by Chloe Cox
She could see. Barely. She could see him, because he glowed, ever so slightly.
He was a huge Leonid, bronzed skin, white-blond hair, impossibly heavy shoulders hulked over his big body, his head bent down. He was covered in the shifting highlights of Leonid metal. Covered in Leonid chains.
Slowly, so slowly, his chains hissing in protest, he rose to his full height.
He was on the other side of the now dim basement, near the wall. There was a sort of bed behind him, other things. Empty syringes. But mostly there were chains. She wondered that this Leonid could move at all.
This was what Kragen was hiding?
A prisoner?
Andie was about to say something, anything to help her understand how Kragen could have done this, when the white-haired Leonid opened his eyes.
They blazed gold.
Andie couldn’t look away. They were hypnotic. Something, some tiny ancient forgotten voice in the back of her primitive brain, told her to run. Run fast. Run now.
This is a predator. You are the prey.
She said, “What are you?”
His voice rumbled through the floor to shake her very bones.
“Huuuungry,” he said.
Kragen was aware of every drop of blood he lost, every bit of damage to his internal organs, every little tear of flesh or burn to the nerves. But it was happening somewhere far away from his focus.
Andromeda.
He sensed her before he saw her. Smelled her.
Fear.
She was afraid.
By the time he reached the back of the warehouse, Andromeda was pushing, with all her might, on the door to the basement. It was still open just enough for someone of her size to slip through. He could feel what lay down in the basement. Could feel the waves of malevolent hunger roiling off of what had once been his brother, Rune.
Roaring, Kragen used his last ounce of strength to rush forward, slamming into the heavy door behind Andromeda. With a heavy, final thud, it shut tight.
Kragen did not hesitate. He grabbed the Leonid metal padlock in his bare hand and secured the chains around the door. In his weakened state, the Leonid metal seared his flesh with a hiss. It did not matter. None of it mattered.
She had seen.
Kragen turned from her, too angry, too sad, too filled with the sting of failure to trust himself at the moment. He let his big, burned, scarred hands rest on a rusting industrial shelving unit, propped against the wall, and focused on his wounds.
They were worse than he thought.
“You’re hurt,” she said, behind him.
“I told you not to go near the basement,” he said. Even his voice sounded far, far away, from somewhere in the land of the living. Kragen’s mind was somewhere else. He was still bleeding.
“I was looking for help,” she said. “I was looking for weapons.”
“You should not have gone down there.”
There was a pause. Kragen counted his breaths, and tried to calculate how long until he lost consciousness. If he did, he did not know if he would wake up again. Not without the healing help of his mate.
No. You will not claim her.
When Andromeda spoke, her voice had changed.
“Who is that, down there?” she asked him. And then, quieter: “What have you done?”
Kragen growled, but his legs betrayed him and he crashed to the ground, catching himself on his uninjured arm. Too much blood. So much blood.
“Oh my God,” he heard her say. “Kragen. You’re really hurt.”
Something in her voice made him turn his head. She was wincing. The bond was still getting stronger, and now his mate was feeling his wounds.
Unacceptable.
“What are you doing?”
Kragen ignored her, pulling himself up and reaching for the box where he kept a supply of syringes preloaded with triclosan. He had one in hand when he felt it.
Her hand.
His bare back.
Kragen’s body lit up with the presence of her kuma, like a dying battery hooked up to a power source. With a growl, he grabbed hold of the metal shelving unit and crumpled the supports in his hands. The need to plunge himself into her, over and over again, until the end of fucking time, was overwhelming.
He concentrated. Grabbed another syringe. Turned around, to inject himself in the leg.
Andromeda’s hand stopped him.
“Absolutely not,” she said. “You are not getting away with this. I am going to heal you, and you’re going to answer my questions.”
Kragen snarled his answer.
She silenced him another touch, this time her hand on his brutalized shoulder.
Kragen growled, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t. He looked at her small hand on his shoulder, her pale skin flushed even in the dim light. Her brown hair falling over her eyes, her goodness shining through it all.
For the first time in his life, he doubted his self-control.
15
Andie stared at her hand on Kragen’s ruined shoulder. Underneath her palm, his silvery skin had started to glow, and a warm current flowed where her body met his. She could feel it, working its way down her arm, across her shoulders, down into her very center. Her body was coming alive.
This isn’t ok, she told herself. You are not done with him. This is just so you can have a healthy, working Leonid to yell at.
Never mind that the thought of an injured Kragen made her sick to her stomach.
And the longer she touched him…
She watched in fascination as the light under her palm began to spread outward, over the massive bulk of his bloody shoulder, tendrils of it reaching down his injured arm, his wounded back. She couldn’t look away.
Neither could he.
“Lubcha,” he rasped.
“You still haven’t told me what that means,” she said. But she wasn’t really listening, even to herself. Andie’s eyes had found Kragen’s, and now her entire awareness was slowly shrinking, until all that was left was the place where they touched.
The current between them kept flowing. Kept filling her with liquid heat. It was almost unbearable.
