Series: Zandian Brides Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Said they were going to maybe kill us…” she blinks and winces, tilts her head in question, as if she can’t focus on her own thoughts. Maybe she can’t, abused as she is. “All of us…” she trails off, voice confused. Her energy flags.
“Us?” I narrow my eyes. She’s alone.
She gasps. Shudders.
I look more closely at her face and delicate body. She has long, thick wavy black hair and light brown skin. Healthy, she’d command a huge price at auction. The Ocretions don’t treat humans well, but this is beyond even their typical greedy behavior–they like their slave bounty to be in top shape to sell for the best prices in the galaxy.
“We might not make it.” Her eyes shut and don’t open.
“Why would they leave her here like this?” I scowl. I want to pound my fists into the faces of her former masters.
Axe shrugs. “I don’t get it either. But I guess she’s ours, now.” His voice has far less enthusiasm than a Zandian would usually have at finding a human female. But then, he was with me when we were betrayed by one.
I barely stop a low growl from rumbling in my throat. She’s mine. Not ours.
But that’s not the way things work on Zandia. We have so few Zandian females left that our species has exploited the compatibility of human females with our males to repopulate our planet. Many Zandians have mated in multiples--two, three, or even four males to one human female. But for some inexplicable reason, I want this female. And I want her all to myself.
He adds, “She can be bred by Zandians, for sure. But it’s a vecking inconvenient time to run across one and steal her.”
“Save her,” I correct. And she’s definitely worth saving.
I sniff again; the fetid air is surely not helping the human breathe. “Let’s get out of here.”
I glance at the human. She’s still breathing although it’s shallow. Her hair is lank and greasy, her body broken, and I feel an urgent, unfamiliar feeling to protect her. Save her.
“Hurry.” But as I step forward, something creaks under my foot. I look down and catch sight of an outline.
“There’s a trap door here in the floor,” I whisper to Axe, pointing down.
He grunts.
“Dangerous, but worse to leave it unexplored.”
He nods. I gesture; he pulls up the door slowly, and I point my laser gun down as I look into the hole. I risk using my lightstick on low setting to get a better view. “It’s like a crawl space hewn into the rock and dirt. And is that?”
“Veck the stars, what is that?” Axe gags at the odor that pours from the opening. It’s the stench of death. My human coughs and moans.
The shallow, dusty hole beneath the shack is stuffed with bound bodies, all females, and there’s no room for more. At least five or six.
The two of us drop into the space immediately; there’s no ladder down, but it’s not needed with such a small area. I recognize the willowy form of a Za’ir, prized at auctions. I check her pulse. “Dead.” I check another one, a shorter Za’ir. “Also dead. They let their slaves die.” My blood boils as I enhance the light, making it brighter.
“This one’s alive.” Axe picks up a human female. “You take her.”
I climb back up and reach down, accepting the small body as he hands her to me.
I’m irrationally relieved that there’s a second human, so I won’t have to share mine with Axe, not that he’s even asked that of me. Not that he has ever shown interest in taking one because he dislikes humans for some reason he’s never shared.
I study her as I shift her in my arms. She doesn’t produce the same possessive sentiments the first one did. The same sense of destiny.
Zandians don’t believe in fate. Before we mated with humans, we didn’t speak much of love. My attraction to the first slave must be chemical. Our genes are most compatible for mating.
That must be it.
I deposit the second slave carefully on the ground. When I turn back, Axe has hoisted up two more human females and is untying them, so they can walk. “All the Za’ir are dead. These human females need fluid immediately.” None of the others are beaten like my human–yes, I’ve already decided she’s mine and mine alone–but they’re not in good shape.
I assist the weakened females, gently rubbing their wrists to help circulation. “Who are you?” I ask. “What happened?”
They’re stunned, eyes wide, in shock. None of them seem able to speak; they can barely stand. I give up on talking; there’s no time anyway. We’ll get the information later.
When we’re all out, I curse again. “Vecking monsters.”
I stare down at my female. She’s lovely--too slender, but softened with round breasts and dark nipples that beg to be sucked. I scoop her up–she’s so light in my arms, like nothing.