lunged to the
right, squeezing past him. He spun quickly, grabbing her from
behind. His powerful arms closed around her upper body, pinioning
her arms to her sides. The lush curves of her behind rested in the
cradle of his hips, and she could feel the hard ridge of his
aroused cock. She fought the urge to press back against him, to
feel his hardness sliding against her flesh. Her body might be out
of her control, she thought, but her mind wasn’t. She renewed her
struggles, but in the steely band of his arms, they were
futile.
In spite of the strength of his hold, he
wasn’t hurting her. Even in her fear, she acknowledged that.
Against her ear, he said, “I will not harm you, Wren Marlow, but
you must come with me now.”
Wren didn’t respond. Her eyes were drawn to
the door of the café which had just opened. Three men walked
inside, their hands covered in leather gloves and the dark hoods of
their sweatshirts pulled up, casting dark shadows over their faces.
Dread filled her, spreading icy tentacles through her body. The man
in the center reached up, pushing back his hood, and what he
revealed elicited a scream of pure terror from her. She knew those
faces. They had haunted her dreams for her entire life.
Rather than flesh, he was covered in scales,
ranging in shades of gray and black. The structure of his face was
vaguely feline, with a wide forehead, narrow chin, and broad, high
cheekbones. His eyes were red, with elongated black pupils,
shielded by nictating lenses. Those strange eyes slashed sharply
upwards at the end, giving the appearance that his face was twisted
in a macabre grin. He opened his small mouth, emitting a wet hiss
and revealing double rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
“She is ours, Kyr,” he rasped.
The man holding her didn’t respond. He simply
clasped her tighter against him, and pressed his thumb against an
intricate emblem on the leather cuff at his wrist. Blackness
swirled about them, and the world simply fell away. Wren felt as if
she were spiraling into nothingness. She tried to scream, but no
sound emerged from her throat as she was sucked into the void.
Had he been alone, Kyr would have faced the
Aldacyians. His need for violence, to release the frustration that
had plagued him had been at war with his higher intellect. He knew
that the three Aldacyian trackers were only the first wave. More
would come. His object wasn’t to defeat them, but to protect the
woman. With that in mind, he had opted for transport.
Within moments of activating the transport
command, they were aboard the small ship that had brought him to
her world. Kyr placed her unconscious form on one of the narrow
berths that lined the main cabin. His eyes traveled over her body,
mapping the generous curves of her breasts and hips, the length of
her legs. Her thoughts had been clear to him the moment he had
gotten close to her. The visions she’d had of their bodies joined
had created a firestorm of lust in him. Unable to stop himself, he
leaned forward, his callused fingers tracing the delicate contours
of her face, before tangling in the rich, auburn curls that tumbled
over her shoulders. She sighed, and his mouth closed over hers,
testing the softness of her full lips, savoring the sweet taste of
her. Reluctantly, he pulled back, forcing himself to focus on the
tasks at hand. He had a ship to pilot, and she would sleep for a
bit longer, an after effect of demolecurization.
While teleportation was something he had
grown accustomed to during his years as a Sentinel, he could
remember the physical misery that had followed it the first time.
She would be nauseous and her head would ache. There was no time to
see to her, however. Though the ship was veiled, it would not take
long for the Aldacyians to locate them. With that thought in mind,
he moved to the command center and began the ignition sequence.
There was a low hum as the engines started. Within seconds, the
ship was rocketing towards the surface of the small
right, squeezing past him. He spun quickly, grabbing her from
behind. His powerful arms closed around her upper body, pinioning
her arms to her sides. The lush curves of her behind rested in the
cradle of his hips, and she could feel the hard ridge of his
aroused cock. She fought the urge to press back against him, to
feel his hardness sliding against her flesh. Her body might be out
of her control, she thought, but her mind wasn’t. She renewed her
struggles, but in the steely band of his arms, they were
futile.
In spite of the strength of his hold, he
wasn’t hurting her. Even in her fear, she acknowledged that.
Against her ear, he said, “I will not harm you, Wren Marlow, but
you must come with me now.”
Wren didn’t respond. Her eyes were drawn to
the door of the café which had just opened. Three men walked
inside, their hands covered in leather gloves and the dark hoods of
their sweatshirts pulled up, casting dark shadows over their faces.
Dread filled her, spreading icy tentacles through her body. The man
in the center reached up, pushing back his hood, and what he
revealed elicited a scream of pure terror from her. She knew those
faces. They had haunted her dreams for her entire life.
Rather than flesh, he was covered in scales,
ranging in shades of gray and black. The structure of his face was
vaguely feline, with a wide forehead, narrow chin, and broad, high
cheekbones. His eyes were red, with elongated black pupils,
shielded by nictating lenses. Those strange eyes slashed sharply
upwards at the end, giving the appearance that his face was twisted
in a macabre grin. He opened his small mouth, emitting a wet hiss
and revealing double rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
“She is ours, Kyr,” he rasped.
The man holding her didn’t respond. He simply
clasped her tighter against him, and pressed his thumb against an
intricate emblem on the leather cuff at his wrist. Blackness
swirled about them, and the world simply fell away. Wren felt as if
she were spiraling into nothingness. She tried to scream, but no
sound emerged from her throat as she was sucked into the void.
Had he been alone, Kyr would have faced the
Aldacyians. His need for violence, to release the frustration that
had plagued him had been at war with his higher intellect. He knew
that the three Aldacyian trackers were only the first wave. More
would come. His object wasn’t to defeat them, but to protect the
woman. With that in mind, he had opted for transport.
Within moments of activating the transport
command, they were aboard the small ship that had brought him to
her world. Kyr placed her unconscious form on one of the narrow
berths that lined the main cabin. His eyes traveled over her body,
mapping the generous curves of her breasts and hips, the length of
her legs. Her thoughts had been clear to him the moment he had
gotten close to her. The visions she’d had of their bodies joined
had created a firestorm of lust in him. Unable to stop himself, he
leaned forward, his callused fingers tracing the delicate contours
of her face, before tangling in the rich, auburn curls that tumbled
over her shoulders. She sighed, and his mouth closed over hers,
testing the softness of her full lips, savoring the sweet taste of
her. Reluctantly, he pulled back, forcing himself to focus on the
tasks at hand. He had a ship to pilot, and she would sleep for a
bit longer, an after effect of demolecurization.
While teleportation was something he had
grown accustomed to during his years as a Sentinel, he could
remember the physical misery that had followed it the first time.
She would be nauseous and her head would ache. There was no time to
see to her, however. Though the ship was veiled, it would not take
long for the Aldacyians to locate them. With that thought in mind,
he moved to the command center and began the ignition sequence.
There was a low hum as the engines started. Within seconds, the
ship was rocketing towards the surface of the small
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