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Tamed: A Prison Planet Romance (The Condemned Series Book 4)

Page 30

by Alison Aimes


  “No magic.”

  Grif’s hold tightened. “What did he say? If he’s saying he wants you back, you better be telling him he can go fuck himself. You’re mine.”

  She hid a smile. Squeezed him tight. Grif had done his part. Now, it was her turn.

  Ramm looked even more confused.

  “You have all been told lies.” She shouted so all the pack could hear.

  Ramm shook his head, his doubt clear. “They have used black magic on you.”

  “They have only shown me the truth.” She raised her hand and touched Grif again, straight over his heart. “Truth. My touch does not cause suffering.”

  Ramm staggered back.

  “Truth. There are Others who are good and kind and brave, just like among pack. There are Others who did not know we were here and who seek peace and the chance to trade and work together against those who would wish both groups harm.”

  The whispers grew.

  “Truth. Others cannot be wiped from this planet with a few more glowing spears. There are thousands of them and more arrive every rotation. Going to war with them will only hasten the end of the pack.”

  “Lies!” Talg found his voice. “Lies from a traitorous Gazi whore.”

  She turned on him. “I am not the one leading my people to doom. I am not the one so twisted by hate that I cannot see that my grief and rage has corrupted everything. You are leading the pack to extermination.”

  “What I see is a traitor who has brought the enemy to the heart of our village.”

  “You think only of yourself and your pain.” She turned to Ramm and the others. There was no reaching Talg. It would be up to the pack to change. “Talg wants this war for revenge. He is not thinking of what is best for you.”

  “Enough!” Talg’s face was a mask of rage. “Kill them both. Now!”

  A brief hesitation by the pack, where once they’d jumped to do his bidding.

  Talg noticed. His voice not quite as thick with self-importance as he found himself forced to explain himself for the first time. “He is a monster. Of course he can withstand her touch. He is an abomination like her.”

  “Then explain this?” Slipping from Grif’s hold, she launched forward, slamming her hand against Talg’s chest.

  Shock darkened the male’s stare.

  She doubted it had ever crossed his arrogant mind that she might strike out at him. He’d been the aggressor and abuser for so long, it had never occurred to him she could turn the tables.

  A wail of horror from the onlookers.

  Even his guards drew back, roaring with despair as they waited for their leader to collapse to his knees, his blood to boil, his flesh catch fire.

  Except it never happened.

  Spear raised to defend his leader, Ramm halted in midstrike.

  Shock crackled in the air.

  First, a Gazi had dared to cast off her anazi and challenge their leader.

  Then an Other had strode into their midst, called for peace, and survived a Gazi’s touch.

  Now their leader had been marked by the same Gazi and remained unharmed. His decree proven untrue right in front of their eyes.

  Grif was right. Sometimes actions were required over words.

  The pack’s ordered world was forever altering. Crack after crack forming in their unquestioned allegiance to Talg and his lies.

  Silence descended.

  “Now you know. No death. No curse.” She spoke to them all. “Talg has told many lies. His hate for Others poisoned him and all of us. Don’t let him destroy the pack. Let the Other females go. These Others mean you no harm, but they will fight if necessary. They have weapons and they have training. Negotiating a deal for peace is your best hope.”

  “Lies. Blasphemy from a Gazi whore!” Talg’s booming voice tried to drown her out. “There will be no peace. Ever. You will pay for challenging me.”

  He seized a glowing spear from the closest guard and, pushing past the male, raised it high, aiming for her.

  In the next heartbeat, Grif slammed Talg to the ground, his rope circled tight around the pack male’s throat.

  The pack wailed.

  Grif slammed his boot onto the leader’s back and cinched the rope tighter. “Tell them the only reason he’s not dead is because of you.”

  She spoke fast.

  “Tell them the pack has given me the most precious gift I could have imagined and, because of that, I have not ground their leader to dust, but that gratitude only extends so far.”

  The roar of his words rumbled through the camp like thunder. “Tell them that because of you I have come in peace, but if they even breath in a threatening manner in your direction again my patience will end and I will wipe them from the fucking planet. Tell them you are mine and I will always protect and cherish what belongs to me—and they better do so, too.”

  It was hard to speak over the trembling in her voice. His words might be harsh and violent, but they were beautiful to her. Grif had always given her everything she never knew she wanted and now, again, he did just that.

  “Tell them either Talg agrees to peace, orders the immediate return of the females, and starts treating you with respect, or he dies here and now.”

  He stopped speaking. She finished soon after.

  There was a moment of silence as the echoes of their combined words faded.

  Nayla held her breath. All eyes fell to the pack leader.

  “Agreed.” Talg’s assent was a barely discernable snarl, but it was heard by all.

  Low murmurs.

  Talg had always pushed for death before dishonor, especially when it came to dealing with Others. Now, however, when it was he who was threatened, he chose another route.

  Another crack in Talg’s seemingly impenetrable power.

  Ramm moved forward, his gaze dark with shock, disgust, and fear as he stretched out his hand to help Talg stand.