And it wasn’t enough. Through the heat, the pull of the charge between them, she could feel his injuries. Kragen was really, really hurt. His breathing was uneven, his strong body racked with pain.
“I want to heal you,” she whispered.
“You do not know the cost,” he said.
“I don’t fucking care.”
With her free hand, Andie unzipped the hoodie she was wearing. A sound rumbled in Kragen’s chest as he looked at her breasts, barely contained in the tank top she was wearing underneath. It’s going to get a lot worse than that, she thought.
And she took his hand, and slipped it under her top, onto the soft skin of her belly.
Andie’s inner muscles fluttered under his touch, her eyes half closing at the jolt of pleasure that arced through her.
The current between them doubled. The pressure between her legs tripled. Kragen’s rumble became a growl.
She closed her eyes. It felt like they were spinning together, the rest of the world falling away, picking up speed until everything would fall apart…
With a snarl, Kragen yanked his hand away. Andie opened her eyes, ready to protest, and saw his face.
And then his giant hands were on her ass, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck. He crashed through the cramped hallway of his lair, tossing large pieces of furniture behind him as though they were made of paper, cracking the walls around him. In another moment she was flat on her back on his bed, her legs spread, her Leonid towering over her.
Andie moaned. The sudden break in contact was painful. She wanted him. Needed him.
He stared down at her with glowing, hungry eyes.
“I will not claim you,” he said. “I will not.”
Andie propped herself up on her elbows, angry all over again.
“Are you asking?” she
said.
All she wanted was Kragen on top of her. Inside her. And at this moment, she hated him for it.
Another snarl, his fangs exposed.
“You will know when I demand your submission,” he said.
When, she thought. Not if.
Her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her as she fought not to writhe, not to move. He didn’t need to know how much she needed him.
“You need me,” she reminded him.
“No,” Kragen growled, and he prowled onto the bed, his arms like silver cables, his eyes glowing white-hot. He rested his huge hands on her hips, then dug his fingers under the waistband of her sweatpants. “I need you to come,” he said.
In one motion, he stripped her of her sweatpants.
Andie had left her grandmother’s house in a hurry. She’d packed a bag, but she’d only thrown on the barest necessities. She didn’t normally wear underwear to sleep.
She was completely bare.
Andie held her breath. Her body was on fire, the mark on her breast burning brightly in the dim room. She was completely exposed.
Kragen stared down at her, breathing hard. The mark on his chest burned the same white-hot color, pulsing in time with hers. She could feel it…everywhere. In every cell, every nerve, every muscle fiber. The surface of her skin danced with it, her nipples hardened under her tank top, her pussy ached.
If he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to lose her fucking mind.
Andie took a deep breath, and looked into his glowing eyes, the molten silver transfixing her like it always did. But there was more there. He wasn’t touching her anymore, but the bond between them flared high and hot, and suddenly she saw the struggle going on inside him. Felt it. Through her mark, she felt it.
The Dom Kragen was fighting the Leonid beast within him. The Dom who promised not to claim her, who would not hurt her. Fighting the beast who was mad with hunger, who would kill to bury himself in her.
The thought made Andie groan, and she knew, right then and there, that if he demanded her submission, she would do it. She didn’t have that self-control. She wasn’t a Dom.
She was a sub.
She was his sub.
All she wanted was to please him.
Kneeling over her, Kragen reached down, and wrapped a huge hand around each of her ankles. His eyes never left hers.
“Remove your remaining clothing,” he ordered. “Now.”
Wordlessly she shimmied out of her hoodie, pulled the tank top over her head. She was naked now.
Naked, throbbing, desperate. Andie knew there was a reason for this, knew she was supposed to actually be accomplishing something with this, but it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was the Leonid who could claim her at will.
Kragen pinned her with that gaze, one more time. And then he slowly began to spread her legs.
Andie dug her fingers into the mattress beneath her as she felt herself spread, the hot, slick wetness between her legs exposed to the cool air. Exposed to him.
She bit her lip and moaned.
“Female,” Kragen snarled. His upper lip curled over his fangs while his eyes blazed, and for a second the beast flashed across his face. Then the Dom returned, and he was in iron control.
Andie writhed, twisted in the goddamn wind, turned on past the point of sanity with no relief. What was he doing? He needed to heal. She needed to heal him.
No. He’d said he’d needed her to come.
“Female,” he said again, “you will pleasure yourself for me. Right now.”
Andie’s eyes opened wide, but she couldn’t move. She suddenly knew she couldn’t even avert her gaze without his permission. And she’d never, ever done this before.
She’d never let someone watch her. She’d never been that vulnerable. Another growl rumbled in Kragen’s chest, and she knew this was not negotiable. This was what he demanded: all of her. Not just her body, but her pride. Her most private moments.
All of her.
“Now,” he growled.
