“That’s a very rare occurrence,” he assured her. “You are not allowed to go on the hunt until you are ready.”
“It’s rare?! But that means it can happen.”
“It has not happened for many years,” he said soothingly.
“How many years?”
“It had been at least two years before I left.” At least, since a fatal incident had occurred.
“What about since then?”
She climbed out bed and started pacing, her eyes wide and panicked.
“Do not worry, my aria. I have done this before, and I can do it again.”
“But it’s been such a long time.”
“Do you doubt my skills?
“Well, no. But…”
He could tell she wasn’t convinced. Perhaps she needed a demonstration…
“Actually, hunting a paxha is much like hunting a mate,” he said thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?”
“One travels down into the dark, into unknown territory.” His voice dropped to a low growl as he got up and stalked toward her.
She instinctively backed away, her eyes even wider now, but the panic had been replaced by something else. He moved with deliberate slowness, allowing her to skitter past him.
“Your prey attempts to elude you, but you stay on their trail.”
She stopped on the far side of the bed, her luscious breasts trembling, her nipples tight little buds. Once again, he prowled after her. She waited until he almost reached her, then squeaked and tried to dive back across the bed. He let her get halfway across, then pounced, enclosing her in his arms and legs as he carefully kept his weight off her small body.
“And when the time is right, you capture them,” he whispered in her ear. The sweet scent of her arousal filled his senses.
“What if they fight back?” Her voice was breathless, but even though she was wiggling beneath him, he knew she wasn’t trying to get away.
“Then you have to show them that they belong to you.”
He gently scraped his fangs across her neck in the exact spot that always made her shiver and slid his hand beneath her. Her liquid heat coated his fingers as he found the swollen pearl of her clit. Deliberately keeping his touch feather light, he circled the small nub until she was writhing beneath him, the delicious curves of her ass dancing against his kotra as she tried to increase the pressure.
“Baralt! Please.”
“Then when the moment is right, you strike.”
He lifted her hips in the air and plunged into her. Even as wet as she was, her body resisted and he tried to slow down, but she threw her hips back, demanding more, and he was lost. He roared, the triumphant cry of a hunter subduing his prey, as his world narrowed to the small body rising to meet his, to his female, his mate. He heard her cry out, felt her cunt fluttering wildly around him, and thrust harder, deeper. One final stroke and his seed erupted in endless pulses, leaving him limp and drained as his ring locked them together.
He pulled her even closer and buried his face in her neck as he waited for his heartbeat to slow. His game had only proven what he had known all along—that she was the one who had captured him.
“All right. You convinced me that you’re a good hunter,” she admitted when his ring finally subsided and he reluctantly pulled out.
“I promise that I will return to you, my aria.”
“You had better,” she said fiercely and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him.
“They have been gone so long,” Izzie complained as she paced around the living space once again.
“As I told you, it is a long way down to the underground river.” Zemma rolled her eyes. “Stop worrying. And stop pacing—you’re making me dizzy.”
“I can’t stop worrying. Baralt went off to fight some type of prehistoric fanged fish in the dark. It’s completely insane.”
Zemma shrugged. “It’s a male thing. You have to let them have their games.”
“It’s not a game!” she yelled. “What if he gets hurt? Or…killed.” The last word emerged in a horrified whisper.
“You do care for him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I saw your face when he called you his mate. You didn’t look happy.”
“I wasn’t sure what it meant,” she said truthfully but evasively. Baralt’s declaration had thrown her off-balance. She did care for the big warrior, and the thought of being separated from him made her heart ache. But married—mated? They hadn’t known each other very long, and she was still technically a slave. Was this just another form of ownership? Even on Earth, she had avoided any serious relationships, unwilling to give up her hard-earned freedom. And yet she had never felt the way she felt about Baralt.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Zemma asked. “It might be more productive than trying to wear a hole in the floor.”
“I don’t want to leave. I want to be here when he returns.”
“You do have it bad.”
“What about you? Do you worry about that other male you told me about?”
“He’s a warrior,” Zemma said firmly. “He can take care of himself.”
“You really don’t worry about him?”
Zemma started to nod, then her face crumpled. “Of course I worry. I worry that he will be hurt. I worry that he will get tired of waiting for me. I worry that he will find someone else.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. The last time I tried to leave the tribe, it didn’t work out very well. I think this time is different, but what if I’m wrong?”
“I guess it comes back to how much you care for him—and how much you’re willing to risk.”
“It’s not just that. With Chotgor, I never expected it to last. I knew that I would be returning here—or at least I did until I realized what type of male he truly was and that I was under his control.” The familiar shadow crossed Zemma’s face, and Izzie squeezed her hand. Zemma forced a smile and returned to the