  This had to be hard for them all. For so long they had followed someone they assumed was as close to the Ancients as one could be. To discover he was nothing more than a weak, bitter male must be hard, indeed.

  Grif stepped back, releasing his rope.

  Freed, the snarling leader batted Ramm’s hand away, stumbling to stand. Nayla could hardly believe this was the same male who had terrorized her for so long.

  Only too late did she see the dart in his hand. The same kind she had used on the Others who attacked her.

  “You will never escape your destiny!” Talg’s hand barreled toward her.

  “No!” Grif shoved her aside—putting himself in the pack leader’s path.

  Her heart stuttered as she fell, her body twisting, hands out to try and reach Grif, knowing the instant the dart pierced his skin it would bring death.

  Grif’s gaze locked with hers, a farewell before they’d even begun. “I love you.”

  Talg crumpled at his feet, his hand with the dart never reaching Grif.

  Ramm stood behind the leader’s body, a glowing spear in hand.

  48

  Shock, then horror, ripped through the pack.

  Ramm had killed Talg.

  The warbling traditional grief cry that should have pierced the air, did not.

  A heavy silence coated the stillness instead.

  Grif shoved to his feet. He grabbed for her as she launched herself at him.

  Only Ramm appeared as stoic as before, his gaze locked on Grif. Perhaps he was simply in shock. With a single act of rebellion, he had transformed the pack’s destiny. “Mave tarish dlakim?” Ask your male if the deal still stands?

  She was too stunned to do anything but obey, repeating the request to Grif.

  Wrapping her tighter in his hold, he nodded. “Tell him yes. But there will be no more second chances. Tell him that you are under my protection. Anyone who tries to harm you will be killed.”

  She repeated his answer, but then asked Ramm a question of her own. “Whashe?” Why?

  Ramm did not need clarification. “I do not know if the An
cients will judge my actions as just, but I cannot regret what has been done. I…” he looked away, “I never agreed with many of Talg’s decisions, but he was leader.” He shook his head. “I did not ask the questions I should have. I did not listen to my doubts. I will have to live with that cowardice, and what it has cost me.” He looked around. “Cost us all.”

  Nayla’s heart bled for him. “You are a male of honor.”

  The tip of his ear twitched, the only indication of the well of emotion behind his somber stare. “I do not know what is truth, but I do know this. Talg always said the Others were savages. Good for nothing but death. But this one not only pushed for peace, he was willing to give his life for you. That is a bond between pack and Other we never imagined was possible. Like so much else today, we have seen with our own eyes something new and miraculous.”

  Awe whispered through her. She had always known that what she and Grif felt for each other would reshape them for the better. She had not realized their love would alter the fate of so many others, as well.

  For a Gazi who had always wanted to matter, it was a heady realization.

  “Your Other’s act of courage showed me I could do no less.” Ramm stared down at his ex-leader’s body, his scowl deepening. “Talg stood in the way of this path.”

  Grif had found a way to keep his promise to her, after all. Thanks to his act of courage and love, there would be no bloodshed. Instead, there would be peace.

  Ramm turned to address the fearful pack. “This rotation we make a different choice. We forge a new way. Anyone who disagrees or who seeks to challenge my rule, do so now.”

  Silence. A few hunters shifted their weight, their grips on their spears tightening, but no one stepped forward. Ramm would make a better leader than Talg ever had.

  “The Others will keep their word, pack leader.” She used his new title, a confirmation of what he’d just won.

  Ramm nodded.

  Grif shifted beside her, his tension growing with every moment that the exchange between her and Ramm continued.

  “You could rejoin pack. Serve as go-between.” The new pack leader’s usual blank expression wavered slightly and, for an instant, she saw the same male who had given her the spear and words of hope, the one who had looked at her with longing. “It would be an important position.”

  She appreciated what he offered. Greater respect and the chance to join the pack in some capacity. More than she had ever dreamed was possible before Grif. Except now she knew so much more awaited her.

  “I will not rejoin pack.” She hurried on as the male’s skin flashed red. He might be a better leader than Talg, but he was still pack. He still thought of her as Gazi, and he would only tolerate so much. “With your blessing, though, I will serve as translator and negotiator and look out for pack concerns.”

  His frown lessened. “This is acceptable.”

  “What’s he saying?” Grif had had enough of waiting.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malin and the others freeing the missing females from the pens, Lana at the head of the charge. With a cry, the dark-haired female ripped the anazi off one of the females. Zale swept another into his arms. One by one, all were freed. Soon to be reunited with their friends and families.

  It would never erase what she had done, but it was a start in the right direction.

  Behind Ramm, the pack shifted restlessly. The presence of so many Others moving freely in their midst only added to their strain as the suns disappeared behind the horizon and darkness crept closer.

  Ramm grunted her way again.

  “He says it is past time for us to collect the females and go.” She smiled up at Grif. “But that I should come back to trade food for metal soon.”

  “Tell him, where you go, I go, too.” He hauled her close, nuzzling her neck in the pack form of affection, a claiming all of its own. “You will never be alone again.”

  They were two enemies from different worlds, swirling though the Void like dust, molded by an indifferent, harsh universe, who fit together perfectly.

