Savage Instinct

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Savage Instinct Page 17

by Anwar, Celeste


  But this man’s lips were thin and curved into an angry grimace, matching the stubborn set of his jaw and the angry look in his eyes. If the tension permeating his face and musculature was any indication, he resented the fact that his captive had found the nerve to try to escape.

  Slowly, Ebony closed her gaping mouth, and swallowed convulsively before trying to summon up the words. “I know you,” she said at last, feeling certain that she did even though she knew she’d never set eyes on him before. He wasn’t the kind of man she’d ever forget. “I know you.”

  “I’m afraid you do not. Are you going to fight me? Must I knock you out, as Damon knocked you out before?” the man growled, giving her a hard shake for emphasis.

  Her head snapped back, unprepared for the sudden change in direction. “If you manhandle me, you’re going to wake up without your balls!” she said through gritted teeth. Then she stopped, and froze in place for a moment.

  He smirked, hitching up one corner of his mouth, though the amusement failed to reach his eyes. He gave Ebony an appreciative once-over. “I’m just surprised you have any fight in you at all. None of the others did.”

  But suddenly she didn’t want him to know just how much fight she had in her. She realized that her best chance lay in lulling him into a false sense of security until she could steal away at a better time, and so she decided that she would cooperate in any way necessary until she could escape. Her captor’s brute strength was far greater than her own, but she trusted that he would think like a typical man: with his dick. In her experience, men underestimated those who were smaller than themselves. And she was tiny in comparison with this big brooding lug.

  Slowly, she shook her head, continuing to stare at the man who held her dangling above the floor. “Who are you?” she gasped, though her chest felt tight and it was becoming hard to breathe.

  He chuckled, but it was a rough sound that was devoid of mirth. “I find myself disappointed in you. I thought, by the look in your eyes that you were more than merely another one of these vapid concubines. I was sure you were smarter than that.

  “But to answer your question, I am Fallon Anadaru. I am rightful heir to the throne of Chalcydon and I was betrayed by both my father and brother. And you, little one, are going to help me secure my place upon my throne.”

  Her eyes widened. “The king – has a brother?”

  “He does. Not many know. I like it that way.”

  “A brother that should be king, instead of him?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I heard you.” Ebony tried to twist out of his grasp, but her struggles had no effect. “Of course, there’s no telling if anything coming out of your mouth is the truth or not,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath as he continued to hold her aloft. “You could just be insane.”

  He ignored her words. “If you are willing to behave yourself,” he said, “I will allow you to walk of your own accord.” He aimed that piercing blue gaze straight at her eyes. “Are you going to behave?”

  Behind her, Ebony sensed that the others in the group had stopped to listen to their exchange and had closed in to cut off any avenue of escape. Much as she’d love to give this man a run for his money and wipe that belittling smirk off his face, she knew better than to press her luck. There were just too many of his men here in this dark and unfamiliar tunnel.

  Yet if she played dumb and cowed before him like a good little girl, he might lower his defenses – and if he didn’t, she was willing to try something crazy like seducing him if it meant she could escape. She knew very well that there was a shortage of women on the planet, and all men liked getting their dicks wet as much as possible. And all men especially tended to fuck themselves into exhaustion whenever they got a new piece of ass.

  You’re a survivor, first and foremost, Ebony reminded herself. You can worry about your feelings about it at a later date – if you survive this.

  Still staring at his cold blue eyes, she nodded silently, and was greatly relieved when he lowered her to the floor at one side of the tunnel, away from the stream of muck, and the pads of her bare feet connected with the cold, damp stone. She took a deep breath and tried to straighten her flimsy red silk gown.

  “Get moving,” the man said, and then spun her around and prodded her into walking by pushing his finger into her back.

  Ebony walked on, and kept silent, but kept to the very edge of the tunnel. Now that she was upright and walking, she could see that the center had a slow river of sewage in it that would have been knee-deep on her or on any of the other women. The men had thick boots and barely noticed the inconvenience, but Ebony cringed at how filthy her bare feet were and how the long gold-edged hems of her sheer red gown were already soaked to the ankles in an unthinkable sort of mud. But there was nothing she could do about it now but keep moving.

