Dark Thoughts

by Cynthia Sax

  Dita squared her shoulders. “If you won’t intervene, I will.” She walked toward the two beings, her ass swaying, her head held high.

  “No killing.” Kralj allowed her to go, silently granting her permission to do what she felt necessary. He could monitor their surroundings from where he was. If anyone, the clones, Yorick, an unknown being attacked, he was prepared to act, to protect her.

  “She’s not your slave. You can’t force her to do your bidding.” Dita told the handler, his little assassin looking for a fight.

  “Stay out of this, slut.” Yorick responded.

  Kralj’s beast growled, not liking the male’s tone.

  “Your name is Sari, right?” Dita asked the female.

  Sari’s head dipped. “You shouldn’t—”

  “Stop talking to her.” Yorick glared at Dita. “This is none of your concern.”

  Dita ignored him. “You’re living in the Refuge, Sari.” Her tone turned brusque. “Do you know what that means?”

  “I can’t be killed,” the female murmured.

  “It means you’re surrounded by brutish beings.” Dita paraphrased what Kralj had said. Although she constantly rebelled, she did listen to him. “Violence is the response to every disagreement. Not reasoning. Not words. Violence.”

  “Fuck you.” Yorick approached her, his chest puffed out.

  Dita’s tiny fist whipped outward. Skin smacked skin. Cartilage crunched. Yorick howled, holding his nose. Blood streamed down his face.

  Kralj’s beast roared his approval. His mate was a force.

  “See.” Dita waved at the male. “That is how you respond.”

  Sari gazed at her handler, her expression a mixture of horror and awe.

  “You’ll pay for that, slut.” Yorick ran at Dita.

  Dita spun, lowering, her left leg extending, tripping the male. He fell. She treated him to a barrage of lightning-fast kicks, knocking his head back again and again.

  “Little one,” Kralj growled. She’d kill him if she continued.

  Dita stopped, her bottom lip curling with disappointment. “No killing.” She glanced at Kralj. He nodded, confirming that rule. “Only maiming.” She rested her hands on her shapely hips and gazed at the other female. “Make a fist.”

  Sari looked at Dita, at the male on the ground, and back at her. She tentatively raised her hands, making what Kralj assumed the female thought were fists.

  He shook his head. If she hit anyone with those hands, she’d hurt herself more than her opponent.

  Dita winced. “Let’s start again. Hold out your hands flat, palms down, fingers together, thumbs relaxed.” She demonstrated. The female mimicked the position. “Curl your fingers. That’s it.” Sari glowed under Dita’s approval. “Fold your thumbs downward. They should fall across your index and middle fingers.”

  The female followed the instructions.

  Dita examined her fists. “Move your thumbs lower on your fingers.” The female adjusted her thumbs. “That’s perfect.”

  Yorick struggled to his feet, his big body swaying. “You’re going to pay for that, slut.”

  “You’re interrupting our lesson.” She glowered at him.

  “Fuck you.” He rushed toward Dita.

  “Wrong answer.” She bent her knees, making herself smaller than she already was. Yorick, bigger, taller, missed her, his arms swinging over her head. She didn’t miss him. Dita pummeled his crotch with her fists. She punched him once, twice, three times before he fell, clutching his groin, his screams high-pitched, his face an interesting shade of red.

  Kralj’s balls ached merely from viewing that takedown.

  “Stay down.” She waggled her finger at the unconscious male. “He shouldn’t interrupt us again.” Dita turned back to her student. “You know bodies better than most beings in the Refuge.” She panted a bit, her eyes sparkling with excitement. His little assassin liked to fight. “Use that expertise against your opponents. Target their sensitive spots.”

  “I don’t know about having expertise but that is a sensitive spot.” Sari smiled, the movement reopening the cut on her bottom lip.

  “It is.” Dita laughed. “Show me your fists.” The female raised her hands. “Impressive. Let’s teach you how to use them.”

