Struggling upright, she looked around, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t discover that she’d been tossed in with another male for breeding.
Relief flooded her as she spied the giant, yellow skinned warrior crouched near the door.
It was short lived.
As soon as he turned to look at her, despite the dim lighting, she knew it positively wasn’t Gaelen.
She sucked in a frightened breath, but even as her instincts urged her to scream she realized that that might be the absolute worst thing she could do.
* * * *
Nyles flicked a look over the female’s chalk white face and knew immediately, even though he had never seen a creature such as she before, that she was terrified.
Her eyes were stretched so wide that he could see white all the way around the pale colored centers and he could hear her panting breaths.
That did not surprise him, all things considered, but it damned well dismayed him.
He was ordered to breed her.
But he could not when she was so clearly against the idea.
Despite his vow to protect and defend all those weaker than him, however, and as much as he resented the Sheloni enslaving him, dying was not the way to avenge himself against them.
Especially not dying from being tortured ... as they were inclined to do whenever anyone defied them.
It would give them too much satisfaction and him none. They would not even be put out that they had lost a slave. They would simply return to Ach and take more.
On the other hand, a Hirachi warrior did not force an unwilling female into copulation. He wooed her with clever words and pretty trinkets and if she was favorably impressed she might consent.
And if they did not consent a warrior took himself off with whatever dignity he could summon.
Very likely the Sheloni would kill her, as well, if he did not attempt to breed her, though, and he did not want that on his conscience.
She was a pretty little thing—tiny—but clearly full grown—and he still was not certain he could convince his stick to work when she was not only not a Hirachi woman, but obviously unwilling.
How was he to convince her to be willing, though, when he was as certain as he could be that she would not understand anything he said?
And how much time did he have to even attempt to woo her to hand?
Not much, he was certain.
This was not for his recreation and entertainment.
They were fortunate the Sheloni didn’t simply throw them in an open pen with her tied down to receive and a line of possible donors waiting their turn.
Probably because they did not have that much imagination.
She seemed to calm down when he did not instantly leap up and try to mount her.
“Progress,” he muttered, looking her over assessingly. Finally, he patted his chest with one palm. “Nyles.”
Something flickered in her eyes.
She pointed at him. “Hirachi?”
He was startled. “You speak my language?”
She looked perfectly blank.
So much for that possibility. “Know Hirachi?”
Emma frowned. She didn’t recognize the other word. Finally, mentally shrugging, she nodded. “Hirachi Gaelen.”
Nyles’ heart skipped a few beats. That was not what he had hoped for. He knew a warrior named Gaelen, but he had doubts that this was the Gaelen she spoke of.
If it was, he had more to be concerned about that the Sheloni.
After a few moments, though, he supposed that meant that she had already been bred with one Hirachi.
She could have been bred a dozen times already with a dozen different males, however, and that still did not open a door for him. In fact, it might be harder to convince her, he thought, struggling with his revulsion of the entire process.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Must make baby,” he said slowly. “You understand?”
Emma didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but one word did sound somewhat familiar. She’d heard Gaelen use it when he was talking about the baby.
She didn’t make the mistake of thinking he was talking about her baby, though.
If he’d said baby, he was talking about breeding her.
She could be just jumping to an erroneous conclusion, but, based on the last few days, it was hard to dismiss that he was pointing out he had work to do.
She just hadn’t properly appreciated the fact that she’d known two of her breeders.
How lucky was that?
Chapter Twelve
“I can do this,” Emma muttered to herself. “He’s a handsome devil and clearly not mean or without decency or principles or he would’ve just jumped me right away and raped me.” Of course, she thought, it might just be that I don’t appeal to him.
She considered it and decided that was absurd. When a man wanted to screw he was often not too particular, maybe more often than not.
The Hirachi were a different species but they had a lot in common with human men from what she’d seen. Ditto the Satren. Of course, being ordered to service her had probably set everybody’s back up, but she was naked and available and couldn’t escape so that would’ve been added to the good column.
Maybe he was just waiting for her to go to sleep so he wouldn’t have to fight her for it?
She’d already had a nice nap, though, she thought wryly.
Bastards!
No thought as to whether it might kill her if they gassed her.
Because, she supposed, they just didn’t give a damn one way or the other.
She did feel like she’d been out a while, though, so was that just the strength of the gas? The amount she’d inhaled? Or had she been kept out so they could do something to her? Run tests?
That thought perked her up, but she realized almost immediately that they wouldn’t have dumped her on another male if they’d succeeded in breeding her.
Briefly, an odd sort of disappointment descended over her … directly behind the realization that she wasn’t carrying a baby by either Kadin or Gaelen.
And she probably wouldn’t get the chance at Hauk.
Because this guy was going to do it for her.
Maybe.
And she should hope so, because there was no damned telling how many males she’d be offered to if she didn’t get knocked up pretty soon.
