Page 4 of Chained

But I’m going to be joining the new mums’ club soon. How soon that will be, I’m not entirely sure as time is counted differently on Trefa. I’m hardly showing, I think. Since my abduction I’ve struggled with food, and as a result, I’ve lost weight rather than gaining it, which doesn’t make it easy to date anything.

However, one thing I do know is I hadn’t had a period for two months which prompted me to take the pregnancy test on Earth, and I’ve been here on Trefa for what has to be another two months at least. Which means very soon, I’m not going to be able to hide any longer.

I consider what I might say as I set out Retah’s selection of pulsar pistols, the latest in weapons tech, and then I get out the swords and daggers.

My old job as an accounting assistant didn’t put me in contact with much more than figures and spreadsheets. I certainly didn’t ever pick up a sword. However, Retah’s enthusiasm has somehow rubbed off on me. Maybe he reminds me a little of my dad, who loved hunting, even when I didn’t. The big horned alien has shown me how to inspect a sword for quality, how to swing one, and how to move with one. Turns out maybe I inherited some sympathy for weaponry.

I like performing the slow dance of death Retah taught me because it clears my mind.

As I pull the swords out of their individual sheaths, I can’t help but marvel at their beauty. Some have a Damascus style ripple, the metal folded over and over on itself until it forms waves and patterns like a fingerprint. Some are so light I can balance them flat on one finger.

Each one is a masterpiece.

With one of the swords in one hand and a dagger in the other, I move across the deserted armory. It’s a little weird to be doing my dance now, but as I’d rather not throw up when Retah comes back with the procurator, settling the mind will settle the stomach.

With every swing of the blade, I’m centering myself, thinking only of the movements my boss taught me, thinking about the way to tilt the sword, to move across the floor without sound, to be able to catch my enemies unaware.

I’m never going to be abducted again, not without a fight. Not after what I’ve been taught. I will be keeping my baby and myself safe, now and in the future.

I’m in the zen when I hear the growl from behind me.

It reverberates around the large, vaulted room, causing weapons to rattle in their positions.

Maybe there was a reason the place was deserted. The dome is filled with Trefa’s most deadly creatures, after all, and plenty not from Trefa who attend simply to slaughter in the games.

I pirouette on the spot, both blades raised.

Hestands in the doorway. Massive. Winged. Blood and dirt streak his bare chest, where a light glows dully on some leather straps. As I take him in, he uncurls the biggest set of claws I’ve ever seen from each hand. They have to be four inches long, sharp and as dark as night. I rake my eyes up his impressive muscled abdomen to his face. It’s handsome, rugged even withhis brow pulled down, a livid scar searing across his forehead, giving him the ultimate in bad boy vibes. Light glitters in his dark eyes in a way which entirely convinces me I am prey.

Only this prey has a trick or two up her sleeve. I spin the dagger in one hand and beckon him with it.

This time he doesn’t growl. He groans.

MAXYM

A female with weapons. A female who smells like she’s been sent from the stars to taunt my senses. Her long hair, the color of the leaves late in the year, is pulled away from her face into a long bunch that swings as she dances with the sword and dagger in a movement so ancient all gladiators know it by heart.

This female is mine.

But this female is also armed, and she wants to fight. My cocks are painfully tight in my pants.

And fighting has never made me hard before.

Fighting has only ever made the pain lesser. I want to mate her. I want to fight and mate.

I can’t fightandmate? They are incompatible. But the two urges war within me. This little female arouses me so much I’m not sure I can walk.

All I know how to do is fight. All I wanted to do was fight.

Now my cocks want me to mate with an intensity I don’t understand. The female has weapons…and I want to plunder her until neither of us can move.

It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense. I want it to make sense because I want her.

She gestures for me to engage. Perhaps she doesn’t know much about the Gryn, but I’m on her in less than a nova second, pinning her against the wall behind us, her hands still clutching her weapons.

Very sensible. If I let her go, she will need to defend herself. This female has far more fight than her tiny size would give her credit.

“Eregri,” I rasp.

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