But the wonder of seeing her first Hathorian male paled in comparison to the absurdity of an Anhur miming kindness. How could Sickle stomach the Alpha’s touch?
Baffled by such an outlandish notion, she crept closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the Alpha’s face so she could see what kind of monster she’d found in the wood. What brand of cruelty he offered Sickle in exchange for a smile likethat?
The rest of the pack began to gather around the fire, not one among them seeming to roll over for this Alpha who ate and lounged with peasants.
“Who’s on guard tonight?” the Alpha asked, his mane on full display where it traced the top third of his spine.. Relaxed and at ease. Elbows on knees, leaning forward in a position the girl knew well—it allowed one to sit without bothering an amputation site.
“Keever and Konjo,” the other Anhur replied, and took a long drink from a patchy water skin. His throat bobbing around each swallow.
But when the Alpha yawned and said, “Take Sickle with you. He’s an asset,” the other Anhur barked out a laugh.
“What’s he going to do if they run across one of the infected, huh? Offer to make it pretty with a bit of fire ash?”
Sickle’s demeanor grew sharp, his grin displaying pointed, intact teeth. It was a thing she’d only ever heard spoken of in reference to the procedure all female harem slaves went through. Filing the canines flat and blunt to protect their Anhur masters from damage during the rut.
To take away their only natural defense and turn it into just another hole to be used. She ran her tongue over the smooth line of her teeth, her heart squelching painfully against her ribs.
It was the Alpha’s turn to laugh, and he clapped Sickle’s nape as he did so—then shifted into her line of sight.
The left side of his face shown in a shaft of flickering fire light.
Hadim.
He was here.
Right in front of her.
Come to collect his runaway slave.
And she was out of time, out of options, for with one glance she succumbed. Her body reacting to the memory of her master, of his knot as it filled and soothed. Spurting and kicking against that final gate, painting her cervix white with his thick, Anhur cream.
Muscles quivering in a fine shiver, she fought to remain still. Hidden. To deny the pull she felt to go to him. To take her punishment as she was meant and please the male who could make it all better…
Blunt teeth bared, her eyes snapped open. Ears twitched flat against her skull, hidden deep inside her cloak.
No.
She would suffer alone. Throw herself to the mercy of feral monsters and be torn apart, consumed alive before she ever allowed Hadim to touch her again.
No matter the danger, she retreated. Eyes fixed to the pack, ears leveled out, she strained for any hint that she’d been discovered. Any hiccup in their low conversation that might warn her to pause, her breath held as terror pounded through her veins, for beneath her cloak of putrid rot, she was naked.
Vulnerable.
“We’ll continue the hunt at first light,” the Alpha said, then stood in one fluid motion. Turned and stepped over a fallen log. Moving toward her with sure, easy steps.
She froze.
Belly flat in the detritus, she dared only watch his approaching boots. Terrified to glance up, as if that would improve her chances of evasion.
He stopped at the forest’s edge, uttered a clipped huff, and the whisper of laces through leather swished above her. A deep, masculine sigh and water splashed just beyond where she lay prone in the dirt.
Urine.
Male pheromones screaming of fertility and health. It’d been so long, she’d almost forgotten his scent. Almost didn’t recognize her master.
A whimper squealed and died in her throat, scarcely loud enough to escape the leaf litter as Hadim relieved himself.
Her skin burned with aching, blistering need. Eyes falling shut, she squeezed them tight as they could go.