  She counted seven men walking up ahead and every one of them had a woman thrown over his shoulder, just the way she had been. She didn’t like those odds. And as much as she wanted to think about only herself, she could see the terrified faces of the captive women as they were carried through this dark and stinking tunnel into the unknown. Yes, Cassie was one of them, and she saw Rebecca, and Jane, and Suzanne, and Michelle, and Pamela, and Famke.

  She couldn’t just leave them here. She had to help these women if she could. They were her harem sisters and fellow captives, after all. They’d already been stolen away once and that had been terrifying enough for any ten lifetimes. And Ebony knew how helpless they all were against these huge and powerful men.

  But she also knew that she was the strongest of all of these women, both outwardly and inwardly. There was no one else to help them but her.

  Ebony cast a quick glance behind her at Fallon, wanting to make sure she could keep him in sight. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t have heard of it. Keep moving. Don’t fall behind,” Fallon commanded.

  Ebony cast her gaze ahead. She tried to see if she could spot any identifying marks on the surrounding tunnel, but the rough red brick forming the walls appeared smoothly jointed and solid. She couldn’t see much past the circle of light from the lantern held by the man at the front of the line, but there were no twists or turns and no tunnels veering off from their path. If they’d passed any other corridors, they had done so while she’d been unconscious.

  It didn’t look like there was going to be any other way out of here.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Fallon again. “Don’t you want to know my name?”

  His voice grew louder. “Do I need to put your gag back on, woman?”

  She sighed. “My name is Ebony. Ebony Raines.”

  He grabbed her shoulder and stopped her, and then snatched up the gag resting around her neck and pushed it back over her mouth.

  Ebony clenched her teeth. So much for just talking any information out of him.

  “Walk. Faster. Or I’m going to carry you again,” he said, shoving her forward once more.

  Ebony caught up to the line, following obediently. The stench in the air grew fainter – or, disturbingly, perhaps she was beginning to grow accustomed to the smell.

  It took her a few moments to realize that fresher air now moved past her from up ahead. As they walked, the air grew damper and cooler, smelling of salt and water – like the ocean.

  Just for a moment, even as she marched captive through this awful place, Ebony’s mind was filled with thoughts of things she had not seen for so long – like the ocean.

  She raised her head and sniffed the air again, and her spirits began to rise a little. After over a year of being a prisoner within solid stone walls, and barely seeing the sky, was she about to see the ocean again? Even if it was the ocean of another planet?

  Then they rounded a corner and the blinding light of day pierced the blackness of their surroundings like a spotlight. The mouth of the tunnel, clearly delineated up ahead, promised refuge.

  The men gathered near the bright openi
ng and one by one set down their female captives at the edge of the sewer tunnel. The women quickly huddled together with quiet sobs of desperation, patting each other’s shoulders and holding each other close

  Wind blasted through the entrance, ruffling through her hair. Ebony breathed deeply, refreshed by the clean ocean air. But then, as she watched, two of the men walked side by side to the brightly lit opening and – in the blink of an eye – dropped out of sight.

  Her stomach knotted. She wanted desperately to ask Fallon what was going on, but the gag prevented her from pelting him with questions. She could just rip it off with her hands, but she worried that he might retaliate against her in some way – or against the other women captives.

  And so Ebony forced herself to wait. And wait.

  Eventually, the other men began to fasten leather harnesses around the other women, buckling them tightly into the rigs even as the women cried out and begged to be let go. But when Fallon began strapping a harness around Ebony’s chest and waist, carefully positioning the straps around her breasts and butt, she remained still and silent – even though he took much more time to make the adjustments than he really needed. He crouched down to pull more straps up between her legs, and her only thought was the desire to kick him right in the face.

  Stooped down at her crotch, his head bent as he worked to secure the harness around her body, he paused and looked up at her. It was as if he sensed the turmoil running through her mind, even though she had remained frozen in place and glaring at him.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll live through this,” Fallon promised. He spoke in a quiet tone for her ears alone.

  The need to ask him what was going on burned in the back of her throat. She couldn’t stand it anymore. The fact that they were all wearing harnesses scared the ever-loving shit out of her. Panic began rising in her chest and threading her nerves, making her heart gallop within her chest.

  “They’ve reached the bottom,” one of the men said, peering out of the tunnel entrance.

  The bottom?

 

 

 


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