A Rebel's Rules (Dark Star Doms Book 1)

by Ivy Barrett

  He groaned when he moved the affected arm, but they managed to rid him of his shirt. Corry angled his body toward the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves. He swayed. She steadied him, lifting her gaze. Perspiration gleamed upon his cheeks and dotted his upper lip.

  “You look terrible. Sit down before you fall.” Without a word, he slumped to the grass, his eyes bright and dazed. “You packed the schooner’s medical kit. It might have an antitoxin.”

  He just stared at her and Corry’s heart lodged in her throat. The holes in his shoulder swelled, becoming inflamed and red. She turned his arm so she could reach the control panel. He didn’t try to stop her, which compounded her fear. He sat there staring, swaying slowly back and forth.

  As soon as the cuff released, she unhooked it from her wrist and reached around him for the supply bag. Please, God, let there be an antitoxin. Fingers shaking, she struggled to unknot the rope.

  Ashton groaned and collapsed onto his side.

  “Shit!” Frantic now, she clawed at the rope. It gave and she opened the pillowcase, spilling its contents into the grass. She snatched up the medical kit and struggled with the latch. Bandages, ointments—damn it, where was the mister? Finding the cylindrical device, she quickly sorted through the inserts. An antibiotic, two pain relievers…

  “Yes!” She grabbed the tube labeled Antitoxin and shoved it into the mister. “Hold on. This should do the trick.” She opened his mouth and depressed the trigger, releasing a cloud of mist.

  Hot. His skin smoldered under her palm. The puncture wounds started to seep and Corry let out a frightened cry. “Come on, Ashton. You can’t die on me now. Who would I antagonize?”

  He moaned. His body went rigid and then began to shake. Fuck! Was his fever triggering the seizure or was this an effect of the poison? She straightened his limbs, moving the supplies away from him and rolling him onto his side.

  She grabbed his shirt and ran to the pool, drenching the garment in cool water. Spreading the shirt over his torso, she smoothed her wet hands over his face. His body heat quickly saturated the shirt, making the material feel warm.

  Stripping off the utility jumper, she doused it in the pool. She exchanged his shirt for the cool jumper and hurried back to the water’s edge. Could she roll him into the water? Why’d he have to be so damn big?

  By the time she’d switched out the garments for the third time, his body relaxed and his breathing evened. He still felt hot, but his temperature had definitely lowered. She turned her attention to the puncture wounds. They had closed off, forming high, pus-filled blisters. Her stomach heaved and she gagged.

  “I’m not a freaking doctor. How am I supposed to know what to do?”

  Common sense had guided her so far. He was hot, she’d cooled him down.

  Okay, think. You don’t want the poison spreading, so you’ve got to let it out.

  Rummaging through the medical kit, she found a “splinter remover”. The thin strip of metal formed a distinct point sharp enough to lance the blisters. She opened several packets of absorbent gauze and braced herself for the task ahead.

  She poked the first blister and shuddered as the pus oozed out. “I am not cut out for this.” Holding her breath against the smell, she repeated the process over and over until all of the blisters were lanced.

  Gently lifting one lid, she gazed at his eye and then laughed at her own foolishness. “What the hell are you checking for? You don’t know what’s good or bad.”

  He felt cooler. His breathing was slow and steady. What else should she do? As her panic receded, she glanced down at herself. Wearing only her panties, she knelt beside her unconscious captor. What a mess!

  “Is your companion injured?”

  “Where did you come from?”

  Gasping at the softly spoken questions, Corry folded her arms over her breasts and looked behind her. Two young men stood near the pool, one blond, one dark-haired. They stared at her with a mixture of fascination and mistrust.

  “Our ship crashed into the trees. We were trying to find a settlement when an animal attacked my companion.”

  The dark-haired man moved forward. “What are his injuries?”

  “It had quills in its tail and it shot them right at me.” Her tone grew soft and distracted as the memory replayed within her mind. “Ashton jumped in front of me. He saved my life.”