  Epilogue

  “Tell me what I need to know and there’ll be no unnecessary suffering.” Grif stalked toward the foot of the bed.

  Life on Dragath25 was war. Combatants all around. One couldn’t just nicely ask the enemy to give up information or believe that a scowl and a threat would do the trick.

  Unless that target was his beautiful mate.

  Of course, she thought they were just playing per usual. She had no damn idea.

  “I always like your consequences.” Restrained to the bedposts, arms and legs spread wide, she stared up at him, a feast of golden skin, wild hair, and, best of all, iridescent kitten eyes filled with unabashed need and trust.

  Even after he’d surprised her by scooping her up early from tonight’s settlement party, hauling her to their bed, pulling out his ropes, and tying her up tight.

  In his view, there were too damn many get-togethers anyway, but his mate cherished them so he sucked it up. But tonight, he’d drawn the line.

  Tonight, he was taking Nayla for himself.

  Tonight, he was finding out what she’d been keeping from him.

  “Rule number one, you’re allowed to scream my name.” Circling to the side, he trailed the end of his rope over her belly and up the valley between her golden breasts.

  Her skin flushed pink.

  “Rule number two,” he circled the braided end over one pebbled nipple. “You’ll give me your full attention.”

  “Always,” hips lifting, she arched toward his rope, “that feels so good. I love when you play me.”

  “And I just plain love you.”

  Just looking at her in their home, spread across their bed, made his cock hard and his chest tight, rousing the ferocious tangle of lust, protectiveness, and possession he always felt for her. Especially when he remembered how close he’d come to losing it all.

  She was his fucking everything.

  Every rock he’d hauled to give her a solid roof and walls, and most significantly, a place to call home, was worth the effort and time. He intended to be her shelter forever.

  He’d built her the largest home in the settlement, imbedding glowing danashe stones in the ceiling to make her feel more at home. Even before building their house, he’d made peace with Sharluff long enough to identify the ideal spot for their dwelling, a piece of land situated on an underground well. As a result, he’d turned one large room into a private waterfall shower, a favorite spot of theirs, and the definite envy of the rest of the crew.

  He’d traded with the pack so that Nayla could have her own glowing spear and as many soft pelts, pack powders, and pastes as she wanted. He never wanted her to go without again.

  Ryker complained about his extravagances often, saying he was giving the rest of them a bad rap. Malin appeared equally disgusted. Lana told the grumpy male he should be taking notes. Tyson just looked amused.

  Grif did not give a damn what any of them thought.

  What his female wanted, she got.

  That didn’t mean, though, that he was any less ruthless when it came to her.

  Especially when she was holding out on him.

  And, yes, maybe he was a little more tense than usual. The ghost had returned. No explanation. No clue as to why. Just a few scrapes on a rock, a faint wisp of smoke in the air, an extra spear—better than Bain could make—laid at the settlement perimeter. It had Grif on edge. Mostly because he didn’t know if he should be trying to kill the sneaky bastard, or thank him. But since no one could actually find him, it didn’t much matter anyway.

  Still, Grif doubted whatever was going on with Nayla had anything to do with that. Fact was, he couldn’t think of anything it could be—and it was making him crazy.

  “Rule number three, I’m going to ask you a question,” he dragged the rough edge of the rope up the inside of her arm, down the other side, around the curve of her breast, over the slopes of her ribs, to eventually skim back and forth at the
rise of her mons, “and I want an answer.”

  “Grif.” His name was a breathless demand and a protest. Her gaze half lidded as she writhed in her restraints.

  But he already knew she could handle him—and anything that came her way.

  His wild thing might look fragile, but she’d proven her strength time and again. She’d met face-to-face with the missing females and apologized for what she’d done. She’d grieved with them over Cam’s death and accepted Melody and Hope’s anger over their mother’s prolonged separation.

  She’d returned with him to the settlement to confront a sea of strange Others and a new way of life, knowing she’d always be a little different. She’d embraced new food, new scents, new behaviors and expectations.

  Grif had been with her every step of the way, holding her when the guilt threatened to become too much or Talg’s ghost rose up to whisper doubts in her ear.

  Mostly, though, he’d just stood by her side and watched in awe as she proved herself to be worlds away from the female who’d once been voiceless and unseen. She knew her worth now and she didn’t let her old wounds keep her from meeting each challenge and thriving.

  She’d spent a long time looking for acceptance and approval, but she’d found something else along the way: herself. He felt privileged to have a front row seat.

  But since Nayla liked him fierce, monstrous, and a little intense, that’s how he stayed.

  “You’ve been holding out on me, beautiful. But that ends now.” He snapped the rope. A quick flick of his wrist. The braided end of the rope danced across her clit.

  Her back arched, her arms straining against her bonds as her mouth fell open in a silent O.

  “Grif.” This time his name was a plea for more. His woman loved when he worked her with his ropes.

  “You like that, baby?” One knee hit the bed, then the other, the bed sinking under his weight as he straddled her hips, careful to keep his bulk off her.

  Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her temple. Another to the corner of her gorgeous mouth. Licked the valley between her breasts.

 

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