His Untamed Mate (Swarii Mates Book 1) by Korey Mae Johnson (3)

Chapter Two

“It’s okay, Commander. You’re going to get through this,” Braum said, patting Graham consolingly on the shoulder. Braum was the only mated man on his crew, so Graham knew he probably had an inkling about how horrible he felt, inside and out.

Graham was no stranger to getting out of bad situations. He’d been captured seven times before, and had escaped seven times, and nothing about this situation had seemed more hopeless than any of the times he had been captured before.

Except now he had a short timeframe to think of an escape plan, and his mind and heart weren’t set on escape. All he could think about was the tiny, goddess-like slave girl who had saved his life that morning.

His mate.

How he could have possibly found a mate in the depths of a Frian dungeon system was either part of his streak of good luck, or the beginning of a new strain of bad luck. It was impossible to tell. He found himself wanting to be angry about finding her as a mate. She wasn’t a Swarii; it shouldn’t have been possible to mate with her in the first place.

Still, he was obviously battling ‘the sickness.’ It felt like his men could easily cook an egg on his forehead, and he was sporting a raging hard-on that ached like it was set to explode.

Worst of all was the twitchy restlessness he felt in his every nerve. The others were moving gingerly around him, knowing that he was on edge, but they couldn’t have an idea what was going through his mind. His mind couldn’t let go of the fact that his mate was somewhere in the building, completely unguarded and vulnerable, and he was down in a locked dungeon, unable to protect her. He tried to think of anything else, and he couldn’t. He could barely remember what the mission was that had landed them here to begin with.

“How’s he doing?” Fie asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he jerked his chin in Graham’s direction.

“He’s…” Braum attempted to respond, but apparently the news wasn’t good. “Uh, surviving. If we can get the little thing down here again, he’d start to snap out of it a little. If he can just mate with her, that would take a lot of the pressure off, obviously. These are not ideal conditions for this to have happened.”

“Are we sure that it did?” Jio, the youngest of them, asked as he stepped forward. “I mean, she’s human. We know quite a bit about humans, right? This hasn’t come up in research before.”

Fie, the doctor on the crew, nodded and stretched the blond goatee that was beginning to grow. “True,” he admitted. “Our species are very close, but not so close that we’d have Mak-Tah with one of them. So, my guess is that she’s a whole different species that’s human-like and even closer to ours than the actual humans are. A species our scientists simply haven’t come across before. It’s not that unthinkable. After all, we find similar species that live in the same environment all the time. Sure, that’s normally not with intelligent lifeforms… but I have two very close types of honeybee in my gardens at home… So…”

“Wow,” Jio said with an appreciative whistle. “This could be huge. I mean, with the female shortage… if there was another species that we could breed with that would fill that necessity, then—?”

“Well, let’s not build the dam hoping for a river, here,” Braum said, snapping his fingers to get the others’ attention. “Right now, we have a few things we need to think about first. Escaping is one of them. Next, we need to facilitate a rescue mission for that female, because if this is the real thing, he’s only going to get worse.”

“Well, she left a big bag of tools,” Thorton said with a shrug of his shoulders before running his tongue over his lip, which was newly fattened from one of Graham’s recent attacks. “If we can’t figure out an escape with all that stuff, then we’re too worthless to live. We’ve done a lot more with a lot less. As long as we can get him back in sorts, we’re gonna be golden,” he announced, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in Graham’s direction.

“Just give him some time. He’ll come around a bit,” Braum assured.

“I don’t see how,” Thorton replied doubtfully. “I mean, think about it—she’s a slave girl. For all we know, she’s getting raped and manhandled even as we speak, and he’s gotta know that. Imagine what that’d do to a guy’s psyche? We have no idea what she goes through on a daily basis, but from what we saw this morning, I can tell you that her life ain’t ideal.”

Graham shuddered at Thorton’s words, wanting to rip his own hair out from the roots. He was right—Graham was so useless to her right now. What could he do for her? Why would fate curse her with such a worthless mate?

Braum smacked the back of Thorton’s head. “Shut up, Thorton! Don’t you know when to just keep your yap shut for two seconds! He can hear us, you know. He’s sick, not dead.”

All conversation ceased when they heard something outside the door. Graham shot to his feet and was already to the entrance by the time the door opened and revealed his tiny mate, looking around pensively.

She looked feverish, but actually a little better than she had when he’d seen her last. She was wearing a different suit, this one in two pieces rather than one, and her hair was pulled up off her neck. Her movements were much sleeker and smoother than they had been before, as well, and she walked without any hint of tenderness.

When the door shut behind her, locking her in with them once again, he came up to her. “Hello,” he grated to her. His voice sounded as broken as his mind.

She was looking up at him wearily, as if she wasn’t sure if being as close to him as she was now was actually safe. “Feeling better?” she asked suspiciously.

He hadn’t been seconds ago—all he’d wanted to do then was curl into a ball and press himself against the cold wall. But now that she was here, in front of him, safe and in one piece, he felt enough of his tension ease to actually function. “Yes,” he replied, trying to work up a smile rather than a grimace. “I’m sorry about before. I sort of lost control for a moment—I’m just glad it was more on Thorton than on you. But I apologize if I made you nervous or afraid of me,” he told her sincerely. “I wouldn’t want that.”

As if he could ever hurt her. Every cell in his body was crying for him to hold her close and never let her go.

“What happened, anyway?” she asked, her face pinching with confusion and cynicism. She went back to the control panel, looking like she was planning to go right back to work.

He spun around, looking for the pair of electrical gloves that he had seen Thorton throw out of the bag minutes before when he was making a list of materials they could potentially use to escape. He found the gloves—now forgotten on the floor—and picked them up and walked them over to her. “Here,” he said, before she could reach her fingers into the box filled with wires again. With the way his luck was going right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if this time the wires succeeded in frying her to death. “Can you wear these this time, please?” he asked her. “You forgot them.”

She looked up at him and then smiled awkwardly. She pulled the gloves from his hand but admitted as she was taking them, “I don’t really use them.”

“Maybe you should start,” he replied crisply. As if his mate working wasn’t bad enough, she was set to do it as unsafely as she could. Of course, fate would match him up with a woman as stubborn as he was. It figured.

She looked up at him as if she was going to fight about it, but then rolled her eyes. Apparently, the fight wasn’t worth it to her, because she unhappily slid the gloves on. “Fine. Can we go back to important stuff now? Like explain to me what happened,” she demanded, just as tersely. “Except this time don’t freak out over a couple of sparks…” she added dismissively.

“A couple of sparks?” he guffawed. “A couple of…” He locked his jaw, trying to calm himself. His nerves were too on edge, and he knew his patience was nearly nonexistent. “There was lightning shooting out of there!” he argued, pointing at the control box. He put up his thumb and forefinger together so closely that a flea would have suffocated. “You were this close to being crispy-crittered,” he reminded.

“Whatever,” she doubted, rolling her eyes again at him.

“Whatever?” he echoed, putting his hands over his eyes.

“Yeah. I—don’t—care,” she enunciated pedantically. “So whatever you say. I’m trying to get to the bottom of something here, and you keep trying to derail the conversation.”

She couldn’t be any more frustrating if she tried. Maybe she was trying to be difficult on purpose; he couldn’t quite tell. Either way, this attitude wasn’t going to serve her well in the future.

“We don’t feel strange because of the near-death experience,” he finally said, gathering his patience. “We feel strange because we touched skin-to-skin. Perhaps that was my fault—I had merely reacted at the time in a natural way, to get you away from harm, but we did touch, and I’m as surprised as anyone about the connection that happened afterward.”

She just blinked at him in a very judgmental way, as if she was deciding whether or not he was being silly or stupid.

The look made him further explain, “It’s hard to explain. Humans don’t have anything like it—if I remember correctly, they choose their mates at random. If they like someone’s face, that’s really all it takes, and then they follow around that person until they tire of it.”

“Everything you think is wrong, but continue,” she said suspiciously.

“Well,” he continued, not stopping to have a cultural heart-to-heart, “Swarii do not do that. We have fated matches. When you touch your fated match, it will spark Mak-Tah. Very roughly translated, ‘the Union.’ It sparks a physical, biological need to be with and mate with that particular person, and no one else.”

“And that’s what those guys think happened?” she asked, gesturing to his crew, who had taken their seats against the far wall and were watching their conversation much like one might attend a play.

