Engaging Gren

by Marie Harte

  “Cari Elaran was a crazy witch,” Gren growled. “Her daughter was just as bad.”

  “It was true? You were there?” Her heart raced.

  “I was there helping a friend.” He didn’t sound pleased at her curiosity.

  She saw the face that popped suddenly into his mind and the connection snapped. “Lurin. He’s Thesha too?”

  Gren muttered something under his breath but refused to answer her.

  The ship took off and she sat beside him, stunned. If he was Thesha, did that mean he’d been controlling her thoughts all along? He’d tampered with her dream, who was to say he hadn’t skewed her attraction into the deepening affection she’d begun to feel? Suddenly uneasy around him, she wanted distance. Not the normal response most women would have to a real Thesha, not with their purported sexual expertise—that she could indeed attest to. But then, Temis’ priorities had never been her own pleasure first, her responsibilities second.

  “Just forget about it until we complete the mission, okay?” Gren sounded angry.

  She felt his dejection like a heavy fog pressing down on her. She wasn’t quite sure what to do or how to make things right. The thought of losing her scared the hell out of him.

  Losing her? She blinked and realised she experienced his emotions.

  Glancing at him in her periphery, she noted the stiffness of his shoulders, the resolute set of his jaw. Uncertainty pulsed in her, but so too did concern and compassion…and the bead of arousal that never faded when in his presence.

  Worse, she could feel his hurt, and it gnawed at her.

  More than bothered, she sighed and reached to cover his shoulder with a gloved palm. “We’ll talk about it after the mission.”

  He relaxed at her touch and nodded. For the next few hours they marked outer extraction points while Gren shared information about Rorn’s estate through Lurin to Sernal. Using the ship’s advanced cloaking device, they were able to avoid patrolling Colony6 ships and jockey fairly close to the estate, a massive conglomeration of native rock, Mornian steel, and Eyran technology.

  Rorn had currency to spend, and he’d clearly spent it here.

  When they hovered above the estate, Temis saw the slave tents for the first time. At the rear of the estate sat a large rectangle of red material connected to a smaller square of red, both effectively hiding whatever occurred beneath. The colour also camouflaged with the many red trees around the place. Had she not known what to look for, she might have missed Rorn’s estate entirely.

  “The tents are heated and lit from within, ensuring total privacy from outsiders.”

  “Why tents? Why not a fixed marketplace? This is Colony6, where any and everything goes.”

  “The tents are easy enough to tear down when the auction is finished. They’re standard among slavers,” Gren explained. “Even here on Colony6 Rorn has to be careful. If the militia catches wind of how much he actually makes from a sale, they’ll horn in on profits. As it is, local law is often best bought for protection.”

  “How do you know so much about the slave trade?”

  Silence fell heavily over the cabin.

  “I lived with a slaver when I was young. My parents died unexpectedly.” His face blanked of all expression. Even his emotions seemed to vanish. “Before my relatives could collect me, a slaver stepped in and took me under his wing.”

  Shocked, Temis hadn’t expected that. “How old were you?”

  “I don’t know, eight or nine. It doesn’t really matter.”

  A resurgence of guilt bled from him, and she felt sorry he’d been forced to endure something so ugly at so young an age. “Did they ever try to sell you?”

  He laughed, a harsh sound. “No. I had other talents better put to use. I didn’t really understand my powers then, didn’t know what I was. Neither did the slave master. But he saw my calming effect on his female slaves and used me instead of expensive drugs to sedate them.”

  She didn’t know what to say. How could he feel responsible for his actions as a young boy when he was clearly as much a victim as the slaves? She knew nothing she said would make a difference to him, not now. He was wallowing in remorse and anger, and she knew how powerful those emotions could be.

  They travelled together in uncomfortable quiet before Gren told her what Sernal had planned.

  “Rafe and a small party of peacekeepers will arrive at one of the four extraction points we chose. You’ll be wearing a small tracker behind your ear, so they’ll follow the trail to you. It’s vital you remain with the women once we find them.”

