This time as we set out on Valoryx, Fafnir keeps a massive forearm banded across my waist. Well, kind of waist. The thing takes up my entire stomach and rests just beneath my breasts. I’m pulled flush against his chest, tucked in deep to the wall of a male so tightly the bitter wind barely touches me. This time before we set out, he’d shoved some kind of cosmetic cream in my hands, at first I’d thought to be offended, considered lobbing it back at him, but he’d explained it was to keep my cheeks from getting chapped, and that goofy warm feeling took over again.
It appears I’m at least moderately fond of the giant brute. He’s… thoughtful and sweet. Although I’ll have to explain to him later, I can’t eat pizza for every meal. Even I’d tire of that eventually. He’d all but gagged when I offered him a bite, apparently content with whatever unfortunate looking dehydrated rations bar he’d produced. Even the tinge of sadness I felt when I thought about Mom and my sisters seemed balmed for the time being at least as he rode through the open fields.
He had, in fact, gone through the trouble of having more traditional Bhaurnul-style clothing made for me. A lot, actually. Mixed with lavishly made human options as well. My mouth had all but dropped open when he’d opened the sky-high wardrobe in the bedroom, filled with things for me. I hadn’t been able to reach anything, but he was patient, showing me each piece and letting me pick and choose. His brow was furrowing so deeply, I’d thought to jerk him down by the horns and smooth my thumb over the deep crease. I doubt that’d go over well, though.
Apparently, Bhaurnul women are far from modest. Making his pajama choice last night make more sense. I’d gawked at the spring and summer options, finding most of them to be no more than animal skin lingerie. Suddenly incredibly grateful I’d come right before winter took hold. We can work up to those. I can’t fathom they’ll look very sexy on me when I’m heavily pregnant with a giant baby, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I wiggle and squirm, making another growl sound from above me. “Loosen the seatbelt Fafnir, I’m not going to fall.”
“You did fall.”
“Yes, because I wasn’t holding on.” I squirm some more, fighting for even an inch until Fafnir’s warm breath tickles my chilled cheek.
“Female, I must insist you cease moving like that.”
My eyes widen as my body goes deathly still. The steel press of his cocks against my back makes a tremble break out over my body that has little to do with the cold. My mind wanders for a moment. It’s only natural to be curious, right? Soon enough, we’ll be well acquainted. I shift back, just an inch, just until he stiffens further, his fists whitening on the reins. The heat coming from them is enough to make me melt. If the warmth is any indication, I bet they’d be ruddy with need.
For me.
My cheeks flame, a shit-eating smile plastered on my face. I don’t bother hiding it, wiggling again before something that sounds like a stifled groan leaves him before he loosens his hold, finally allowing me to lean forward.
I purse my lips for only a moment before I sink my fingers into Valoryx’s long, blue tipped mane. My dull, dark blue gloved fingers look so pretty next to the vibrant color in his fur, reveling in the warmth and the deep, resonant purr that comes from the beast.
Just like Old Earth cats.
Just bigger and scarier.
Way scarier.
My eyes dart to Fafnir’s hand as it comes back, not to hold per se but to rest on the swell of my hip as a group of Bhaurnul males race past us, doing some kind of terrifying war cry in greeting. There’s something so… possessive about the action, my thoughts are made of pure mud by the time we finally reach our destination.
My hands pass through Valoryx’s mane, forgoing the brush for the tiny knots and tangles, although I doubt some tugging would bother the large animal. Not for the first time since we arrived hours ago, my attention slips to Fafnir. Watching the expert way he handles the majestic nightmare beasts. Apparently, their economy thrives off of something called war contracts, essentially pay-to-play soldiers. It’s mandatory, like Old Earth drafts toward the end. Every fit male must serve at least a three-year contract, if they survive it… which typically they don’t. When it’d asked him how long he’d served before he decided to become something of a beast tamer, he’d ruffed out something that sounded like a “for too long” then decided that, or any conversation, was over.
I’d tried to help him with the others, but the giant lizard kitty underneath me hadn’t taken too kindly to that. Every time I’d approach them, he’d kick up quite the fuss. Snarling and swiping his paws at the offending party.
Attention hog.
So, we were exiled by a very annoyed Fafnir, grumping something about the fact that he should’ve left me home. He hadn’t asked for my help in caring for Valoryx, or the others, but idle hands make for wandering minds. I’ve got far too much my mind could wander on and none that would do me even a bit of good. I’ve wiped down his hardened scales, brushed his mane and dotted on him like any good attendant at a space port spa would.