“No,” he said, frowning. “That’s what happened between us. I’m answering the question of what happened. The Union happened. To us,” he clarified, pointing to him, then to her, then to himself again, trying to illustrate an attachment. “Don’t you… feel that?” he asked, beginning to worry after she just gazed blankly at him for a few long seconds.

“I don’t know,” she merely said, dubious. “What happens if we just… you know… ignore it?”

“Ignore it?” he echoed.

“Yeah. You know, you stay on your side of the cell, I stay on mine, and we ignore the fact that we’re suffering some sort of shell-shock from being electrocuted without tying any Swarii voodoo to the incident.”

He didn’t know the word ‘voodoo’ yet, but he had a feeling she thought he was talking about nonsense. She was the most stubborn person alive. It was clear she was feverish, she had to feel the sickness as well! Why was she so set against facing fact?

He supposed he could just take her. They were mates, for God’s sake, it was his right to mate with her as often as he wanted. But he didn’t want her to fear him, either, which put them both in a bind. He couldn’t force her to mate with him—that would lead to a very poor start to their bond, to say the very least. “You can’t ignore it!” he found himself snapping at her on behalf of his aching member. “Like it or not, you are my mate, and I am yours, and nothing will change that. If we don’t mate together, we will become overcome with this sickness we already feel. It will only get worse until we are both completely out of our senses. Some people don’t even live long after their mates die! They die from the withdrawal! Our blood is drugged with the need for each other. Pretending it never happened is not an option!”

“Look, Crazy,” she said, jabbing her small index finger against his chest. “I’m not your mate. You don’t mean anything to me. You’re Jazeel’s party favor and I’m his favorite slave. We’ve got no future, and nothing in common. You don’t even know my name!”

He was going to argue this point very firmly at first, but then he realized that he didn’t know her name yet. She hadn’t offered it. After staring at her for a long moment, he sighed and asked, defeated, “What is your name?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” she sneered.

“Of course it matters!” he snapped. “Stop being so unreasonable! I know your name isn’t ‘Pet,’ or whatever it was Jazeel calls you.”

She pursed her lips angrily for a long moment.

“Just tell me,” he sighed, exhausted.

“Ellie,” she huffed. “Ellie Jonas. Well, technically my name’s Eleanor, but everyone calls me Ellie. Satisfied? Enough name for ya?”

He was smirking now. He had never heard a similar name in all his life. Eleanor. He thought it was beautiful, and strong—a big name for a little body. It suited her. “Eleanor Jonas. Eleanor Jonas Mahstersyn,” he said aloud, testing it out on his own tongue.

“Masterson?” she repeated, pressing syllables together that normally had breaks. She wrinkled her nose. “Hey! What are you doing?” she demanded, suddenly turning to glare at Thorton, who was crouching in front of the control panel. Graham had been paying so much attention to her, he hadn’t even seen Thorton get to work.

“Hey, little lady,” Thorton greeted with a cheerful wave of a screwdriver. “Don’t pay me any mind. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I know what I’m doing—I was just going to make some adjustments while you both hammered this out.”

“No way!” she hissed. “If these doors don’t work right, they’ll never let me finish.”

“Oh, they’ll work,” he assured her. “I’m gonna borrow your pliers, here,” he said, plucking the tool from her hand.

She frowned at him, but then threw up her arms and sighed. She thought distantly about the guards outside, but she could hear that they were having a good laugh with each other even from here. As usual, there was no way they were paying any attention whatsoever. “Fine, whatever. Want my gloves?” she offered, peeling them off of her hands.

“Nah. Those will be too small for me. I don’t like wearing them, anyway,” he replied offhandedly. He brushed his fingers back and forth. “Carry on,” he allowed aloofly.

“Well?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Gonna say something to him about the gloves?” she asked, waving at Thorton with her whole arm. Thorton chuckled in response, obviously listening in.

Graham grunted and took her by the hand into the farthest, darkest corner in the room, hoping for at least an illusion of privacy, replying, “Thorton’s a grown man. He can do what he wants. He’s not my mate.”

“Neither am I!” she cried. When they stopped, she leaned up against the wall. “What can I do to get you to understand that?” she asked wearily.

“What can I do to get you to understand that you are?” he asked, echoing her frustration.

She suddenly shoved his torso with her hands, trying to push him back as she made an angry ‘raah’ sound. He tilted his head, looking at her. “You’re actually pretty adorable when you’re angry,” he mentioned aloud, raking his eyes over her pouty, kittenish expression.

“My adorability must be just unbearable right now,” she seethed. “Look, I admit, I feel weird and I can’t seem to really think straight. Perhaps I’ve been under too much stress lately, I don’t know. But what I do know is that when I decide on a guy, it’s not going to be anyone like you. You’re just a pedantic, overly tall, pushy, domineering—” she ranted, spitting every word at him.

It was then that both of their bodies took over. They were pulled together like two magnets, and Graham was unsure of who made the first move to lock them together. It seemed instantaneous.

He kissed her mouth deeply, tasting her, dominating her tongue with his own. He had never done this before, nor did he care about either of their technique. It felt good to be this close, to be in her already.

She bit down on his bottom lip slightly, making a breathy moan and linking her hands behind his neck. He pulled her body up on his, straddling her on a thigh he bent up against the wall.

He reached up and, wanting to get closer to her skin, ripped her shirt apart. Buttons sprayed across the floor as he revealed her lacy undergarment to his hungry gaze. The white, intricate fabric did nothing to hide her stone-hard nipples. “I hate you,” she growled when she released his mouth.

“I don’t like you either,” he assured, rasping and out of breath. “You’re a brat. Stubborn! Ridiculous! Whiny!” He lowered his mouth to cover the nipple, still imprisoned in its lacy confines. He sucked it for a second and then growled, “And covered with too many layers!” His hands were shaking with need as he fumbled around her utility belt, trying to figure out how to unfasten it from her waist to be able to pull down her pants.

Since he was a boy, Graham had fantasized about what it would be like to claim a woman for the first time. In none of his fantasies had he ever envisioned himself taking his mate against the wall of a prison cell while four of his subordinates watched from the other side of the room.

But at the moment, he found it impossible to be concerned about any of it. There was just blind, pulsing need for his mate. There was nothing else in his universe except for her, and her soothing heat pressing against his thigh. He knew that everything in his life would be right again as soon as he brought her to her release and then pulsed inside of her. Nothing was more important than that…

Just as he was a second away from snapping her belt in half with frustration, he heard her gasp and felt her body freeze. He turned and saw one of the largest humans he’d ever seen marching toward them. Thorton had rushed to step into the man’s way as Graham turned around and pulled her behind him to shield her body with his own. He didn’t know who this man was, but he was a threat.

More interestingly, that threat simply threw—literally threw—Thorton out of his way.

“Peyton,” Eleanor gasped. “Wait. Wait. Chill out!” He glanced back and saw her trying to press the edges of her shirt together where the buttons used to be.

Graham turned back toward the human male and growled, exposing his teeth. He had almost never felt the urge to show his fangs before, but he couldn’t help himself now. There was something primal within him that wanted nothing more than to tear out this Peyton’s heart and discard it, just for having the audacity to interrupt his mating.

‘Peyton,’ to his surprise and annoyance, didn’t even look intimidated, despite the fact that Graham was larger than him by at least a half-foot. The male looked like he was merely being presented a much-desired challenge.

“Graham! Peyton! Don’t!” Graham’s little mate jumped in front of him and pushed her arms against Peyton’s chest. “Shh!” she shushed. “Just don’t. We can just go.”

Graham felt his heart pace at her words. She couldn’t go. There was no going! She was his! His!

Both he and Peyton squared their shoulders and prepared to run at each other. Graham was set to sink his teeth into him, which wasn’t an instinct he had felt before, just as someone grabbed his arms from behind and pulled him back.

It was his whole team. Graham roared in fury and grasped to get out of their hold and at least reach his mate, but they pulled him further back, except for Thorton, who was back on his feet and putting his hands up to the human to show that there was no quarrel, adding that there was no need to inform anybody about anything that was going on down here.

Peyton sneered, took off his coat, and tossed it violently toward Eleanor, who caught it in her hand. “Put that on,” he ordered her in a growl. “You and I are going to have a long discussion.”

“Peyton—” she began, looking wide-eyed and panicked.

“Now.” The male gave her a look that could kill.

Graham’s skin prickled. Had that male just threatened his mate?

He fought even harder. Thorton immediately jogged over and pushed him back as the others pulled, protecting the human male from Graham’s wrath. “You’re not gonna touch her!” Graham growled as he continued to struggle and claw to get away from his men. “She’s mine.”

