by Lily Graison
She waded into the water up to her knees, hissing at the cold temperature, then bent to scoop some into her hands and washed her face. When she was as awake as she could get without coffee, she headed back to the path but stopped when an opening in the rock caught her attention.
When she’d seen it the day before, she’d thought it was a cave and wondered, what was in there.
Probably something that will eat you.
A glance down the path showed no one heading that way. She bit her lip and looked at that dark opening again.
One of her biggest faults was she didn’t know when to keep her nose out of places it didn’t belong and that cave was calling her name. But if she wandered off and someone saw her, would they think she was trying to run away? She peeked down the path again. “Just go quickly, take a look, and run back.”
Mind made up, she hurried across the sandy shore of the pond and smiled as she got close enough to see that yes, that dark opening was indeed a cave and—she could hear the sound of running water.
Stepping inside the entrance, Marcy paused, her eyes wide with wonder. The walls of the cave were made of small crystals. A tunnel led further into the cave, the narrow passage cut into the rock curving to the left where light shimmered off the walls. She took three more steps inside, the sound of water growing louder as it echoed through the tunnel. The light on the walls grew brighter as she took two more steps in, the color changing from red to purple and blue, back to white then red.
Her reckless curiosity had her walking further in and when she rounded the corner, her breath caught.
The narrow path had opened into a wide cavern. A few large rocks were scattered here and there and the running water she’d heard was a waterfall raining down from a hole in the ceiling of the cave to splash in a shallow pool at the bottom. The shimmering light was the sun, the reflection through the water casting a rainbow against the walls which looked similar to the cave entrance, only here, the crystals were enormous car-sized, jagged peaks jutting from the wall. It looked like she was standing inside a giant geode and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Marcy looked back at the waterfall and smiled, then sucked in a harsh breath and froze when she followed the path of it back to the pool.
The warlord stood beneath it now, the sight of his naked backside enough to make her throat go dry.
He turned his head, and she ducked behind one of the large rocks near the water’s edge, her heart hammering inside her chest. She counted to ten in her head and peeked around the edge of the rock.
Jorrick had his back to her again. He was bathing underneath the waterfall. She watched him for long minutes, her lip caught between her teeth when he stepped under the water and disappeared. He emerged a moment later and headed her way in calf deep water. She bit her lip harder to keep from making a sound.
The man looked like he’d been carved from stone. A fine dusting of hair covered his chest and belly and she’d never seen a six pack so tight. The muscles moving beneath his flesh were mesmerizing and she let her gaze lower, her eyes widening when she saw the size of his dick. “Holy … shit,” she whispered under her breath.
“Are you here for a specific reason or just to watch me bathe?”
The sound of his voice made her heart skip a beat and Marcy shrank back behind the rock again, flattening her spine against it. Had he seen her or had she spoken too loudly?
Her face heated with embarrassment. Either way, he knew she was there. She looked back at the tunnel, wondering if she could get out without him actually seeing her. Dark shadows hung along the walls. It was possible. Maybe.
Marcy sucked in a breath and crawled along the tunnel wall until she rounded the corner, then stood and ran.
Jorrick grabbed the drying cloth and wiped water from his face before looking back at the tunnel entrance. He inhaled deeply. Her scent still lingered in the air but she was gone and he couldn’t help but wonder why she’d been there.
His thoughts had been on her since the moment he opened his eyes. Waking up to find the shirt she’d been wearing had ridden up her back and his cock was pressed against her lovely ass had made him ache in ways he hadn’t felt since before Zasra—the traitorous nedril—betrayed him and left. He’d wanted to part her thighs and slide his cock against those red curls between her legs, to feel the heat of her against his flesh as he slid inside her.
For the first time in more lunar cycles than he could remember, he’d wanted a female underneath him, to feel the touch of another against his skin. To kiss someone without restraint. For one lust-filled moment, he’d wanted her.
He’d crawled out of bed with his cock so hard it hurt, and had headed straight for the waterfall to cool off. The cold splash of water had done nothing. He’d ended up taking himself in hand with visions of her filling his minds eyes. Of her splayed across his bed, all those glorious red curls fanning out around her face as she held her arms up to him, beckoning him forward as she spread her long legs in invitation. He came so hard his knees had gone weak and had she stepped into the cave moments earlier, she would have been witness to the entire thing.
He didn’t know why the sight of her made him think such things. He hadn’t been moved by the presence of a female for two whole turns of the seasons but the scent that lingered on that one's skin drove him to distraction. Thanks to his heightened senses, he could smell her all the way across camp and his constant awareness of her burned like acid in his veins.
He’d never let another female get to him the way Zasra had. She was the reason he didn’t participate in The Chase anymore. If the females dropped there were all like her, then he wanted no part in it. She’d been his prize, and he’d treated her like a queen. And she’d betrayed him more so than the lying drehan that put him on this wretched planet. Zasra was a constant reminder of how easily females could manipulate and he’d never trust another or let one bring him so low, especially not one who didn’t know when to hold her tongue.
