Claimed By The Babymaker (Kyrzon Breeding Auction Book 2)

by Luna Voss

  “Ragga,” Lurkka snarls, pointing his sword at us. “You took something that belongs to me.”

  “You are mistaken,” Ragga growls back. He pulls me into an aggressive kiss, his eyes locked with Lurkka’s the entire time. His hand gropes my ass so all the warriors can see. “Lily is my woman. Tonight I will fill her with my seed, as I do every night. And you will be dead.”

  Lurkka’s lips pull back into a snarl. “You dare to defile your superior’s property? Need I remind you that it was I who originally give you permission to look at her in the first place?”

  “He didn’t need your permission,” I announce firmly, finding my strength. “He needed mine. And he has it. I am Ragga’s woman, not yours.”

  The warriors start to spread out, weapons trained, and I look at Ragga nervously. Lurkka flashes us a cruel grin.

  “We’ll see about that,” he snarls, stepping forward, clutching his sword.

  Ragga steps in front of me, his own weapon at the ready. I clutch my bow, prepared for a battle that we can’t possibly win.

  Clan Drokal had better get here soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lurkka lumbers forward, his warriors starting to surround us. Taking quick stock of the situation, I sprint off into the woods. I’m sure that to the Kyrzon warriors, it looks like I’m running away, but in actuality, I’m just trying to get a better range to use my bow. It won’t do me any good in close quarters.

  The enemy warriors start to laugh as they form a circle around my mate. “It looks like your woman has abandoned you,” Lurkka chuckles. “No matter. We will track her down once you are dead.”

  Meanwhile, I’m climbing up a tree, trying to position myself to have the best possible shot. I want to take out as many of them as I can. Our only hope is to keep the battle going until reinforcements arrive.

  “Why don’t you fight me like a man?” Ragga growls to his enemy. “Just you and me. One on one.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” says Lurkka. “Of course, that would be giving up my greatest advantage in this battle. I think not. If you wanted the odds to be even, you should have come here with your own soldiers.”

  Despite Lurkka’s words, I can see that to some degree, Ragga is getting what he wanted. He and Lurkka are now feet from each other, looking as though they’re about to square off with their swords.

  I find a place in the tree that offers me a clear shot and pull an arrow out of my quiver.

  As soon as I start shooting, they’ll know I’m here. I need to make this first shot count.

  I try to target Lurkka, but the way everyone is standing, I’m unable to get a shot without the risk of hitting Ragga. Instead, I aim my bow at the biggest, scariest looking Kyrzon other than Lurkka, a big brute with an enormous battle ax. Keeping the bow trained on the center of his torso, I pull back the string, finding the anchor point on my face just as Ragga taught me.

  I exhale and release the arrow.

  The big Kyrzon lets out a gurgle as the arrow punches into his neck, the tip sticking out visibly from the other side. He clutches at it with his hands for a moment before collapsing to the ground.

  All the warriors turn and stare in shock at their fallen comrade. I press myself against the tree branch next to me, trying to make myself as small as I can.

  “It came from over there!” one of them shouts, pointing in my direction.

  “Go check it out!” shouts Lurkka. Five of the warriors break off from the group and start walking in my direction, looking for me.

  I nock another arrow and aim my bow at the warrior closest to me. I wait until I have the perfect shot, and then fire. The arrow sticks right into his chest, and he falls to the ground.

  All the other Kyrzons startle, staring at him. I quickly take aim at another warrior, and shoot him down too.

  “Find the fucking archer!” Lurkka growls.

  The rest of his men break off from where he and Ragga are standing, also heading in my direction. I shrink against the tree, realizing that my plan has worked a little too well: I may have evened to the odds for Ragga, but now I’m the one in more danger.

  At least I’ve already taken down three of them.

  With a clash of swords, Lurkka and Ragga begin to fight. I watch as the two gigantic Kyrzons throw themselves at each other, weapons flashing in the sunlight. Lurkka takes an enormous swing at Ragga’s head, and Ragga parries it, kicking his enemy in the chest. The other Kyrzon stumbles backward, and then advances for another attack, licking his lips as though hungry for battle.