As soon as she pulled the male’s coat over her shoulders, Peyton grabbed her upper arm in his large grasp. “She’s mine,” he assured, turning toward Graham with threat behind his piercing, dark blue eyes. “I’m Prime. You’re chopped liver. I see her down here again, and I will bring your world to a quicker close.” He tugged on her arm and propelled her in the direction of the door. “Let’s go.”

Eleanor turned to glance back at him, but he barely got to look on her for a whole second before the prime pushed her out of the room the rest of the way. Then, she was gone.

* * *

Despite what Peyton had said, they didn’t have much of a discussion. Certainly it wasn’t a long one. What they had could more aptly be described as a begging ceremony, where Ellie tried her best to keep Peyton from taking the skin off her after he dragged her by the scruff of the coat he’d lent to her all the way up to the gardens to snap a fresh switch.

She’d never been switched before, but as she still had bruises from earlier that day, she didn’t really feel up to finding out what the combination would be like.

“Peyton,” she tried again, her eyes following his newly cut switch’s every movement as he tested it on his own thigh. “If you can just hear me out—”

Peyton showed no signs that he was interested in hearing her out. In the next moment, he grabbed her upper arm and wheeled her roughly toward her bedroom.

“I know what I saw,” he retorted. “And what I saw was you lose your everlovin’ mind. I’m gonna tan the brains back into you, girl!”

Desperately, she grabbed ahold of her doorframe when he dragged her across the threshold of her bedroom, certain that there was nothing good to be experienced within. “Well, I can kind of explain that if you—Ack!” She forgot how strong Peyton was. She was surprised she didn’t take a chunk of the doorframe with her when he pulled her in and shut the door behind them.

He started stripping the bark off the switch he’d found as Ellie regained her footing.

It was time to explain things as quickly and as eagerly as possible, because she had no time for missteps in her story. “Alright, before you go nuts—there’s something weird afoot. Earlier, it was possible that something happened between me and that Swarii, and supposedly that’s the reason for the fever. There’s something big going on down there. Maybe I did lose my mind! I don’t know. I couldn’t help it, though, Peyton. I really couldn’t. It just happened! I mean, that commander’s actually kind of an ass, but I was still…”

“Lettin’ him in between your legs like a li’l hussy? Yeah. I saw,” Peyton assured grimly.

She blushed profusely before she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. “I’m not a hussy, Peyton,” she finally said, feeling small. “I know I put you at risk, though, and I am super-sorry about that.”

“Risk? Risk? You were about to screw me—and not in the good way!” he blared. “May I remind you of what would happen if you…”

“I wasn’t thinking about you…” she admitted. “I wasn’t thinking really much at all. I just… forgot.”

Peyton looked at her with a very intimidating, very offended expression. “Yeah? Well, consider this your reminder. Pants off.”

She, instead, put her hands on her pants like she was determined to hold them onto her hips at all costs. “Just let me tell you my side of the story, at least!”

“Alright,” he said, tapping the switch impatiently against the side of his leg. “Talk. It better be real educational.”

She shifted her weight foot to foot, staring at the switch. “I can’t talk when you have that… thing in your hand,” she told him, waving at the switch he was wielding.

“Talk,” he ordered.

“Okay…” She bit her lip for a moment, and then unleashed it all. She recited everything that she had said and heard in the dungeon word-for-word, but in the end, Peyton just looked more pissed than he already was. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move, but the tenseness in his jaw and the way he was glaring at her spoke volumes of its own accord.

She got goosebumps over her arms as she realized that the reason he hadn’t said anything or moved at all in the course of the story was because he was frightened that if he did, he’d do something rash.

She sighed and accepted her judgement. “Can I change my shirt, at least?” she said, her posture an illustration of capitulation.

“Strip,” he ordered, but it was a short, controlled word.

“Peyton…” she whined. She hated being completely naked in front of him. And she hadn’t been naked and alone with him since their first day together. Not that there was anything between them, but she had imagined that they had a relationship that was a little more equal than his relationship with the other girls.

Now, she was presented with a lesson that she thought she’d never have to learn twice: Never blatantly disobey Peyton.

Peyton wasn’t in the mood to be whined at. He stepped toward her, and she covered her body as if she were already nude. He made short work of undressing her against her will—although Ellie was strong in spirit, she wasn’t particularly strong in any other way, especially in comparison to a beast of a man like Peyton.

Not that she fought very hard against him. By the time he took his own jacket from her, her eyes welled up with tears.

She was wailing by the time he ripped her pants down to her ankles.

“Stop your bellyachin’,” he snapped. “We haven’t even begun yet, princess.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring enough to get her to stop wailing and begging, but he ignored her pleas as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her bed, forcing her down on it. She was helpless—pinned by the small of her back.

And then he began to switch her.

The switch certainly didn’t feel the way she had feared it would. To her surprise, she discovered that it felt a million times worse.

It turned out that she hadn’t been very creative when she wondered what being switched was like. Her mind hadn’t even begun to fathom the type of pain that went along with a switching. Mostly because she had never equated itching with pain—or was it itching? The way her skin seemed to quiver after each stroke of the switch was uncomfortable enough to make her want to soothe the hot, inflamed welts it left behind, but it was a pain that couldn’t be scratched away.

It was surely possible that the entire palace could hear her caterwauling; the only thing she could do to seek retribution on Peyton was to try to make his ears bleed. But he didn’t stop—he was practically a professional at wielding the implement that bit into her flanks.

He even was able to lecture her in a way that was audible around her sobs. “Oh, this could get so much worse,” he promised. “I told you not to talk to them, and then what do you do? Blatantly disobey me and worse! Do you know—do you have any idea—what would have happened if you allowed him to have his way with you? If I didn’t come in just in that second? How could you be so thoughtless? So selfish? So goldarn stupid? After all we’ve been through, you go behind my back and do that… There’s no excuse! None whatsoever!”

It was clear that Peyton wasn’t interested in just scorching her bottom for her, either. He switched her all the way down to just above the back of her knees, until she brought up her feet protectively, and then he grabbed them both in turn and soon enough each pad of her foot had a couple of stripes across it.

“Spread your legs wider,” he ordered above her sobs.

She wanted to cry out, “Are you crazy?” but she wouldn’t dare. She knew if she spread her legs wide, which she had taken great care to keep from doing thus far in the punishment, it would only give him new, tender targets, but if she didn’t obey it would just make things even worse.

It was clear that the switching wouldn’t end until she spread her legs, so she ever-so-slowly began to scoot her feet carefully away from each other. Peyton held her legs open with one large hand while he made sure both inner thighs were thoroughly welted. When he paused at last, she dared to hope it was over, and then—

Swish-Swick! The switch fell directly across the tender, swollen lips of her labia.

She thought she was going to die.

As the punishment of her intimate areas continued, a passionate need to stop the pain took control of her completely. This need didn’t care about her pride. She began to make promises and apologies of all sorts. She promised eternal obedience, she apologized for talking to the Swarii, she apologized for looking at them, she apologized for being born, and she promised that she would stay a virgin for the rest of her life. She would have promised to turn into a pink elephant, too, if she had thought that would make any difference.

Finally, it stopped.

She continued to sob, but her throat hurt too much to speak after all her yelping, screaming, and crying. There wasn’t much to say on her behalf—she had gone against Peyton’s orders and violated his trust, risking his safety and probably her own, and she had been thoroughly punished.

She didn’t move, just rested wearily in place.

Peyton dropped the switch to her side and announced that she would stay in her room all night and would go without dinner. She made no complaints; she wasn’t hungry, anyway. How could she eat or move around the palace after that? All she wanted to do when Peyton left the room and locked the door behind him as if she was a naughty little girl who might try to run away was to curl up in bed and cry into her pillow until she went to sleep, which is exactly what she did.

* * *

Peyton entered Mary’s room, which was situated just across the hall from Ellie’s. He was feeling exhausted, but Mary was there when he entered, standing in the center of the room with a sour expression and her hands placed firmly on her hips.

She didn’t look pleased about something, and he hoped that whatever it was had nothing to do with him.

“Peyton Zachary Jones!” she snapped incredulously. “What on God’s green earth were you doing in there? Killing her?”

He sighed; nope, he was definitely the one she was annoyed with. He reached up and rubbed one of his ears, which was still ringing after all the screaming that Ellie had been doing. “We’re not on God’s green earth anymore, Mary,” he reminded gruffly. “We’re in hell, and Ellie lost her damn mind!”

