Markon's Claim: A SciFi Shifter Romance (The Last Alphas of Thracos Book 2)
Page 6
Natalie clapped her hands like a whelp, two pink spots settling high on her cheeks. “Ooh, what other goodies did you bring me?”
Jorek looked puzzled for a moment, but then shrugged and lifted a piece of rough cloth to reveal all manner of items I’d never seen before. Clearly, Natalie knew what they were used for because she squealed and threw her arms around Jorek’s neck again.
Even though she was still dressed in the ugly uniform she’d worn on our hike, the outline of her curves was quite visible as they pressed up against Jorek. The temptation to tear his throat out came over me again, my beast begging to be set free.
This time I met Rikor’s stern gaze. Not a word was spoken between us, but the nearly imperceptible shake of his head spoke volumes. You’re the alpha of the Hill Warg. Don’t debase yourself by squabbling over a Terran female. Swallowing hard, I turned back to the reunited pair.
“You two have work to do, so we’ll leave you to it.” I hoped no one caught the quaver of bitterness in my voice. “See you tonight at the feast.”
As I walked off, I puzzled over this strange attraction I had to Natalie. Solan had once told me that, as a Terran, she didn’t have a fated mate. My reaction to her wasn’t intense or deep enough for me to think she was my fated. But it held a power over me I couldn’t deny.
As Thrane’s second in command, perhaps I could have indulged in my temptation, but as the alpha, I had to concentrate on the survival of my tribe, my species. That meant easing my tribe mates into the idea of uniting with the Valley tribe, and the feast was a good start.
Pushing aside the image of Natalie in my bed, I focused on the evening to come. If it all went well, maybe that would prove to everyone — including myself — that I could be a leader after all.
11
Natalie
After Jorek arrived, there was barely enough time to unload his sledge before it was time to get ready for the party. Not that I really wanted to attend — head down over one of Jorek’s microscopes testing samples was where I wanted to be — but I’d promised Markon that I would act as an ambassador for the Valley tribe. It seemed silly for me to do it instead of Jorek, but the first words out of his mouth when we were alone changed my mind.
“They really do live like animals here, don’t they?” he grumbled.
I’d only been in the Hill compound a couple of days, including the time I was their prisoner, but even I could see the changes in the place since Markon took over. The bleak, depressing military camp had quickly transformed into a living, breathing community.
Flowers bloomed in the previously barren boxes outside many of the huts, planted by the women after finally being released from the koshu. Children ran around in the commons, playing a Warg version of tag where ‘it’ was allowed to shift into a very tiny, very adorable beast. And most of the mens’ scowls had transformed into smiles. Sure, it had a way to go to match the Valley village’s laid-back mood and quaint charm, but they were working on it.
I said nothing, but my joy at seeing Jorek diminished. I forgot it all, though, the minute he started pulling out the equipment he’d brought from his lab. His real lab, as basic as it was. Flutterflies pinged around my insides at the prospect of finding a cure. The missing component had to be in one of our piles of plant life, it just had to be. And now we had the tools to find it.
I had to give Bandrin credit, though. As distraught as he’d been that I tossed out all his witchdoctor nonsense, he still stuck around, wanting to help. I had no idea what Jorek and I could possibly have him do, but I agreed, impressed with his sense of duty.
“Here,” he said, gliding into the hut with a long swath of silk. “You can’t go to a feast in that thing,” he said, waving a hand at my grey jumpsuit.
“Um…” I shot a look at Jorek, who was completely oblivious to my discomfort.
I liked the guy, but we were nowhere near the place where I could undress in front of him, despite how relaxed Wargs were regarding nudity. Bandrin winked at me.
“Jorek, my friend, there’s an unusual plant growing outside the hut. Have you seen it yet?”
Jorek looked up from the table he was furiously scrubbing, his eyes lighting up. “No. Show me, please.”