  My attention is torn away from watching my mate fight as the other warriors begin to close in on me. They don’t know exactly where I am, but they’re getting closer, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hide. I grip my bow, worried that if I fire another shot, it will reveal my location.

  Several of the warriors stop directly below the tree I’m hiding in.

  “Gone,” one of them grunts.

  “I don’t see anyone,” says another.

  “The archer has to be here somewhere. The arrows came from over here.”

  And then, to my horror, one of the Kyrzons below me turns his head up to the sky.

  Recognition flashes across his face as he sees me. Our eyes meet. He reaches for his sword.

  Barely taking the time to aim, I fire an arrow straight down at him. It launches right into his face, the effects of gravity and the short distance making the shot seem almost instantaneous. He drops immediately, my arrow sticking out of the middle of his forehead.

  All the other Kyrzons standing near him jump, and then turn their eyes up to the tree. They all see me at the same time, and I hear them growl in triumph. I prepare for them to climb the tree, and I’m ready to shoot them down as they do so.

  Instead, one of them raises his spear and prepares to throw it at me.

  Not good.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The warrior beneath me launches his spear in my direction. To my incredible luck, he misses, and his weapon sticks into the bark next to me, quivering.

  My relief is short-lived, however, as several of the other warriors are also holding spears. They all take aim, preparing to throw, and I cower.

  I’m fucked. There’s no way all of them are going to miss.

  And then suddenly, another spear enters the picture.

  Not from Lurkka’s men.

  This new spear travels out of nowhere, from somewhere in the woods that I can’t see. It hits one of the Kyrzons attacking me square in the chest, impaling him.

  All the warriors turn their spears to face this new threat, and I gasp in relief. I watch as a new group of Kyrzons bursts out of the woods and lays into Lurkka’s men, roaring as their weapons clash.

  Clan Drokal has finally arrived.

  I can’t help but do a little fist pump of triumph. For the first time since the violence started, it actually seems like Ragga and I might have a chance of making it out of here alive.

  “Lurkka! We’ve got company!” one of the warriors screams before being cut down by a Clan Drokal blade.

  I watch as the battle unfolds, wanting to help, but unable to shoot into the fray for fear of hitting a friendly fighter. The Drokal soldiers start to push Lurkka’s men back, and the center of the violence migrates closer to where Lurkka and Ragga are fighting. I look over at my mate and see him still locked in combat with the other warrior. He’s bleeding from a couple of small cuts, but so is Lurkka. It seems like Ragga is holding his own.

  I’m so preoccupied with following the battle that I don’t even notice that one of Lurkka’s soldiers has made his way to the base of the tree underneath me, and is beginning to climb up. I kick at him, scrambling to pull another arrow from my quiver, but he swats at me, knocking the bow from my hands.

  “I’ve got you now,” he growls, holding onto my leg and pulling me out of the tree. I cling onto a branch, but it’s no use: the enormous alien’s strength and weight are too much for me. I tumble from th
e tree, landing painfully on my back.

  Before I’ve even had a chance to get up, the Kyrzon is on top of me. He puts his hands around my neck, squeezing, and I feel the world around me start to fade away.

  “Go to sleep, you little bitch,” I hear him growling at me. “Go to sleep, and wake up the property of Clan Lurkka.”

  I grab his hands, trying to pry them off my neck, but I can’t. He’s too strong. My eyes land on my bow, a good ten feet away, and I know that I’ll never be able to reach it.

  I’m starting to lose consciousness, my vision fading. My hands scramble around desperately, and one of them finds the wooden shaft of an arrow. I clutch it, gathering my energy for one final attempt to save myself.

  Using every bit of strength that I have, I jam the arrow into my attacker’s face, trying to make contact with the side of my fist, where I know the arrowhead is sticking out. The warrior on top of me grunts, and his hands around my neck loosen. As my vision starts to return, I feel blood dripping down onto me, and I see that I’ve managed to punch the arrow an inch or two into the Kyrzon’s head, right between his jaw and his ear. My hand is still on the arrow, and I continue to push, driving it deeper. My attacker goes limp, his weight falling onto me, and I find myself trapped underneath him.