  “I will. But what about the militia? How are we going to overcome Colony6 troops?”

  “I didn’t ask too many questions. But apparently Rafe knows people even Sernal doesn’t know about. He’s got a few slaver contacts and Colony6 friends. He’s solid, but he can’t promise numbers. We’ll have to do most of this on our own.”

  Temis nodded, but she couldn’t stop dwelling on Gren’s past and his abilities. The questions and doubts ripped through her mind like a sharp cleaver, and the tension caused a roaring headache.

  Suddenly her headache ceased, replaced by a surge of masculine warmth.

  She swivelled in her seat and stared at Gren. “You have healing abilities too?”

  He nodded, his expression contained.

  She couldn’t help her amazement at his gifts. Not such a monster after all, she thought to herself. Then she glanced at her timepiece and sighed.

  Releasing the inner shields she’d built to keep Gren out, she tried to relax and open herself for the sake of the mission. But the more time passed, the more she dreaded their approaching deadline. The time had come to assume an absent, drugged expression and don the silken rags that would show off every curve on her body.

  Temis and Gren shared an unhappy look of mutual understanding.

  “It begins, Temis. Remember, despite what you may think, I do care. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. He might be Thesha, way more than she could understand at the moment, but she knew he spoke true.

  With a sigh, she nodded. “I know. Now let’s put this drun away before he harms anyone else.”

  Gren nodded, a familiar gleam in his eyes. The mercenary was back, and for once Temis was happy to see him both arrogant and deadly.

  * * * *

  When Gren entered the outer walls of Rorn Fenhal’s sanctuary into the large slave tent, he looked like a ‘marble statue of sheer menace’, per the woman flirting with the guard at the gate. Temis removed her cold-weather clothing and boots, and he mentally prepared for this nightmare made real.

  “Toss them over there,” he ordered in a hard voice and yanked on the chain affixed to her collar, pretending she was no more than chattel and not his bonded mate being paraded nearly naked among the worst of the System’s slavers.

  She wore a dark violet top, so sheer her nipples showed through the narrow expanse of silk holding her breasts. The matching bottoms had a low-cut waist, her mound appallingly visible even under the thin silver wrap she wore.

  No shoes adorned her feet, a common practice to discourage runaways. She’d slackened her beautiful features and moaned softly, to suggest a drugged state.

  “Are you all right?” he asked for the third time. At least she trusted him enough to keep their channels open, to ensure her safety. He deliberately shielded his upset that she didn’t, or wouldn’t, accept the truth about him. He was upset, but he didn’t want to distract her from their main purpose.

  A glance into her eyes heated him from the inside out. He’d never seen her more beautiful, and it bothered the hell out of him everyone else was getting the same eyeful.

  The violet and silver of her clothing made her eyes appear to glow, in spite of the dull flatness she tried to project. Her curves spilled over the excuse of her clothing, a delectable offering no man would be able to resist.

  He knocked another drun out of the way as he walked down the traditional receiving line for guests and invited se
llers. To Gren’s chagrin, he didn’t see many slavers, only interested buyers, which meant Rorn would most likely request a private auction just for Temis.

  The drun he’d knocked aside returned. Giving his anger an outlet, he grabbed the scum reaching for Temis and broke the man’s wrist with a casual snap. The man’s screams drew everyone’s attention, and Gren dropped him without so much as a backwards glance.

  One of Rorn’s peacemakers approached to survey the commotion, relaxing into a smile when he noted Gren with Temis behind him. He nodded to several other guards responding to the noise, and they dispersed quickly.

  “Lead Rorn has been expecting you,” the man said, staring boldly over Gren’s shoulder. “What beauty you bring to our home.” Gren noted the man’s obvious arousal through his skin-tight leggings.

  Disgusted and wishing he could simply skewer the bastard with his sword still on Sernal’s damned ship, Gren nevertheless nodded dismissively and continued into the main tent.

  Once past the line, he studied his surroundings. Several naked women stood bound in a nearby cage. None of them appeared coherent, and he confirmed their drugged state with a subtle probe.