The mark on her breast throbbed a rhythm as she moved her fingers between her legs. The lightest touch was almost too much, and she gasped as she grazed her clit, and then moaned as she felt how wet she was for him. Kragen watched her like a starving animal. As she started to circle lightly, delicately, around her clit, unable to take more than that, she saw their marks pulsing hot in time, like a shared heartbeat, and it pushed her even higher.
Every stroke, every touch, she could feel something flow between them. She felt him getting stronger. She felt herself going higher and higher.
She started to shake, her thighs shuddering as her pelvis jerked up and down, her body not built for anything this powerful. She grabbed at the sheet, at the mattress, at anything with her free hand, and suddenly knew what she needed.
“Touch me,” she begged. “Please.”
Kragen’s eyes blazed, his chest heaved. Then with a grunt he threw one of her legs over his shoulder, one hand coming up to grab her hair and expose her neck, the other moving between her legs.
And then he was inside her, his finger in her pussy, his fangs in her neck.
Andie screamed.
Ruthlessly he drew an orgasm from her body as he held her down and drank her kuma, his huge finger stroking her g-spot as his palm covered her clit with pressure in rhythm, in time, with the glowing circle on her breast that marked her as his. She shuddered into a wave of convulsions, her back arching, her body giving up anything and everything he could take from her as she screamed his name into the dark.
She didn’t have words anymore. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. She lay back, slicked with sweat, her awareness orbiting around the sensation of his finger inside her.
Andie cried out, softly, when he removed it. Then she saw his face.
Kragen looked down at her like he was going to devour her. All at once she saw the tortured beast in his eyes again, and she thought, This is it. Doesn’t matter what we said. He’s going to claim me, and I’m going to submit.
And then with another growl he lifted her hips to his face and drank directly from her pussy.
Kragen had her orgasming again, screaming, in what felt like a moment, in what lasted for a lifetime.
16
Kragen watched his female shudder with pleasure, her orgasm ripping through her like a force of nature, and felt himself balanced on a precipice.
He was so close to losing control.
Every peal of pleasure she felt, every point of contact, fed him. He was nearly healed.
And he was hungrier than ever.
Every cell in his body roared for wanting her. Every instinct he had told him to hold her down, sink his teeth into her once more, and drive his hungry, hard cock into her soft wet heat.
He could imagine it. Had imagined it. The first drop of pre-cum from his cock would invade her, begin to change her. Her body would change inside, grow and shift to accommodate Kragen’s cock, and only his cock. She would become perfectly molded to him, and no one else, for the rest of her life. She would be truly marked as his.
Any mate of mine only has grief in her future.
Kragen closed his eyes, balled his fist, bared his fangs with the effort of controlling himself. She tasted of lust, and light, and love. Her scent intoxicated him. And it was all over him. All over his lips, his tongue. He inhaled deeply, and his cock throbbed painfully against his leathers.
It was a close thing, but he brought himself to rein once more.
And then he opened his eyes to find Andromeda kneeling, naked, in front of him.
Her hands on his thighs.
Her eyes looking up at his, begging. Begging.
As she brushed against his erection, her fingers searching out the ties that barely contained his tortured cock, he tested himself.
Just her touch was enough to make his cock glow. Just the sight of her was enough to bring him to the brink of madness. The beast inside him roared, furious at being denied, and only the look on An
dromeda’s face revealed that he’d roared that frustration out loud.
The rafters shook.
He pushed her away, his need for her becoming a painful knot at the base of his balls, and grabbed for the sheet. With his other hand he tore at the leather ties, freeing his cock. Andromeda watched, her eyes widening as she saw its size.
“Lie back,” he ordered. “And spread.”
She did it immediately. Without question.
For a moment, he wondered if he would do it. Plunge forward, bury himself in her, bind their futures together forever. Take possession of what was his.
No.
Kragen stared into the depths of her as he pumped his cock once, twice, three times. He exploded into the sheet, his vision going black as he slumped forward with another roar. He barely had the strength to hold himself up, but when Andromeda reached for the soiled sheet, he growled.
“Do not touch it,” he ordered. “One drop, and you will be marked. You will be mine, forever.”
Andromeda blinked up at him. She didn’t understand. Was confused.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t have the energy to explain. Everything he had left went into rising from the bed, walking to his supply room, taking the sheet with him.
When he came back, she had covered herself with the other sheet.
His Dom instincts kicked in. She was scared. Unsure. Rejected.
He would fix that.
Just as soon as he made sure she was safe—from him.
“What are those?” she said, pointing to what he carried in his arms.
“Leonid chains,” he said. He dropped them around his feet, took the triple dose syringe of triclosan he carried in his other hand, and forcibly injected it into his thigh.
The look on Andromeda’s face as she watched him nearly broke his heart.
“I don’t want you to do that,” she said.
“I give the orders,” he said simply. “You will put your clothes back on. Now.”
For a second, she stared at him. He raised an eyebrow.
She got dressed.
Kragen’s shoulders relaxed. Her scent still filled the room, and her taste was still on his lips, but this was safer. And in a moment, the triclosan would take full effect, and they would have some relief.