And she’d have to wait until she did get preg before she discovered if they’d give Nye back to her or not and she felt sick to her stomach every time she allowed herself to think what he was going through and how abandoned he must feel.
He couldn’t possibly understand that she hadn’t left him because she wanted to.
Food was delivered while she was focused on her problems. Surprise flickered through her and she wondered if she’d been out a very long time or they fed the prisoners/slaves in this area at a different time.
The guy—Nyles—took the bread-like substance, divided it in half and held out a piece to her.
Emma studied him suspiciously for about five seconds, until it dawned on her that she was trapped in the tiny cell with him. He didn’t have to trick her. He could chase her around the cell until she dropped from exhaustion.
She got up and moved close enough to take the food and then settled uneasily an arm’s length away.
Her ass had scarcely made contact with the icy floor, however, when the outer door slid open with an order, in Sheloni, to get out.
Emma slammed the whole wad into her mouth since it instantly leapt to mind that the people outside might not be nearly as fair minded about the food as Nyles was—or ‘her’ guys.
It was so dry she thought she was going to choke to death and didn’t even have the time to stop to grab a few drops of water to help wash it down.
She was sorry she didn’t take the time when they emerged to the discovery that there was one of the Sheloni metal monsters waiting to pounce. It seized her by her neck and lifted her clean off her feet. She was too shocked
to struggle even though her instincts would have been screaming at her to do so, she was sure, and then the opportunity, if there ever was one, was lost. She felt an electric jolt hit the back of her neck from the collar and the lights went out.
Her last thought as she slid into blackness was ‘so this is death’.
The terrified cries of a baby brought her from the blackness.
Not ‘a’ baby. Nye.
She sucked in a sharp breath and jolted upwards, ready to fight.
Thankfully, since she was about as useless as she’d ever been in her life, there was no threat. Nye was lying on the floor next to her.
She scooped him into her arms, bursting into tears she couldn’t control while she struggled to calm him. “Shhh, baby. Hush. Mama’s here. Mama’s here.”
He didn’t quiet appreciably until he’d worn himself out. When he had, he sniffed and leaned away to stare at her.
Without recognition.
Then his lip rolled out and he howled.
Emma felt her own chin wobble, struggled to keep from bursting into tears all over again.
He’d forgotten her?
How?
It had only been a week—maybe two. She couldn’t be sure when there were no clocks, no sunrise or sunset, no routine to mark time, but she didn’t believe it had been long at all.
Could he just not remember because he was a baby? Or had they done something to him? Or did she just look so different he didn’t recognize her?
“I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry. I couldn’t help it. I tried to keep them from taking you away. Mama’s so sorry.”
He studied her as she spoke to him and abruptly surged forward and grasped her face between both hands and kissed her all over the face.
Well, slobbered.
It took all Emma could do to keep from crying with happiness then. “I’ve missed you so much, precious. So much.”
Snuggling him close, she rocked him until he finally fell asleep.
That was the first time she had the chance to really look at him and she felt a combination of rage and grief.
He was so thin! Poor baby! They hadn’t taken care of him like they should’ve!
She raged inwardly for a while, rocking mindlessly—thinking in short hand—a random thought here and there.
The stupid things just didn’t know how to take care of him, she decided after a while. They wanted him alive.
Was that why they’d abruptly yanked her from the breeding pen?
Maybe.
She didn’t care. She had Nye back and she was going to protect him with every fiber of her being from those bastards!
She looked at the ceiling when the baby woke, crying. “He needs food you stupid bastards! He’s a baby! He has to be fed every four or five hours. His little stomach won’t hold enough to keep him much longer.”
There was no response—at first—nothing, not verbal anyway. If a very short length of time, though, a bottle appeared through the access panel.
And food for her!
A little stunned, Emma wondered if she’d been out that long, but dismissed it and the gnawing hunger she’d begun to grow accustomed to. Taking the bottle, she sniffed it.
It smelled as repulsive as the ‘brew’ he generally ate and looked the same. She screwed the top back on and settled Nye in the cradle of her arms. He sucked suspiciously but then went to work with a will, draining the bottle so fast she knew he had to have been starving.
Poor little angel!
When he’d burped, he settled down and went to sleep again.
Emma looked at her meal longingly and finally just scooted across the floor to retrieve it since she couldn’t get up with Nye—he was too heavy—and she couldn’t bring herself to put him down.
Which was stupid. They’d just knock her out and take him if the mood struck, but it made her feel better to hold him close.
The food didn’t distract her long. She began to feel the aches and pain of her cramped position and the weight of the baby. The sleeping platform didn’t really hold a lot of appeal, though. It was as cold and uncomfortable as the floor and there was the risk, if she tried it, that she might lose her grip on the baby in her sleep and he would fall and get hurt. Finally, she just moved into the most comfortable position she could manage and drifted to sleep behind him.
