Page 49 of Tempting Jupiter
Fee could hear Jupiter’s appreciation and love in the way he talked about Seneca.
Jupiter softly stroked her hair as he spoke. “The Master gave the use of him to one of the patrons as a gift. A man who liked young boys. Seneca told me he tried to fight, but he hadn’t been trained. The man overpowered him easily.” Jupiter’s voice became rougher as he spoke. “There were others. He has never said—” Jupiter’s voice broke.
Feeona tugged his arms around her and wrapped hers over his in a semblance of a hug. “He survived. He didn’t let them destroy his soul.”
Jupiter nodded, brushing his chin against the top of her head. “Years later, when they brought him to the kennel, he was weak and far, far behind in training. He tried to learn, but he didn’t have the muscle mass or stamina to keep up. Other young Dogs like Sen had been brought to the training grounds before. Most didn’t survive long.”
Feeona hated the sadness in his voice. Her heart was breaking for both men.
“Seneca was different. There was a spark of determination in his eyes. But that spark wasn’t enough to overcome his lack of training, his small size, and lack of a pack. With no pack to sleep or eat with, he had to stay in the training yard all the time. Many of us tried to take him food, but the trainers wouldn’t allow it. They said we needed our food to stay strong for training. He survived eating scraps, but he only became weaker and weaker. The only water he got was when they irrigated the grass in the training field.” Jupiter’s muscles tightened as he spoke.
Feeona rested her arms over his, stroking his skin. “They deserve to be tied up in a low oxygen atmosphere and left to see if they’d suffocate or starve first.”
Jupiter chuckled. “You have a devious mind, my Fee.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
He leaned down and rubbed his chin against her temple. “I think the trainers enjoyed seeing one of us brought low. When there was a break in training, I would sit with him. He was so thirsty he would lick the perspiration from my skin. I think his body needed the salt as much as the water. He was so close to death in the end.”
Jupiter’s arms tightened around her as if he’d gone back to that moment. “One evening after training, I went to look for him. I hadn’t seen him at all that day. He’d curled up in a corner away from everything. He couldn’t even lift his head. He had such a strong will to live. I couldn’t let him die. I carried him inside. The whip-master tried to stop me, but my pack brothers backed me up. He didn’t want an open rebellion so he told us we would all have to take lashes for our disobedience.”
Feeona closed her eyes and fought the toxic emotions roiling inside her. He spoke of unspeakable cruelty without any sense that it shouldn’t, couldn’t, be allowed.
“The whip-master laughed and said we were only drawing out his death. That we shared our water and food only if our performance didn’t suffer. If we performed badly, they would kill him outright. Mercury, our pack leader made sure we gave him only what we could without weakening ourselves, but he stood with me and he saved Sen every bit as much as I did. Now Sen is a full member of our pack, as valuable a fighter as any other. His body has recovered, but a Dog is more than flesh and blood.”
Feeona sat up and turned to him. “Go to him. Give him the reassurance he needs.”
Jupiter looked at her like she was made of pure starlight, then pressed a final kiss to her forehead and got to his feet.
***
Seneca’s fists ached, but he couldn’t stop hitting the training target. The tension inside him had to go somewhere. He’d found a surprisingly well-equipped training room on the main level. The gear looked very different from the blunted swords, metal shields, and staffs he’d trained with on Roma. He did recognize the square of striking surface, surrounded by sensor readouts. On Roma they trained for the primitive and deadly weapons of Old Earth, but Master Owens spared no expense on technical gadgets to improve their strength and battle skills.
Jupiter entered the room on softly thudding bare feet. “You’ll overload that target’s circuits, if you don’t give it a rest. Maybe you need something else to hit for a while.”
Seneca threw one more punch, then met Jupiter’s gaze. “You want to take the target’s place?”
“Whatever you need, Sen.” Jupiter held his arms out to the side, as if he might be waiting for an embrace. No. He wasn’t waiting for that. He was offering himself up as a more satisfying striking target.
A flash of violence ripped through Seneca, and he had to hold himself still until the urge to punch Jupiter’s treasured face faded. “There’s safety gear,” he offered instead.
Jupiter’s eyebrows lifted. Seneca shrugged. The bigger Dog’s eyes lit as he charged right at him in a sloppy move more play than training. Jupiter tackled him around the middle and carried them both to the ground. Seneca didn’t want playful. He wanted to pound and be pounded on. He needed to numb the pain. Not the pain in his hands, the ache lodged firmly under his ribs. The large organ that pumped blood through his heated body had become an open wound.
The sound of Jupiter’s howl when he’d joined with Feeona had stabbed him with more force that he’d expected. He slammed a fist into Jupiter’s ribs and was rewarded with a small grunt of pain. Seneca pressed the advantage, twisting beneath Jupiter and landing another firm blow a few centimeters from the first.
Jupiter let him twist, pushing with the motion. The world flipped and Seneca’s back hit the training floor with a loud thump. Jupiter pressed Seneca’s body against the floor. The heavy masculine weight of Jupiter over him, the hip pressed against his groin, dug into Seneca like a rusty spoon.
“Fuck,” Seneca grunted and bucked then reached for Jupiter’s head, trying to get some purchase.”
Jupiter didn’t budge. “What’s eating you, my friend?”
“I’m fine,” he growled back, still trying to dislodge his pack-mate.
“Then why did you leave the bed to come hammer away at training targets?”
Seneca snarled. “We’re free now brother. A Dog should have his female to himself the first time he claims her as mate.”
Jupiter’s concentration broke. Seneca was ready. He threw Jupiter off and leapt into a defensive stance. He waited for the next attack, muscles vibrating with tension. When nothing came, he realized the Dog had gotten to his feet, but stood still, jaw slack.
