The fabric tore easily under Valdus’s grip.

After two years imaging every twisted act of revenge, it was hard to believe his enemy’s most prized possession was wriggling in his grasp. Harder still to accept he’d finally found the means to save his men after so many dead ends.

His need for sleep and food had vanished the moment she’d appeared.

“No!” The breeder fought like a wild animal, her full breast and hips grinding against him, each perfect curve smacking against his flesh in a twisted parody of sex. The scent of woman and honeyed rhozeberries tumbled down his lungs, disorienting after years of feeling nothing at all.

The urge to rut hit hard. To hold her down in the dirt. Spread those forbidden thighs wide and show her who was in charge. To be exactly the beast her kind had called him at his trial.

He forced himself to take shallow breaths. Locked that shit down.

Because he wasn’t like those feral things at the transport hold, raping and killing, too far gone to care whether they lived or died by droid fire or their fellow inmates’ hands.

No, he was still the commander. Self-controlled. Deliberate. Disciplined.

And what he needed now was the cold, merciless distance that had kept him and his men alive thus far.

“Calm down.” Readjusting his one-handed grip, he used his teeth and free hand to tear her sleeve into six long strips—and barely missed getting kneed in the balls.

“I won’t submit to you.” Her shout, loud enough to attract outside attention, rang in his ear.

He slapped his hand over her made-for-sex mouth. “You’ll do whatever I want.”

Just as she’d done for Hollisworth.

She’d been a stunning, shiny ornament at his trial.

Bride and breeder number five.

Her long blonde hair falling in shiny, healthy waves down her back. Her modest, expensive gown hinting at every lush curve beneath, a stark contrast to the too-thin, hungry look of his barrack-mates and friends. Her creamy skin and wide, unusual emerald eyes absent of the lines of suffering that marked his kind. Each mouthwatering, perfect, unattainable piece of her an invitation to a grunt like him to drag her down, dirty her up, debase her just a little bit.

But she didn’t look so perfect or docile now.

Her hair was darker, streaked with fake dye, and wild. Unkempt. Strands sticking to her skin. Her cheeks flushed. Her curve-hugging uniform torn in a hundred places. Her extraordinary eyes bright with fury and defiance.

Somehow, she was more magnificent.

Which only pissed him off more.

“You don’t have say in what happens next,” he growled, his dick pulsing hard against her stomach as if refusing to obey him, too. “But to save time, I’ll make it clear. I’ve no interest in garden-variety rape.”

Her gaze flickered from his face to her torn sleeve, her warm puffs of breath skimming across his skin.

The assessing intelligence in her gaze unsettled him. Then, a muffled sound of surrender issued from behind his hand, the slid of those pouty, warm lips across his skin sending a jolt of electricity down his palm, and his thoughts turned elsewhere.

He took his time moving his hand away.

Showing any kind of weakness wasn’t good. Especially down here.

Her tongue darted out to wet the lips he’d just freed. He muffled a groan.

“Why should I believe you?”

Valid question. “We’ve got less than two metrals until news of your arrival spreads. We need out of this sector now.”

“Or what? You’ll have to leave me behind?” In the sudden upward tilt of her eyes he saw her making plans.

“Don’t even think it.” He rewrapped his hand around the delicate column of her throat. “There is no escape from me. No part of this maze I won’t find you. Nothing I won’t do to keep you under my thumb.”

Because despite an overwhelming desire to see this particular female dead, keeping her alive had just become his number one priority.

At least for the short term.

“No.” Protesting, she twisted beneath him, her neck arcing upward, and this time…holy Saturn moons, his cock snapped to full attention because, for an insane instant, her outcry sounded a hell of a lot like a low, needy moan.

It was a melody he’d heard plenty when he’d been an Academy soldier, too young and dumb to notice the dust choking his kind’s lungs. His only concerns then had been raising hell with his teammates and fucking whatever willing women he met.

He shook his head to clear away the memories—and the sharp tug of foolish longing for a selfish, irresponsible time that could never be again.

Instead, he forced himself to think of Winslow, Vega, Beckett, Bishop…

All good men. All his responsibility. All barrack-mates and loyal team members who’d followed him and joined the Resistance. All friends who’d listened to his insistence that they couldn’t continue to do nothing while their kind suffered under the thumb of tyrants.

All now dead. Their final view bleak, barren Dragath red rock.

Just like that, his monster hard-on disappeared—and hard, cold focus returned.

“Don’t try and fuck with me, breeder. You won’t like the outcome.”

“There are people looking for me.” As if she sensed his growing rage, her voice grew shakier. “For me and the soldier you spoke with in the transport hold. I wasn’t lying about that, either. If you don’t want my help with the trackers, at least take me to them. The head of the mission has influence. He can help you escape.”

He saw red. As if anyone of her kind would ever stick his neck out for a Dragath criminal. “No one is taking you from me. If anyone tries, I’ll kill them.”

Grass green eyes went wide. “Some of my crew are scientists. Non-Council soldiers. You…you can’t just take their lives.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do.” Shaking loose one of the strips of fabric from his knuckle, he looped it around her wrists.

It took her less than an instant to register the tatters of her own uniform tightening against her skin, binding her arms from wrist to forearm.