She had no idea how long she slept, but she was awakened some time later by a shushing sound and discovered another bottle had been delivered. Grateful to the bastards, she took the bottle and, since she saw the baby had woken, fed him again.
It was the closest thing to a routine that she’d had since she’d been taken and she began trying to calculate the passing time by the feedings.
It was the second day when she felt ‘a presence’.
It sent a shiver down her spine when she’d searched the place and not seen any sign of anyone.
Trying to dismiss it as a hidden camera, she focused on the baby again.
He was staring at her—hard.
She stared back into his eyes and realized they weren’t actually focused on her even though he was staring straight at her.
Then she felt ‘it’ again, almost like something was inside her head.
‘Wid Nye?’
A voice just seemed to form in her mind so that she felt that she had actually heard the sounds even though she knew she hadn’t.
And almost instantly she had a blinding headache.
But she also realized it was Gaelen, somehow knew it was him.
Frowning, she carefully focused on the baby’s face. “Here. Yes.”
She felt a sense of relief—someone else’s. ‘Good. Ready. We come.’
* * * *
“You think she understood any of that?”
Gaelen glanced at Kadin with a touch of surprise and a lot of irritation. “Yes.”
Kadin looked like he wanted to punch him. Considering what had happened the time before, however, he restrained himself. “You did not … hurt her?” he growled. “Because I will kill you if you have harmed her.”
Gaelen struggled with his own temper. “I did her no harm.”
“You are certain?” Hauk demanded.
Gaelen released a long suffering sigh. “We have formed a connection.”
Hauk stared at him for a handful of seconds and then punched him right in the face.
Kadin caught the Hirachi, steadying him. “Not that I was not tempted to punch him myself, but it would not be wise to start a riot before we are ready to launch the operation.”
Hauk glared at him. “As if you have so much patience,” he growled.
Kadin shook that off as being unworthy of discussion. “You are certain that she is with Nye?”
Resentment flickered through Gaelen. He was no fool and, if anything, he had more of a stake than either of the others. Nye was High King of the Hirachi and Hauk was Satren and Kadin a mixed breed with no home world. Or, he supposed, split between three since he was both Satren and Hirachi and his mother had been an Earth woman, but he had no ties other than his bloodlines. “Nye is with mama. He told me and Emma confirmed.”
Kadin nodded. “We are as ready as we are likely to get, then,” he said grimly. “We will not have a better chance of taking the ship and protecting Emma and the King.”
* * * *
Emma frowned as she turned over the ‘message’ Gaelen had planted in her mind, wondering if she had understood. The ‘good’ coupled with the relief she had sensed seemed evident that it was just his response to the discovery that Nye had been returned to her and was safe—or as safe as he could be under the circumstances.
She was less certain of what he’d meant when he’d said ‘ready’ and ‘we come’.
It sounded like he was saying she should be prepared for an attempt to escape, but she couldn’t imagine what they had in mind or what they could possibly do—especially now.
Not that the situation wasn’t pretty much hopeless as far as she could see before the bastards had put t
he collars on them, but it certainly looked to her as if that was the final blow.
What else might he have meant, though?
And how would they find her?
It occurred to her after a little thought that she’d been unconscious, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t seen what had happened and maybe seen where she was taken. The doors opened off of the exercise yard, after all.
Well to all the cells she knew of.
Her heart began to thump a little faster with a combination of fear and excitement and hope.
Ready.
He’s said she should be prepared to move.
Well, she didn’t have anything to her name except baby Nye and she wasn’t about to let go of him, not even to go to the bathroom!
She wished she’d known before she’d given him the last bottle. She thought worriedly that she should have saved maybe half for him for later.
Damn it!
If only she’d gotten the heads up a little sooner!
She felt her nerves wind a little tighter and resolutely pushed everything from her mind that she could do nothing about. She had the baby. She could rest and then get up to stretch so she wasn’t too stiff to run if she had to, if she got the chance.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma braced herself. Minutes passed. An hour. The tension built until it reached critical mass and Emma got up to pace off some of her nervousness. Doubt surfaced. Questions crowded her mind.
She couldn’t hear anything. Absolutely nothing.
But then her heart was beating so hard it sounded like a drum in her ears.
She held her breath, straining, and thought she heard something, but she couldn’t identify what the sounds were.
Were they fighting? Still waiting for something to happen before they started?
Had Gaelen meant right away?
Tomorrow?
She got so winded from pacing and trying to hold her breath to listen that she settled again, focusing on calming herself.
Another hour passed.
Slowly, so slowly she didn’t even notice it, the tension leached from her until she began to grow drowsy.
She couldn’t decide whether it felt like natural sleepiness or not.
She got up and paced again, struggling to resurrect her readiness.
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