The terror has been sprawled out, lounging in the sun since we started. Dozing here and there, but always alert, always watching. Much like his master.
Their heads live on a swivel, and I can’t blame them for it.
Mandatory war sounds… horrific.
I know first-hand the things one’s mind can subject you to. My chest seems to clinch in on itself when the memories of that night flood in on me. The way my sister’s screams had echoed for miles. He hadn’t meant for it to go that way. Dad would’ve never—
My sister wasn’t supposed to see that, but she did either way. Cammi hasn’t been the same since. She needs help… the kind that costs money. A lot of it. A groan leaves me as I clamber off Valoryx, forcing my mind elsewhere. My thighs aching from straddling him for so long, but all that’s left is the fur on the underside of his mane, near his chest, then the cleansing bucket filled with some kind of mild smelling soap for his face.
I get the feeling this isn’t something that’s done daily, but more something to occupy me now that his beast has decided I can’t be useful anywhere else.
“Valoryx up,” I command.
Waiting.
The damn thing doesn’t move.
I scowl, walking around as he tracks me with lazy crimson and golden slitted eyes. Bracing my hands on his side, I try to shove him over. But yeah, obviously, that’s not going to work. His tail flicks at me as if to shoo me away, but I swat at it. Hiking a brow when his lips pull in a silent, lazy snarl. It’s incredibly illogical how comfortable and safe I feel with him compared to just yesterday. I’d done something right on that ride, perhaps too right considering the way he’s begun hoarding me like his favorite servant. My eyes peek at Fafnir again, watching the toned expanse of his brawny arms as he runs another Sihlih through a set of commands and drills.
I point at them, getting closer to Valoryx’s face. “See that? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Giving his up command a few more times with only mild amusement in response has my irritation simmering dangerously close to anger. Cursing him out feels nice, but he doesn’t know what I’m saying, so it’s not super satisfying. I try to wrap my arms around his neck to haul him up myself; my hands don’t even come close to touching, so I can’t lift his head.
Not that I could either way, but he and I both are past being reasoned with.
He gently swats his paw toward my back as I turn, knocking me forward enough to stumble before he shakes his mane out, giving a giant yawn. “War beast, my ass.” I grit between my teeth, searching the clearing and eyeing the enclosed training building toward the area where Fafnir is working with the others, when an idea pops into my mind.
“Fine, if you won’t listen, I’ll go back to the group.” I offer, not getting more than a few steps away before his thick barbed tail edges ever so carefully out.
I ignore it.
Until he swipes hard, taking my feet out front underneath me. My breath is knocked from my chest, and my cheeks flame bright, already feeling Fafnir’s no doubt highly annoyed stare. It’s his damn mount that’s acting like a moody teenager! Another slurry of foul words leave my lips as I shove myself up, stalking back toward Valoryx. He watches me, ensuring he keeps his head down and not give me what I want. I brace my back on his side, my feet planted on my ground as I push, holding my breath from the strain of it. So focused on just getting him to move an inch, it takes my brain precious seconds to catch up when the brick wall I’m trying to shove over simply gives.
My back collides with the ground, making me hiss in pain, my bruised tailbone throbbing. It’s not until a mountainous eclipse blots out the sun that I wrench my eyes open.
“What have you done to my mount?” Fafnir accuses, his eyes glued to my sprawled form beneath him.
“What have I done?” I all but screech, pointing to my chest for dramatic effect. It feels good to have big feelings and get loud.
He rears back, his long hair plaited, slapping at the brand on his chest. “He’s being willfully disobedient. I raised him myself from a pup, fought with him for sixteen years and never, not once—’
“Sounds like poor training,” I interrupt. My eyes widening when that odd red color blooms in his eyes, flooding and warring with the deep brown.
I don’t get a second to rehash my own words before I’m hauled off the ground and slung over the shoulder of Fafnir, a move he seems to enjoy as he plants a rough, dirty palm over the back of my thigh, squeezing a little harder than he needs to. It’s everything I have not to squirm as I’m roughly deposited on the back of Valoryx. Instinctually, I lean up, gripping onto his mane as he purrs his approval.