  “I count fifteen,” he said to Temis. “Keep an eye out for anyone else not on our list. Who the hell knows how many other ‘slaves’ they found. I don’t like the idea of leaving anyone here behind. And there’s still Rorn’s private auction unaccounted for.”

  He felt her hesitation.

  “I’m just worried if we don’t move fast enough, the women sold here will be gone before the private auction begins and ends.”

  He forestalled her worry. “Purchases and transfers may be made, but no one may leave until the auction head gives leave to do so. That typically occurs only after he or she has bid in private. And Rorn has an ego the size of Ragga. He’ll want everyone to see you on his arm. Don’t worry, even if he tries to push his buy forward, I’ll delay him.”

  “Good, I think.”

  He sent her an encouraging ‘smile’ of warmth. He knew how hard it was for her to appear nearly naked, amidst such depravity.

  “Better here than outside. At least there’s heat,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah, it could be worse.” She subtly glanced at the women in the cage. “At least I’m dressed.”

  They continued to walk around the tent, and Gren made note of the number of spectators present. At least four dozen men and a few female flesh peddlers mingled, sipping fine Jaron wine. Then Gren spotted their host.

  “Speaking of worse,” Temis said when she spotted Rorn. She drew closer to Gren, petting his arm with a docility hiding the tension within, which grew when Rorn saw them and approached.

  “Gren, how nice to see you. And how wonderful to see you too, Temis.” Rorn’s smile told Gren just how much the bastard was looking forward to the evening.

  “I was surprised when I received your invitation,” Gren said to gauge the other man’s reactions. “I was under the impression you and that bastard Sernal were good friends.”

  “By Flor’s feet, no. I was merely playing a role. Sorry my men got a little rough back on Lady Justice. They were overeager to appear authentic.”

  “No worries.” He spoke without concern, even though he wanted to break Rorn’s neck.

  Temis’ firm grip on his arm held him steady.

  Rorn noted her hold and gave Gren a quizzical look.

  “We’ve had some fun together.” Gren cupped her breast, his attention focused on Rorn’s accelerated breathing. “She’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  Rorn licked his lips, his stare glued to her nipples. “I can imagine.”

  “I bet you can, you bastard,” Temis seethed while smiling vapidly, her loving gaze on Gren. “And would you mind not touching me there? I’m getting hot and bothered in front of this drun!”

  Gren leant down and kissed her on the mouth. “I’m sorry, but it’s aggravating the hell out of Rorn to have me touching you. Look at him.”

  Temis blinked up into Rorn’s sneer and smiled.

  “I’m doing things a bit differently this time.” Rorn made an effort towards pleasantness and tore his gaze from Temis. He nodded at several guests passing by but watched Gren carefully.

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve decided to hold the private sale while the general sale progresses. None of my more important clients have issue with that since the ripest picks will be in private anyway.”

  Gren nodded, pleased with the outcome. The sooner he could rescue the abducted women and remove Temis from the tents, the better. “That sounds fine. Let me grab a glass of wine and we’ll join you shortly. I take it the roped partition is where the private sale will be held?”

  “Yes.” Rorn looked back at Temis, as if unable to help himself. “You’re about to become a very rich man today, Gren.”

  “That’s why I’m here.” He couldn’t help the evil grin curling his lips, feeling the lure of violence urging him to take Rorn’s last breath at the earliest possibility.

  Rorn nodded and gave him a wide berth as he left.

  “Nicely done,” Temis mentally applauded.

  “I’m going to seriously hurt him before this is over.” Just the way Fenhal had been eyeing Temis demanded he break several of the man’s limbs.

  He felt her sigh.

  “Now sura, I need you to be quiet so I can concentrate.”

  She muttered something he couldn’t understand then quieted as he sought out the caged women.

  It took valuable energy to clear their minds and plant firm instructions not to rebel. After a few tense moments they settled into a forced calm, ready to act on his or Temis’ notice.

