Dark Fire (Refuge Book 4)

by Cynthia Sax

  The thought of thwarting him appealed to Faylee. She placed the bangles in her pocket, searched for another mark.

  Silver flashed. She turned her head.

  A huge being loomed over the edge of the pathway, standing between two permanent structures in front of a darkened, rarely utilized route.

  Black fabric draped over the being’s head, covered most of his body, but he was unmistakably male, his shoulders wide, his hips narrow, his booted feet spread in a dominant warrior stance.

  Her nipples tightened, pressing against the strips of cloth she used to confine her breasts. She wanted him, and that was unfortunate because she couldn’t have him. She couldn’t have any male. It was too dangerous.

  He was too dangerous. She should give him a wide berth. The warrior scanned the crowd, clearly looking for someone, and she doubted that someone had a long lifespan ahead of him or her. The glint of silver was likely a weapon.

  Her curiosity was piqued, however. She had to know what the object was. Faylee slid behind a merchant’s stall, watching the warrior as he watched everyone else.

  He reached under the fabric, revealing the shine of metal. It wasn’t a weapon. It was flat, scaled, like body armor.

  Her fingers twitched. What would that feel like? Would it be smooth or covered with indents, cool or warmed by his form?

  She liked warm. She liked shiny.

  Before rational thinking could stop her, she moved toward him. She’d take one quick feel and then she’d leave. He wouldn’t detect it. She was the best and he was preoccupied with his search.

  As she crept closer, she breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. Frag. He smelled good, like smoke and male and fucking.

  She slipped her hand under the black fabric covering him, glided her fingers over smooth, enticingly warm…skin. She was touching the warrior’s bare form.

  A jolt of awareness surged up her arm, across her chest.

  The warrior must have felt it also. He jerked, swung his head toward her.

  Shit. She pulled her hand back.

  He caught her wrist. Fuck. The male was quick.

  She wiggled her fingers.

  “No.” He placed her hand on his stomach, flattening her palm. His muscles rippled, a living thing under her fingertips.

  He was enticingly hot, the warmth of his body engulfing her. She splayed her fingers over his skin, enjoying the contact with another being, touch a rare experience in her solitary lifespan.

  “I’ve found you.” His voice was low and deep, coiling around her like a strip of cloth. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  He was searching for her? She stiffened.

  “Look at me.”

  She started to lift her face, instinctively responding to his command. Then she realized what she was doing and stopped.

  He was a stranger and she was owned by Three-eyed Mak, owing him more credits than she could steal in over a dozen solar cycles. If she met the warrior’s gaze, he might see her, the real her, and that exposure could end her lifespan.

  She shook her head and tugged on her hand.

  He wouldn’t release her, holding on to her with an unrelenting grip.

  She glanced around them. Beings could be watching them.

  As though reading her concern, he backed up, taking her with him, concealing them both in shadow, away from the noise of the busy pathway. “Look at me, female.”

  She gasped, glanced up at him, surprised that he knew, that he had detected what so many other beings hadn’t. Their gazes locked and her mouth dried.

  Flames lit the warrior’s dark eyes, the rest of his face shielded by darkness.

  According to the whisperings of the pleasure workers, only one type of being had eyes like that.

  He was a Dracheon warrior, one of the fiercest males in the universe. His kind, according to rumors, ripped their enemies on the battlefield apart, using their sharp teeth and deadly claws. Then they burned the remains to ash.

  This lethal male had her captured. He had been looking for her, realized she was female, no doubt viewed her as the criminal she was.

  Despite all of that, she wanted him. Her pussy dripped with need.

  Fuck. She was in big, big trouble.

  Chapter Three

  His mate was tiny, fragile, human.

  She wouldn’t survive bonding with him and he couldn’t restrain himself. One touch of her slender fingers had almost caused him to blow metal-melting fire over her extremely flammable form.

  His beast bellowed inside him, fighting for dominance, demanding to claim her now. Not even the stench clinging to her dissuaded his Drache. It perversely liked the foul aroma, found it primitive, dirty. Arousing.

  His cock pressed against his ass covering.

  His mate was equally unhappy with him and also sought to be free. He held onto her wrist as she twisted and thrashed, struggling with a ferocity that excited his beast and belied her size.

  She was a creature of contrasts. Her delicate face was covered with dirt. Her short, shaggy black hair looked as though it had been cut with a dull-bladed dagger. The rags she wore concealed her shape.

  But she had the most beautiful big brown eyes he’d ever seen. He could stare into them forever, the mixture of innocence and world-weariness enchanting him.

  For one heart-wrenching moment, he’d thought she was a child, but his desire and the cynicism in those eyes had eased that concern.

  She was a grown female, ready for their bond. The issue was…

  He wasn’t.

  He’d lose control and his beast would tear her apart. That would destroy him also.

  He couldn’t let her go, however. She was his.

  “I’m Dare.” He introduced himself to the exquisite being he’d spend the rest of his lifespan with. “What’s your name, female?”

  She glanced to the left and to the right, shook her head.

  There was no one close to them but he approved of her caution. It must have kept her alive up to this point.

