Shay lifted her arms from her lap and folded them on the table. “I’m asking you.”
“Some of them didn’t. Some of them were…almost friends. But the rest either threatened me or the people I cared about, so it doesn’t matter to me whether they deserved it or not.”
She nodded. “And the rest? The drugs and sex trafficking.”
“No and fuck no.”
The vehemence in his words and the disgust in his voice made Shay’s lips twitch upward, but more than anything, it relieved her.
“And what are you offering me?” she asked.
His eyes dipped to take her in, and his tongue slipped out from between his dark lips for an instant. He parted those lips as though to speak but hesitated before finally saying, “Work. I don’t know what you used to do, but you can clearly handle yourself.”
“Not as easily as I used to,” she said, dropping a hand to pat her belly. “My dad was in the military, and he taught me some tricks when I was a kid.” More than a few tricks. He taught me everything. “There was a time in my life when I was…making bad decisions. I ended up in the middle of a lot of shit, and those skills kept me alive through all of it. But I don’t want that kind of life anymore. I don’t want that for my baby. It’s too dangerous, and I’m trying to do things the right way.”
“What I’m offering is less dangerous than your life now,” Drakkal said with surprising gentleness. “I know you don’t need to be reminded, but where are you now? Alone with limited funds in a shitty building in a rough sector. No ID chip. A cub on the way. I met your landlord. He’ll sell you out at the first opportunity—that’s how I found your apartment yesterday. And places like this are lucrative for bounty hunters who earn their livings by bringing in illegals. It’s only a matter of time before one of them comes for you, or before one of your neighbors decides they want a taste of terran.
“My crew isn’t like that. We trust each other, we protect each other. We’re a family. I know how that sounds—”
“Yeah, it sounds like what every gang leader says before he puts a bullet in someone’s head.”
“But it’s not like that, Shay.” He shifted his hands toward her, one metal, one flesh, and turned his palms up. “Most of my people are former military…or were slaves who won their freedom however they had to. We all understand what it means to be betrayed, and we’re not the kind who’d do it to one another.”
Shay stared at his hands. His left hand was sleek black metal with glowing red highlights, its segmented pieces similar in shape and proportion to his flesh and blood hand. This wasn’t the armored limb he’d been wearing when he chased her on Orcus Street. His right hand was the rough, strong hand of a seasoned fighter, its relatively dark, calloused skin crossed by a few pale scars. His three fingers and thumb were thick and powerful, each tipped with a long, hooked claw that should’ve instilled fear in her. He didn’t need weapons to kill; he was a weapon. But his hands were inviting, nonetheless.
She clamped her fingers around her forearms to keep from placing her hands in his.
“I’ll give you a spot on my security team,” he said. “Mostly they just sit around and play Conquerors or watch sappy Volturian dramas. The pay is good, and room and board are included. I’ll even buy you lunch every now and then. And I promise you, Shay—”
She lifted her gaze and met his.
“—you and your cub will be protected. You won’t have to put yourself in any danger to earn your pay.”
“Why?” she asked, brows dropping low. Deep down, she knew he was being honest, and that she could trust him, but doubt still whispered in the back of her mind. His offer was too good to be true. There had to be some ulterior motive here, something he wasn’t saying. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He searched her face for several seconds, and her heart quickened beneath his intense stare. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, couldn’t guess what he was going to say—and never could have anticipated the next words out of his mouth.
“Because you’re my mate, Shay.”
It took several seconds for Shay to register those words, for them to make any sense, because there was no way they could be true—and what did they really mean, anyway? Maybe she’d just heard him wrong. Maybe her pregnancy was fucking with her hearing, because he couldn’t have just said what she thought he’d said.
“What?”
“You are my mate,” he repeated. “My every instinct is drawn toward you. It started the moment I first picked up your scent in Foltham’s, even if I didn’t know what it meant right away.”
Shay stood up abruptly, knocking her chair backward onto the floor. “The fuck you say?”
Mate? Mate? Like an animal sniffing out its selected female?
She retreated a few steps and pointed at him. “But you’re an azhera! You’re all…hairy and werewolfy and whatever, and I’m…I’m human.”
He furrowed his brow. “What does werewolfy mean?”
“It’s like…like you, kind of. Part wolf, part man, all mixed together. But that’s not what we’re talking about right now!”
“I thought I looked more like a cat,” he muttered dejectedly.
Shay narrowed her eyes on him. “Again, that’s beside the point.”
Drakkal leaned back, and the chair creaked and wobbled beneath his weight. “Doesn’t matter what I am or what you are, apart from you being my mate. I haven’t tried to hide that I want you. But I’m not asking you to accept it, terran. You will, eventually, but I won’t force it.”
Shay shifted her stance, uncertain of what to say. He was so sure that she would accept that she was…his. Like she belonged to him.
Would it be so bad to be his? To have him as a protector, as a provider?
Damn it, I can provide for myself!
Yeah, she could, but at what cost to her and her baby? Why make it harder when he was offering her…everything?
Drakkal placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. He stepped around the table, righted the chair she’d knocked over, and picked up the jacket that’d fallen off her lap—the one she’d stolen from him. He draped the garment over the chair’s backrest.