Use her like Allok used Zasra. Get your revenge by planting her inside Allok’s camp and destroy it from within.
The idea had merit.
He’ll put her in his bed.
The thought whispered inside his head as he slipped his pants on. Allok had sent Zasra into the woods the day of The Chase, pretending to be newly arrived on Prison Moon One, and knew she’d crawl into his bed. Had probably told her to and sending the girl to Allok …
The thought of her in that drehans bed—his fist clenched. No, there were better ways to go about this. Him being in possession of her was enough to anger Allok into wanting another confrontation and depending on if the rumors were true and she really did possess magic, then Allok would bring the fight to him. He’d not have to risk sending her into the enemy’s camp. If he kept her long enough, Allok would come to him.
Of course she’d fall running out of the cave. Marcy limped toward the path and stopped once she made it under the sparse canopy of trees lining it and looked at her knee. She’d scraped it pretty bad. Luckily it wasn’t bleeding much, but now there was proof of her crime.
Her face still felt hot, the embarrassment at getting caught gawking at Jorrick the most humiliating thing she’d experienced so far on this backwards little moon. She should have left the moment she saw him but—he’d been too tempting a sight to turn away from.
She was on an alien planet and although most of the aliens here looked like those she saw on those science fiction movies and TV shows back home, Jorrick didn’t. If it wasn’t for that odd golden tint to his skin, he could pass for human. Well, until he opened his mouth, and those fangs were seen. But other than that, he just looked like a long haired, bearded, body-builder. A damn good-looking one at that.
She heard something behind her a few moments later and turned to look. Jorrick was behind her now and gaining on her. If her damn knee didn’t hurt so much, she would have run just to save her from more embarrassment but, he would have probably come looking for her, anyway.
Ignoring him, she limped down the path but jumped when he suddenly grabbed her arm. “Why are you not at camp?”
How the hell had he caught up with her so fast? He stepped closer to her and asked again why she wasn’t in camp, the tone of his voice telling her not to lie. “I went to the pond to wash my face.” His hand tightened on her arm. “There’s no coffee on this awful planet and I needed a pick-me-up. I figured a splash of cold water would do it.”
When he said nothing, she glanced at him. He was staring at her as he had the day before, as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to eat her for lunch or beat her senseless.
He said nothing else as they stood there and for some odd reason, she heard music, as if some planetary soundtrack was playing in the background like some weird alien TV show. Then she remembered. She was on an alien TV show. Prison Moon One was the hottest reality show in the universe. Of course they’d play music for their encounters.
Movement behind the warlord drew her attention, and she saw one of the flying camera orbs. That had to be where the music was coming from. Funny—she’d never heard it before when they were around.
His hold on her arm loosened. “You are not to leave camp without an escort or permission. Is that understood?”
She nodded her head at him. When he let go of her arm, she started down the path again, trying to ignore him behind her, and focused on the vegetation that grew on this planet instead. It was similar to earths but the colors here were more vibrant, as if the bright splash of fall colors were washed over everything. The only thing that looked normal was the occasional white flowers growing in clusters but they all looked as if they hadn’t bloomed yet, the petals all rolled into a tight ball.
When she made it back to camp, she saw Jityria. As usual she looked furious. She marched across the clearing, nodding her head to Jorrick in greeting before looking at her and pointing toward the far end of camp where the other females were. “Go sit with the others. I will join you in a moment to give you your orders.”
Marcy sighed and headed across the clearing to where the other females sat. She gave them a smile in greeting when she plopped down onto one of the stools, then glanced back toward the path. The warlord was still watching her.
Chapter Six
Jorrick stared at the back of her head for a long while with one thought running on repeat inside his mind—she’ll leave if you don’t watch her.
Her leaving camp alone was proof she would be more obstinate than the others. They did nothing unless told to do so. That one acted as if she could do as she pleased, her leaving camp said as much. He’d have to break her of thinking she had free will here.
Movement out of the corner of his eye brought his head around. Vikram and Darqu were standing beside him, Grynn walking his way. He noticed Darqu’s attention on the girl and felt a flash of anger at him boldly staring at her. “Did you need something?” he asked, irritated.
Darqu turned away as Vikram said, “Yes, warlord. Only to tell you that Aris is missing.”
Jorrick felt his gut clench tight at Vikram’s words and looked at the men he’d sent on patrol. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”
“He did not return with the others.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be with the others!”
Grynn, one of the oldest in their camp, reached his side and stepped forward. “He said you told him to go with us, warlord. We had no reason to doubt him.”
Jorrick clenched his jaw and pushed his hair back away from his face, the fear he’d hoped to never have to live through again making it hard to breathe. He knew trouble would be waiting for them soon enough but not this soon and certainly not this way. Aris missing was undoubtedly Allok’s doing. “Gather more to help in the search. Leave with half and send the others to me.”
He turned and started toward his hut. Anxiety caused his stomach to tie into knots as he crossed camp, but anger overpowered his fear a moment later.