  “I am Lutton. Did you remove the quills?”

  “Yes. Was that wrong? I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “They needed to be removed, but the quills of a malignari are incredibly poisonous.”

  Corry glanced at her hands and gasped. Her fingers were swollen, her skin starting to blister.

  “Go get help,” Lutton called to his friend. “We will need a litter for the man.”

  “I gave him an antitoxin mist. Is he still in danger?”

  Lutton’s grave expression sent a chill through Corry. The pounding in her head intensified and her vision blurred.

  “You are both in danger.”

  Lutton’s words followed her into the void.

  Chapter Seven

  Wishing her hair were three inches longer, Corry took a deep breath and entered the hut. The sweltering heat made clothing optional as far as the Perrlain Tribe was concerned. Most wore a scrap of material wrapped around their hips, but Corry had never seen so many naked breasts in one place.

  Ashton sat, legs crossed in front of him, attempting to force down some unrecognizable substance contained in the bowl he held. He looked up at her entrance and smiled. His dark gaze caressed her mostly naked body and her nipples hardened in response.

  “Now this is much more interesting than their idea of food. When did you become so uninhibited?”

  “Facing death can change your attitude about a lot of things.” The Perrlain didn’t bother with furniture. She could join him on the pallet or stand. She stood. “You look better.”

  “I feel better.” He chuckled and set the bowl aside. “Guess that’s not surprising.” Solemn intensity replaced the amusement in his gaze. “Thank you seems pretty lame when you owe someone your life.”

  “I’m extremely thankful.” She watched the bunch and flex of his muscles as he pushed to his feet. “You didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

  He moved toward her. “I was talking about me. You worked like hell to keep me alive. I drifted in and out of consciousness, but I was more aware than you realize.”

  “If you hadn’t jumped in front of me in the first place, you wouldn’t have needed saving. I was just returning the favor.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You’re emanating the most bizarre combination of emotions.” He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

  “My life has been one calamity after another since we snatched you off Halley Prime.” Even knowing it was ridiculous to blame him, she couldn’t resist the accusation. He just chuckled, so she moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “You were supposed to be an arrogant, self-absorbed jerk. That way I could hate you.”

  “I’m definitely arrogant, and I can be self-absorbed. Why don’t you hate me?” His warm fingers swept up and down her spine, making her skin tingle.

  His embrace felt wonderful and natural. She snuggled against him, stroking his back and inhaling his scent. “I’ve tried to hate you. This would all be so much easier if I could.”

  “But you don’t?”

  Easing back far enough so she could look into his eyes, she let affection heat her gaze. “You know exactly how I feel about you.”

  A sexy smile parted his lips. “We’ve cheated death twice since leaving Borrelly. I think we should find a way to celebrate.”

  She heaved a ragged sigh and dragged her gaze away from his handsome face. “Unfortunately, the Perrlain agree with you.”

  He raised her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. “What are you talking about?”

  “We’ve got serious trouble.” Tension coiled withi
n her. How the hell was she going to make him understand what Lutton had just told her? “Most of this tribe wants us dead.”

  “They just spent three days nursing us back to health.” His brows drew together and confusion clouded his eyes. “Why do they want us dead?”

  “The Perrlain are separatists. They migrated to Temple-Tuttle decades before the catastrophe. The elders believe the Deity allowed the comet to destroy Shardrake because the population squandered the sacred resources.”

  “Shardrake was destroyed because we didn’t appreciate the planet?”

  “It’s more complicated than that. They believe we failed to value the divine gift of life and all its bounties. They find our materialism and lack of faith intolerable.”

  “Then wouldn’t they want us gone as soon as possible, before we contaminate their tribe?” His tone was light and playful. Mischief sparkled in his eyes.

  She narrowed her gaze. “This is serious.”

  He teased her skin with his thumbs. Each feathery caress made her more aware of her nakedness.