“If I don’t accept?” she asked, unable to look away from him.
“I’m still going to look out for you and your cub.” He took a step forward, and though it seemed such a small move for him, it devoured the distance that had served as the last buffer between them. He lifted his right hand and reached for her face, hesitating briefly as though to give her a chance to retreat. When she remained still, he tentatively settled his hand on her cheek.
His palm was rough and warm, but she couldn’t let herself admit how good it felt. She couldn’t let herself show how starved for affection she was by leaning into his touch.
“There were a lot of people locked away down in Foltham’s zoo,” Drakkal said in a low voice, “and I felt for every one of them. But when he showed me you, I recognized you. I had to act. I had no choice. I needed to get you out of there, needed you to be free…needed to have you. And even if you had shot me afterward, I would’ve chosen to get you out of there again and again.”
He stroked his big thumb over her cheekbone, and the tip of its claw brushed back a few strands of her hair. “Think about my offer. Like I said, it’s not contingent on you accepting that you’re my mate.”
All Shay could do was nod.
Drakkal lingered for a moment, an oddly sad smile on his lips, before lowering his hand. She felt its loss immediately.
“Let me know what you decide,” he said as he turned, scooped up his coat, and walked to the door. He swung the coat on as he moved. “That way I know whether I can stop stalking you or not.”
“Totally creepy, azhera,” she said, one corner of her mouth quirking despite her inner turmoil.
He pressed the control button, and the door slid open. He paused there and glanced at her over his shoulder. “It’s my job to keep my partner and our operation safe. Bu
t it’s my purpose to keep you safe, kiraia. I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”
With that, he walked into the hallway. The door closed a few seconds later, but Drakkal’s presence—and his intoxicating scent—lingered in the apartment long after he’d left.
She was torn. Though her instincts told her Drakkal could be trusted, her gut hadn’t always been right in the past.
But this feels different.
It did, and that scared the crap out of her. She’d made some bad—really bad—decisions in her life, and she couldn’t afford any more. She had her baby to worry about. Yet nothing about Drakkal made her feel like accepting his offer would be a mistake. This…could be her one and only chance. A chance to give her baby a good, safe life.
As for Drakkal claiming her as his mate…
That both freaked her out and intrigued her. She wasn’t disgusted by him—obviously not, considering her body’s reaction to him—but he was…different.
There’d been people in the gang she’d run with back on Earth who’d considered azheras nothing more than walking, talking animals. Some humans had been ostracized for associating with aliens, and the treatment was sometimes worse for those who became physically involved with nonhumans. Shay had seen people beaten, tortured, and killed, all because they’d allowed themselves to feel for something other.
But that wasn’t the case here in Arthos, and she’d be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t feel something when Drakkal looked at her, when he touched her.
And it wouldn’t have made a damn difference to her on Earth, either. She would never have let someone else dictate how she should feel or live her life, and if she wanted an azhera as her man, then she’d damn well have him.
But did she?
Shay settled her palm over her cheek, wishing that it was Drakkal’s rough, scarred there hand instead.
Eleven
Drakkal took a swig of gurosh, hoping the fiery-sweet beverage would help force his attention back to the here and now—if only for long enough to complete his turn and keep the game moving. He understood the rules and gameplay of Conquerors well, even if he’d never been quite as good as a few of the people he usually played with, but he was struggling tonight. The gameboard—a large holographic map depicted in hexagons of varying elevation and pattern—made little sense to him, and the colors on it, which marked the territory claimed by Drakkal and his opponents, seemed to bleed together.
It would have been easy to tell himself he was just feeling off, but he knew the real reason for his distraction.
Shay.
“Come on, azhera,” Arcanthus whispered. “How are we supposed to beat Sam if your head’s not in the game?”
Samantha, who was seated to Arcanthus’s right, turned her head toward him and narrowed her eyes. “Is that how it is?”
Arcanthus’s mouth fell open, dragging his brows down along with it. “And what exactly are you accusing me of, my flower?”
A mischievous smirk lit upon Sam’s lips. “Being bad at Conquerors and secretly plotting against your mate.”
Urgand, the vorgal sitting to Drakkal’s left, sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d better go get my medkit.”
“Why’s that?” Arc asked, frowning with exaggerated hurt in his eyes.
“She just bludgeoned you with the truth.”
Warm laughter erupted around the table, even from the big cren, Razi, who never seemed to take his attention off the board when he was playing Conquerors. Drakkal joined in, grateful for anything that could take his mind off Shay, even if it was only for a few moments.
Drakkal finally selected a holographic card from his hand and placed it on the board. Two of the empty hexagons bordering the one upon which he’d played his piece changed to his color—a muddy orange brown. The majority of map, as usual, was divided between Sam’s and Razi’s colors.
“The gurosh is hitting you hard tonight, Drakkal?” asked Sekk’thi, the female ilthurii seated beside Sam.
“Just more fun to get a rise out of the sedhi by throwing the game,” Drakkal replied with a smirk.
“We had a deal.” Arcanthus shot Drakkal a glare as he reached out and made his own play. He set his card down without looking—directly beside one of Sam’s hexes. Arc’s card changed to her color, crimson.