  I can still hear the battle raging behind me. There’s roaring, swords clanging together, the sounds of someone in pain. Not Ragga. Please not Ragga. I try to wiggle out from under the Kyrzon’s body, but he’s too big. I can’t move.

  Suddenly, someone breaks out of the combat and runs over to me. I look up, prepared to see one of Lurkka’s men.

  It’s Drokal. His sword is wet with blood, and his eyes are blazing. He pulls the warrior’s body off of me and helps me to my feet.

  “Thanks,” I say, relief flooding over me.

  He nods, and then returns to the battle. I pick up my bow.

  It doesn’t look like either side is getting the upper hand. The numbers appear to be roughly equal, although we would be outnumbered had I not shot down several of Lurkka’s men. I try to get a good angle with my bow, but again, I can’t. There’s nothing for me to do but watch.

  Ragga is fighting two warriors at once. One of them is Lurkka, and the other I don’t recognize. They have him backed up against the fence, and it looks like they’re closing in. My mate is making a strong account of himself, but beginning to tire against such overwhelming odds. I watch as he defends attack after attack, his chest heaving.

  I hear a roar, and see Drokal throwing himself at Lurkka and the other fighter. They turn to defend his attack, and Ragga is able to throw Lurkka off of him. The enemy Kyrzon picks himself up off the ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

  Now Ragga and Drokal are fighting back-to-back. Their muscles ripple as they attack and parry, their teamwork allowing them to gain the upper hand over their opponents. The battle rages around them, warriors screaming as they fight. I watch, incredibly nervous for my mate, wishing I could use my bow to help him.

  Drokal manages to cut down the warrior he is fighting with. I see Ragga glance at him, and they share a look. The two of them then turn on Lurkka, backing him up against the fence with heavy blows.

  “You’re scum,” Lurkka bellows, kicking Drokal to the ground and locking swords with Ragga. “I want you to die knowing that you never truly owned that woman.”

  Ragga lands a hard elbow on Lurkka’s face, knocking him back. The scraggly-bearded Kyrzon snarls and swings his sword, but Ragga blocks it easily.

  “I want you to die knowing that you will never feel the warmth of Lily’s thighs,” Ragga growls, swinging his sword mightily and pushing Lurkka back. “Your body will rot on this battlefield while her cunt drips with my seed and her belly grows swollen with my child.”

  Ragga lands another enormous blow, only barely parried by Lurkka’s sword. It looks almost like the fight between them is finished.

  But Lurkka still has more strength in him. He throws himself at Ragga like a man possessed, swinging his sword wildly.

  Around them, the Clan Drokal soldiers are gaining the upper hand, and Lurkka’s remaining men are starting to fall. I see Drokal charge at Lurkka from behind, and the warrior is only barely able to evade the attack in time.

  Ragga and Drokal make eye contact, and I see them nod at each other. Some kind of wordless understanding passes between them.

  And then they split apart and begin to close in on Lurkka from two sides. My one-time owner sees this and tries to avoid the pincer attack, but it’s no use. The two warriors are working in unison, not allowing him to get any space.

  Lurkka’s eyes dart from side to side as Ragga and Drokal prepare to attack. His warriors are losing badly, and his own fight is starting to slip away from him. Making a decision, Lurkka turns and begins to run away from the battle.

  “I’ll be back,” he snarls over his shoulder as he retreats. “Mark my fucking words, Ragga, I will kill you and reclaim my woman.”

  Not if I have anything to say about it, I think, nocking an arrow in my bow and taking aim.

  I have a clear shot now that Lurkka has removed himself from the thick of the fighting. As he sprints into the woods away from the battle, I draw the bowstring back to my cheek and exhale, mustering all of my focus.

  I fire the arrow. Keeping my bow trained on my target the way Ragga showed me, I watch as the projectile makes an arc through the air, hurtling toward the escaping Kyrzon.

