Untamable Lover (Worlds of Lemuria: Earth Colony Book 2)

by Rosalie Redd

  Adrenaline fueled by her fear and anguish raced through her veins. She couldn’t control the fluctuation in her voice when she spoke. “You are our leader. How could I not do whatever was necessary to bring you back?”

  “Your desire to revive me is admirable, but I have to live with the shadow of those females’ deaths. Why were Kitani and Jonue—mated females—with you in the first place?”

  What could she say? She’d broken his rule and let the mated females spar and fight. If he was mad before, wait until he realized what she’d done. She raised her chin and held his gaze. “I did what was necessary to lead this Pride while you were in a coma. I allowed the mated females to train for battle. Kitani and Jonue were ready to fight.”

  “You did what?” His face reddened and a tick pulsed in his jaw. “You trained the mated females and purposefully took two into the forest prepped for combat? Let me guess,” he rubbed his goatee with his fingers, “the Gossum found you. Didn’t they?”

  Her own ire built in response, but the deaths hung heavy on her spirit. “Demir. It’s my fault—”

  “No. It. Is. Not.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Although he’d regained his composure, the way his muscles bunched let her know his control was razor-thin. “As Pride leader, the responsibility lies on my shoulders.”

  His pressed lips and creased brow revealed his torment and pain. “Aramie, as you have broken my rules and lives were lost as a result, I have no choice but to strip you of your role. You are no longer my second in command.”

  She gaped at him. A deep pain built inside. Her vision swam. A soft whimper escaped her lips turning into a single word. “Nooooo.”

  She reached for the wall to steady herself. His powerful hands gripped her arms, and she fell against him. This male she’d respected and cared for had ripped her insides to shreds, tossing her pride and sense of self-worth on the ground like scrap, yet she couldn’t help her need for his comfort.

  “I’m sorry, Aramie. I had no choice but to mete out punishment.” He massaged her scalp at the base of her neck with his strong fingers. She trembled in his embrace, her devastation and humiliation complete. When he spoke, his words were a harsh whisper. “You knew better, yet you took this chance—for me. Why?”

  I care about you, more than I should. Unwilling to look at him, she pulled away and focused on the ground. He let her retreat only so far then lifted her chin. She expected to see pity, but instead raw desire burned in his eyes.

  Heat flooded her core, the warmth a gentle surprise. He traced a finger down her jawline, and around to her bottom lip. His gaze riveted there. She licked her lips, and a shiver made her tremble in anticipation.

  With a slow grace, he pulled her to him, nearly brushing his lips against hers. A slow moan eased from her parted mouth.

  “If I kiss you…I may not stop.” His smoky words stoked her desire.

  She knew he was trouble, but she couldn’t resist him.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Demir held Aramie tight. The walls in the infirmary closed around him, pinpointing his vision on the female in his arms. The sunstones dimmed and illuminated her face in a soft radiance. Her sweet scent filtered into his senses. Although he didn’t understand what drove his sudden desire to taste her plump lips, he couldn’t resist the pull she had on him. He’d given her one last chance to deny him, but instead, she’d spurred him on.

  Her panted breaths tickled his skin. The slight breeze of her exhalations tingled the hair on his goatee. Her mouth beckoned to him, and her tongue glided over her bottom lip, stirring a craving he’d never encountered. A strange need to claim her filtered into his mind. He didn’t hesitate, capturing her lips with his own. Her wet, warm mouth greeted him, and she moaned under his onslaught.

  He wasn’t gentle with her, his kiss bruising in its intensity. His heart pounded, pumping blood through his veins. Her fingers trailed along his neck and into his untamed hair. With a tight squeeze, her nails bit into the skin on his scalp, marking him in her own way. A fire burned to life in his chest, fueled by her brazen attitude. Male Panthera were the aggressors, the females passive and submissive. For her to be so bold was unheard of in their culture. Despite the traditions, or maybe in spite of them, he reacted to her with his own need to claim.

  A low growl erupted from his throat, and he broke their kiss. He gazed into her eyes and bared his fangs in a sign of dominance, a traditional move before he bit her and marked her as his. Her eyes dilated in response, but she stiffened in his arms. The contradictory message confused him. He closed his mouth, shielding his fangs, and let her go.