“Maybe you should pay attention to what you’re doing, Arc,” Drakkal said.
Samantha, Urgand, and Sekk’thi laughed.
Arcanthus turned his head toward the board and grumbled, “Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have let you use my favorite color, Samantha. It was bad luck.”
“For you,” Samantha said with a snicker. She didn’t take her eyes off her mate as she reached forward and placed down her own card without hesitation. Four spaces—four of Arc’s spaces—flipped to crimson.
Impossibly, Arc’s look of feigned indignation only strengthened. “Give me another gurosh. If I’m going down, I’m going to enjoy it however I can.”
Razi produced a fresh bottle of the stuff and passed it across the table to Arcanthus as Sekk’thi assessed her options.
“She is your master in the game, sedhi.” Sekk’thi tilted her head and shuffled her holographic cards, choosing one from her hand and placing it on the dwindling unclaimed space. “We must assume she is in control elsewhere, as well.”
The innuendo implicit in her tone produced smirks from everyone but Samantha herself; the terran looked down, her cheeks pinkening.
“Samantha is my master whenever and wherever she chooses,” Arcanthus replied smoothly, sliding a hand onto her thigh. “Hence the installation of sound dampeners in our bedroom and workshop.”
“Just need them in every other room and we can all sleep in peace,” Urgand said.
Samantha’s cheeks darkened to a red that rivaled her color on the gameboard, though there was a soft, loving smile on her lips as she peeked at Arcanthus from the corner of her eye.
Arcanthus grinned. “I strive to please. Samantha, that is. Not the rest of you.”
“I do lead him around by a leash, after all,” Samantha said.
Though it didn’t diminish his amusement, Drakkal felt for Arcanthus in that moment—and was even a bit envious. All Drakkal wanted to do was please his mate. But Shay needed to choose him first.
“About time someone put him in his place,” Drakkal said with a chuckle.
Arcanthus’s grin took on a fiendish slant. “Just wait, azhera. It’ll be you in a collar eventually. I already picked out a nice one to gift your lucky female.”
“No collar for me, sedhi,” Drakkal replied, baring his fangs in a grin of his own. “My female will need a saddle.” Saying those words aloud conjured a mental image of Shay riding astride him, her golden hair unbound around her pale shoulders, and her delectable breasts bared to his hungry gaze. It sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock.
Razi—looking much too large for his seat—leaned forward and continued his careful examination of the gameboard with a furrowed brow. “Where are you going to find a saddle small enough for your hand?” he asked casually.
For a moment, silence reigned around the table. Drakkal stared at Razi. Though he was sharp, the big cren rarely took part in such banter; he often caught everyone off guard when he offered insults like that.
Arcanthus broke into laughter so intense that it began almost soundlessly, and he was quickly joined by Urgand and Sekk’thi. Only Samantha restrained herself, pressing her lips together to contain laughter that shook her shoulders. At least she had the decency to cover her mouth and hide some of her mirth.
Drakkal’s attempt to hold in his own laughter resulted in a snort. “Kraasz ka’val, Razi. If your head weren’t so hard, I’d knock some sense into you,” he said with a grin.
For what might’ve been the first time that evening, Razi looked away from the game to meet Drakkal’s gaze. He was smirking around his pronounced tusks. “Afraid you’ll break your hand?”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to spend a night all a
lone,” Drakkal replied.
That only intensified the laughter from the others. This time Samantha joined in, too.
Razi finally made his move, and Urgand, who’d carved out his own respectable little pocket of territory, placed a card decisively once the cren was done.
A faint buzzing ran through Drakkal’s neural link with his prosthesis, and an instant later, his holocom chimed with an incoming call. He often received calls from the security team—usually to report that there was nothing to report, just the way he preferred it—so he didn’t bother checking the comm ID on the display. He quickly chose a card and played it.
Two of Arcanthus’s hexes flipped to Drakkal’s orange brown.
“This is what all our years of friendship mean to you?” Arcanthus demanded.
“Quite whining, cub,” Drakkal said as he lifted his left arm and accepted the call. “Yeah?”
“I’m in. Pick me up tonight.”
The call disconnected before his distracted mind fully registered what had just happened. He knew that voice, he’d been waiting to hear it, but that didn’t ease the shock of Shay calling him.
I’m in.
Was that simply an acceptance of the offer he’d made her yesterday, or was it something more? She’d looked at him several times with unmasked desire in her eyes. Had she finally decided to accept her attraction to him? Had she decided to accept…him?
Thinking into it too much, Drak. She’s accepting the job, not me…not yet.
Silence reclaimed control of the room, causing Drakkal to realize that he’d not used his earpiece. Everyone had overheard the brief call. All of them—even Razi, who normally appeared disinterested—were staring at Drakkal intently, questions brimming in their eyes.
“Who was that?” Samantha asked.
Arcanthus leaned forward, propping his arms on the table. “And what is she in on?”
Sam’s eyes brightened, and her voice filled with excitement. “She’s human, isn’t she? She sounded human.”
“Since when do females call you?” Urgand asked. “Apart from Sekk’thi.”
Untamed Hunger Page 15