Why did Aris go on patrol when he’d told him not to? Because you told him not to, that’s why. He stomped into the hut, snatching his weapons from the table. If he’s not already dead, I’m going to kill him.
Jorrick strapped his long blade to his hip and put the bandolier back on, the crisscrossing straps getting twisted on the back. “Jityria!” He shoved the small blades into the slots cut for them and turned when he had them all in and headed back outside.
“Jityria!” He didn’t see her. The others had gathered, Grynn’s group heading into the trees as he stood there, the rest of the group waiting for him.
Jityria didn’t come running as she usually did and he saw her nowhere in camp. The human was now by the central fire pit and he crossed to where she was sitting, her head raising and turning in his direction as he approached. There was wood ash on her face and her hands were black. She was once again as filthy as she’d been the day before when he brought her to camp. “What have you been doing?”
She glanced at the fire pit. “Cleaning the ashes away.”
“With your hands?”
“Yes.” She sat up on her knees and met his gaze. “It’s how Jityria told me to remove them.”
His ire at Jityria grew as he stood there. No one cleaned the pit with their bare hands. Jityria telling this one to do so—
“Did you need something?”
He nodded and put his back to her. “Straighten the straps. They’re twisted.” He waited so long he thought she hadn’t understood him but finally felt her hands on his naked back. He froze at her touch as the feel of her hands on his skin raised the hair on his arm.
Her fingers slid along the bands of the bandolier up the length of his back before crawling up under his hair, a chill skating down his spine when they did. That one touch giving him a small shiver of pleasure when it shouldn’t have caused the anger he already felt to multiply and he looked over his shoulder and bit out a harsh, “Are you not finished yet?”
She tugged on the strap one last time before her hands fell away. He turned back to face her. The front of the oversized shirt she wore was now completely black. He looked at her hands. They were no longer covered in wood ash, but held a slight discoloration from where they had been. She’d wiped her hands before touching him.
He scowled at the realization and turned on his heel, marching back across the camp. That’s why it had taken her so long to begin fixing the straps. She’d been cleaning her hands and her doing so irritated him more than if she’d smeared the wood ash all over him.
There wasn’t a man here that didn’t go out of their way to do as he asked but very rarely did any of them do anything to please him. That little red one did, in less than a day. As much as he hated to admit it, she pleased him with nothing more than a simple glance in his direction.
And he hated that she had any sort of effect on him at all.
Aryan walked his way, something in his hand. He held it up, then ran the rest of the way across the clearing. “There’s a drop today.” He offered him the paper he held.
Jorrick read the notice then sighed. He needed to be out there looking for Aris but that drop … there were so many things they needed. He looked back at the girl. She had nothing to wear but his shirts, not that he minded, but they were much too large. The one she wore now fell off one shoulder, drawing his attention to the top of her breast and if he noticed, others no doubt have as well. She needed proper clothing and protection for her feet. Once the temperatures started to fall, she’d need thick layers to keep warm.
She won’t be here that long.
The words whispered through his head as he watched her. She was his revenge, nothing more. Her being here until the snows fell hadn’t been in his plan.
A few watchers flew into his line of sight. The small cameras were undoubtedly waiting for him. He bit back a curse and balled the notice up and tossed it away. “Grynn and his scouts will have to look for Aris alone. We go to the drop.”
Aryan nodded and ran back to the group waiting for him at the edge
of the clearing. The camera followed him as he headed their way. Jorrick glanced back at the fire pit when he reached the tree line. The girl had been watching him, her head now lowering before she scooped out more of the ash with her hands.
He turned and headed into the trees and spotted Darqu. He had one shoulder leaned against a tree, his head turned in the direction of the girl. Uneasiness made his gut clench. In all the years he’d known Darqu, he’d never once doubted his ability to see the camp safe. He still didn’t, but Darqu spent too much time issuing orders as of late. He also couldn’t stop staring at the red one. He wasn’t the only one, but there was something predatory in the way Darqu watched her and for reasons he didn’t want to think about, it made something inside him have thoughts so black, he wondered if he needed to just kill him and be done with it. If there was another who fought as brutally as Darqu did that he could trust to watch the camp when he wasn’t there, he would.
The girl was off limits. They all knew this. He’d made it clear when he marked her that she was his and his alone. There were four other females in camp for Darqu and the others to dally with. The red one was his. He had plans for her and he’d not let anything stand in his way of seeing it through.
Marcy stood by the fire pit, her hands black from the wood ash. Jorrick’s surprise at her using her hands to clean the pit meant that Jityria told her to do it that way just for shits and giggles.
She watched Jorrick walk away, his wide shoulders all she could focus on, that and those straps criss crossing his bare back. His request for her to straighten them had given her a minute of pause. Her hands had been black and only after wiping them on the only thing she’d been given to wear, had she reached out to straighten them. It was the first time she’d touched him—well, if you didn’t count when she woke up this morning with him wrapped around her like she was his own personal teddy bear but that was him touching her.