  Kralj leaned against a domicile and watched as his female demonstrated how to punch an opponent. Sari mimicked the motion. Dita corrected her. Eventually the older female grew comfortable and they sparred playfully, Sari’s confidence blossoming under the instruction. Yorick remained down, sprawled face first on the pathway stone.

  The male wouldn’t stay like that forever. Kralj preferred that both of the females be far away from Yorick when he regained consciousness.

  “Little one,” he murmured.

  “I have to go.” Dita smiled at the female. “Continue to train. Ask the girl you were speaking with, Azalea, to assist you.” She jogged to Kralj’s side, her expression triumphant. “Now, Sari has a chance of survival.” She grasped his hand.

  He savored that renewed connection. “She has a better chance.” Kralj led Dita through the maze of shadows, directing her back to his lair. “I’m revoking my permission to leave the chamber.”

  “I figured you would.” She swung his arm. “Master.”

  He stifled a sigh. She was untrainable. “You were patient with the female.”

  “I treated her the way I wished others had treated me.” Dita skipped along beside him. “My training was…harsh.”

  “It was effective.” His training was harsh also. “You didn’t kill the male.”

  “I didn’t kill Sari either.” She beamed at him, her beautiful face glowing.

  His lips twitched. “Was that a possibility?”

  “There was a very good possibility of that happening.” Her head bobbed, her brown curls rearranging around her face. “Killing quickly is automatic for me. It’s an assassin thing—get in and get out as fast and as quietly as possible.” Her lips twisted. “It feels wrong, unnatural to fight and not kill my opponents. I don’t know how Refuge residents do it.”

  They weren’t monsters, not like Dita, not like him. “Don’t fight others when I’m not near.” He’d prevent her from killing them.

  “Yes, master.” She jauntily saluted him.

  She was impossible. He shook his head. “We should stop talking.”

  They were nearing the beverage outlet. Beings could be listening to them.

  Dita leaned closer to him, entrancing his beast with her softness, her scent, her warmth. “You should carry me,” she whispered. “Master.” The title lost some of its significance when she added it as an afterthought. “It’ll reinforce the message that you own me.”

  He gazed at her, not-at-all-fooled by her submissive act. “You like being carried.” And he liked carrying her. Kralj swung her over his shoulder and slapped her body covering-clad ass.

  “I love it.” She sighed happily, wiggling. “I love heights.”

  “That’s because you’re small.” It was a struggle to keep his tone stern. “I should be punishing you, not rewarding you.”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk?” She told him pertly.

  He spanked her ass hard, reprimanding her for that comment. She moaned, the musk of her arousal swirling around him, taunting the primal part of him.

  “Control yourself.” He told both Dita and his beast.

  Her body shook. He was a monster, ruled the Refuge, could kill a being with one thought and the damn female was laughing at him. She was fearless.

  Kralj kicked the beverage outlet doors and strode inside the structure, carrying Dita like the spoils of war. Beings stared at them.

  Let them look.

  She was his.

  Chapter Ten

  Dita woke the next planet rotation sprawled over Kralj’s chest, his arms around her, his cock inside her. They rocked gently. Always active, even in her sleep, she suspected she had instigated that movement but the male inside her certainly wasn’t p
rotesting.

  He had taken her three times during the rest period, filling her with his cum again and again, as though he’d wanted to stamp his possession over every cell of her body. She felt owned, in a good way, an empowering way, his protection extending to her.

  Dita clutched his shoulders, one perfect, the other marred, the skin ridged under her fingertips, and she humped him harder, using him for her own satisfaction.

  “Little one.” He rolled and braced himself above her. His shadow was high above his head, extending along the ceiling. When they were alone, he didn’t hide his face from her.

  That trust warmed her heart. Dita cupped his cheeks. Kralj flinched as he often did when she touched his scars but he didn’t pull away. He thrust into her with bone-jarring vigor, his jaw jutted.

  Dita wrapped her legs around him, dug her heels into his clenched ass and held on as he ravished her, pushing deep and withdrawing, pushing deep and withdrawing. He gazed into her eyes, funneling his energy into her. She couldn’t feel it, they didn’t speak of it, but she knew.