Ten minutes later, I walked out of the hut draped in the gauzy, cream-colored silk. My friend Yara from the Valley tribe had taught me how to swoop and swirl the stuff into intricate ‘dresses’. This design drew more attention to ’the girls’ than I was entirely comfortable with but I had an intense need to feel pretty. It didn’t hurt that taking out my braid had left me with long, wavy, golden locks.
Bandrin beamed when he caught sight of me. He nudged Jorek, who glanced up, then did a double take. His eyes skimmed my curves, but I couldn’t read the expression in them.
“You look different,” he finally said.
Different.
Huh.
When I walked into the midst of the festivities with Jorek and Bandrin, however, Markon’s reaction left little to the imagination. His jaw dropped and his pupils dilated so wide that his brilliant green eyes turned almost black. A fine sweat broke out on my brow as his gaze devoured me. The tip of his pink tongue poked out the side of his mouth as if he was catching some drool. There was no doubt that he liked what he saw, and he desperately wanted to see more.
Abandoning my escorts, I strolled up to him, feeling a bit like I was walking into a hungry wolf’s lair. Not once in my life had anyone looked at me that way. It woke a primal part of me I’d never known before, and I liked it.
I steeled my nerves and maintained eye contact. Every step closer to him kicked my own heat level up a notch until my skin itched with a need for him to touch it. I had enough control of myself to stop a couple feet away, even though my body yearned to press up against his.
“Thank you for bringing Jorek here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, my mouth dry as the desert on the other side of Thracos.
His lips pulled back ever so slightly, and I thought I heard a low snarl, but when he spoke, there was no menace.
“Anything I can do to help.”
We stood there, locked in each other’s eyes, until Rikor approached.
“Sir, it’s time for our guest to make her speech.”
Speech? What speech?
Markon snapped out of his daze and smiled. “Right. Yes. Natalie, it’s time to fulfill your duty as ambassador.”
The heat that had threatened to burn me alive only seconds earlier morphed into paralyzing fear. Put me in front of a group of other scientists and I could go on and on about plant biochemistry and the chemical processes used in their primary metabolism, such as the photosynthetic Calvin cycle, but this… I had no clue what Markon expected me to even say.
“Um, I thought coming to the feast fulfilled that duty,” I said, bile rising in my throat.
“Not quite,” Markon said, his stupid, mesmerizing eyes twinkling with mischief. “As the Valley’s ambassador, you need to tell everyone what you’re doing here and stress the importance of uniting the tribes.”
“Oh, that’s all, is it? I just have to explain why altering their entire paradigm is the only way your species will continue to be extant?”
Markon raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what those words mean, but…yes.”
Shit.
There was no way he would let me out of this, I could see it in his amused eyes. I reached a shaky hand for the wooden cup Markon held and tipped the contents down my throat. The reet spirits burned like flames, but the drink helped calm my jittery nerves. With a grimace and a deep breath, I glared at his wide, muscled back as he led me onto a makeshift platform in the center of the commons.
“Ever since the Great Split,” Markon shouted, quieting the crowd instantly, “our species has struggled to produce female whelps. This crisis has not only affected the proud and honorable people of the Hill tribe, but also our cousins in the Valley.”
An angry-looking man standing up front snorted his derision. Markon
gave him a dark look that shut him down.
“As you know, the Terran Natalie has agreed to help us in our quest to find a solution to our shared epidemic. Assisting her is our own shaman, Bandrin, and one of our Valley cousins, Jorek.”
The seething Warg barked again.
“Strabo, enough,” Markon warned in a cool but firm tone. The man complied but the way he crossed his arms in a huff show exactly what he thought of all this.
“Now, Natalie would like to address you all.”
Liar!