“No.” She reared back, strong for one so tiny. “I…I don’t like to be tied up.”

“We both know that doesn’t count for much.”

He couldn’t keep carting her around over his shoulder. He’d need both hands to keep them alive. And all her damn wiggling and fighting, her perfect heart-shaped ass inches from his mouth, it was…distracting.

Chipping away at time he didn’t have.

Because once break ended and shift work began, it would be more than twelve hours before he’d be allowed another rest. More than twelve hours before he’d be able to put his plan into effect again.

And his chances of keeping this female alive for that length of time weren’t good.

If he was going to use her as he intended, it had to happen soon.

“You think you’ve won,” she rasped, “but you haven’t.”

Fury flared in her gaze. For some messed up reason, he preferred it over the fear.

“I’m nowhere close to winning yet, but it’s good to be back in the game.” Moving quickly, he used his teeth to tie off the knot. “I’ve left your hands tied in front. Give me any problems and I’ll retie them in the back.”

Wrapping a hand around her upper arm, he hauled her to her feet, refusing to notice the way she trembled, or how delicate the bones felt beneath his palm. Instead, he forced his gaze to the strip of fabric still around his knuckle. “There’s always the option of hobbling your legs,” he cautioned. “Your choice.”

“My choice?” Her laugh had no humor, but she did stop pulling against the bind. “My ability to choose was lost long ago.”

His brows pulled low over his forehead. More lies and a bid for sympathy?

After her disappearance, the rumors had spread like crowfoot weeds, tunneling down so far and fast they’d even reached down here. Some said she’d been stolen by a rival Councilman who’d wanted to impregnate her himself. Others insisted it was his brothers in the Resistance, intent on defiling her and striking a blow against Council repopulation efforts one new Council bride at a time. Finally, while not as loud or frequent, there were whispers that she’d run, stealing away herself and dealing the all-powerful head of New Earth his one and only defeat.

Seeing her now, the top of her head barely brushing his chin, he doubted the last more than ever.

But how she’d come to be here didn’t really matter. Only that she was.

Because now she belonged to him.

“We can’t wait any longer.” The buzz of an approaching drone was growing louder. “We need to get out of the neutral zone now.”

The last time a woman had been snatched from the surface had been intervals ago. She’d survived thirty metrals.

Another few twists and knots—the rapid flutter of his captive’s breath across his skin making his fingers clumsier than they should have been—and he’d made a short tether connecting her bound wrists to the strongest weapon loophole around his waist.

She’d be coming with him, with or without her cooperation.

“Prepare yourself.” Turning to the entrance, the tether slid into place, her bound wrists only a few hands length from his spine.

“Wait.” He barely felt the tug as she dug in her heels, but the fear and bravado in her voice was harder to ignore. “If it’s not death or rape you’re after…how…how exactly are you planning to use me?”

Another unwelcome bolt of lust shot through him. Her refusal to be cowed impressing him, even as it baited the beast in him to respond.

Which is probably why he gave her the truth. “You’re bait.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.” No mercy, he reminded himself. That’s who he was. How he and his remaining men survived.

Twisting, he loomed over her once more. “This Council prison camp is a fortress, buried under thousands of pounds of hard rock, guarded by drones and lasers at all potential exits, including the transport hold. We are required to work three quarters of a full Dragath rotation and allowed only a brief period to rest and eat before being called to work again. It’s a backbreaking, hellish existence and the only way out is death.” He gave a deliberate pause. “Until now.”

“No.” She stumbled back, only to be pulled up short by his bind.

“Yes.” The long-forgotten tang of hope tasted sweet on his tongue. “Once your precious husband knows you’re here, he’ll do whatever it takes to reacquire you—Whatever. It. Takes.”

“He’s not my anything. I hate him.”

So sincere. Maybe the rumor of her running away was true, after all.

Not that it mattered.

He took a menacing step closer. “That’s not what he thinks about you though, is it?”

The widening of her emerald eyes told him everything.

“Exactly. Hate him, love him. He’ll come for you no matter what.” Valdus’s fists clenched, his adrenaline spiking. “And I’ll be ready.”

Hollisworth’s thumbprint was the key to overriding the transport hold and returning to the surface. Valdus knew because the bastard had told him so—right before making a point of saying he’d never lift a finger to get him and his men out.

But that was about to change. Because once Valdus drew the bastard to the mines, he and his men would have the advantage. They knew every hiding place. Every ambush point. They knew where the drones were vulnerable to attack and where the caves narrowed, making it impossible to use high-powered lasers. The labyrinth itself would become their greatest weapon. They’d take on Hollisworth and his soldiers and, though they’d be outnumbered and wielding cruder weapons, they would win.

Despite his declaration, Hollisworth would be lifting a finger to aid their escape—with or without it attached to the rest of him.

All thanks to the breeder who would serve as bait.

Turning back around, Valdus took a few steps forward—gratified to feel the tug of the rope as the key to his escape staggered behind him.

No room for distractions. No space for emotion of any kind, he reminded himself.

The completion of his plan and the survival of his remaining men depended on it.

“You’ll want to stay alert.” With renewed determination, he slammed his face mask into place. “If the other inmates catch us, you’ll be dead before your adoring husband’s shuttle touches down.”