted as the skin above his right eye shifted. “There is a race of people called the Acirassi who look very much as you do.” He nodded to her with a slight tilt of his head. “Their crowns are adorned with manes the same shade as yours and their skin is pink.” He took another sip from the cup. “But their eyes are silver. Yours are not. Are you of mixed breed?”
“No. I’m all human and I have no magic. I’m just plain ole, Marcy Jean Duncan from Nowhere, Tennessee.”
He took another drink, looking at her as he did. “I think you lie.”
“Why would I?”
“To keep from giving me what I want.”
“Which is?”
He grinned and those pointed teeth caused a shiver to race up her spine. “I want the other warlord’s dead and I want the Corporation that runs this hellish prison to bow at my feet. And I want you to get it for me.”
Like all super villains, he wanted to rule the world. Typical. “Sorry. Fresh out of magic.”
His skin turned a darker shade of red and he went so still he didn’t look real. The dude was seriously creepy.
He blinked as he drank the rest of whatever he’d poured into his cup, then set it down. “There are ways to make you do as I wish.”
“No amount of pain inflicted on me or others can make me do something I’m not capable of. I’m not one of those Ack-rassi things. I can’t do magic.” He didn’t believe her. The look on his face told her that much. How much torture would he subject her to in order to get her to perform parlor tricks for him?
Somewhere in camp, a female screamed. Marcy froze, her heart pounding as the screams intensified and she could only imagine what was causing them. She looked to the door as if she could see beyond the curtain covering it and hoped it wasn’t one of the women from her camp but something told her it probably was, which made her heart ache.
She’d hated being dropped on this planet. Hated being taken as a plaything of a warlord but grew to accept it. Now, she’d do anything to have him march his bossy ass into camp, toss her over his shoulder and haul her back to his bed. But it wouldn’t happen. The camp was gone. Most of his men dead. Would he risk his life trying to rescue her? Her foolish heart hoped he did. It hoped and prayed but she didn’t hold out much hope. She was no one. Jorrick could replace her in an instant and probably would. She just hoped he didn’t.
“Most everyone does as commanded when tortured enough.”
“Torturing me will get you nothing but endless screaming.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I told you, I can’t do magic.”
He grew still again for long moments, then someone pushed through the curtained door. An alien who looked reptilian walked into the hut. He bowed to Allok and waited, nodding moments later as if he’d been given instructions. Could they communicate telepathically?
She assumed they could when the reptilian alien came straight for her. Marcy backed up as he approached, her heart starting to race. He grabbed her by one arm and she bit back a scream as he marched her to the doorway. The bravado she liked to believe she had fled as she was roughly hauled across camp. They headed for the trees. An anguished scream drew her attention to a man strung to wood planks in the shape of an X. He hung upside down, his skin sliced in so many places, his blood ran freely down his limbs. She turned away.
The pits held a stench she smelled long before they reached them. The scent of bodily waste, sweat, and vomit filled the air and grew stronger as they hiked through the trees. As she imagined, the pits were just that. Holes dug into the ground and covered with a crude wooden grate. An alien standing guard slid the grate aside and the one holding her pushed her forward, the grip he had on her arm the only thing keeping her from falling in.
“Choose.”
She looked up at him. “Choose what?”
“Choose someone.”
This pit held nothing but females. “Why?”
His hold on her arm tightened as he shook her. “Because you were told to do so!”
She said nothing else and looked down into the pit. There were so many. Marcy had thought Jorrick was a barbarian most of the time but he was downright civilized compared to Allok. Jorrick hadn’t treated the females in his camp cruelly. They were given clean clothing and a wooden floor to sleep on, allowed to bathe and even though they ate the scraps left over from the meals, she’d never heard a single complaint of hunger. These pitiful creatures were half starved, caked in dirt and whatever else lingered on the floor of the pit.
The faces looking up at her were unfamiliar. She had no idea why he was making her choose one of them but when they all shifted, the one in the corner lifted her head up. It was Dawn. Her heart thumped as she lifted her hand and pointed a finger at her. “That one.” She gave Dawn a tiny smile even though the girl had never been friendly to her. “I know that one.”
The alien holding her pulled her back from the edge of the pit. “You heard her,” he said. “She has made her choice.”
Marcy wouldn’t consider Dawn a friend by any means. She was rude and downright hateful most of the time but if she could help her out and afford her some form of comfort, then she would. All they had on this stinking planet was each other.
Dawn was pulled from the pit. She wasn’t as dirty as the others had been. Marcy wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the hut talking to Allok but judging Dawn’s still halfway clean clothing, it wasn’t long.
Dawn’s eyes were wide when she looked over at her, fear etched onto every inch of her face. The guard who held her turned and marched her back to Allok’s hut, leaving Dawn by the pit. Allok stepped outside, the look on his face as cruel as it had been earlier and when he nodded his head at someone behind her, she heard Dawn scream.
