“Sa-cha,” he growls, tugging me tighter against him. My bad hip twinges, and I wince, wondering if I’ve suddenly bit off more than I can chew.

Because the intense look in his eyes isn’t going away, and I worry I’m going to have to trade sex for my safety.

Just like I do with Tate.

The thought fills me with self-loathing.

 

 

10

 

 

DAKH

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My Sa-cha is confusing me.

I rub my nose along the column of her throat, waiting for her to give me a signal that she is ready to mate. That she is challenging me. I thought she would, especially when she ran the other human female off. After all, does a female not scare off others before pursuing her male of choice?

And when I scented her cunt on her hand, need for my mate overwhelmed me. I forget everything but her and her scent. Let the other little human leave. What I want is right before me, her scent in my nose.

But once the other is gone, Sa-cha makes no move to challenge me. Her scent begins to take on a tinge of fear, and I am frustrated. What am I missing? What is it?

I hold her close, waiting. Hoping. If nothing else, I want her to put her hand between her thighs again and coat her fingers with the scent of her cunt. I want to lick it off her hand and see how she reacts once more. I want her to spread her legs and let me drink from the source.

I want all of this female.

But she only looks up at me with big, anxious eyes, and her scent grows more acrid with fear. I think of the last time when I tried to touch her, and she made water from her eyes.

I do not want that to happen again. Seeing her like that hurt me. But how do I make her understand that I want to claim her as my mate? That she is not safe until I do? That we cannot speak unless our minds are linked, and we cannot link until I have given her my fire? My cock aches with the need to claim her, and yet I will not touch her, not as long as she smells of fear.

I need to understand. “Sa-cha.” I put my hand on her cheek, touching her. I wish I knew the human words for mating, for challenge. But I only know her name, and so I try to show her with my touch. I encircle her with my arms and turn her, pressing my cock against her backside.

She goes stiff in my arms. She does not pull away, but she does not have to. I can sense her reluctance as clearly as her fear-scent.

I am defeated. I let her go, even though my instincts are telling me to claim her. To make her mine. But how can I claim her if there is no willingness?

 

I think on this for many hours. Sa-cha chatters brightly and speaks in a happy tone as she pulls things off of shelves and unwraps them. She spreads out something that looks like an animal hide but feels very different, and tosses a bunch of soft blobs onto the pile. I realize she is making such a pile to sleep in, and I bite back my snarl. My mate should sleep in my protective grip.

But…Sa-cha is not my mate.

She eats the foul-smelling food from one of the small rounded containers and makes happy noises. I let her eat all of it—I will hunt myself one of the four-legged beasts that roam this land for my own meal in the morning. I will have to take Sa-cha with me, because I do not dare leave her alone again. If she were my mate, I could leave her in my nest, confident she would be protected by the scent of my fire in her blood.

Right now, she smells too good, too fertile, too female.

I consider this even as her talk slows to a low whisper, and she clicks on something that has a small light and shines it on one of the squares with the crinkly white sheets. She flips them, caught up in whatever she sees, until her eyes begin to close. Eventually she clicks off her strange light and puts the square aside, then drifts off to sleep, nestled in her blobs. I cannot shift to battle form in here, not without knocking many things over and rousing her. So I move to the nest of hides she has made for herself on the floor and lie next to her.

Sa-cha only sighs and settles in deeper in the nest, her breathing even with sleep. She wears more of the strange skins that she has picked up this day. I do not understand why the humans choose to cover their bodies with such things—perhaps because they have no scales to protect them? She even gave me a skin—a tight-fitting one that feels as if it is pinching my sac with every step. Just thinking about it makes me reach down to adjust my cock, and I frown. I hate it, yet I will wear it if it pleases her. She covers her entire form with such things. I dislike them. I want to stroke her skin and feel it against mine, but all I feel are these strange layers.

She sleeps, content, and I study her as she does. She likes this place, this nest. Not just the strange skins with the blobs, but this entire structure. She grew so excited with the sight of each new thing that I have decided we will stay here, where it makes her happy.

The fact that there was another human female here perplexes me. I did not smell her, my senses dulled by the strange scents in the air. That reminds me of the stink of the humans in their hive. I do not like it, and I do not trust it. If the other human returns, I will destroy her. Sa-cha must be kept safe at all costs. What if there is another human hiding nearby with the same ability to mask his scent?

I pull Sa-cha closer to me, troubled at the thought.

She makes a little sound of pain, and her hip makes a rustling noise. I frown to myself. She wrapped her hip and her arm with fresh skins this evening and slathered a foul-smelling paste on her wounds. My female has many injuries, and I cannot help but worry that perhaps I have been too rough with her in the past, when the ravens were attacking my mind. Is this why she is afraid of me now when I touch her? Did I hurt her before and I cannot remember it? My mind is nothing but chaos when I am away from her, but when she is close, I am able to think clearly. I do not think I would hurt her, but I cannot be certain.

Nothing can be certain until I link my mind to hers and we can speak freely.

Sa-cha is so small and fragile. I touch her shoulder, wanting to pet her and stroke her, but not wanting to hurt her. She gives a little sigh in her sleep and moves closer to me, as if pleased by my touch. I am overjoyed at that small reaction and run my hand up and down her back, caressing her through the layers. She makes a contented sound, and I am surprised at how much pleasure I feel at her enjoyment.

When she sleeps, she does not fear me. And earlier, when I licked her scent off her hand, I imagined that I saw interest in her eyes. Heat. Anticipation. It went nowhere, but it tells me that Sa-cha would respond to my caresses, I think. If I could get her to challenge me, she would put up a small fight and then give in sweetly, allowing me to conquer her. Allowing me to mount her and claim her, to give her my fires.




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