  Aramie stepped away. Her furrowed brow and clenched fists made him wince.

  Beads of sweat broke out on his skin. His mind fogged. What was he doing? He’d almost bitten her and claimed her as his mate. The temperature in the room plummeted as the Keep reacted to the emotions in the room. A soft rumble shook the walls. The sweat on his arms and back sent a chill racing along his skin. Tension held his muscles taut, along with the realization he’d almost tied himself to a female without much thought. He swallowed the lump of ice-cold fear that had lodged itself in the back of his throat.

  Aramie stood her ground and stared at him. “Why…did you…”

  Up until now, she’d been a loyal warrior, and from the day they’d met, she’d made it clear she had no intention of becoming a mated female. Then, why had she begged for his kiss, and why did he kiss her? Better yet, why did he want to mark her as his? He shook his head, giving her the best answer he had.

  Her cheeks reddened and her lips pursed, but she didn’t break eye contact. Her will and determination sent bolts of desire through his body. He didn’t want this. She was nothing like Eleanor. Eleanor had been the best mate a male could ask for—contrite, willing, subservient, quiet—all excellent traits for a mated female. Aramie had none of those qualities and never would. Deep in the recesses of his mind a single word echoed—good.

  Aramie held his gaze for a moment then closed her eyes. Her shoulders visibly tensed, as if shuttering herself from him. “Gaetan is waiting for us. We should see Noeh.” She raised her chin, creases lining her forehead. Despite it all, she still had her pride.

  He nodded. “Yes, the king. I’m sure he has many questions.”

  He didn’t want to face Noeh, not after everything that had happened with Melissa. From Aramie’s constant litany while he’d been comatose, he’d learned Melissa had bonded with Noeh and was now his queen. She’d born a son, the new prince. He cringed at how he’d treated her. Once the fluid in the dart had filtered into his bloodstream, his warped mind had cleared. His obsession over Melissa had gone too far. He needed to make amends to both the king and the queen.

  “After you.” He waved his hand toward the door.

  His prior second in command passed in front of him. Her strawberry scent lingered and reminded him of their passionate embrace. A part of him longed to kiss her again. Frustration built in his veins, and he slammed the door on his way out.

  Chapter Twenty

  The bare bulb in the middle of the room cast an eerie glow around the cellar. Ram raised his arms and extended his claws. Against the bare wall, his shadow distorted his true size, making him appear bigger, his claws longer. Euphoria caused his skin to prickle.

  The syringes filled with the female’s blood leaned against the back of the rickety table like little soldiers ready for battle. Ram had perfected the dosage, duplicating the red blood cells until he’d created enough serum for his entire brood. Unwilling to share the first dose with anyone else, he’d taken the initial hit. A shiver ran down his arm. The new power he possessed would turn him into a creature like his menacing shadow.

  Gods, the rush of energy that had coursed through his veins still made him weak with want and brought back memories of another drug, one not nearly as potent. He shook his head. Even after months of not using any heroin, he still craved the high. Too
bad the drug no longer worked on his body.

  Changed from human to freak almost a year ago, he’d been initiated into this band of Gossum by his prior boss, Ashton. Too bad the old chump hadn’t pleased their touchy god, Zedron. Ashton had met an untimely end, one Ram intended to avoid. If the replication worked, he’d be fine.

  The scent of stale earth mixed with the sulfur from the chemicals he’d used to create the serum. Beakers lined the tables, surrounded by paper cups and empty vodka bottles from last night’s celebration. Obtaining the Panthera’s blood before they killed her was crucial. Since the Lemurians disintegrated so quickly once dead, he had to steal the vital fluid before they died.

  He chuckled at the memory of the Panthera struggling beneath one of his brood’s grasp. The scent of fear had infiltrated into his brain, intensifying his desire for the kill. He’d obtained the blood before the lust broke free. Score one for his team.

  “My lord?” Jakar peered through the open door at the top of the stairs. The light from the kitchen encircled his head like a halo, backlighting his face into a mask of shadows. Ram snickered. An angel his first lieutenant was not.