  “Wow.” Temis’ voice held a wealth of respect. “This might not be as hard as I thought.”

  “Don’t judge our hardship too soon.” He moved with her to the private area adjoined to the main tent. There, he removed the thin silver wrap from her shoulders, exposing more of her. “Showtime,” he said and pulled open the roped curtain.

  What she saw made her freeze in her tracks. He gently pushed her inside and wrapped a large hand around her waist, holding her against his side.

  “Remember, you belong to me and no other,” he growled the warning. “And I always protect what’s mine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rorn stared through narrowed eyes as she entered the smaller tent, unable to resist peacemaker Temis Freya clad in nearly nothing. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

  Ignoring the hulking barbarian at her side, he stared in awe and lust at her perfect form. She had full breasts, pert nipples begging to be bitten. Her stomach was tight, unmarred and snow white. And her legs…so muscular yet so lean. He could clearly imagine them wrapped around his body while he fucked her.

  “You want me to put them in your room?” Nero murmured.

  “Do it.”

  Nero strode to the pair and escorted them towards Rorn’s ‘tent’, which was partitioned from the private auction by four walls of Mornian steel. The only entrance was through a doorway of rich, blue velvet.

  Gren nodded to Nero before disappearing with Temis beyond the velvet curtain. Rorn’s exclusive viewing area, the room held mountains of pillows and soft fresha furs, ideal for creating sexual friction. An assortment of erotic toys and lotions sat in a corner on a small table, along with the painful pleasures of bondage gear and burn stakes.

  He had an uncomfortable walk to the tent, his cock stiff as a rock as he imagined plying Temis with his favourite toy, a rough, studded, leather whip.

  He’d deliberately changed the format of tonight’s auction because of her. Normally, he’d have watched his slaves selling on the block during the general selection, then proceeded unhurried to the private stock, where the most desirable slaves would be sold.

  But he couldn’t wait. Not now. He wanted to watch the monstrous mercenary by Temis’ side rape her while he fucked her mouth. He wanted to witness her do
mination, to see her brutally enslaved. And he wanted her fully aware of everything, so that she would know Rorn was there through it all.

  Stopping for a moment, he took a breath and tried to calm his raging erection. He wanted Temis’ submission to be lengthy, a feast for the senses he could remember for years to come. It wouldn’t do to climax so quickly.

  Only after he’d watched her denigrated and caught it on vidstream would he buy her from that prick mercenary. Once the merc’s purpose ended, Nero would step in and kill him.

  Rorn deliberately slowed his stride and entered his tent with a smile. He ran his hands through his thick hair, pleased at its shine in the mirrored wall he faced.

  Gren stood with Temis, staring around him. Temis remained obediently by his side, the collar around her neck stimulating in the extreme.

  Gren interrupted his thoughts. “I saw several beauties out there. Am I to miss their sale as well as that of the general trade?”

  Rorn hastened to reassure him, not liking the man’s expression. The hard sheen on the merc’s eyes made him distinctly uneasy, especially since he’d left his guards outside. But not even a mercenary with Gren’s reputation would think to attack a man as powerful as Rorn Fenhal. If he did, the phaser tucked in the back of Rorn’s trousers would end that.

  Glancing around at his own opulence, awash in the grandeur of his reputation, Rorn recalled the many slaves he’d pleasured in here and knew Temis would be the one he’d never forget. He focused on her once more, his lips curiously wet.

  He licked them, unable to look away from his new slave.

  “Well, Fenhal? Let’s get to it. How do you want to proceed?”

  Apparently, Gren was familiar with the auction. He waited on Rorn—the auction master, to begin the trade.

  “First you’ll show me what I’m getting.” Rorn waited for Temis to disrobe. His cock twitched, eager to feel Temis’ mouth around him while she sobbed for mercy.

  Gren rubbed his scarred hand along her abdomen and considered Rorn. Temis moaned and closed her eyes, swaying seductively against the larger man. Yet Gren appeared completely unmoved. Was the man made of stone?