  “You can whisper.” Being a Dracheon, he could hear an inhalation from three domiciles away.

  “Boy.” Her voice was light and breezy and purely feminine, at odds with her reply. “Call me boy.”

  Did other beings believe her to be male? He tilted his head, studying her.

  “I won’t call you that. You’re female.” It was impossible to see her as anything other than that. She enthralled him, all parts of him. His balls ached with wanting.

  She pursed her lush lips. “Then call me…child.”

  She was no child either, but he had to meet her halfway, build her trust. “I’ll call you child…in public.” He agreed to that proposal. “If you tell me your true name.”

  She shook her head again, sticking out her dainty chin.

  “Very well.” He sighed, regretting having to use tougher tactics with her. “Girl.”

  “No.” Her eyes widened. “You’ll get me killed.”

  “I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.” He made that vow. She was his to protect. “Tell me your name. I’ll only use it when we’re alone.”

  She looked around them again, fidgeting, tugging on her captured wrist.

  “We’re alone.” His tone was dry. “Tell me.”

  Her gaze lowered, her submission pleasing his beast. “Faylee.”

  Faylee. Her name was as delicate as she was.

  “Thank you, Faylee.” He brushed his thumb over the inside of her wrist, caressing her skin back and forth, back and forth.

  She stared at his hand, appeared captivated by the movement.

  Moments passed.

  He stroked her, reveling in that physical connection, in the knowledge he’d located her, his mate, his one and only. His Drache rumbled with satisfaction, his beast surprisingly docile, content with the innocent touching.

  If it stayed that way until they returned to the Refuge, his female might survive. He would then ask Kralj for assistance with their bonding. The all-powerful male could monitor his though
ts, stop him if he lost control.

  His mate would be safe.

  He continued to rub his thumb over her skin. She gradually relaxed. Her shoulders lowered and her breathing leveled.

  “You’re no longer alone.” He kept his voice soft. “You are mine and I am yours. I will safeguard you. Always.”

  Instead of calming her, as he had intended, his words revived the fight within her.

  She shook her head vigorously, twisting out of his grip.

  He stepped toward her. “Mate—”

  “Child.” His mate corrected as she fled, pelting away from him, her small form flying along the pathway.

  Dare chased her, his blood pumping. He was a Dracheon, was faster than any human, could catch her easily.

  But his beast was outraged she’d escaped him. It needed to burn off some of its excess energy before touching his female again.

  And she was heading in the direction he’d planned to take her. He’d purchased chambers in a structure for the upcoming rest cycle, had intended to share them with her.

  She turned right and right again. His mate was quick, her tread light and silent. He kept her in view, tracking her by sight and by scent. She navigated the pathways with an ease founded in familiarity.

  His mate, Faylee, was as wild and as savage as his Drache. That excited him…too much. He huffed, exhaling smoke.

  She reached another intersection of pathways, chose to head left. That was the wrong way.

  He propelled himself forward, gripped her shoulder, spun her around. Objects fell out of her garment, pinged against the stone. Her back smacked against the side of a structure.

  She gasped. He lifted her until their gazes met. She kicked, her booted feet connecting with air.

  Her movements excited his Drache. Claws pricked at his skin. His cock threatened to burst from his ass coverings.

  “Unless you want us to mate here and now, be still.” He growled that warning, holding onto his restraint by a strand of her fine black hair. One brush of her body against his would break it. He wanted her that badly.

  She froze, her eyes widening.

  He breathed in, counted to five, breathed out, breathed in, counted to five, breathed out. His chest pushed against her with each inhalation.

  His beast calmed. “Don’t run from me again.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “You belong to me and I belong to you. Resign yourself to that truth.”

  “I’m not free.” Her words were barely audible. “I owe credits to Three-eyed Mak.”

  He looked at her, at her garments, her scuffed boots. What had she purchased with those credits? “I’ll repay what you owe.”

  “The amount is too great for that.” Her breath was surprisingly fresh.

  His gaze dropped to her lips. What would she taste like?

  No tasting. He mentally shook himself. Tasting led to mating and mating could kill his tiny mate. “Let me worry about the credits.”

  Being a Dracheon, he had collected a reasonable-sized hoard over the solar cycles. He carried some of it on him, that weight comforting.

  She jutted her cute little chin. “Let me go. There are other beings you can buy, less expensive than I am.”

  “There are no other beings for me.” He would never release her. “I’m bringing you back to my chambers.”

  “I’m not going with you.” She patted her ragged garments. “And I’m not leaving this pathway without my things. I need them back.”

  What did she have? He crouched, maintaining a grip on his mate’s arm, and examined her loot. “Your things? This is a Rebel memory chip.” He picked it up, recognizing the design.

  “Give that to me.” She snatched it from him. “It’s mine…for now.”

  She plucked two bangles, a tiny knife, and two credits from the ground, stuffed those into her pockets also.

  He doubted any of those objects truly belonged to her.

  “You’re a thief.” Disappointment filled him. “You have no honor.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He lifted one of his eyebrows. “Am I wrong?”

  She spat in his face.

  Surprised by her response, he loosened his hold on her. She yanked her wrist out of his grip, turned, took two steps away from him.