“Poor training.” Fafnir spits, and it’s clear I’ve struck a nerve. I almost feel bad, but the trepidation I’m feeling at his erratic behavior takes a backseat to the mouthwatering spectacle of pure male aggression. He jerks his thick fingers into his hair, his muscles bunching as he stalks toward an open spot in the field away from us. When he turns, his eyes find mine. My core tightens unbidden, making me dig my teeth into my lip.
“Hold him roughly,” he orders, and my heart jolts in my chest, digging my fingers in harder, deeper, so much so I worry they’ll need to be cut out.
I’m panting, my breath rougher than it was moments ago as he darts further out, moving every bit as fast as the beast I’m on. His strong equestrian legs, all power and corded muscle. When he stops, his back is to me, to all of us, and it’s only then that I notice they’re watching.
All the Sihlih gather around me in a V formation as he barks commands. When he lifts his arm, the entire field goes still, me included. He turns, looking over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine. The slightest smirk on his bowed lips does ungodly things to my insides before he gives the line of predators his back again.
The command that comes next is more vocalization than words. I barely hear the end of it as a scream rips from my throat. The line of Sihlih rushes forward, snarling and foaming with their attack.
And it is an attack.
One that he aimed toward himself.
“Stop!” I scream, jerking back on Valoryx’s mane as if it’ll do anything to stop him, to stop any of them. We’re on him in seconds that seem to stretch a lifetime as I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, just as another short, barked command rises above the snarling.
I lurch forward at the sudden stop so violently that I crash into Valoryx’s wide neck. My breath leaving me in choked pants.
“Open your eyes, little female.”
I do, the sound of his gravelly voice swiping over my frayed nerves like warm water over chilled skin. My mouth gapes. The silly, willful Valoryx’s teeth are latched onto his master’s shoulder.
A strange, violent snapping occurs in my chest. “Fafnir!” I try to move to scramble off, but then I look closer.
His teeth pierce but… only just like the tip of a needle, and he’s panting, holding his pose. My head snaps around in horror to find they all are. The beasts stopped a blink away from delivering a fatal blow. All in perfect unison. The gravity of it has me slipping my shaky hands from his mane. “Okay, you made your point.” I spit out, feigning anger because it’s the only thing that makes sense, despite not feeling a lick of it.
I’m panicked, shaky, and… who the fuck knows? Fafnir barks another command. The beasts stop their eerie, paused attack, all returning to their casual lounging like their master hadn’t just commanded them to kill him. Like they hadn’t been prepared to do so without hesitation. When I look up from the scaled back of Valoryx, it’s not of my own volition. My pulse whooshes in my ears as the sharp prick of something blooms under my chin. My attention snaps up, but I don’t dare move a muscle. Fafnir’s long pointed horn is poised under my chin, his swirling eyes tilting up under dark gray lashes to meet mine. An elongated furry ear flicks. His hair mussed and hanging in his face with such devout hunger, I have to fight the urge to squirm. “We are less than forty-eight Zentics in, and already you disrupt the very core of me, Valkyra.”
My nipples grow hard and chafing under the thick hide tunic.
“I am not a gentle male, Lenora. I do not train gentle house pets. The beast you sit upon has killed and maimed nearly as many as his master. While I admire his obvious affections for you, you would do well to remember what we are.”
We.
What we are.
“Neither of you will hurt me.” I breathe out, shaken by the surety in my voice. My hand acting of its own accord as I palm his antler. Something about the action feels… dirty, sacred, like I shouldn’t be gripping him here, but I don’t let go. Fafnir’s eyes widen as I direct it away from my chin. Moving my head back as I gently tug him closer to me, rubbing my thumb over the ivory rings of his tanned horns. He’s a hairsbreadth away from me, and my entire body lights, watching as his eyes swirl and battle.
I don’t breathe as he lifts me from the beast, letting my flushed skin make a slow path down his body. I hang onto his horn until I can’t any longer, until my fingers slip free, and I watch the terrifying, berserker alien… shudder.
“Come Lenora, that’s enough for today.”
I try to agree, but nothing comes, my eyes lingering on the huge bulge tenting behind his loincloth as he turns and stalks back toward the Sihlih grounds where most of the mounts have slinked back. Save for Valoryx, who seems content to walk at a slothful pace beside me.
Fafnir said he fought for sixteen years. My breath heaves out of me in a failed attempt to calm and strengthen my shaky legs.
They only require three.