I half-expected the crowd to applaud, but they just stared at me. I stepped forward and tried to smile, but my lips could barely quiver into what felt like a grimace. My heart thumped in my chest and I was pretty sure I was about to pass out. But a reassuring smile from my new friend Teema pushed me forward.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your village,” I started, staring out at a sea of faces that were either blank or suspicious. “I just wanted to let everyone know that the Valley tribe are just as eager to solve your fertility problem as the Hill tribe. That’s why they sent me to help find it.”
“Spy,” hissed the man in front, Strabo. I tried to ignore him.
“My friend Jorek and I are trying to, um…” I wasn’t sure how to say it in layman’s terms. “We need to find a medicinal herb or plant that will mix with reet in a way to help you all have female babies.”
That was as simple as I could make it, but it seemed everyone understood. Women looked excitedly at each other and their mates, and the men appeared almost hopeful.
“Yeah? What then? The Valley scum raid our lands for the stuff and keep it for themselves?”
Strabo’s accusation turned those hopeful looks into worried frowns. Now I understood why Markon didn’t like him.
“No, Mr. Strabo. Once the tribes unite—”
“Unite?!” he interrupted, then turned to the crowd. “Do you believe this? An alien interloper is trying to find a cure so the Hill tribe and Valley scum can live in peace forever. Right!”
A few of the older Wargs mumbled in agreement. This was turning ugly. I was pretty sure inciting a riot hadn’t been in Markon’s plans for my little speech.
“I swear to you—“
“We’re supposed to take the word of an alien? I say we give her the bite and turn her now, then we’ll find out what the truth is!”
In the blink of an eye, Strabo shifted to his beast form, a gigantic black-furred monster twice as big as a wolf. He snarled, baring his needle-sharp fangs, and his cold, black eyes locked onto me like a laser. When his feet left the ground in a powerful leap, I closed my eyes, unable to watch as my excruciating fate hurtled toward me.
12
Markon
Back when we were whelps, Strabo was always a little troublemaker, constantly picking on male whelps younger than him — including me — and pulling mean pranks on the female whelps. His father, a bitter man who’d lost his mate during childbirth, never lifted a finger to stop his son from bullying others — although the bruises on Strabo’s face were evidence that his father lifted his hand to him plenty.
My father, the alpha of the Hill tribe at the time, punished Strabo’s cruel father many times for beating his son, but the abuse continued until my father finally banished the Warg. As much as Strabo hated his father, he wailed like a newborn the day he walked out of the village. It was the last any of us saw of him. The man never even looked back.
After that, Strabo lived with another family, but his behavior grew worse. Eventually, my brother administered a bad enough beating for him to stop harassing me, but he continued to be a malcontent in general. No matter what happened in our tribe, good or bad, he’d grumble about how my father, Thrane or now I screwed it up or would screw it up. Nothing made him happy.
I’d always counseled Thrane to take it easy on Strabo. “He’s had a hard life,” I’d say. To which Thrane would reply, “He’s lucky he still has a life.”
As much compassion as I had for him, though, the moment I saw him draw his beast out to attack Natalie, I agreed with my brother. Acting on pure instinct, I released my own beast, urging the shift to go faster. He already had a head start.
Why is this taking so long?!
By the time his meaty paws left the ground in front of the platform, I was in the air, heedless of the fact that I was only half-shifted. My only concern was reaching him before he reached Natalie. If he harmed her…the thought sent me and my beast into a fury.
Our bodies collided mid-air, just inches from where Natalie stood, perfectly composed with her eyes closed. We landed in the dirt next to the platform in a whirling mass of fur, teeth and claws. I wasn’t even sure if my fangs had sprouted yet when I sunk my teeth into the back of his neck. His howl of pain filled me with indignant satisfaction.
My beast had joined the fray in full, and it was pissed.
Strabo twisted around, trying to shake me, but I held on tight, with my fangs and my claws. His jaws snapped wildly over both shoulders, doing his best to reach me, but failing miserably. Only when he accidentally rolled into the edge of the platform did I lose my grip.
