Page 80 of Taming Chaos

“Maglik ag, Salu,” the Bartharran whispered. His grip was beginning to hurt, and hanging upside down like this was starting to give her a pounding headache.

Damn it! Why did so many other species in the Universe seem to be stronger than humans? In terms of physical power, she was hopelessly outmatched.

An aggravated sigh escaped her as she went limp, sensing she would never win against this Bartharran in a battle of pure strength. Seph closed her eyes as she swayed, thinking of that special place Torin had conjured up for her in a moment of sublime tenderness.

In bed with me… on Earth.

Yes, he would be curled up in the pure cotton sheets of her big soft bed, and they would listen to the rhythmic ebb and flow of the afternoon tide as it washed against the palm-fringed shore.

With all the violence and horror she’d witnessed since coming aboard this pirate vessel, she should have been terribly traumatized, but all she could think of was her rough, homely little apartment in Cayenne, with its old-fashioned wooden furniture and antique paper books and tropical vert-garden surroundings. How she would love to bring him to her secret sanctuary, the place where she never, ever brought anyone.

Torin was going to come for her. She knew it in her heart of hearts. It was just a question of when.

Chapter Twenty-Three

His swords were gone. His throwing knives were gone. His gun was still in its holster, but that was it.

None of that mattered to Torin, though.

All he could think about was how they’d snatched away his precious mate in his ultimate moment of weakness, and he’d had no choice but to let her go.

Torin roared in frustration as he threw a Bartharran aside, causing the big alien to crash into the dirty white wall with a resounding thud. A lone nak nak ran from the scene, howling.

Torin relentlessly pushed through the chaos, dispatching anyone who stood in his way.

He stabbed them with his claws. He fried them with plasma, his arm growing heavy under the weight of repeated blasts. It didn’t matter. He would fire and claw his way through these cursed Bartharrans until every last one of them was dead, if that’s what it took.

Torin was beyond rage. They taken her from him, and he was falling into a dark, savage place. The cold veil was long gone; shattered. Torin wasn’t a soldier anymore. He was alone now; anchorless, rudderless, cut off from his people.

Relying on his own instincts.

He was just a man with a heart, but his heart had been stolen, and if he didn’t get it back…

He would destroy everything.

Chapter Twenty-Four

They brought Seph into a large room filled with clunky metal consoles. Small lights glowed on instrument panels, bathing the space in a soft blue light.

At last, they put her down. Her captor dumped her—rather gently—in a large metal seat, holding his hand up in warning.

“Obog.” The meaning was clear. Don’t move. He crossed his golden arms, muscles bulging all over the place. Sharp tusks thrust forward. Strange eyes narrowed. This was the first time Seph had seen a Bartharran’s eyes up close. Black sclera surrounded a small black point—pupil or iris, she couldn’t quite tell. The thoughts behind those eyes were completely unfathomable to her.

What do you want with me?

The other Bartharrans stepped aside, bowing their heads as an even larger, scarred male—this one standing about a head taller than the others—came to stand beside her captor. Seph recognized the male from earlier; the one Torin had called Clannath… or something.

Their leader, perhaps?

He appeared a little older than the others, his face hard and weathered, like old leather. To her shock, he slapped the other Bartharran hard on the upside of his head. The younger one glowered and launched into a blistering tirade of harsh words, grunts, and growls.

The boss Bartharran slapped him again, harder this time. He barked a single unintelligible word.

The young one backed down, muttering under his breath as he lowered his head.

Seph observed all of this in mute horror, terrible possibilities flickering in her mind. As the Bartharrans played out their strange ritual of manly dominance, she stole a glance around the room. A navigation hologram rose from a console in the center, displaying a large red planet with two moons. Bartharra. The resemblance to Mars was striking, but it definitely wasn’t the Red Planet humans were so familiar with.

To her even greater surprise, the big dominant male dropped to his knees before her, bowing his head. “Blessed Salu,” he said in highly accented Universal, his gravelly voice becoming surprisingly tender. “This unworthy one is eternally sorry for the rough treatment. You must understand, we had to get you out of the danger, out of the hands of Chaos.”

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