Mary raised an eyebrow, looking doubtful, despite the fact that they had spoken at great lengths about how weird Ellie was. Mary crossed her arms in front of her chest and settled her feet as if she expected to be standing where she was for a good long while. “Explain,” she ordered him.

Peyton tilted his face up at the ceiling, exasperated. “I don’t need to explain!” he groaned. He looked back at her, trying to look firm as he added, “I have a job to do, and I do it.”

“You do have to explain,” she assured firmly, “because even though Ellie’s a little hard to bear sometimes, she has pulled us both out of the fire numerous times. I’ve never been in Jazeel’s chamber other than during an inspection, if you haven’t recalled. I haven’t been abused or manhandled. And why? Because you asked her to make sure it never happened, and she did. She’s hidden our relationship from everyone, she’s kept us both out of harm’s way. Now, what could she have done that was so wrong that it didn’t warrant a little leniency from you?”

Peyton muttered that he didn’t have time for a full explanation, but it was clear that if Mary had a rolling pin on her, he’d be beaten about the head with it before he could say ‘angry wife.’ So, he made time to tell Mary everything Ellie had told him, making sure that he made it clear just how stupid Ellie had been that entire day.

He was surprised that, even at the end of his story, Mary’s calmness only reminded him of an oncoming storm.

“She could have gotten me killed!” he recapped defensively. “Her tits were out of her shirt, there were buttons all over the floor…” He threw his hands wildly into the air, since apparently words alone weren’t enough of an illustration for Mary.

“She might have lost her mind, yes,” Mary said, reaching up and giving him a calming pat on his chest. “But c’mon, now. We both know Ellie’s not a hussy. She still calls penises ‘things.’ She’s not very mature for a nineteen-year-old, and she’s never been anything like a sexual creature before now. So that means something must have happened between this Swarii commander and her, and she’s telling the truth. Something we can’t understand.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him with her beautiful green eyes. “Perhaps they did accidentally mate, like the Swarii said.”

Peyton made a guffawing noise in his throat.

“Why is it so impossible?” Mary asked him. “You know me—I’m not one to trust other species, either, but we’re running out of time. Galaal will be here in just a couple of days, and our lives will change. What if they plan to breed me? Or sell Ellie? Or vice-versa?

“I’m scared, Peyton. I wake up every day scared of what’s going to happen to us. You’re too important to me to lose.” She put a soft hand on his cheek, and then lowered her voice and spoke in low, quiet tones. “Now, if these men actually think Ellie’s their commander’s mate, they’re going to try to escape with her. We need to help them get out, and we need to make sure they don’t leave us behind.”

Mary always had a way of quickly transforming Peyton’s heart into an unraveling ball of twine. The strings of it felt pulled taut. “Mary,” he said, with feeling, “we haven’t not gotten out of here yet because I’ve enjoyed myself. It hasn’t been because I’m too lazy to find a way out, or that I don’t want it more than anything. But humans can’t use Frian weapons. They can’t fly Frian ships. How are we supposed to get anywhere? We can’t use their stupid crystal technology.”

“Are the Swarii able to use crystal technology?” she asked. “I’ve heard they can shal’ta—so why couldn’t they use whatever telekinetic energy they need for the ships?” she asked, lifting her palms upward as if she was physically serving this idea to him on a platter.

Peyton stilled and his eyelashes combed together as he considered this. “I don’t know…” he admitted, but then quickly waved off the idea and any hope that was attached. “Let’s say they can. It doesn’t matter. We couldn’t trust them, right? They’re aliens!”

Mary groaned and rubbed her fingers delicately against her temples in a circular motion. “Peyton!” She rolled her eyes and then shook her head at the ceiling. “I mean, when Ellie was talking about them earlier, I had my doubts. But prejudice against all other species this week is a luxury we don’t have. Perhaps this is the time we should start looking for allies and friends. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

He continued to think about this.

“I want a life with you. I want to be married to you, and sleep with you, and have kids with you. Your kids,” she clarified, reminding him that if she had to be bred with someone else, he would feel like his heart was ripped out. To have to stand by and watch that… how could he?

“This could be our last chance,” she reminded him, bunching his shirt in her fingers.

He slowly pulled her fingers free, and then brought up her hands to kiss her knuckles. She was never rash, he reminded himself, and she was extremely intelligent. If she thought that this was a risk worth taking, he decided, than it probably was. He liked to think of himself as the head of their relationship, but then again, he knew he had all but lost hope after being a slave for five years under these conditions. Maybe he had become too wary of taking risks.

She was right. This might be their only chance… and there was only one way to find out.

He had to go talk with the Swarii.

* * *

Ellie’s new boyfriend was pretty terrifying, Peyton decided. He hadn’t noticed before because he had been so aghast by how close Ellie was to having sex with the guy, but now that he was trying to ‘make nice’ he was noticing that the commander was not the kind of man that most would want to fuck around with.

Luckily, three of the five Swarii spoke very good English. The other two just stood to the side, looking grumpy and intimidating. Luckily, the commander himself spoke English fluently, and after some angry words when Peyton first entered, he finally let Peyton say his piece.

Unfortunately, as soon as Peyton was done saying his piece, five sets of eyes just blinked at him judgmentally. The commander looked extremely pissed, but at least he had stopped baring his canines at him.

After the silence had gotten unsettling, he turned to the shortest of the Swarii. “Did he… understand all that?” he asked with uncertainty.

“Yeah,” the Swarii replied. He was also the bulkiest. Out of them all, he was the one who looked most like a pirate, Peyton decided. “He’s had a rough day and thinking’s very hard for him right now. He’s usually a little more… sane.”

“There seems to be a lot of crazy going around these days,” Peyton admitted, shrugging apologetically. “In my defense, though, I got in a twist because Jazeel loves surprise inspections. He checks the virginity of every girl in here about ten times a year. If he finds one that’s not, he blames me. And then it’s snip-snip.” He snipped the air with invisible scissors.

All three Swarii who understood him winced. “Urgh.”

“Yeah, eunuchs are a thing here. I really don’t want to become one,” Peyton stated flatly.

He said this because he knew it would lighten some of the hostility toward him. It immediately did, even for the commander. After his words were translated to Swarii by the tallest of them, who could easily be called a blond giant, even the other two dramatically lightened their stance.

“I don’t appreciate anyone chastising my mate without my permission,” Graham finally told him, but at least he didn’t snarl the words, which was how he had been conversing previously. “And you did, didn’t you?”

Peyton hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “I took a switch to her ass, not anything more. I’d never smack her around or do anything like that. I love Ellie.” He raised his hands when the commander’s eye darkened at the words. “Like a sister,” he firmly clarified. “I have my own—erhm… mate.”

“Explain to me what a switch is,” Graham replied, narrowing his eyes at him like a sleepy cat might.

“It’s a whippy little stick that you strip the bark off of. It doesn’t cut the skin or anything. Just makes ‘em think twice.”

He nodded and rubbed his hand over his face. “We punish wives in the same way,” he admitted to him wearily. “Just… never touch her again and I think we can come to terms. Yes—to your question about crystal technology. My people don’t build it into their own equipment, but we do have the ability to utilize it.”

He squinted, as it seemed that the commander was using bigger words than he normally did. “Where’d you boys learn to speak my language?”

“That is actually an awesome story,” said the shorter, bulkier one. “So, there was this huge slave uprising on Klandara in the Northwest Region, and—”

“Thorton,” the commander sighed, silencing him. He waved dismissively at him. “Bedtime stories can wait for later. Prime, what are you down here for?”

Peyton straightened. “My wife and I need to leave this planet, and if you know crystal technology, then I can tell you how to get to a ship. If you help us escape, then we’ll help you.”

“How soon?” the commander asked, his eyebrows raising up.

“As soon as tonight,” Peyton replied. “Once everyone’s in bed and there’s a change of the guard.”

The commander looked over at the short one, who Peyton had now gathered was named Thorton, and they exchanged a couple of words.

Thorton shook his head, and said in English, apparently for Peyton’s benefit, “I say we listen to what Muscles’ plan is. I might be able to get us out… but not that fast and not that pretty.”

Peyton smirked and stepped forward when the commander crooked his fingers at him and said, “Alright. Tell us your plan. I’m ready to take my mate home.”

“That makes two of us,” Peyton assured, feeling the first surge of hope he’d had since he was first abducted. He just prayed to God that his hope wouldn’t be in vain.

* * *

Thank God. The human had led him right to her room.

