One curled fist braced beside her ear, the hunter bullied his way in. A relentless brand remaking her to fit his needs, she was recast in a new mold as he worked at her tight slit. Giving her no quarter until he was all the way inside, a taunting scowl pressing stolen kisses to her lips. Her collarbones and temples.
It wasn’t until he was lodged against that final gate—thick base stretching her pussy to its limit even without a knot—that he relented. Purr ceasing on a final, oppressive note.
The silence made her sob as clarity returned. Helpless, but to press both hands to the heat of his chest, and do what she could to accommodate. And though her hair grew wet with the brine of her anguish, she tried to coo and enchant. Spread wider for the scourge of male flesh that stole her breath.
And then he did a thing she could never have imagined.
Hiking her left leg over his hip, his claws traced a crisp line over her skin. Touch reverent and possessive. Igniting a trail of hot coals soothed by a wave of gooseflesh, he traced her every inch until he found the stump of her tail. That badly healed bundle of nerves a constant,painfulreminder of what Hadim had stolen.
“Alpha,please,” she hissed, eyes going wide. Flimsy claws dimpling his chest in a bid to distract.
Head dipping, he pressed his forehead to hers. Wrapping her in his heat, his scent. Claiming her every spare ounce of attention, his lips parted on a gift meant only for her.
“Giaus,” he breathed. “You will call me Giaus.”
And then he scraped his claws over her docked tail.
14
Breath frozen in his chest, incapable of absorbing the scene laid out before him, Sinadim could only stare. Jaws hanging slack. The pack hidden, waiting on his command as they watched from the shadows.
Trapped beneath pumping hips, Renegade was impaled. Her tiny Hathorian pussy stretched to accommodate a titan who shouldn’t exist. A beast who’d mounted the treacherous little bitch and claimed everything Sinadim had meant to keep for himself.
But this was not the corrupted unworthy he’d expected to find.
Not riddled with repulsive deformities or rotting from the inside out,this beast could speak.
He had a name—a solid, Anhur name popular amongst the nomadic miners who worked the lava-fields. Those hardy few who moved from one barren sheet to the next, searching out veins of copper and other precious metals exposed from the extreme heat.
Giaus.
Muscles rippling with a sheen of effort, latticed with the marks of battles won, every impossible inch of bronzed, male skin was revealed in painstaking detail to the pack lurking in the shadows.
Chest heaving, veins distended, Giaus shifted to catch a nipple between his teeth. Working that ripe flesh until Renegade sang for him. Until his mane stood on end in a full flare of coarse, dark hair. Hips flexing where he had Renegade pinned to the dirt, possessive and greedy of the rare thing he’d found wandering without a pack.
And his tail—it wasintact.Held stiff. Raised in an arrogant, taunting flag that sailed across the backs of his thighs.
“Glorious,” Sinadim breathed despite the twisting, hateful ache of jealousy. Humbled by a beast that would stand a full head taller than even Micha—who was the largest of them—and yet was still undeniably Anhur. Sinadim could taste it on his next breath. Musk. The very wind thick with rutting pheromones. Heavy.
Pulling the flavor to the back of his sinuses, Sinadim’s vision glassed over as his own rut was triggered. Swirling at the back of his brain, the addiction clawed and scratched. Hungry for another taste…
Sack drawn tight, a killing haze of testosterone and rage seeped directly into his blood. Commanding him to fight this impossible example of Anhur perfection and paint one unruly Hathorian womb withhisseed, just so he might do it all over again.
And again.
“By the Nine,” Micha whispered. “The war chief has fallen. Look.”
Sinadim looked and saw horror.
Bound, made to watch, Balkazar lay close enough to taste the violent claiming. Ignored where he was trussed up in the dirt.
Blue eyes flicked up, and in an instant, their eyes met over the back of a rutting beast. Peeking between dainty floundering ankles, Balkazar saw into the gloom.
With a shake of his head, Sinadim signaled for restraint and watched Balkazar’s face wiped clear of any hint of reaction.
It was little more than a few precious moments borrowed from the Nine. Time to think as his good eye flicked across the landscape, Sinadim’s mind whirling for answers. Searching for the way through…
… to save who he could, and leave the rest behind.