  And she allowed it, welcomed it. When he was fucking her, she wasn’t an assassin, a killer, a protector for all females on the planet. She was his fuck tool, an outlet for him.

  Dita felt semi-normal.

  Kralj’s chest rumbled as he drove into her, his thrusts shaking the sleeping support. Sweat covered their bodies, slickening the slide, tightening the connection between them. She arched, rubbing against him, her pussy constricting around his shaft.

  Their bodies had been primed while they slept, their arousal built from many moments of rocking. Passion now flared wildly, burning their restraint to ash. She didn’t fight it, flinging herself into the fire, stroking Kralj’s face with her fingers, brushing her breasts over his chest, massaging his shaft with her inner walls.

  His rumbling intensified. She saw his beast in his eyes. “Kralj, master.” She strained against him, licking his chin, tasting the salt on his skin.

  He snarled, surged into her, nipped her neck. The slight pain scorched her to her core. She cried his name, bucking upward, the flames engulfing her, heating her body, her heart, her soul.

  He bellowed and pushed deeper, pinning her ass to the sleeping support, pouring all of him into her. Nanohumanic-infused cum hit battered flesh and pleasure blazed through her. She screamed, clenched his cock, screamed again, writhing, battered by bliss.

  Kralj shuddered and collapsed, flattening her. Dita mumbled. He shifted to the side, allowing her to breathe. One of his arms remained flung across her stomach as though he couldn’t bear to release her.

  She liked that. A little too much. Dita stared up at the ceiling, savoring her link with him, her thoughts razed, her body limp.

  Kralj grasped the cleaning cloth on the horizontal support beside him and ran it over her still form, his touch gentle, reverent. He didn’t treat her as less than whole. He embraced all of her.

  “I can do that.” She covered his hand with hers.

  “I know you can.” He moved that hand. “But you’re mine. It’s my responsibility to care for you.”

  She released him. “Is that how you view me—as another responsibility?” He already had many duties, assuming accountability for everyone within the Refuge. She didn’t want to be one more burden for him to bear.

  “No.”

  Kralj didn’t say more, sweeping the cleaning cloth over every part of her, snapping the square to refresh it. He couldn’t remove the bubbling inside her. She’d keep that piece of him, that link to her male.

  “If I’m to be locked up in our chambers all planet rotation long, I need a task to complete.” She would be bored out of her mind otherwise. “Preferably something physical.”

  “You won’t be locked up in our chambers.” He passed her body covering to her. “You’re spending the planet rotation with me.”

  Her spirits revived. “We’re hunting?” She donned her garment and her boots.

  “No.” He tugged on his ass coverings. “Ruling the settlement requires more than doling out death sentences.” Kralj handed her weapons to her. “We’ll start the shift with a perimeter check.”

  He performed those often.

  “But perimeter checks are unnecessary.” She filled her sheaths with daggers and her holsters with guns. “You hear every noise within range, read every being’s thoughts.”

  “Residents need to see my surveillance to believe it.” He covered his bare chest with his long leather coat. “You won’t take action and you’re not to speak. Any order I give, I expect you to follow.”

  “And if I don’t follow your orders?”

  “Beings will die.” His eyes gleamed. “Others will be watching us, little one. If you question my commands, they will also. Rebellion is contagious.”

  “You can handle a rebellion.” She stood, having no doubt about that.

  “I can but I don’t want to do that.” Shadow once again covered his face. “Follow me closely.” He stalked out of the chambers, his coat flowing behind him.

  She trailed him, moving silently, excitement pumping through her veins.

  Orol, Kralj’s second-in-command, waited outside the private chambers. He glanced at Dita, not hiding his curiosity, and slipped between them, giving his Ruler an update she suspected the mind-reading male already knew.

  Dita was content to be at the end of the humanoid train. She would protect Kralj’s rear.

  It felt strange to be walking in full light. It was…uncomfortable. One of the assassin rules was not to be spotted yet every being in the public chamber stared at her.