  “Jakar, c’mon down. You’re the next contestant on The Price of Your Life.” Giddiness overwhelmed Ram’s senses, and he clapped his hands together. The sound absorbed into the dirt walls in an uncanny fashion.

  Jakar took a couple of tentative steps. “You seem…happy, my lord.”

  “Oh, yes.” Ram accentuated the word and it came out in a long hiss. “As my first lieutenant, I’m giving you an…opportunity. Please, come.” He waved his hand in the air.

  “As you wish, my lord.” Jakar descended the stairs. His thin build and short stature belied the strength and stamina he possessed. He fought with astonishing speed and agility. Ram couldn’t ask for a better sidekick.

  “This,” Ram brushed his hand over the plastic containers filled with serum, “is the key to our success.”

  Jakar sucked in an audible breath. “Is this—” he glanced at Ram, “all serum?”

  “I knew there was a reason I made you my first lieutenant.” Ram chuckled and placed his arm over his comrade’s shoulder.

  “How did you make so much?”

  “I copied the blood cells and—”

  Jakar’s eyebrows furrowed.

  “…uh, never mind.” Ram pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Since Gossum were culled from the derelict portion of human society, he often forgot the average “Joe” hadn’t had his medical training. Jakar would never understand all the jargon. “Suffice it to say, there is enough for the entire brood.”

  “Noeh and his kind don’t stand a chance.” Jakar looked at Ram. “Have you tried it yet?”

  “What do you think?” Ram raised an eyebrow.

  “Show me.” Jakar’s body trembled, his eyes brightened.

  “I’d rather you experience the serum for yourself.” Ram picked a syringe off the table. He flicked the needle’s tip with his finger. Droplets of liquid flew through the air. “Here. Enjoy.”

  Without waiting for a response, Ram jabbed the needle into Jakar’s shoulder and pressed the plunger.

  Jakar didn’t flinch. When the vial was empty, Ram tossed the syringe onto the table. The plastic container bounced a few times before coming to rest next to a pair of pliers.

  Jakar’s face reddened. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, snapping in the air like a whip. “It burns. My blood—what have you done?”

  “Feels wonderful, doesn’t it? Try to shift.” Ram stepped back, giving his first lieutenant the maximum amount of space in the middle of the room.

  Jakar keeled over, his hand covering his abdomen. His face contorted into a mask of pain. “You didn’t say it would hurt.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Ram’s mouth. “I rather like it that way.”

  On his hands and knees, Jakar’s body arched. Rapid breaths expended from his lungs. Saliva dripped from his mouth onto the dirt floor, the small drops darkening the surface.

  His feet and hands transformed into paws. Serrated teeth enlarged into canines. His chest expanded and his waist shrunk. The khaki pants and dark polo shirt he wore disappeared under his skin.

  A thrill ran along Ram’s arms. “You’re an ugly son of a bitch, you know that?”

  Jakar snarled and circled Ram. Where the Panthera had dark black coats covering their skin, his first lieutenant was as hairless as a newborn babe.

  “It seems we can change, but are still without hair. What a pity.” Ram tsked.

  On unsteady feet, Jakar took a tentative step forward. His front legs shook, and he stumbled. A soft gasp escaped his lips as his chin connected with the dirt floor. He shook his head and righted himself once again.

  Jakar changed back, his clothes reforming on to his body as if he’d never removed them. He rolled his shoulders, as if shaking away the last of the pain. “This will take some time to get used to. How long will this skill last before it wears off?”

  Ram raised an eyebrow. “If the shield power I stole from that female Dren, Melissa, is any indication, I’d guess a couple of weeks.”

  “Excellent. Shall I distribute the rest of the serum to the brood?”

  Ram nodded. “Once you’ve completed the task, take them outside for a little run. They’ll need time to practice with their new form.”

  “As you command, my lord.” Jakar bowed. He scooped up the syringes and ran up the stairs.

  Alone in the basement, Ram rubbed his chin, the old habit engrained in his memory even though the beard was long gone. “I shall win this war for you, Zedron.”