Thorton had been more taken by the prime than Graham had been, saying that not just anyone could toss him around, and he might be useful in the future. Graham was still a little hesitant to trust a human slave—Eleanor herself said that most human slaves weren’t to be trusted.

But there he was. And there she was: naked and bathed in moonlight. His mate.

She made little grunting and squeaking sounds when she slept. It was adorable; Graham was certain that he could stand there and watch her all night… Especially that amazing, round little bottom.

She was sleeping on her belly, probably because of the little welts that had risen over her skin in several areas. There were a few bruises on her thighs, as well, but he was certain those were from Jazeel.

He crouched next to her and slowly reached his hand out and touched her skin. He thought she would wake up immediately, but she didn’t. With a curious eye, he stood transfixed, watching his hand move over her hip, pressing his fingers bravely against her flesh.

It was hard to breathe. He had never been this close to a naked woman before, and he had certainly never touched one. He hadn’t any idea how soft or smooth they were, or how warm.

He traced his finger down what seemed like a bump, but then he realized it was a welt. He inspected it with a feather-light touch, and her body shifted slightly. Her legs were spread wider, and he found himself drawn to what was between her thighs.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get that far. She woke up, groggily at first, and then took a deep breath. He quickly slapped his hand over her mouth, covering it before she could start shrieking. “Shh!” he said, putting the index finger of his other hand to his mouth. “Shh, Eleanor. It’s me—Graham,” he whispered.

Her round eyes blinked at him, looking somewhere between surprised and panicked. “I’m going to let you go, now. You need to get up, and get dressed. Understand?”

She nodded, and so he slowly let her go.

She took the pillow she had been laying her head on and whacked him with it. “What’s the matter with you?” she hissed. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of me, you pervert!” She slapped him with the pillow again. “Were you touching me?” she demanded, then hit him once more before picking herself up from the bed and using the pillow to shield the front of herself from his sight. “How’d you get in here?”

“No time to explain. We need to hurry. My men went ahead without us, and they’ll be waiting,” he whispered, pulling himself up on his feet and stretching out his hand to help her up.

Her mouth hung open. “I can’t just leave,” she told him.

“Yes, you can. Get dressed.”

She didn’t argue with him about this; she seemed happy enough to dress. Despite the fact that her master had no scruples about undressing her in front of his company, she clearly wasn’t comfortable being nude in front of people. Shielding herself the entire time, she scurried to the closet, pulled out some clothes, and dressed quickly.

“Pack. Not much. Just a change of clothes or two for the journey,” he advised, coming into the closet behind her as soon as she had tugged on a dress over her head. He pulled the pillow out of its case and began to throw clothes inside.

“I’m not just going to go. If I disappear, my friends will get punished!” she told him firmly. “We have to take them.”

“Eleanor, hurry,” Graham demanded.

“What is taking you so long?” a gruff voice said behind them. He turned and saw Peyton himself, holding the hand of a blonde girl who was standing behind him, eyeing Graham wearily. “They’ll leave without us! We have to cover two kilometers in ten minutes!”

Eleanor startled for a moment and said, “Peyton! I didn’t know that—”

“Come on!” Peyton demanded, waving his hand toward him. “Our window of opportunity is closing fast.”

Graham was kicking himself. He should have woken Eleanor up right away, not gawked at her. He knew that they hadn’t much time—what was the matter with him? Where had his mind gone?

Scolding himself inwardly, he grabbed Eleanor’s arm and pulled her behind him, following Peyton from the room. With his free hand he pulled a blaster that Peyton had procured for him from where he had stored it inside of his jacket.

His mate was not very silent when she moved. As he followed Peyton out into the hallway, behind them all was the clapping of Eleanor’s bare feet as she tried to keep up. Graham sighed and picked her up.

She huffed uncomfortably as he toted her under one arm.

Peyton bent down and plucked his fingers at a steel grate on the floor until it came loose. “Go through there. It’ll put us outside on the right side of the building,” he promised, leading his blonde-haired mate to the tunnel and then picking her up and carefully lowering her down into the tunnel until her feet touched the bottom.

Suddenly, a Frian came around the corner, right behind Peyton. Graham lined up his blaster, but Peyton turned around, reached up, and grabbed the taller Frian on both sides of his head. There was a loud ‘crunch’ as he twisted the Frian’s neck awkwardly to the side with one powerful motion.

Graham had never seen anyone kill a Frian with his bare hands. He stood there and took account—thinking how Thorton simply wouldn’t believe this when he told him. Peyton turned back, his face looking disgusted. “Hurry,” he whispered.

Graham lowered Eleanor down into the tunnel with one arm until the blonde helped her down the last couple of feet to the ground. Peyton picked up the body and followed them both down, leaving Graham to follow them and seal the grate behind them.

“Can you make it to the ship dock in eight minutes?” Graham asked him, grabbing Eleanor’s hand into his own.

“Can you?” Peyton challenged.

“I can’t,” Eleanor put in abruptly, putting up her hand. “That’d be a way hella fast run in the dark, guys. We ain’t gonna make it.”

“I can see in the dark,” Graham told Peyton, picking up Eleanor like she was a doll. “I’ll lead the way.”

Peyton mirrored Graham and picked up the blonde into his own arms, saying, “Well, at least you’re good for something.” Graham thought that Peyton was slighting him until he noticed his slight smirk.

He smirked back. “Just keep up, human.”

“Let’s kick this pig,” Peyton said, and Graham turned, wondering what exactly he meant by that. Peyton just shook his head and said, “Never mind. It means ‘let’s go.’”

Graham raised an eyebrow and grumbled, “If you say so…” Then he took off down the tunnel.

* * *

Even though Graham had actually carried her, while running at least two kilometers toward the ship dock, Ellie could not see any of his crew there at all. It looked as calm as the grave except for themselves and Peyton huffing along behind them.

Graham stopped and scanned around, and upon seeing something that must have drawn him, continued to race toward a ship that didn’t stand out to her at all until the entry ramp lowered from the back of its relatively small exterior. Lowering with it was the shortest of the crew, who was easy to spot because of his stocky form. She remembered his name was Thorton.

He was grinning. “Nice to see you’ve made it! We were set to leave without you.”

Graham grunted, and as soon as he walked up the ramp, he put Ellie on her feet. “Everything under way, then?”

“Yeah. It’s not a great ship by any means, but it’ll do for a while as long as it holds together,” Thorton replied casually in English.

When Peyton put Mary on her feet and she looked up at Thorton with wide eyes, obviously a little intimidated, Thorton smiled at her. Looking over her head at Peyton, he said, “How thoughtful! You brought along lunch.”

Ellie whirled around, startled, and saw that Mary looked pale. Peyton, on the other hand, just looked extremely annoyed. After a supercharged three seconds, Thorton gave a laugh. “I’m just kidding! You all need to learn to relax!” Over his head, he called out, “Close the hatch!” and the hatch immediately began to close.

She pursed her lips at the jokester for a second, but then Graham grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind them through another door that led into the main part of the ship. She looked around. She had been on several ships before as a mechanic’s assistant for Jazeel, but this one looked ancient in comparison to what she’d seen.

She was beginning to think Thorton’s offhanded mention that it was fine as long as it held together was actually a concern.

“Why are we using one this old?” she asked, turning to Graham.

“Because ships this old don’t have a remote pilot function,” Graham replied, dragging her through the ship toward the command room. The other three Swarii were there, strapped into their seats and waiting for them. “Buckle in,” Graham ordered her, pushing her toward an empty seat.

She sat down, mostly because his push had landed her on the seat whether she wanted to sit down or not. Mary sat down next to her and immediately began to figure out how to strap herself in; after ten seconds, Peyton came by and helped her.

Mary looked over at Ellie and raised an eyebrow. “What?” she asked, concerned.

“What do you mean, what? I’m nervous,” Ellie replied frankly, and then stood up from her seat and walked over to Graham, who was standing over the console between the two men who had never spoken to her. Graham looked like he was busy using the navigational system. After running two kilometers so quickly he should have been breathing hard, but he wasn’t. As it was, she was beginning to feel worthless. She still couldn’t believe that he had carried her that whole way. “Hey,” she said, poking him sharply with her finger. “What can I do to help?”

“Sit down and be quiet,” he directed, not turning away from the navigational system.

That was a little easier said than done; she didn’t like sitting down for ten seconds. Her bottom was still killing her. “Believe it or not, I can help,” she told him.