  She placed her palms on the handles of her guns.

  “Little one.” Kralj rumbled. He didn’t turn his head.

  She moved her hands. He wanted to be seen. That was the point of the perimeter check. And he didn’t wish for her to kill his residents.

  Kralj spoke with beings. One male was questioned about a delivery of beverage. Two females gained approval for shift changes. Everyone was terrified of their Ruler but the discussions were surprisingly non-violent.

  Dita listened with interest. Was this what normal people talked about? It seemed intriguingly boring and inconsequential. Kralj’s monster must be pulling at its chain.

  She extracted two daggers, spun them as Kralj conducted business.

  “I prefer daggers myself.” Orol grinned at her.

  Was this a test? Dita sheathed her weapons and looked at Kralj. He had told her not to speak.

  “I can’t read minds.” Orol must have thought she was trying to communicate with him telepathically. “I have other abilities.” He fluttered his wings. “But not that one.”

  She glared at Kralj.

  “You’ll have to talk to me.” Orol clearly believed she was low on intelligence. “Say the words, little female.”

  “Orol.” Kralj barked.

  The winged male’s back straightened.

  “A ship has landed too close to the north wall. The Captain is refusing to move it. Ensure that he does.”

  For some reason, that order amused Orol. “Yes, sir.” The winged male winked at Dita, his eyes sparkling.

  “Now, Orol.” His leader had no patience for delays.

  The male’s feathered wings shook as he left to carry out the command.

  Kralj pulled Dita close to him, tucking her into his side. He finished his conversation with the female in charge of the gaming section.

  Having obtained her instructions, the female hurried away from them.

  Kralj gazed down at Dita.

  “You didn’t speak.” His tone was edged with pride.

  Dita lifted her chin. She was an assassin. Her willpower was strong.

  “You can do this.” He tapped her nose, turned, and walked through the beverage outlet. Buoyed by his approval, by his confidence in her, Dita skipped behind him, her gaze on his broad shoulders, the swagger in his stride.

  They exited the structure and followed the pathways, venturing through the settlement. Males
haggled over the price of a gun. A little boy slipped a circle of gold-colored metal off a female’s wrist and darted away. The female screeched, asking others to stop him. No one did.

  Dita was a female accompanying her male, her schedule for the planet rotation consisting of non-lethal tasks. Perhaps her dream of being normal wasn’t as unobtainable as she’d believed. She even had a friend…of sorts.

  Sari sat at a horizontal support, with Azalea and two other females. Nourishment bars and containers of beverage were set in front of them.

  As Dita passed them, the older female held out her hands, palms down, and slowly curled her fingers. Dita nodded, giving her a smile, pleased. Sari hadn’t forgotten the previous planet rotation’s lessons.

  “Little one.” Kralj didn’t sound happy.

  Dita frowned, not knowing what she’d done to displease him. She hadn’t spoken, hadn’t taken any action other than nodding.

  “You’re hopeless.” He shook his head and approached a merchant. Kralj requested a nourishment bar, tossed it to Dita.

  She snatched it out of the air with her weaker left hand, flipped it, caught it again, walked it across her knuckles, before unwrapping the nourishment bar and eating it.

  Kralj shook his head again, signaling his disapproval. Playing with her food must be one of his many rules.

  They moved through the settlement. While he talked with a battered warrior about the Humanoid Alliance, his old enemy, and the war they were waging against the rebels, he handed Dita a container of beverage. She sipped and listened. When she set down the container, they walked once more.

  Beings stopped Kralj often, asking for his judgment on events. He gave it quickly. His ability to read minds must make such rulings easier. He knew every being’s side, their words, their thoughts, their intentions.

  They reached a secluded portion of one of the walls. Kralj stared at it for a moment. “Could you still enter the Refuge undetected?”

  She nodded.

  “No one is listening to us. You can speak.”

  She clasped his hand and gazed up at the wall. “I can enter your settlement undetected but that’s only because I’m the best and you can’t read my thoughts.”