Page 16 of Rebel Fates

“Who are you?” he growls.

I try to answer, but his hold on my throat is too strong. I glance at the friendly minotaur, but he’s taking a step back.

Finally, the bull says, “She can’t answer with your grip so tight.”

The growling cat eases his grasp just enough.

“I’m Gemma. Slavers captured me. I escaped. I’m sorry it got you hurt. Please don’t kill me,” I say in a rush. Maybe if they know I didn’t want to hurt him, they will let me go.

His face softens as if his memory is coming back. He sniffs my neck. “Tirbilians.”

“I just want to go home!” I gasp.

He releases the hold on my neck, but doesn’t get off of me. He tilts his head, inspecting me. “You’re a human? From Earth?” He lifts my blue-dyed hair. “Or are you a hybrid?”

“Yeah. Earth.” I ask surprised, “You know about Earth?”

The lion-man still seems almost feral. He’s so muscular and with his claws, I’m sure he could shred me in seconds. But maybe if I can get him to talk, he’ll realize I’m not a threat once I convince him of my innocent intentions. I need to be smart and talk my way out from under him.

“Yes, we know about Earth. Our people have visited there, but not in a long while.”

It dawns on me why they look so familiar. “Egypt?”

He nods. “And other locations on your planet.”

“So, you’re the species that they made sculptures and paintings of?” I say in awe. “You’re the gods?”

He sits back on his heels. I can see everything that he’s working with as he’s splayed out over me. I try to avoid looking at his pronounced cock and balls. They appear humanlike, although on the bigger side of what I’ve personally experienced.

They still haven’t let me up from the table.

He raises an eyebrow, which looks freaking adorable with his feline appearance.

Theremustbe something wrong with me. The man is ready to rip out my throat! Maybe I’m in shock. Maybe this is just all overwhelming my senses, triggering every bodily response.

“You know about our species?” he asks.

“Not really. But I’ve seen artwork exhibits of the Gods of Egypt. I thought you were a myth.”

“We are real.” He sniffs the air again and smiles. “I’m Serrat, the alpha of this pack. That is Rok, and this is Zeek.” He nods to both. Returning his intense focus to me, he says, “I’m afraid you won’t be going home soon.”

“Oh! Can we keep her?” Zeek asks.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. I’ve just gone from slave to pet.

“Zeek,” Serrat warns.

“Serrat, we should talk in private,” Rok says with a snippy tone.

With that, Serrat leaps off of the table and lands gracefully beside the other male.

I get a glimpse Rok as he walks past me, but all I see are tall, pointed ears, a dog-shaped face, and dark fur. What the hell is he?

I’m left alone, stuck frozen in place on the exam table. My mind dwells on what they have to say. I might have escaped the slavers, but I’m still in danger. Perhaps more danger than what I escaped.

But if they want to keep me as apet, my hormones need to stop responding to their presence.

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