Marcy’s heart stuttered in her chest and she looked over her shoulder, staggering and tripping over her feet when Dawn was pulled away from the edge of the pit and held still by three of the ugliest brutes she’d seen so far, all of them ripping at her clothing. She was stripped bare and tossed from one to the other, their laughter drowning out Dawn’s screams. When one of them grabbed his pants and pushed them down his hips, his erection springing into the air, the other two grabbed Dawn’s legs and pulled them wide. Marcy sucked in a breath and screamed, “No!” as he walked between her legs and grabbed her by the hips
She turned to Allok, struggling in her captor’s hands, fear making it hard to breathe. “Please, don’t do this!”
“It is done.” Allok smiled, the smug expression on his face telling. He enjoyed inflicting pain.
There were so many things to hate on this world but seeing Dawn and knowing what she was about to endure would go down as the most horrific thing she had knowledge of. Tears filled her eyes as she was hauled back into the hut and pushed hard enough she lost her footing and fell. She didn’t try to stand. Her chest ached as if she’d been kicked, Dawn’s screams slowly dying as the laughter of those in camp grew. What had she done? Her tears clouded her vision until everything was a blurry, watery slash of color. She hadn’t laid a finger on Dawn but she was responsible for the atrocities being done to her. She’d pointed her out. Selected her so those foul creatures could—
Marcy let out a choked sob, those tears she’d been holding on to falling down her cheeks when she closed her eyes. She bit her lip and silently cried, begging Dawn to forgive her even though she knew she couldn’t hear her.
She didn’t know how long she’d sat there on the floor begging for forgiveness she knew she’d never receive but the weight of someone staring at her brought her head up. Allok stood in front of her. He bent his knees, stooping to be eye level with her. “You do not demand things of me, witch. You may have Jorrick under your spell,
but I will not fall prey to your magic so easily. Now,” he said, cupping his bent fingers under her chin to raise her head. “Let’s start over, shall we?” He smiled, the cruelty she’d seen earlier still there. “What do you need to give me what I want?”
He still thought her capable of magic? The tears still rolling down her cheeks increased. If he allowed his men to torture and rape in order to get her to do what he asked for, then they were all doomed. Their only hope was Jorrick. Somehow she had to find him and beg him to come get the others. If he didn’t, they were all as good as dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took the entire night and half the day of running to make it to the red mountains. Jorrick’s muscles screamed as he stopped long enough to catch his breath. A quick look for any signs that someone was living nearby showed nothing. The sky was clear of smoke. Not a sound could be heard except the rustle of tree limbs and the occasional call of an animal.
He uncorked the top of his water flask and drank long and deep from it, then capped it and stared at the mountains in the distance. He was almost there.
It was midday when movement in the trees drew him to a stop. To his left, a wall of glistening red rock ran for as far as he could see and seemed to reach into the clouds. The trees here were thick and there was a faint scent of smoke in the air.
It only took a few seconds to realize someone was watching him. He felt it like a living thing against his flesh and turned his head left, then right, scanning the trees for movement. He found it a few minutes later. Several people were scattered among the trees.
Jorrick turned a half circle, trying to find the others that were hiding. “I’m looking for a Draegon that goes by the name of Toren.” The tree limbs rustled again. “I have news of his mate’s friend, Mar-see.”
Long minutes passed before someone finally revealed themselves. A man who wore nothing but a small loin cloth stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. He was tall and nearly as thickly muscled as he was. The man crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Who are you?”
“I am called Jorrick. Tell Toren I need to speak to him.”
The man looked over his shoulder. There was a rustling in the trees a few moments later, then someone ran in the direction of the rock wall and disappeared into the trees. He stood there so long staring at the man in front of him that he began to wonder if his being so patient was a test. The sun had moved by the time the bushes started rustling and a man emerged. He walked into the small clearing and Jorrick straightened.
He’d heard tales of Draegon warriors, the fierce dragon-shifters who ruled this land before the Corporation claimed it and this man was one of them, but he was—more. Tattoos ran down both his arms and covered nearly his entire torso. Dark hair fell just above his shoulders and like Toren, this man had purple eyes, but there was a hardness about him that Toren hadn’t possessed.
Jorrick looked at the others scattered amongst the trees. Were all these men dragons? A look into their purple eyes said they were. The myths about them surviving were true. The Draegon were still alive and thriving.
“My mate told me you were coming.”
Jorrick looked at the others as they started to step out from behind the trees. “You’re not Toren.”
“No. I am Tharius. Toren is my brother.” Tharius looked at the men to his right, gave a slight nod of his head and several of them turned and headed back into the trees. “What brings you? Claudia sensed that something would happen but could not see what it was.”
“My—” Jorrick paused. What was Mar-see to him? His captive? His mate? He’d not publicly put a label on their relationship. Had feared doing so, truth be known, but now? “My camp was attacked by the warlord Allok and my mate, Mar-see, has been taken. Toren’s mate and my Mar-see are friends. I came to request—”
“No.”
Jorrick stared at him incredulously. “No? I didn’t even finish.”
“It does not matter. We owe nothing to this world and nothing to you. Leave and never come back.”