“You’re distracting,” he informed, leaning over the control panel and then sitting in the chair in front of it. He turned and gave her bottom a hard smack, which, just like the last time he swatted her, she didn’t see coming.

She grabbed her bottom and glared indignantly at him, but all he said was, “Do as I ask.”

She didn’t, she just stood there, glaring harder. He was typing something into the keyboard in front of him. He didn’t look up as he asked, “Are you still there?”

She flipped him off. Not that he was even looking at her with anything more than a peripheral glance, and he probably wouldn’t have understood the gesture even if he was giving her his full attention. But it still made her feel slightly better for a split second before the ship began to hover from the ground and all the lights on the panel started flashing red.

“I didn’t do it!” she said, holding up her hands to show she wasn’t touching anything. Something was broken; she had long ago discovered that red was a universal color of malfunctions.

Graham muttered something under his breath in his own language, looking intensely at the screen in front of him.

A panel next to her lit up with a bunch of text scrolling across. She couldn’t read much Frian, even after having lived on the planet for a full year, but she did recognize one bit of text. “Wire 119 dead.” She had helped fix enough electrical problems in the last year to understand what that meant, and she knew exactly where that wire would be located.

The ship wasn’t stopped; in fact, it was picking up speed. In the large windows in front of them, the horizon began to darken as the ship sailed up through the atmosphere.

She tripped over her feet for a moment, feeling the ship tilt wildly, but then fell right next to the panel she meant to get to anyway. She flipped her body around so she was underneath the control panel and facing up, and then opened the panel to get to the wires underneath.

“One nineteen… One nineteen…” she said, staring up at wires that were marked with runes, which she had learned were numbers. She closed her thumb and forefinger over the wire and inspected it. It had a slice going through it.

She had just frowned at it when Thorton suddenly crawled next to her. “I found wire 119,” she told him. “Got some spare line?”

“Yeah,” he replied, then rolled over to access a small roll of wire in his hands. He twisted off a piece efficiently using his bare hands, something she’d never seen done before. “Cool,” she said, taking it from him. “What’s this do?” she said, beginning to replace it from its start point.

“We need it to launch into hyperspace,” he replied, his tone sounding nearly out of breath.

“Eleanor!” Graham said from somewhere above them. “You have done more than try my patience, mate. Go sit down and buckle up before I take off my belt!”

The threat had her seeing red with anger. “Just drive the ship, asshole,” she seethed in reply. She handed the dead wire to Thorton and began to twist the new one into place. “That man’s pushy,” she explained to Thorton, who looked at her anxiously.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered secretively, then watched her work. He might have been stronger than her, but she fancied herself faster. She hadn’t met anyone else who could wire something together faster than she could. Rewiring had always been her specialty at her family’s garage.

Thorton disappeared for a moment, and then came back another second later. “You got it working,” Thorton told her, patting her thigh. “Good job, kitten,” he added with a wink.

A voice above them clucked something in Swarii. She didn’t understand it, but she could assume it was that they needed to enter hyperspace, because Thorton immediately pulled himself out from under the console, saying, “Get seated!”

She blinked at him, not understand his rush, and then suddenly her ankle was grabbed and she was dragged out from under the control dock. Graham hauled her to her feet in his next movement and sat down in his chair with her so quickly that her head swam.

As soon as she realized that Graham was holding her down in his lap, his arms around her like straps, the ship lurched into hyper-drive.

Since she had been drugged on her journey between Earth and Jazeel’s planet, she hadn’t remembered what hyper-drive was like. Or maybe this hyper-drive was different, since they were on an older ship. Regardless, the sensation was similar to what she imagined a strawberry’s was when it was being sucked through a straw after sitting at the bottom of a glass of lemonade, but in this case the strawberry got spat back out at hyper-speed.

It seemed like even gravity itself was trying to figure out what had happened. Whether it lasted for a minute or an hour, she didn’t know. She might have passed out, but either way, her brain felt like it was turning into mush.

And then everything returned to normal, and she was able to look around to find herself clinging to Graham like a wild yet frightened animal. He was looking at her, looking less than amused, and so she slowly and awkwardly plucked her fingers away from where they were curled into his shirt and jacket. She would have slowly climbed off of his lap, as well, if he hadn’t put his hand under her chin to keep her head up so that her eyes were focused on his own. “Are you well?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she wheezed.

“Good,” he acknowledged brusquely and stood up. She slid off of his lap and he helped her settle her bare feet on the floor as he looked around the room. She looked too—everyone was looking alert and staring at him, and so he said something in Swarii. He stopped in front of Peyton, who was looking a little dazed, but snapped his head up to give Graham his attention. “If you or your mate have needs, ask Thorton,” he pointed to the shortest one, “or Fie,” he said, pointing to the tallest, blond Swarii, who spun around in his seat and gave a friendly wave. “I am not to be disturbed for the next hour except for life-or-death circumstances.”

He turned and pulled her by the hand with him toward the back of the ship.

Peyton asked, “Where are you going?”

“To mate,” Graham replied tersely. Ellie had stopped walking at the pronouncement, and he pulled her along with him.

“Wait,” she said, pulling back on her arm. “No, wait—Graham. No, we’re not going to do that!” she protested, her heart racing. Her bare feet dragged across the floor, even though she dug in her heels. Obviously, he was stronger than her, and at least twice her weight, maybe three times. “Graham!” she screamed, afraid at his unwillingness to stop and at least talk with her before pulling her into a back room intent on fucking her.

“Where are you going with her?” Peyton said, standing just behind her now. She took a breath of relief that he would finally stand up for her for once. “She doesn’t want to go with you.”

Graham stopped pulling and took a step toward Peyton, never letting go of Ellie. “And that’s none of your business. She is none of your business,” Graham told him pointedly. He jerked his chin at something behind Peyton. “You have your own woman. This one is mine.”

“She’s not yours,” Peyton growled at him, taking Ellie’s other hand and jerking her back. “She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

Graham tugged her one way, and Peyton tugged her back. She squeaked, hoping that the two men wouldn’t accidentally tear her apart like she was a Christmas toy that they were fighting over. But Graham didn’t let it last for long. He locked his jaw, and then pulled the blaster out of his utility belt.

The blaster warmed up with a whirr as he pointed it at Peyton’s head. “Step away, Muscles,” Graham ordered. “I’m not in the mood to dance with you.”

Peyton didn’t move.

“Graham, stop it!” she cried, still trying to break free of his grasp. Knowing that wasn’t going to work, and that Peyton was too hard-headed to back down, she said, “Peyton, it’s okay!” The last thing she wanted him to do was blow his escape when he and Mary was so close to freedom.

“Peyton,” she said more softly, panting, “it’s okay.”

Peyton looked down at her, and she shot him her most sincere look. His eyes shifted toward Mary, and then back at her. Hesitantly, he let go of her wrist.

Graham continued walking her down the hall, opened the nearest door hatch, looked inside, and then closed it again. He went to the next room as she snapped at him, “That was stupid!”

“Is there ever a time when you are silent?” he gritted, opening the door. He looked in, then pushed her in front of him before closing the door behind him. He let her go to turn on the lights.

She looked around, finding that they were in a sort of bedroom. She suddenly felt a stinging paralysis within her legs. Heat rose to her cheeks, and it was suddenly very hard to breathe. It was also very hard to look anywhere that wasn’t at Graham’s boots.

“I have a right mind to take you across my knee, little mate,” he snapped at her when he turned back in her direction. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face toward him. “The only reason I’m not is because I know the human chastised you unjustly yesterday, but I will not be spoken to like that in front of my men, or even in private. I will have your respect. And you don’t have to like my orders, but you do have to follow them.”

Her cheeks flushed at his threat. Would he really spank her? Was she just going to go from one person who spanked her to the next? “I’ll respect you when you deserve it,” she hissed. “And I was helping. I fixed your wiring problem.”

“That’s what Thorton’s for. He’s our engineer,” he responded without anything that sounded like gratitude.

“And I’m not your mate,” she continued, undaunted. “I didn’t even choose to go on a date with you. Nor would I!”

He looked offended at his, his face pinching with anger. “You’re not exactly my dream mate, either,” he finally told her. “But that choice is behind us now. Things are what they are. Now we’re both angry, sick, and tired, and there’s only one thing we can do to fix it.” He turned around and pulled off his shirt as he walked toward a sink and turned it on.

She stifled a gasp. His entire back and chest was black and blue, and where it wasn’t, he was scraped and scratched. Dried blood lined down from just under his arm until it disappeared at his waistline. He was covered with dirt and grime everywhere. He splashed some water across his face and the back of his neck, and then rinsed himself off with a towel. “Get undressed,” he told her, catching her eye in the reflection of the mirror in front of him.

