Pinned beneath his powerful battle-brothers, Brennan takes huge, desperate breathes of air.
We all watch him as he struggles against his two Aurelians comrades, but as the battle rage flows from his system, he becomes less and less of a match for both of them.
It’s incredible to watch, though. Otho and Lazar are two towering Aurelian warriors – both from the most fearsome warrior species in the universe, and at the peak of their physical prowess; and yet the mating frenzy is so powerful in Brennan, they can hardly contain him.
But they do so just long enough for it to make a difference. Taking more deep breaths, the mask of frenzy slowly leaves Brennan’s face. He looks confused for just a second, blinking his eyes.
“I… I don’t know what happened...”
“You know what the fuck happened,” Otho growls, clamping his mouth shut.
They’re silent as they struggle on the floor – a big, muscular mess of writhing limbs. Their expressions and faces change, as if they’re in the midst of heated conversation, but I can’t hear them speak even in a whisper.
Then, I realize the three of them are leaving me out of a conversation they’re having telepathically – just like On Aurelians said they could.
After a minute of heated, silent debate, Otho releases his leader – and pauses just long enough to confirm that Brennan isn’t going to try and fight him again.
Then, and only then, Otho clambers to his feet.
He holds his hand out for Brennan to take.
Brennan ignores it – lifting himself up instead.
For a moment, the leader of the three Aurelians surveys his two battle-brothers – and I can’t tell if the implacable expression on his marble-white face is one of gratitude at controlling him, or rage at their betrayal.
I don’t get an answer. The moment ends – and then Brennan turns and stalks towards the stairs – clonking up them, out of our underground lair and into the outside world above.
I stand there, arms wrapped around myself, shivering.
Gods! These three Aurelians are just testosterone-fueled, rutting beasts. I’d read about the so-called mating frenzy, but I couldn’t have believed how true it was until I’d witnessed this display. Brennan was literally losing his rational mind in his burning, uncontrollable need for me.
But as terrified as I am – trembling, and panting – there’s more to it than that.
Oh, Gods – I hate that I feel this way, but there’s something thrilling about having two huge, alpha males competing for you. Two massive, deadly warriors – each huge and powerful enough to make any girl feel tiny and small in their presence – and they’re each trying to take each other’s heads off for the right to mate with me.
As they break apart their wrestling, Otho turns to me, breathing deeply.
“That should not have happened. Brennan lost control. The mating rage took him.”
I nod, slowly – but my body had responded to that demonstration not with fear, but with something else. Something shameful.
But maybe I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Maybe that’s how I’m meant to feel.
After all, there’s something so primal about it – two men fighting over you. I have this strange feeling that this is what used to happen on Old-Earth, before civilization tamed mankind. Back in the ancient times, men had fought against each other for the right to a woman – and she’d be claimed by the victor. It was the law of nature – might makes right.
Which, to our modern way of thinking, is so wrong…
…but no matter what my modern mind wants to think about it, my primal body has been programmed by ancient evolution to ache for the man who displays the most virility, power, and might.
I’ve seen that display – in the rutting, wrestling fight between those two towering Aurelians – and now it’s had the impact on me that nature intended.
Now, I ache for Otho.
I ache for him to snap, just like Brennan did – except this time I ache for no one to be able to stop him from rushing over and taking me. I crave to be claimed…
…but instead, I mutter:
“T-thank you… again. Thank you.”
Standing protectively over me, Lazar breathes a deep sigh of relief. He’d been holding in that tension throughout the fight – and I can feel the electricity in the air dissipate as his shoulders slump and his fists unclench.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” Lazar turns from his battle-brothers. He shakes his head, looking at me sadly. “It’s not his fault, Natali. It’s the nature of our species.”
I nod. That nature is why my panties are flooded, and I’m terrified Lazar will take another deep breath in and taste the scent of my arousal.
Instead, though, he steps closer:
“I don’t know how long we can keep you.”
I gulp.
“What do you mean?”
Lazar furrows his brows. This towering warrior – an alien giant who had conquered Scorp, Toad, and all manner of other enemies – suddenly seem unsure of himself.
Eventually, he murmurs:
“You were right, Natalie. This isn’t just business. We took you…” Lazar has trouble making eye contact with me all of a sudden, as he admits: “We took you because of your scent.”
“My scent?”
He nodded shamefully.
“The moment we entered your father’s estate, we tasted your scent. It was perfection.”
Perfection? Surely Aurelians get aroused by the scent of all human females. They’re rutting, sex-crazed beasts; all of society knows that.
But Lazar shakes his head, as if reading my thoughts.
“Your scent, Natali… It’s right. I’ve never tasted anything so right, before. It’s a clue that you might be our Fated Mate – that one woman we’ve spent our lives searching for…”
I shiver, staring up at the towering Aurelian. Is he… serious?
I could be their Fated Mate?
But Lazar shakes his head again.
“But I fear we’re going to lose control around you, Natali.” He shudders, and I see how the veins in his neck are swollen; as if he’s on the verge of snapping himself.
“Your scent is…” He closes his eyes, breathing in and tasting me. “You don’t know
