She’d run one of the slowest miles in her class for P.E., but she didn’t tell him that.“I could be,” she said instead, feeling hope blossom in her chest.Shewouldbe.
“You could slip away easily, like a shadow,” he murmured, gazing down at her, assessing her.“There is no shame in running if it means your survival.You can best your opponent in a different way that does not rely on strength.That is what I will show you.”
Somehow, Cara knew the alien standing in front of her would never run from anything.Even if it meant his death, he would never retreat, never back down.
“I understand,” she murmured, tilting her head down in a nod.
His hands dropped from her shoulders and her body tensed when he circled her again, stopping when he was directly behind her.In the mirror, she saw him over her shoulder, with his darkened skin, his jutting horns, his wide shoulders.She looked so small next to him.
Cara sucked in a surprised, startled breath when his arms suddenly came around her, a vice-like grip wrapping around her torso, just beneath her banded breasts.Her back made contact with his chest, pressing into the full-length of his front.
In her ear, he hissed, “Try to run.”
Panic rose in her veins, threatening to consume her, but she knew—somehow she knew—he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want.She didn’t know how she knew.It was just…something inside her.An instinct.
He was solid.A pillar of marble, of strength and muscle, and pure, tightly leashed power.And he was at her back, binding her, just like a cage, in his arms.
“Show me,” he growled.“You want your freedom?Fight for it.”
Cara’s eyes narrowed.Her blood was rushing in her ears, adrenaline making her hands shake.
He wanted her to fight for it?
She would.
Something in her broke free and it surged within, making her veins feel like they were on fire.She let that panic fuel whatever was happening, she let itdriveher.
So, with everything she had, she tried to run.Tried to break free from his hold.Her muscles protested and strained.Her toes clenched into the rubber mat he’d put down for her on the floor, grappling for traction.His arms were like steel around her, unmoving, firm, impossible.
But still, she fought.
Cara didn’t know how long they struggled against each other.She did know that sweat dripped down her face, her heart felt like it would beat a hole through her chest, and her underused muscles were already weakening and failing her.
What she did also know was that the alien at her back hadn’t said a single word during all this.Except for a few grunts when she did manage to jab an elbow into his side, or the one time she’d connected with his shin, he’d been quiet.His strength never had any mercy on her.He didn’t loosen his hold once.
Finally, when exhaustion began to take hold, when her movements became sluggish, he stepped away.
Cara sagged to the mat, drawing in deep lungfuls of air, too tired to be embarrassed that she probably looked pathetic right about then, probably looked weak, just like he’d told her.
Her arm shook to support her as she glanced up at him, pushing sweaty strands of hair from her eyes.
His next words made her draw in another sharp breath.She saw anger in his eyes and didn’t know why.
“You have six spans before I relinquish you over to the Azatian that purchased you,” he said, voice unreadable, monotonous, not winded whatsoever.His stamina was impressive because right then, Cara realized that she’d fought against him for a long time.
His words—at least up until that point—were nothing that she hadn’t already guessed for herself.At least now she had a timeframe to work with.
Six days.
But his next words made the travel ration in her stomach rebel.“He purchased you to be his next pleasure slave.To join his harem, his collection of females from all around the Quadrants.”
Scar’s hands clenched at his sides.Again, blood was dripping was them.
Cara’s gaze fell to the mat in front of her, sliding away from him.Again, nothing that she hadn’t already guessed.But hearing it confirmed didn’t make her feel any better.
She didn’t expect the disappointment, however.
Once she caught her breath, her voice was raw and husky when she said softly, “So that’s what you do.You’re a nameless mercenary that collects women for this pig’s pleasure.Do they all ask you to train them?Do you make them believe they might have a fighting chance before you hand them over like possessions, bought and traded with the money that he gives you?”