  “I’m listening.” He smiled lazily.

  “Lutton has been interceding with the elders on our behalf, but he can—”

  “Who is Lutton?”

  “He’s the chief’s son and we’re damn lucky he found us.” She rubbed her eyes and twisted away from his light hold. “I don’t know where to begin.”

  “Begin where I blacked out.”

  “I’d stabilized your fever, but the antitoxin only slowed the spread of the poison. It wasn’t neutralized. Lutton and his lover came to the pool to pray and found us. Lutton sent Baylott for help. I passed out before Baylott returned, but apparently the tribe’s healer refused to treat us. He said the Deity obviously wanted us dead.”

  “And how did the healer come to this conclusion?” Ashton crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pressed together.

  “We survived the crash only to be attacked by a malignari.”

  “Is that what you call those little monsters?”

  She nodded. “By saving a life, the Perrlain believe you interfere with the will of the Deity.”

  “Doesn’t their healer interfere every time he or she treats someone?”

  “We didn’t fall ill. We were attacked by a malignari. The Perrlain believe they’re the Deity’s henchmen, delivering punishments for secret sins.”

  “Wonderful. So what do we have to do to repay our debt to the elders?” Ashton raked his fingers through his hair, pacing the narrow breadth of the hut.

  “This is where it gets tricky. Our debt isn’t owed to the elders. It’s owed to the entire tribe and to the Deity. As I said, Lutton is the chief’s son and the Perrlains’ thinking on such matters is almost reversed from more common philosophies. The tribe doesn’t belong to its leaders. The leaders belong to the tribe.”

  Ashton pushed his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed. “What does this have to do with us?”

  “You saved me, I saved you, and Lutton saved us both.”

  “How did Lutton save both of us? Did some of the quills hit you?”

  She shook her head. “I contaminated myself when I pulled them out of your shoulder. Lutton gave us the antidote even though the healer forbade it.”

  Ashton sat on the pallet and crossed his legs. His short, flimsy garment tempted her to peek beneath. Wet heat curled through her body. Maybe the price of freedom wasn’t so high after all. Except for the tribe and Lutton…

  “What do we have to do? I gather the Deity doesn’t accept coalition credits.”

  “That part is called the Celebration of Life, but I’ll take you through this a step at a time.” She glanced away from his handsome face and took a deep breath. “We have to prove ourselves worthy to participate in the celebration, and the tribe, as a whole, makes that decision.”

  “How? What makes us worthy in the eyes of the tribe?”

  “Respect of their traditions and a willingness to abandon pride.” She tried to remember as many of the phrases Lutton had used as possible. He made it sound so spiritual, so exalted. “There are three stages along the journey toward worthiness. Giving, receiving and sharing.”

  “What exactly would we give, receive and share?”

  “Pleasure. We must eagerly give pleasure to one of the tribe members and we must willingly receive pleasure in return. Last, we must share in the pleasure of others. Only then will we be allowed to bring our offering before the Deity.”

  His dark eyes gleamed, but she couldn’t read his expression. What she wouldn’t give for his empathic abilities right now.

  “You still haven’t told me what we’re supposed to offer,” he reminded her.

  “A tangible expression of our gratitude and a demonstration of our commitment to celebrate life.”

  “What exactly do we have to do?”

  “Fuck.” She snapped out the word, embarrassed yet wary. Wait until he realized the specifics. “The festival sounds more or less harmless. We pleasure them, they pleasure us, and then we watch them screw. We all sleep under the stars around the ceremonial fire, and at sunrise the tribe decides if we’re worthy or not.”

  “Define pleasure. What are they allowed to do and who is allowed to do it?”

  “I’m not sure who, but Lutton said no more than three will participate in the giving. They will abide by our sexual orientation and we only have to come once.”

  “Well, thank the Deity for that.” His sarcasm made her cringe. “Are we talking touching and kissing, or licking and sucking? You’re still leaving a lot up to interpretation.”