She dug her feet against the cold floor underneath her. Panic was gone now, and she knew she couldn’t plot her way out of this one. There was only one thing that was going to happen: after everything she’d been through so far, she was going to lose her virginity to an alien. Not just any alien, but a strange, pushy one that she’d known for less than a day.

She hadn’t thought much about what her ‘first time’ would be like, but this wasn’t it. Disappointment felt like it was burning a hole in her stomach. She looked down at her hands, not that they looked at all extraordinary, but because they were shaking, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Just like she couldn’t do anything about… anything.

“Hey…” Graham said, walking quickly over to her. This time, his tone wasn’t frank, or coarse, or firm. He had made his tone soothing, and he took her hands in his own when he stepped up to her. His hands felt very warm around hers. “Hey, come here.” He gently guided her to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. She was still looking at her hands, and at the difference in the size between his and hers. Hers were like a child’s hands in comparison to his.

“I am sorry for my gruffness with you,” he finally said gently. He gave a sigh and added, “My mother would have tried to skin me alive if she knew I’d ever treat my mate like that. I’m just not in my right mind, Eleanor. Believe it or not, but I’m going to be a good mate to you.”

“You’re not my mate,” she argued, shaking her head, her throat feeling choked.

He let go of her hands and reached back to pet his fingers through her hair. “Well, you’re mine,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to trap you. You just are. I can feel it. It’s like… being able to touch for the first time. Whenever I touch you. It’s like… smelling for the first time, whenever I catch your scent. I’m feel overwhelmed, because it feels like I’ve been asleep all my life, and I’m just waking up now, and everything around me feels like more than I can take.” He took a deep breath in through his nose.

“See, I’m used to that feeling,” she told him. “On Earth, we don’t know about people living on other planets.” He grunted with amusement at that. She couldn’t keep from a smile, either. It seemed pretty ridiculous now. “But then I was captured… I hadn’t even left my state before then. I barely’d left town. And then… Well, a lot has happened in fifteen months. It feels like my whole life’s been bashed in.”

“Eleven years ago, the Frians attacked us with biological weapons. It took more than half of our female population on Swaraan… including my mother and four sisters,” he told her, his eyes slightly distant when she looked over at him. “So my world’s been turned upside down too.”

She didn’t know what to say to this; she felt like something was stuck in her throat and was expanding to the rest of her body. She had felt sick before, but now she felt awkward and uncomfortable.

At least her family wasn’t dead. They were just far away. By now, they probably had gotten used to her absence and were doing fine without her. Her brother had probably come back home from college by now, and was probably even working her share in the garage. They probably went days without thinking of her at all, maybe even weeks.

This didn’t mean that Graham was a nice guy, however, and it certainly didn’t make her want to submit to him. Yet her resolve was beginning to soften. She felt tired and overwhelmed, and she found it very hard to concentrate on anything.

“You look so weary of fighting this,” he finally said, filling the silence. He brought his hand up from her back and scooped the back of her neck, effectively tilting back her head as she looked at him. “Let me take care of you. You don’t have to fear me. I promise you that you’ll feel better afterward.” He stroked her earlobe with his thumb.

She didn’t answer, since her mind was still in turmoil. She couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t aroused. In fact, she had been aroused for so long that she could feel her clit throb with an uncomfortable ache. “No,” she said anyway, as weak as she was. For some reason, she really didn’t want to let him have his way. She didn’t want to be that easy.

He groaned and pulled his arms clear of her, apparently so he could massage his own temples. “You are easily the most stubborn woman in the universe,” he said, his tone getting more snappish as he spoke. He stood up from the bed. “You can’t act like you’re the only one who’s uncomfortable, and that I don’t mean anything at all!”

“Hey—I’m having a really rough day because of you!” she snapped in the same surly tone. “I’m sore, I’m tired, and I have no idea where we are. I’m not going to drop my panties just because you think I owe you something.”

“I do things for you, and you do things for me. That’s how relationships work,” he told her tensely.

“Yeah, between pimps and hookers!” she retorted incredulously. “And I told you—I don’t want a relationship.”

“Too bad!” She thought he sounded particularly pouty, but he was obviously close to tugging out his own hair. “You’ll let Jazeel touch you, but not me?” he then asked, which she felt was a slap in the face. It made her feel cheap; it wasn’t as if she’d ever enjoyed Jazeel touching her. She did it to survive.

She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Jazeel never fucked me. You want to go from the introduction straight to act three! Why would I let you? What makes you so different than Jazeel, anyway?”

Now he was the one who was shaking. Apparently, she had struck a chord, but she couldn’t care less. She stood, even straightened, and awaited a response with eyebrows drawn.

“I am your mate!” he finally spat at her, pointing at the center of his own chest. “You are indispensable to me! I’ll only have one mate my whole life! How dare you compare me to him? He would kill you without a second thought as soon as he tired of you. He would never think of you again. To him, you’re just an animal.”

With the end of his fiery monologue, he began to unbuckle his belt. At first, she tensed, thinking that he planned to use it on her. But then he began to loosen his pants. He looked up at her. “Undress or I will go over there and do it myself.”

She turned her head, choosing not to look his way. She felt like she was in a room with an angry wasp, ready to sting her at any second.

She listened to him pull off his boots. “Do you need my assistance?” he asked, this time merely curtly.

“I’m not—” she said, turning back toward him and ready for another verbal battle. But then the words fell out of her mouth, undelivered, as she gaped at his naked body.

His manhood was mind-boggling. Her brain felt like it was fizzling out at the mere sight. Despite how angry he was—or maybe because he was angry—it was stiff and large. It was also getting to be red and swollen. No wonder he seemed headachy; all his blood was in his cock.

And what a cock it was! She had seen a couple of porns in her day—hell, her cousins were obsessed with them—but she was certain that was still the largest penis she’d seen… Not that she’d seen any penises in person, but this one in front of her simply seemed too big for its purpose.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding exasperated.

She stared at it for a little longer, still feeling transfixed. It was hard to pull her eyes away, and the only way she could was by shutting her eyes tight for a moment. “This…” She put her hand over her eyes. “This argument we’re having is very moot, I gotta tell you.”

“What are you talking about?” he sighed. Apparently her arguments were wearing him out. Now he just expected the worst from her, which was fine by her, but when she took one more glance she could tell that his penis wasn’t tired just yet. She shut her eyes again and kept them shut.

“That—your… thing. It’s not possible.”

“Not possible?” he echoed. “What thing? My… penis?”

“God, Graham! Jesus H. Christ!” For some reason, him saying the word ‘penis’ out loud made things that much more uncomfortable. “Yes. That thing is… It’s not going to work. We’re not compatible, okay? Get it?” She began to walk blindly toward the door hatch. This conversation was over.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he told her. “Of course we’re compatible. I could never have had the Union with anyone who wasn’t compatible, or even if it was dangerous for either of us.”

“You talk about it like it’s a religion, not a freak occurrence. Everything about this is a freak occurrence! I’m human!” she cried, but then her groping hands ran into his naked, slightly hairy torso. She flinched backward and gasped with surprise.

As she gasped, he picked her up into his arms like she was a doll and walked toward the bed. “I’m going to ask you not to be horrible about this. I have looked forward to this moment my entire life, and you’re ruining that first experience for both of us. I’ll go slowly and I won’t hurt you. Can’t you just relax and let yourself enjoy this?” he asked her.

She was struggling, but she stopped for a moment when it finally hit her he was a virgin, too. That made things somehow less frightening. He was easily ten years older than her, at least, and although he wasn’t Prince Charming, he was still as sexy as an underwear model. “I was hoping my first time was going to be with maybe a guy that I had known for more than a day, and who had a nice car, and you know… wasn’t hung quite like a moose.”

She made an ‘oof’ as he dropped her onto the mattress.

“What’s a moose?” he asked, in a tone that meant he expected her to say something hurtful.

“A huge animal with a gigantic—you know, thing.” She braved looking up at him to see if he caught at least some of her worry.

He was staring at her with a face twisted with confusion for a moment before he suddenly grinned boyishly, then gave a laugh. “You think it’s larger than usual, then?” he asked her as he chuckled, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

What he thought was so funny was beyond her imagining. She did know that he was teasing her, now. “Cut it out. It’s terrifying,” she pouted.

“I think you just need to get to know it better,” he told her mischievously, bending over her and putting his lips on hers.

