Unless this double-sight was a prophecy bestowed upon her by the Nine. A vision of what she could become, if she would only reach out and take it…
She blinked, blocking out the horror of gore-spattered hands.
Fingers pried apart were wrapped around a cold, bony rope. Her tail. Inert, yet twitching. Beautiful, black fur luxurious despite the blood.
It felt so real.
And then she understood the meaning of it all, what she had to do. What she’d been born to do.
Assurance blistered her lungs on a held breath. That something foreign returning to harden her spine, blooming hot and fast, making her chest swell with determined courage. Surrounded by lies and no options, her future was a blur of sticky, white endurance.
But only if she never asked for more.
“You will serve me,” she whispered, lips tracing the words, her voice all but absent as she ran her fingers over the ghost of her tail. Her eyes glassy and unseeing as she traced the fine, elegant bones where they weren’t. Where they’d never be again. But it didn’t matter anymore because sheknewwhat she was.Who. “You will serve me,” she said, letting her memories fall with a splat of rejection, “because I demand it.”
For a moment, there was only that.
The silent echo of their shock to hear a Hathorian speak of her needs. Her demands.
But she was far from finished. “Nest,” she said, forcing the single word between clenched teeth. Her ears flattening as she braced for a fight. Hadim would have to deal with the messy Hathorian fluids he despised so much, but they would do thisherway, in the custom ofherpeople. “Take me to my nest.”
This time she would use Hadim to satisfy her needs.
And then, when her season had ended, her glands deplete and satisfied… she would tear out his throat and trap his screams in her palm.
Chapter 26
It was dark in her den.
Dank and wet. Atrocious ventilation, detritus littered the floor, every visible surface was coated with a fine later of filth. It was little more than a cave—and one she’d probably commandeered from a forest beast. Knowing what little he knew of the wild, bossy little female, Sinadim had to presume she’d eaten whomever she’d found inside.
The thought of a Hathorian female so fierce and defiant made his cock throb, and he stroked it. Base to tip. Hungry for the moment when her eyes dulled, the fires banked in worship tohim. When she went limp and pliant beneath the snapping hips of her new master, helpless to resist a natural season.
As if to remind him she hadtwomasters, Balkazar pushed her forward, stripping free of his leathers with one hand. Beneath the war chief’s foot, sticks and branches crackled. Crunched. Drawing a low, defensive hiss from female lips.
Frowning, his interest piqued, Sinadim watched her dart about. Wholly focused on setting her things right, on collecting the displaced treasures she’d amassed and returning them to their original position.
Not once did her inky gaze seek the exit. Never leaving the loose circle of random shit piled up in the darkest corner.
“Isthisyour nest?” Sinadim asked, lip curled. Understanding dawning as he saw the heap of forest litter with new eyes.
Saying nothing, the girl merely turned glassy black eyes up at him. Blinking acknowledgment, her cheeks pink. Fingers worrying a shard of speckled blue eggshell.
Edging closer, Sinadim abused that sacred space with all the arrogance his position of authority afforded him. His nostrils pinched white, he inhaled the musky scent of a female in season. Chest rumbling with satisfaction, his brain filled with pheromones. Crouched, he balanced on his haunches, left elbow braced over one knee. Reaching out with his free hand, he plucked the eggshell from dainty fingers. Inspected it with a concerned frown.
“Micah!” he barked. “Sickle! Gather our supplies. All the spare clothing and bedding you can find.” And then he met her eyes. Happy to do battle with the little thing quivering with the exquisite, indignant fury of a female in heat. Who dared to order him about and whose nest had been violated. All her hard work, her obsessive organizing, dashed in a single swipe of one massive hand.
A squawk of protest ruptured her inky glare, leaving fatal cracks he would exploit to his advantage.
And with a sneer, Sinadim swept away the last of that sad excuse for a nest. Pleased to see her scramble after her precious treasures—utterly lost to her instinct—he confiscated sticks, leaves, moss, and other findings from the forest floor. His smile growing cruel. “It looks like our little bitch needs to learn to build a proper nest.”
The female growled, the insult igniting her temper. Challenging her on a primal level, he continued. “Submission doesn’t come easy to you, does it, Omega?” he asked and made her look. Forced her pretty face back with a fist in her midnight locks and caught her gaze in an unblinking glare.
“We’ll teach her, brother,” Balkazar said, prowling toward them. Cock in fist, he thumbed a pearly drop beaded at his tip. “She’ll learn to serve on her back. Where she belongs.”
At that, she transformed. In one instant, a softening female entranced by a male worthy of breeding her—in the next, a wild thing. Twisting and thrashing, she oozed from his grip. Launched herself at the war chief with a vengeance worthy of an Anhur queen. Her ripe state and nudity utterly forgotten.
And though Balkazar caught her easily, she continued to rage. Howling and untamed, leaving red streaks across the war chief’s chest until he managed to catch her wrists. Until he spun her to face her Alpha and pressed against her back with a shudder of male satisfaction.
