I stagger backward.
His words are thick, accented, primal, but clearly in the common tongue. I fall back, hitting the tree behind me. I curl my hands protectively over my chest as the male slides my way. He’s holding a spear in one hand. I vaguely remember seeing it on the cliff.
One long red tail dances behind him. A tentacle covered in ruby scales. I think I see blood splattered across them but I can’t be sure.
“I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours,” I rasp between breaths.
His brow cocks. “Oh, but you are. You just didn’t know it until you met me.”
He reaches for me. Covetous eyes lean closer.
I push as far back into the tree trunk as I can go. “I haven’t met you.”
“Consider this that time. We’ve now met.”
His hand is about to be on me, and I turn my head to the side. Will it be cold or warm? Will it hurt? Will he rip my clothes off and take me? Or will he touch me softly?
I don’t get the chance to find out. My vision blurs, and I’m yanked off the ground.
Air rushes over my skin. A roar explodes in my ears, below me. Gasping, I find it’s not one hand on me, but two. They grip me tightly under my armpits, and I’m flying through the air.
Not the air, but… bouncing through the canopy of the trees.
The red male is nothing but a spec on the forest floor as I’m jerked from one large branch to the next. Sparks of light shoot at us, coming from the end of his weapon. My belly curls and I taste bile.
“Azsote!” His terrible shout shakes the leaves. “You will die!” he screams. “I will see your blood seep into the dirt and your body rot! I will see the maggots feast on your entrails!”
My breath wooshes from my mouth. Leaves rush past me in a blur. It takes a stunned second, but now I’m struggling in this new male’s grip.
“Stop,” the one holding me orders, slinging from one tree to the next. “Or you will fall!”
I struggle harder, and when the male shuffles me under the crook of his arm, I kick and scream, clawing his scales wherever I can reach. I don’t care if I hurt him. I want him to let go of me.
He grunts and curses things I don’t understand, trying to get me to stop. I’d rather fall than have my choices taken away from me, but the blur and the jerking, the pinching of my flesh weaken my attack. I flinch, hair blowing in my eyes.
“Female, you will fall!” He pulls me forward, twists me around until I’m face to face with a bright green male with black eyes. He squeezes me against his chest, and I draw back to pummel him with my fists.
“Let me go!” I shout.
“You are sssafe with me! I won’t hurt you.”
I don’t want to hear it. “Then let me go!”
“Never.”
“Azsote!” I hear the boom of the red male’s furor. A voice filled with so much rage; it goes straight to the marrow of my bones. I finally still.
The green male stiffens as well, lips twisting into a snarl. There are small, shiny scales on the sides of his face, and they move with the wrinkling of his skin. I focus on them to stop my sudden dizziness.
I open my mouth to scream, and he spins me around and covers my lips. “Quiet,” he demands. “Or he will hear you.”
My nostrils flare.
Good.
Let the red one come and start a fight. It’ll give me another chance to run for it.
I cock my head and bite the green male’s hand as hard as I can. Blood gushes into my mouth as my teeth pierce his flesh. He shouts and jerks away.
I scream at the top of my lungs.
The male jerks me hard as I thrash. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he yells.
“You already have!”
A day ago, I was a respected member of the military. I was at the top of my field: Communications Director on the bridge of The Dreadnaut. A coveted position I worked hard to earn. I’d spent years working as a lackey, slowly rising in the ranks, taking classes, taking every training offered to expand my resume.
It was hard, grueling work. I sacrificed relationships, leaving my family to improve my chances of being bridge crew.
I earned my spot at the top and I intend to keep it.
It’s mine.
I hadn’t sacrificed my youth just to be used as a human sacrifice for Peter. I’m not just some piece of meat to be handed off.
I buck wildly. I see a flash of red coming straight for us through the trees, and it’s enough for him to loosen his grip.
“No!” he shouts. But it’s too late, I’m slipping down his sleek, scaled body. His hands grab the cloth of my shirt, ripping it as I continue to fall. “Vruksha! Catch her,” he bellows. “Now!”
The air breezes over my skin as I’m freed from his grip. Yes! I wrench my eyes closed for the painful impact I know is coming. Whether it’s branches or the hard ground, it’ll hurt like hell—if it doesn’t kill me.
Two large arms clamp under me, startling my whole body. They wrap around me protectively, holding me close into a steely chest of rippling muscle. I feel it under my cheek as I’m pressed into it.
It frightens me.
I still wait for an impact that’s been denied me.
“You have tried to take her and have lost. Leave now or die,” the male holding me says. “She fell, almost died in your grasp, within minutes of you having her. You do not deserve a female.”
A hiss fills my ears.
“Ssshe is a fighter.”
“All females are until they’re nested.”
Another hiss. “And you think you deserve that honor for catching her?”
“I have caught her twice and will catch her a