Her first thought was to bite him, and the only reason she didn’t was because of his taste, which was strangely delightful. She had thought so before when they had kissed in the dungeon, but now it felt electric.

He fondled her breast for a moment, then moved his hand down to where her pants were buttoned. She broke the kiss and craned her neck to see what he was doing. He nudged her chin with his nose. “Just don’t look down,” he told her with a smile, then kissed her again on the jaw.

“I’m not your mate,” she breathed, but even though she had strength left, and could fight him—at least she could have tried—she let the electric feeling that she got when he touched her continue. He tugged her pants off of her legs and then kissed a path between her mound and her belly button.

She gripped her fingers through his hair, but she didn’t pull; it was the only thing she could hold onto as every kiss trailed closer and closer to that part of her that throbbed so much. His fingers beat his lips there, circling her inner thighs before spreading her legs and delving into her folds.

She gasped as the tips of his fingers entered her. “Be careful!” she cried, breathing inwardly.

He slowed his exploration nearly to a complete halt, but then kissed her mound and continued, only this time very slowly. “You smell so good,” he breathed, before he put his mouth on her slit, pressing on her swollen clit with his tongue.

“Christ!” she moaned into the open air, tilting her head back over the pillow. She arched her hips up as he tasted her.

“Greedy little girl,” he whispered teasingly against her thigh as his index finger slid into her slick heat. He slowly pressed his finger all the way into her as she writhed in response. “You are so tight,” he said, and then put his mouth back onto her clit as he fucked her with his finger.

“Fuck!” she said only a few seconds later, when her muscles suddenly locked on him and her hips bucked. Her eyes were watering as she thrashed, uncontrolled, around him. He looked up at her from between her legs and then moved up, pulling up her shirt so that it displayed her bare breasts. “You are going to be so utterly spent by the time we’re done, little one,” he said, his voice gravelly as he peeled her shirt over her head and then off.

She felt like she was mesmerized by everything, like a snake by its charmer. She couldn’t stop looking at him. She couldn’t pull away from him. Her body ached to be closer to him. She loved the feel of his body on hers as he settled himself between her legs.

He took one of her breasts into his mouth and flicked his tongue across her nipple. She moaned loudly, melting into his touch. He pet her with one hand, but the other hand, she realized somewhere deep in her cloudy brain, was lining up the mushroom head of his member to her entrance. Her legs were already spread wide just to accommodate his massive body between her thighs, and she was completely open to anything and everything he wanted to do to her.

His lips moved away from her breasts and he held his breath as he pushed himself into her wet heat. She squeaked, already feeling a pinch of discomfort even though he’d barely entered her.

“Relax,” he cooed to her, then lowered his mouth onto hers. He didn’t look very relaxed himself. He looked like he was in agony.

He pushed further into her, one arm keeping his weight off her and the other arm keeping her legs spread apart. When his lips left hers, she moaned loudly. She couldn’t even tell if she loved or hated the intrusion. Her mind was at war, but it was clear as to what side her body was on; it was straining up to meet him of its own accord.

She hoped that he would just continue this slow, gentle motion until he went as far in as he could go, but after a couple of inches, he stopped and looked down at her. “I’m sorry for this,” he said, his expression suddenly serious rather than passionate as he adjusted himself so that one hand was braced beside her head and the other at her waist.

She was confused as to what he was apologizing for; she had never felt more in a haze. “Wh—” she had just begun to ask what he was talking about when he locked his jaw and, gripping her waist and holding her in place, thrust sharply into her.

Her mind went from a battle to a warzone in an instant. She screamed for a second, smacking her hands against his chest to try to push him away. “Take it out! Take it out!” she cried, but after he stayed perfectly still, simply taking her blows, the pain slowly ebbed.

He wiped the tears falling down the side of her face, but until he did that, she didn’t even know her eyes had begun watering. He kissed her nose. “I’m sorry. I know that hurt. That’s the worst part. Give it a moment.”

She had to. Now, the prospect of him moving further in or even back out sounded less than ideal. She wanted to accuse him of lying when he had told her that he wouldn’t hurt her, but he seemed perfectly willing to just stay where he was, and was looking tenderly down on her as he stroked her cheek. “I won’t move until you tell me,” he assured her.

“You don’t fit,” she finally said, her face pinched in a pout.

“You’d probably be saying that if I was a fraction of my size. My finger felt tight in there—not that I mind that, I’m very thankful of it. But this is normal for any girl’s first time. Trust me; we’re instructed all about it,” he assured calmly, not even seeming particularly defensive.

Was it normal? This was news to her; she hadn’t much considered sex. She certainly hadn’t been instructed by anything except television. She hadn’t even gone through Sex Ed. She had quit high school at sixteen to help full-time in the garage, and her cousins and brother, though none of them were virgins, didn’t talk about sex from the female perspective for obvious reasons. Penny was still a virgin, at least technically, and she had been her only confidant. Her mother and aunt were worthless on the issue, and if they had been fine with talking about sex then Ellie would have been the one to feel awkward. She’d felt even at a young age that she was above and beyond that sort of foolishness. Fate couldn’t have chosen a less experienced harem girl.

Now, the pain had nearly completely ebbed. She must have signaled this to him just by adjusting her hips underneath him. He continued kissing her deeply and slowly for full minutes until her hips began to move against him, at which point he began to slowly thrust into her again.

She felt sore, but she didn’t want him to stop. In fact, she knew she would feel empty and upset if he did. She was more emotionally charged than she could remember ever being, and she wasn’t sure if she was on the edge of sobbing without the presence of pain, which she was sure had never happened before, or if she was on the verge of being very happy. She had never known herself worse, and as he thrust deeply, so deeply, inside of her, she felt like a stranger to herself.

What they did was nothing like she’d caught in any of her cousins’ porns, which were always running in their shared room as if the background noise of it calmed them. What they were doing was slow and extremely intimate. Graham’s motions were soft yet meaningful, and she realized that he was savoring this moment.

As his thrusts sped up and her pleasure built inside of her like an overfilled balloon, he began to speak to her. She couldn’t understand him now, because he wasn’t speaking English any longer, and she didn’t know a single word of Swarii. She couldn’t even be sure if he was snapping at her or saying loving things to her. It easily could have been either, but there was a desperate, focused tone to what he was saying, and a roughness as well.

Something within her burst like a dam, and she gripped her fingers into his shoulders above her and screamed. He, in response, thrust harder and faster as she felt herself completely spiraling out of control, then all of his muscles tensed and he gave out a loud, ragged grunt.

She felt his cock jump within her and pulse in her tight sheath, flooding her with a soothing heat. He continued to slowly thrust into her until his length seemed to fit better inside of her, the tightness from his girth replaced with just heat as he softened slightly.

Her brain had gone completely off-line in those moments. A bomb could have exploded right outside the door and she doubted that she would have noticed it. She hadn’t cared who she was, or who he was, or what their stories were, or even what species they were.

Her brain was just beginning to wake up from its spell as he finished panting and kissed her again, hard, after simply saying, “Mine.”

Her mind had cleared, she realized. It wasn’t foggy, she could think of other things besides how sore her loins were, and she wasn’t even feverish. Actually, the spaceship was quite cold, and Graham’s body heat alone was keeping her from shivering.

When Graham had said ‘mine,’ he’d meant it. She wasn’t herself anymore. She was no longer Ellie Jonas. That had been taken away from her even though she’d kept her name and identity even through slavery. Now, she was Eleanor Masterson, mate of Graham Masterson, and that was just a fact. There was no doubt in her body or mind now that they were mated. Her body was humming with happiness now, while her mind was dealing with this extreme change that it could not deny. As Graham had promised, sex with him had actually made her feel better, against all reason and logic, and she was now able to conceive the reason that it did was because something within her had been triggered to be attracted to her mate.

The problem was she still didn’t want to be mated. Her old self was still in there somewhere, screaming for her independence, reminding her that she didn’t know the guy next to her at all, and even if she did, she probably still wouldn’t want to be mated to him or anyone else.

She didn’t want to go from one master to another. She wanted freedom, which seemed even further away now than it had at the palace. This man was not as easy to fool as Jazeel, and chances were that he was going to expect things from her and she would be required to actually care.

“Eleanor?” He slowly pulled his length from her, leaving her body bereft of that heat. He knelt between her legs and fell back on his haunches before picking her up and pulling her against his warm body. “Eleanor, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

She sniffled, feeling like everything was collapsing around her. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ‘alright’ again.