Page 5 of Chained

I’m giving too much of myself away. I should not be telling her anything. She could be something sent by the procurator to harm me or worse, tame me.

He will get no satisfaction if that is the case.

I will not be tamed, even by this sweet creature.

Her scent increases as I tighten my grip. I suck it down like a Gryn starved. The more I can scent her, the more I want to both mate and fight. Or is it mate rather than fight?

Deep within the notes of her, along with the arousal, there is something else, something far more important, something which fills me with a desire so primal it’s all I can do not to mate her on the spot and claim her for my own.

“You are with young.” I shove my nose into her skin and inhale deeply. “You are fertile and filled.”

“What? No! Get off me!” She struggles ineffectually. “Let me go.”

“You and your young are mine,” I respond.

“No, we are not.” She pulls one hand free, dropping the dagger in the process.

I make the mistake of noticing, and as soon as my attention is taken from her, she spins under my arm, wrenching her sword free and shoving the tip of it into my neck.

Now I’m the one pinned against the wall, by this tiny little scrap of a female.

“Don’t move,” she snarls. “And don’t say anything about the baby.”

Her free hand goes subconsciously to her stomach. The heavy clothing she wears obscures her belly, but her scent did not lie.

She is filled with young, and she is mine.

“Whoever the father is, you’ll need to tell him you’ve had a better offer,” I rasp, not moving a muscle.

Her eyes widen in shock for a second before her brow draws down and the sharp tip of the sword digs farther into my flesh.

“Youarroganttwat. What makes you think…”

Her words are cut off as a Remek enters the armory, followed by the procurator and a cohort of Zarvu.

I take my advantage, knocking her sword to one side and taking hold of her. We spin to the floor as the weapon clatters away, and I cushion her body with mine but make sure I end up crouching over her.

“Fate cannot be denied, little scrap,” I growl. “You belong to me.” I drop my lips to hers and extract a kiss which she melts into for half a nova-second before twisting her head to one side, away from me.

“Maxym!” The procurator shrieks out my name before gibbering, “Someone deal with this gakking gladiator!”

A dart thunks into my flesh.

“Narcotics?” I glare up at him out of one eye, the other no longer wanting to work. “Couldn’t you be more inventive?”

“Think yourself lucky you get to live this time, Maxym,” the procurator responds.

I allow my last few seconds of consciousness to be on the female beneath me. She stares up like a simple look could kill me. It can’t. I’m not sure anything can anymore.

“I will come for you, do not doubt it,” I slur as the drug takes hold and darkness takes me away.

CLEO

“Gak it, Cleo, are you okay?” Retah shoves Maxym’s slumbering form to one side and helps me up.

“I think your little assistant was holding her own with my prize gladiator.” The procurator chuckles, gesturing for his guards to deal with the huge creature.

Two of them take hold of his legs and pull. He slides away with a scraping sound, his arms and wings stretched above him. It is a horrible sight.

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