  Once he’d won, Earth would become a slave planet. Ram looked forward to shackling the humans, forcing them to bend to his will. This would give him the chance to prove to Sheri he wasn’t a failure. Ah, Sheri.

  He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. The leather had survived his tumble into the river, but the contents, not so much. With careful fingers, he pulled out the water-damaged picture and stroked his ex-wife’s grainy image. “Not much longer, my love, not much longer.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Demir stood outside the carved wooden double doors of the king’s Throne room, Aramie at his side. Cool air drifted along the corridor, and the smell of the morning repast made his stomach rumble. A trip to the Grand Hall after this meeting was on his agenda. First, though, he had to eat some crow.

  Apologizing to Noeh and Melissa was not something he could put off. He’d been a world-class ass to both of them. Hell, he’d tried to steal the crown and the queen. Such a great guy, huh?

  He glanced at Aramie. She held her head high and squared her shoulders. Her lips were still reddened and plump from their kiss, and his lips tingled at the memory. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but she gnawed her bottom lip with her teeth. She’s more nervous than I am.

  He hadn’t wanted to strip her of her role. She was damn good at leading the Pride under his direction, but he’d had no choice. He couldn’t show mercy. She’d broken one of the old laws. He should’ve punished her more, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She gave a curt nod. “Whenever you are.”

  His knuckles rapped against the worn grain of the old oak door.

  Footsteps approached on the other side. The double doors opened wide, creating their own draft. Aramie’s perfume raced by, tickling his nose.

  Jax, Noeh’s personal attendant, and one of the Jixies in the Keep, stared at Demir. His eyes widened, his mouth rounded, and his little body shook. “Y-you’re awake? Oh, my.” He turned his back and peered into the room. “Oh, Your Majesty, you won’t believe who’s here. Oh, my, no, you won’t. It’s Demir, it’s really him. He’s alive. Well, I mean…he was always alive, but now he’s awake…and Aramie is here, too.”

  A moment of silence, then Noeh’s deep chuckle emanated from within the room. “Yes, Gaetan mentioned something along those lines. Please let them in, Jax.”

&nb
sp; Jax stepped aside, his body shaking with nervous energy. As Demir walked by, Jax tracked him with large, round eyes full of wonder.

  Two wooden statues of ancient Stiyaha warriors guarded the entryway. Cuffs surrounded their forearms and short swords dangled from their waists. The figures looked menacing and signified the strength and power the Stiyaha possessed. Carved centuries ago, the aged wood still smelled of oak from the constant polishing they received.

  Noeh sat in his ornate wooden chair at the back of the room, Melissa and their son, Anlon, by his side. Per Alora’s and Veromé’s decree, the Stiyaha King was the leader of all the Lemurian species.

  “Your Majesty.” Demir bent on one knee and bowed his head. Aramie followed suit and kneeled beside him.

  “Demir, Aramie, rise. It is good to see you again.” The old chair creaked as Noeh rose from his seat. The King stood well over six and a half feet tall and had the typical muscular Stiyaha build. He wore the traditional black slacks and white button-down shirt that all the warriors wore, tailored by the Jixies. The sunstone ring on his middle finger set him apart as king along with the gold crown coiled around his head. His unique marking circled his right eye—three straight, black lines over his eyebrow connected by a thin line around his eye to two swirls over his cheek.

  Melissa, the queen, had the opposite marking surrounding her left eye. From what he’d heard Aramie say while he was in his coma, the marking was part of the bonding between mates. Melissa seemed so small next to Noeh. As a female Dren, she used to be one of his slaves. Her red hair shone in the light, and her green eyes glittered with happiness. She held the new prince in her lap.

  Guilt stung Demir in the gut. He fought the urge to flinch. In his madness, his obsession over her had driven him to nearly force her to become his concubine. He’d almost crossed the line when he’d confronted her about the pregnancy, but Aramie had stopped him. Good thing she had.

  “King Noeh, I offer my sincerest apology.” The words were bitter on his tongue. As much as he really meant them, bowing to another male fought against his alpha tendencies.