  “I told you not to run from me.” He hooked his arms around her waist and hauled her backward. She battled to be free. Her body rubbed against his.

  His beast roared, grasping control. He bit her nape, puncturing her fragile skin with his sharp teeth. Her blood filled his mouth, the taste intoxicating.

  She went limp in his arms. “Don’t.”

  The fear in her voice pierced the cloud of lust, appealed to his Drache’s primitive need to protect. He became still.

  What the frag was he doing? He had been one wiggle away from ravishing her.

  “Don’t run.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. He licked the wound on her neck. His saliva should soothe his mate’s pain.

  “I won’t.” She made that promise without hesitation.

  He doubted his little thief meant to keep her vow. “I can’t control my beast around you. Don’t provoke it.”

  He flipped her around to face him, hefted her over his right shoulder. She weighed nothing, was lighter than the weapons he carried.

  “We’re returning to my chambers.” He strapped one of his arms over her legs, securing her to him. “You will follow my lead and remain silent.”

  “Or you’ll call me girl in public?” she whispered against his back.

  “We’ve already agreed I would call you child in public.” He had honor, kept his vows. “If you make a fuss, the owner of the domicile will evict us. Then I will be forced to strip you and clean you in a pathway like this one, where anyone could wander by, see you.” The mere thought of viewing his mate naked made his cock bob and his beast rumble. “Everyone will know you’re a female.”

  “I’ll obey you.” The fight in his mate had temporarily evaporated.

  It would return. His instincts told him that.

  Seeking to relocate his mate to a space he could control, he carried her toward the domicile. “Who is the true owner of the memory chip?”

  “I heard some males call her Vicuska.” She lifted his chest covering, skimmed her small hands over his bare back, her touching driving his Drache wild. “You can’t miss her.” Her tone was derisive. “She has red hair, pale skin, big breasts. You’d like her. All the males do.”

  His mate had located the Rebel agent. “Where can I meet with her?”

  She slid a dagger out of the sheath strapped against his spine.

  “That blade won’t pierce my scales.” He told her before she could use it. “Put it back and answer the question.”

  She sighed heavily, as though not being able to stab him had ruined her entire fraggin’ planet rotation. “If I take you to the Rebel female, will you let me go?”

  “I’m not letting you go.” He lifted her higher as he merged into a main pathway. Beings rushed around him. “But you will take me to her.”

  She sniffed, not answering him. No response seemed to be his mate’s default.

  It wasn’t his. “I’ll assume that is a yes.”

  She didn’t return the dagger to its rightful place but she didn’t attempt to use it against him either. Her busy little fingers continued to flit over him, her touch lighter than a breath, enthralling his beast.

  He increased his speed. If she caressed any lower, his Drache would desire more than the brush of her fingertips. Once they reached his chambers, he could put some much-needed distance between them.

  Dare entered the domicile. Heads turned. Some beings, upon seeing Faylee, curled their top lips in disgust.

  That was the same response he normally evoked from his fellow Dracheons. They judged him based on his appearance also.

  The owner of the structure, a tall, broad Palavian female, hurried toward him. Rings sparkled on the fingers of all of her four hands. “Your chambers have been tidied, si
r.” Her smile faded as she spotted his dirt-covered cargo. “This is a respectable establishment. Cave dwellers—”

  “Will be respectable once they are tidied.” He handed a sunstone to the female, paying for her tolerance. “I require a delivery of nourishment bars, containers of beverage, a small flight suit, and two more cleaning cloths for the child.”

  “The boy is your child.” The owner pressed her palms together, the sunstone tucked discreetly between two of her hands. “That changes everything, sir.” She beamed. “We’ll bring those things to your chambers right away.”

  He grunted, not correcting her multiple misconceptions, and walked toward the chambers he had purchased for the rest cycle. If beings thought Faylee was his child, fewer would dare to harm her.

  He placed his right hand on the control panel. The doors opened. He carried his mate into the chamber.

  It was a utilitarian space with a sleeping support, a horizontal support, one chair. A medium-sized viewscreen hung on one of the walls. Not trusting the owner or the locks, he had left none of his belongings in the space.

  He set his dirty female down far from the horizontal support. “I’m removing your garments.”

  She predictably shook her head. His mate’s first response was always no.

  Undeterred, he reached for the rags covering her form.

  She batted his hands away from her. “Turn around. I’ll remove them myself.”

  “If I turn around, you’ll dash out of the chamber.” He wasn’t a fool. “I’m removing your garments and cleaning you. That’s it.”

  Those two tasks would test his control. Desire for her flowed through his body.

  His mate opened her mouth, a protest written all over her filthy face.

  “That wasn’t a question.” He looked sternly at her.

  She dropped her chin and held out her arms, looking delicate and fragile.

  He firmed his resolve. She trusted him not to hurt her. He wouldn’t abuse that trust.

  Dare gripped the bottom of her chest covering. The fabric was slightly moist. Swallowing a grimace, he lifted it over her head and tossed it on the floor beside the doors.

  His dagger, two flashy rings, the memory chip and other items skittered across the chamber. His lips flattened. His little thief had added to her illicit bounty.