Tharius turned and started walking away. Jorrick stared at his retreating back, the tension he’d felt earlier turning into anger at his dismissal. Had the Draegon not had the ability to shift his form and kill him where he stood, he would force him to help. The methods he used to make others do his will wouldn’t work with this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
Jorrick followed him, ignoring the others as they closed in on him. “Do not walk away from me, Draegon.”
Tharius stopped and turned, the smug look on his face morphing into one of anger as he faced him. “You do not order me—” He stopped talking mid-sentence and cocked his head to one side as if listening to something no one else could hear. His jaw clenched before his face turned red, his hands clenching into fists. He met his gaze again and blew out a breath, smoke curling from his nostril. A soft sound followed that Jorrick thought was a growl. “My mate says I cannot kill you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “She wishes to know what you’re willing to sacrifice for our help.”
What would he sacrifice? He stared at the Draegon. Toren’s brother was nothing like the dragon he’d met. Toren had been unafraid and protective but this one made the rules. He saw them carried out and as he stood there staring at him, Jorrick realized this Draegon was right. He owed him nothing but Toren owed him his life. His and his mate’s. He could have killed them both but hadn’t done so because of Mar-see. But this one? He was no one to him. He had no reason to help him. He was completely at his mercy—and he knew it.
His mate wanted to know what he’d sacrifice to get Mar-see back? He’d sacrifice everything for her. His position, his camp—his life. If he died trying to get her back, he’d do so happily without a single second of remorse if he knew she would be safe.
Tharius tilted his head again, the look in his eyes growing distant for a few moments before he focused his gaze back on him.
“My Claudia says your answer is the right one.”
“My answer?”
“She is a seer. I trust her judgment but that doesn’t mean I have to agree.”
Movement in the trees brought more voices and the dragon Jorrick had sought out stepped into the clearing. Unlike before, he wore clothing now. The Draegon nodded his head in silent greeting. “I never thought to see you again.”
“If I weren’t desperate, you wouldn’t have.” Before Toren could say anything else, Jorrick told him what he’d already relayed to his brother. Toren regarded him with more interest than Tharius had but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t going to help.
“We risk everything moving about on this world now.” Toren looked at the others gathered around. “I was released, collared with no ability to make fire but—” He looked up and Jorrick noticed the camera orbs hovering nearby. “Now,” Toren said, nodding toward the orbs, “they know I have been set free.”
And he’d led them straight to their home. If Mar-see weren’t in danger, he might have cared but at the moment, he didn’t. “If they know you are here, then there is no reason to deny me.” He looked at those standing around him. He counted at least seven but knew more were close by. “You have numbers enough to destroy any who come close to your home. Even if the Corporation knows you’re free, I don’t think they’ll act upon it.” He waved a hand at the dragon men watching their exchange. “How many more Draegon are here? Even if it is nothing more than I see now, you have enough to destroy half this planet.”
Toren and Tharius stared at one another. Jorrick knew without asking they were communicating in some way. When they turned to face him, Tharius met his gaze. “We cannot put the lives of our people on the line for one human female. Your request is denied.”
Jorrick opened his mouth to plead his case again but as one, every Draegon there turned and walked back into the trees. Everyone but Toren. “I am sorry,” he said. “Tharius outranks everyone. He is leader. What he says goes.”
Jorrick was left with nothing but the camera orbs hoveri
ng above as witness to his failure. He watched Toren disappear into the trees like the others and ground his teeth then turned back in the direction he’d come. He’d rescue Mar-see alone. If Allok wanted him dead, then so be it. As long as Mar-see was safe, he’d die honorably.
The sound of those harmed because of her would haunt her dreams. Marcy lost count of the people Allok had tortured throughout the day. Every one of them, raped and beaten because of her. Every time she told him she couldn’t do magic, he’d force her outside to pick someone else, and they’d suffer for it. She’d learned the first time not to pick someone she knew. Not that the torture of an innocent made her feel any better. After the first couple didn’t get Allok what he wanted, he’d forced her to stand there and watch. When she closed her eyes and refused, he made her pick from the men who had been captured with her. She was ready to babble some nonsense and pretend to do magic but was scared it would get them all killed when nothing happened. He still believed wholeheartedly she could perform magic.
When she’d continued to deny her ability and refused to perform his miracle, he’d tied her to the wall inside his hut and left her there. As prisons went, it was nicer than the one she’d had inside the arena. At least here the floor was clean, she was provided a designated bathroom area instead of having to sit beside the stench all day long.
There were still constant screams in camp. Her imagination was all she had to tell her what was happening and nothing she saw in her mind’s eye was good. She leaned back against the wall, her butt sore from sitting so long. One arm had been tied to a support beam on the wall, her muscles so stretched now she felt fatigued from doing nothing but having her arm elevated. Worry crept in the longer she sat there. The sky outside was darkening. Allok had given her until nightfall and it was coming on fast. He was going to demand she do something or her fate would be the same as the others only he’d use her first, then hand her off to the others, one by one, until she gave him what he wanted.