Scrambling to regain my feet, I stared silently into Strabo’s panicked eyes as we circled one another. He barked and growled and snarled, spittle spraying everywhere and blood spattering into the dirt with little puffs of dust.
Exhaustion was setting in. I could see it in the quivering muscles in his shoulders. Soon he’d be forced to either make one last attempt at beating me, or lie down in the dirt and give up. A smart Warg would have seen that, not only was I completely uninjured, but that my rage would fuel me for a long time.
Strabo was not smart.
I spotted the way his left haunch tensed and knew where he’d attack before he probably did. Lunging low, I shot under him as he leaped high. Flipping around on my back, I kicked hard with my hind legs, sending Strabo flipping through the air.
He landed with a thud halfway across the commons, surrounded by crowd of his tribe mates who were more than tired of his bad behavior. I didn’t even have to stalk over to him and clamp down on his throat until he surrendered — they’d make sure he didn’t cause any more scenes.
Shifting back, I slung my wrap around my hips and hopped onto the platform. Natalie stood stock still, gawking at me in shock. I brushed the gentle waves of yellow hair away from her face and searched every visible inch of her. No injuries.
“Are you okay?” I asked, her silence worrying me.
She nodded, eyes still wide. Then she glanced behind her, where Jorek stood like a statue, also wide-eyed. I couldn’t be sure — it all happened so fast — but I was almost certain he hadn’t moved a muscle during the entire fight. Not even to pull Natalie back from the edge of the stage. When she turned back to me, I knew she’d seen it, too.
Somewhere in the haze of consciousness, I heard music start up. It brought the rest of the world back into focus. I glanced in the direction of the music to see Rikor standing near the musicians. He gave me a curt nod.
Good man.
We hadn’t had music in so long I’d nearly forgotten what it sounded like. The upbeat tempo matched the rapid beat of my heart, and the relief and joy I felt that Natalie hadn’t been hurt.
Grinning down at her, I bowed low, both fists held together in front of my face. I looked up at her hopefully but she only blinked. Maybe she didn’t know this tradition.
“This is how Wargs ask another to dance,” I explained.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, snapping out of her stupor. “Well, how can I say no to the man who just saved my life?”
Wrapping my hands around her luscious waist, savoring her softness, I carefully lifted her off the platform, slowly letting her body slide down mine until she found her footing. The eyes of the crowd burned into my back as I led her to where four old-timers plucked and pounded and banged on whatever makeshift instruments they’d scrounged up. One lent his warbling voice, which scared a flock of greenjays from the canopy above.
At her wince, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to a quiet spot behind the koshu. Every inch of my skin that touched hers screamed for more, and setting her down gingerly on a bench carved from a log was torture.
“I’m fine, Markon,” she insisted, but that didn’t stop me from taking her bare foot in one hand while I gently probed her ankle with the other.
“It’s nothing, I just landed the wrong way. Really.”
Only when her fingers feathered across my brow and down the side of my face, did I look up. The softness in her gaze made it seem as if this was her first time seeing me. Really seeing me.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her fingers lingered at my neck. “No one’s ever…I mean, my sisters are the only other…not even my parents…”
Anyone listening wouldn’t have known what she meant, but I did. My heart ached for her that, aside from her sisters, I was the only one to ever defend her. She deserved that and so much more.
Skimming my hands up her shapely calves, I wedged my fingers between her knees and eased them apart. She opened to me willingly, sucking in a breath of air, but never letting her gaze waver from mine.
I longed to follow the curve of her exposed thigh until I could go no farther but first I needed to taste her mouth. I’d come so close to crushing my lips to hers the other day, but the timing felt wrong. This felt so right.
Kneeling between her thighs, I pulled her forward until I felt her wet heat against me. My eyes closed in bliss, savoring the sensation of my hardness pressing into her softness, with only two flimsy scraps of silk separating us.
Her breath caught in her throat, drawing my attention to her slightly parted lips. Her delicious, full lips that just begged to be kissed.