His Human Rebel (Zandian Masters 4)

“To Zandians, the crystals have life-giving properties.” He lifted the gem to his wound once more and smiled faintly as he felt its hum. “They bring a sense of peace and calm to those who touch them, and when used in windows or skylights, amplify the sun, which we require as energy to survive.”

Cambry’s smile turned teasing. “You just showed me your weak spot, warrior.”

He shook his head. “No, my weak spot is this,” he gripped her ass possessively, pulling her even tighter against his body.

“Are you going to make me the recipient of your joy again?” she purred.

His cock surged painfully against his pants, and he groaned. “Soon,” he choked against her damp hair. “Right now, I have to work.” It took all the self-control in the galaxy to release her and step away, but he did it.

Soon he would bind her to him so she and all the pod recognized what he knew to the depths of his marrow.

She belonged to him.

Chapter Four

After the incredibly satisfying—in more ways than one—shower, Cambry ought to have been ready to retire to her room, but a restless energy had her loathe to stay holed up in her tiny closet until dinner. Odd. When had she ever preferred the company of strangers—or beings in general—to solitude? It had always been she and Tal with plenty of alone time in between.

Maybe she’d just take a walk around the pod. It was strange to feel so free. While she still considered herself and all the other “refugees” to be essentially prisoners, they hadn’t been treated that way. There were no curfews or restricted movements. The first time she’d walked the hall alone, yesterday, she’d been certain one of the guards would stop her, haul her back, or punish her. But none of those things had happened.

She just didn’t like leaving her little chamber unlocked. Since Lundric had smashed his fist into the control panel, there was no way to lock it from the outside. Not that she regretted the loss of the control panel in the least. She never would’ve let him lure her in there if it had still been active. It wasn’t so much she had anything to steal—although she’d guess most every refugee there would love the skin products—it was more that she’d hate to return and find someone waiting in there to ambush her. Thank the stars—and Lundric—she still had the dagger he’d given her.

She closed her door tightly and set off through the corridors. Although she had no purpose, she affected the walk of a being who did not want anyone to hail her or try to engage her. Except she wasn’t even sure that was true anymore. The beings she’d engaged with—namely Lundric and Lily—had not yet harmed her. In fact, they’d both given her gifts. A dagger and skin products might not seem like much to a Zandian, but they were the most valuable things she’d ever owned.

She walked through the row of prison cells, taking in the way they’d turned into nests. Though little had changed in architecture or even furnishings, there was a settled feel to them now. Beings talked or rested. Faces and shoulders were relaxed; chatter was easy. Like hers, their defenses had started to come down. At the end of the row, she took a right and looped back through a second row of cells.

If she’d been in one of these cells, her guard would not be down. There were too many beings, too many variables for staying safe. Lundric had truly done her a favor by providing her with her own space. But had it come at too high a cost? What were the huge alien’s expectations of her now?

Who does this tight little pussy belong to?

Did he really believe that? Or was it his form of dirty-talk during sex? Because she belonged to no male, no matter how considerate. No matter how much he made her knees weak and her core turn to molten lava.

She almost wished she hadn’t learned about his past. Seeing him as a fully dimensional being instead of just a virile young prison guard changed things. Veck, she had to see all the Zandians with a little more sympathy after hearing about the genocide of their species. Although, at least those who escaped death were free and, from the looks of it, rich. Her species was still enslaved on most planets.

She came out of the second row of cells and turned left down a corridor she didn’t know. When it dead-ended, she reversed direction and headed back. She wondered if she’d run into Lundric.

As she rounded the bend, a fist smashed into her temple, and her vision went black.

~.~

“Wake up, red.”

Her face stung with a slap. Her head screamed as she cracked her eyes and tried to make sense of her surroundings. The creepy male who’d slept near her the planet rotation she met Lundric swam into her vision.

His lips stretched into a chilling smile. “That’s right. I waited until you woke up. I prefer you awake for this.”

Her adrenaline kicked into high gear, clearing her head. She struggled to move but found herself pinned below the male. One of his hands squeezed her throat, and he straddled her waist. Her clothes were still on, thank Mother Earth.

He closed the fist around her throat enough to cut off her breath.

She struggled harder, vision turning red. Don’t panic—fight. She clawed at his hands, scraping his skin under her nails, drawing blood.

“Get...the hell off me,” she wheezed and bucked her hips, trying to dislodge him, but he weighed too much. His grin grew wider.

“Keep fighting, red. I love the struggle.” He eased his grip on her throat, and her vision returned as he let her draw a few ragged breaths.

So—a torture game.

To hell with this. She wasn’t about to let this asshole win.