There’d be no detached, efficient breeding and months’ worth of solitude. No harem full of Hathorian females to share the burden and no soothing hands or watchful matrons.
She’d be lucky if she weren’t fucked to death by a horde of desperate Anhur males.
No, she was trapped out here on the edge, her scent screaming of fertility, thighs tacky with slick. But was she doomed to submit to the first males lucky enough to stumble across her? Or… or could she make something of herself that was more than a sex slave and breeder?
Something that could thrive in the wilds… something like Samina…
Glimmering overhead, the moons peaked between the clouds. A gust of heated summer wind held whispered hints of what she needed, thick with the scent she craved. What it would take to end her torment.
Males.
Distant, yet. But there all the same.
Her pelvic muscles screamed and ached, begging to be stretched beyond all reasonable limits.
Once her heat settled in, all else would be pushed out. All but the need for teeth and seed. Pummeling hips.
Hadim’s knot.
Taking a breath, she threw back her head and howled at the three moons hanging ever-present and low on the horizon. Fury bristling, silky black hair whipped about her face as she screamed her angst into the evening chill. Howled until her voice splintered and broke, until her breath came on a gasp and some of the fervor abated.
If she wanted to retain some semblance of sanity, she’dhaveto find a male. She’d have to sort through these rejects and monsters and find one capable of seeing her through a brutal heat. One that she could discard just as easily, while she searched the wilds for enough yarrow root to keep her womb in pristine condition.
Decision made, she gathered her supplies, and with only a moment’s hesitation, retrieved her shoddy wooden cock.
Just in case.
***
Flushed with renewed purpose, she turned her nose into the breeze. Searching for the hint of wet vegetation that would indicate a water source, for if there were males to be found, it would be by the water.
She didn’t have to search long.
It was a modest creek. One without a great deal of volume, perhaps, but sweet enough to drink even if it carried a hint of sulfur.
She dipped her hands then pressed them to her nape, trying to cool herself. And it was then, as she knelt by the edge staring at her reflection, that she recalled faded blue eyes. That to soak in cool water was to soothe the ache of a heat denied.
Fully clothed, she waded into the stream. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, for this was usually a risk she didn’t take. Washing away the stench of the dead was a foolish luxury she could ill afford.
Survival this long in the wilds beyond the crust depended on her ability to suffer. To endure without adequate hygiene, knowing she would never be able to build a shelter by a ready supply of water, for if there was ease to be had out here in the beyond? It was a locale worth fighting over. Drawing in desperate males from every caste.
And draw them in, she would.
A hint of warmth twisted around her fingers. Even through her sodden leathers, she felt it kiss the flesh of her thighs and knew she’d found the place to set her trap.
Hot water that stank of sulfur? In the beyond, that meant only one thing—this stream was fed by a thermal vent.
Grinning now, she trudged through the water. Splashing and careless, she followed the creek north until she came to a fork. The main current split right, but the left climbed toward a clearing in the dense forest, and it washot.
She scrambled over the bank and found the clearing to be flat red stone with no ground cover. What must have been an ancient riverbed, it had been worn but wasn’t smooth, and she could see where eddies had carved swirling circles into the surface. Where the layers of sediment that had settled over thousands of years had solidified. And, boots slapping against the wet, red stone, she jogged toward the source of hot water. Eyes flicking around the barren landscape ringed by trees.
A series of three hot springs, each on their own stone ledge. The uppermost pool drained into the bottom two, connecting them all to the main creek below. Careful, feeling her heat return as her temperature rose, she picked her way to the top. Dipping her fingers in each pool as she passed, she found them warm and deep. It all came from the largest pool, where a small underground stream met the surface. A heated stream that had once been vigorous enough to carve a cave from solid granite.
Hesitating, ears pricked and straining for any hint that the cave might be occupied, she froze at the entrance. Hearing not so much as a hint of life, she picked up a rock and tossed it into the dark. Ready to flee.
But when nothing came roaring into the light, she grinned. Absently rubbing at her cleft through the leather.
It was perfect, really. A secluded niche where she could rut with her chosen males until they were spent and drained. Far enough away from their camp to afford her a little privacy, she could trap them onherterms.