  “I think they can do whatever it takes to accomplish the goal, so the faster we come the less…”

  “This is one interesting religion. I’m surprised they’re not more popular.” His chuckle sounded almost sincere.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m strong enough to travel.”

  “We can’t.” She met his gaze directly, her heart pounding in her chest. “They’ll kill Lutton. He saved our lives. We can’t just walk away.”

  “Then we’ll take him with us. It might be good to have a—”

  “He’s the chief’s son. He belongs to the tribe. They have provided him with the best of everything knowing he will guide and protect them when his father’s time has passed.”

  Aghast, he spread his arms and shook his head. “What the hell are you suggesting? You want to go through with this ritual?” He studied her silently for a moment. “You said we don’t have to fuck the tribe members to be found worthy. What about Lutton? What does this Celebration of Life entail?”

  Overcome by self-consciousness, Corry crossed her arms over her breasts. She should have let Lutton explain it. He’d done a much better job. She didn’t subscribe to their beliefs, but he’d helped her understand them. “After the tribe finds us worthy, we will be purified. Then at sunset, we go to the Cliffs of Enarre and…Lutton has left the actual logistics up to us.”

  “Am I supposed to find that comforting?”

  “The Perrlain have a very unusual attitude about sexuality. The concept of permanent mates is alien to them. They’re a true community, sharing everything. They put no more significance on sexual desire than on hunger. They eat because they’re hungry and food is enjoyable. They have sex with anyone who stirs their desire because it feels good.”

  “What about children?”

  “Children belong to the entire community and are nurtured by all.” Impatient to get to the heart of the matter, Corry tossed her head, sending her hair back out of her face. “They’re not asking us to join the tribe, just respect their beliefs.”

  “By participating in an orgy?” He scowled. “I put more importance on my sexual encounters than a good meal. Stop avoiding the question. What do we do when we get to the Cliffs of Enarre?”

  “Lutton will have to join with each of us or we’ll all have to join together for the ceremony to be complete.”

  “I’m heterosex
ual. He’s not touching me. I say we fight our way out.”

  She shook her head. Ashton still didn’t understand. “They won’t stop us if we try to leave. They’ll simply sacrifice Lutton.”

  Silence stretched between them. Ashton looked at her, averted his gaze, then stared at her some more. “Have you ever been with two men at once?”

  She shook her head, glancing away from his fierce expression.

  “I didn’t think so.” After another long pause, he asked, “Is it something you’ve fantasized about?”

  Licking her lips, she dragged her gaze back to his face. “For about a year after my father died I had a belated fit of adolescent angst. I experimented with a lot of things, including reality simulators.”

  “That’s how you knew about the Pleasure Palace. They have the best reality simulators in the sector.”

  She laughed. “They have the only reality simulators that provide the sort of experience I was after. I only went a couple times. I…saw someone I knew really well and never went back.”

  “Hundreds of people visit the Pleasure Palace every day. Why would—”

  “My brother was one of the Pleasure Masters. I only used the simulators, but I was taken on a tour of the dungeons and there he was. He was masked of course, but he has a birthmark on his thigh. I just couldn’t go back, knowing he was there.”

  “That would definitely ruin the mood.” He held out his hand and smiled. His gaze warm and inviting. She joined him on the pallet, curving her legs to one side. “So, you’ve experienced the simulation of two lovers, but you’ve never—”

  “The simulation progressed in stages. That would have happened during my fourth session.”

  His dark gaze caressed her face, searching, assessing. “If Lutton risked his life to help us, we need to help him, but I’m sensing something else. You want to do this. The tribal test, the moonlit ritual, all of it excites you.”

  “I… It’s not like I want to… This isn’t that much different than the simulation. We can abandon ourselves to the pleasure, knowing we’ll never see these people again.” She took a deep breath and rushed on. “Besides, we have no choice.”