  Lurkka stumbles and falls to the ground, my arrow sticking out of his back, right between his shoulder blades.

  Ragga and Drokal both growl in triumph, and then look over and see me holding the bow. Ragga makes eye contact, and I melt a little bit at the intensity of the pride I see in his eyes.

  When I look back to the battle, I see that the combat is over. What few of Lurkka’s men were still fighting have surrendered upon seeing their leader flee. They drop their swords, falling to their knees in an obvious gesture of submission.

  Ragga ignores completely the scene around him. He marches over to me and scoops me up in his arms, squeezing me tightly as my feet leave the ground.

  “I’m so lucky to have you,” Ragga breathes into my ear. “Lily, there would be no life for me without you. You’re my one, my everything.”

  I squeeze him back, burying my face in his neck. “I love you, Ragga,” I whisper. “I love you so much.”

  Drokal makes his way up to us as we release our embrace. “Nice shot,” he says to me. He then turns to my mate. “You have yourself quite a woman there, Ragga,” he tells him approvingly. “I see why you were willing to fight for her.”

  “I would die for her,” Ragga says quietly.

  “Well, if you ever get tired of having to fight and die for your woman, there’s always a home for you in Drokal Territory,” says the chief. “We could use another good fighter.”

  Ragga looks at Drokal, and it’s obvious to me that the relationship between them has changed. Far from the disrespect and mistrust of before, I now see mutual respect in both their eyes.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Ragga grunts. “If Lily and I had been living in the Capital, we wouldn’t have been nearly so easy to attack.”

  My heart soars, and I grab Ragga’s hand, nuzzling it. He wraps his arm around me.

  “Anything for you, my love,” he whispers to me. “For you, and for our family.”

  Epilogue

  “Can’t you at least give me a hint?” I ask Cleo as she leads me into the woods outside the Capital.

  “Nope,” says Cleo, laughing. “You’re just going to have to find out what a Clan Drokal mating ceremony is like for yourself.”

  It’s evening, a couple of months after the battle. Ragga and I have moved into the Drokal capital together, and now occupy a comfortable dwelling right next to Castle Drok. Right now, Cleo is taking me to my mating ceremony, an important ritual within their clan. I know nothing about what is to happen, only that Ragga has been away somewhere all day preparing
for it, and I haven’t been allowed to see him.

  Well, that, and apparently the ceremony involves me being naked. Because right now, at Cleo’s instruction, I’m wearing only a tusk-bear fur cloak, and not a single thing underneath it. The fur feels warm and soft on my skin.

  “Will the ceremony be long?” I ask. I know my friend wants it to be a surprise, but I’m intensely curious about the ritual I’m about to perform.

  “No, not long,” says Cleo, holding her now-visibly pregnant belly. “Now, no more questions.”

  We come out into a large field, where it seems like the entire clan is assembled and waiting. I gulp. I’ve always felt nervous being the center of attention.

  At the head of the field is a big bonfire, and a naked, muscular figure stands in front of it. I recognize the figure immediately as Ragga.

  “You go up there and join him,” says Cleo, pointing. “Good luck!”

  Slowly, I head to the front of the field, feeling very self-conscious. As I get closer to Ragga, I can see that his entire body is covered in intricate patterns of red body paint. That must be what he had to spend the entire day preparing for. Ragga makes eye contact with me, and I smile at him, my anxiety fading. He looks quite sexy with his body all painted up.

  An elderly Kyrzon I recognize as a priest steps forward from the crowd and stands between Ragga and me. “We are gathered here on this night to witness the union of Ragga and Lily,” he announces to the assembled Kyrzons.

  “May their children be many,” the crowd recites back in unison.

  The priest stands in front of Ragga, and I see my mate stand up straight, paying close attention. “Ragga, great warrior, I have but one question for you,” says the priest. “Is Lily your woman?”

  “She is,” confirms Ragga, beaming with pride.

  The priest walks over to me, and I inhale as he stops in front of where I’m standing. “Lily, representative of humankind, I have but one question for you. Is Ragga your man?”