Giaus shrugged, and said nothing.
Knowing just how it would rankle his vicious mate. That she’d just confirmed at least one of the myths of the mating bond.
She could feel him.
Grinning, his point made, Giaus abandoned his wound. His blood swamped with arousal at the sheer weight of possibility. Having a female who might anticipate his every need? One naturally submissive, already conditioned to obey.
His.
Completely.
Renegade stumbled back, teeth gleaming white in the gloom. “I don’t want this. Don’t wantyou.”
At this, Giaus’ chest rumbled with mirth, his ribs issuing a creaking protest. His unnatural golden gaze fixed to her face, memorizing every inch of this glorious creature before he bothered himself to move. Dropping one shoulder, he let her see the lie she tried to sell. The imprint of her teeth left high on the muscle of his shoulder.
“That meansnothing,” she snarled, but he saw the way she shivered. Wobbling on legs she couldn’t quite seem to control. “I’ll find a way to break this infernal bond.”
“I hope you do,” he said at last, and resumed his watchful vigilance of so resourceful and indomitable a spirit. “That you run as fast and as far as you can.” He licked his lips. “But the next hunt will not be so gentle.”
For a moment, Renegade chewed at her lip. Sniffling as she stared him down, her eyes rimmed in red, over-bright and sunken. And then she lost her footing, slipped and caught herself before her knees buckled, and said, “You’re just like the rest of them, Giaus. I don’t need to see the way you look at me to know you think me a sleeve for your cock”—she scrubbed at her breastbone, ears laid out, tears sparkling on her lashes—“I canfeelit! Right here.” She hiccupped, a tiny sound that struck him with the weight of a feral horde, before she pressed her eyes into the crook of her elbow to banish those tears. “And it hurts…”
“Omega,” Giaus hummed, rattling and broken. He extended his left arm, palm up. An offer of comfort despite his confusion at her words, her actions. That his mate felt his pain was a passing concern that would fade by the hour, but her rejection? It rankled and burned. Wormed deep inside his chest and evoked a thing he’d never known before. An obstacle he couldn’t easily overcome. “It’s the killing fever,” he rumbled at length, voice laced with the barest whisper of a drugging purr. Seeking to force her compliance when she swayed again, squinting at him with unfocused, bleary eyes. “Come. Sleep now, through the worst of it. When you wake, it will be with new eyes.”
But through chattering teeth, she sneered and resumed her fretting. Turned her back so he couldn’t see those tight little nipples that begged for the tranquil roll of his tongue.
She wanted a fight.
So a fight she would have.
“Shall I mount you as we quarrel?” he drawled, and let his offer of comfort slap to the slimy granite. Frustrated, his fist curled to hide the point of extended claws. “Shall I take you now, while your temper is hot? Is that what you need to end this nonsense? A knot to keep you placid?”
“You don’t own me!” she snarled, vibrating all over. Incensed.
Completely adorable, from flattened ears to her elegant battle stance. As if she meant to rail against him.
As if she had even half a chance.
Fighting back the amusement, he said, “You reject what you do not understand.”
She shook her head. Tears spilling over her lashes, despite the helpless step she took toward him. “I reject a new master who sees only a womb!” she cried, and sniffled. Flushed with shame as she trembled before him, a fine layer of dew gathering on her brow. “One who can’t see…me.”
So Giaus looked and saw high, elegant cheekbones. A creature of his most wild musings brought to life, who denied him at every turn, whose scent alone was enough to send him into a mindless, all-consuming rut. Enough to put him off food and drink, abandon all that he’d built to the roaming hordes of hopeless lost. Enough to see him challenge an entire pack for the rights to claim a single precious, high-bred female who took in every monstrous inch of him and begged for more.
“What—” She staggered back, thumping against the wall. Filling their small space with the stink of terror, hands pressed to her breastbone once more. “What is this?”
Shameless, Giaus took advantage, for that was the curse of the Omega. That she’d feel what she did to him. “Let me soothe you, mate,” he rumbled, watching her melt. Her pupils ballooning out, to swallow the dark outer ring of those beloved dark eyes.
Teeth flashing, Renegade persisted. Knees trembling, chewing at her lip.
And so he was the first to bend. Purring a symphony for the fierce little thing whoneededthe comfort only he might offer, Giaus reached and pulled her close. Cupped one hip in a massive hand meant for murder, he squeezed something delicate, and said, “This will pass.”
“Please—” Renegade stumbled, taking the final step toward him before giving up. Before her knees turned to liquid, and she was caught up. “Just… just let me go…”
Giaus hummed as he swept her off her feet, and said simply, “No,” as he cradled her in the crook of one massive arm. Crooning for the beautiful, damaged thing just so he could watch her eyelids grow heavy. The stabbing pain in his ribs forgotten.
“Giaus…” she slurred, her ears tipping forward as he shifted. Set her high on his belly, and left her sprawled across his chest.
“Sleep,” he said, and planted one large palm over her bellybutton. Kneading the spot where his seed would flourish, that delicate cradle that could ignite war between the Anhur. “The Trax will take the place of all this weakness and frailty. You’ll wake stronger, Renegade. My vicious warrior.”
