The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride

I’ll die if he touches me, Lan’ara thought, her stomach rolling. I’d rather be dead than go through what he has planned! If only Need was here to save me, like he did from Mistress Bigaboo’s whorehouse!

But no—it was Need who had gotten her into this mess in the first place! He had decided she had somehow betrayed him and had gotten angry enough to sell her away to the Senator, who had no use for her once he found out she was “tainted” by her unwitting bond to the big Kindred.

If I can only get out of this, I’ll make my own way in life, Lan’ara swore to herself. I won’t be dependent on any man, ever again!

The extremity of her situation seemed to have brought out a new side of her personality. She was tired of being submissive and subservient and flattering and begging men for her very existence! In a just universe, she never would have ended up in this situation in the first place. She thought of Laxah back on The Dark Heart and how the diminutive Med Tech claimed that no male in the galaxy was worth a damn—at the moment, Lan’ara was inclined to agree with her.

But she had more important—and frightening—things to think about than the emerging sense of her own inalienable rights at the moment. Before she could go live a liberated life and never bow down to a man again, she had to get away from the horrible Trollox who was holding her captive.

And how am I supposed to do that? Lan’ara wondered bleakly. She cast a glance to her side and saw all three heads leering at her with greedy lust.

“You’re gonna like the little place I found us to stay while you carry my heir, girly,” the middle head promised, grinning widely to show its yellow tusks. “It’s a lovely little cottage I bought while that fool of a Kindred was selling you to the Senator—so it is! You’ll be so happy there while I breed my heir into you.”

“I’ll…I’ll throw up on you—all over you. I did it to the Senator when he tried to…to take me. I’m bonded to Need and it makes me sick when any other man touches me.” Lan’ara didn’t like the way her voice quavered. Where were her brave words now? Her fury seemed to have deserted her, replaced by abject fear of the huge, foul-smelling giant who wanted to hurt her.

“You think I don’t know that?” Drung snorted laughter that sounded like grunting. “Hells, girlie—I knew it when I tricked that fool Kindred into selling you to the Senator, so I did!”

“You…you did?” Lan’ara asked haltingly.

“Of course!” He snorted laughter again. “I knew by your scent that you’d bonded yourself to the Kindred—and I knew from reading your file that the touch of any other male would make you sick, so I did.”

“So you knew the Senator would consider me ‘tainted’ and want to get rid of me!” Lan’ara exclaimed.

“Of course,” Drung said again. “Been waiting for the call from his High and Mighty Lordship from the minute that fool Kindred first took you down there. When it came, I only had to come down and swoop you up.” All three heads leered at her again. “You should have been mine at the auction block, girlie. But never mind that, I got you at the end, so I did.”

“So you did,” Lan’ara echoed dully and looked away from the three hateful heads of her captor. She didn’t know what else to do.

Pray, whispered a little voice in her head. Lan’ara frowned. It was what her mother used to say—when all else fails, pray!

But pray to whom? Lan’ara had given up thinking that there was any kind of entity out there that cared about her when she got word that her mother and brothers had died. But now she was being held by a Trollox who intended to take her away to a deserted island and force her to bear his horrible child and there seemed to be no escape. What else could she do but pray?

Oh please, she prayed silently, though she hardly knew who she was directing her plea to. Please just help me get out of this mess! I’ll make my own way if I can just get away from Drung. I won’t be dependent on anyone—I just want to be free and not belong to anyone but myself ever again. Please!

There was no answer to her prayer, but Lan’ara felt somewhat calmer anyway. If she couldn’t get away from the Trollox, she decided, she would kill herself. That would be better than having him force himself on her and giving birth to a horrible, three-headed baby. And maybe then she would go to be with her mother and little brothers at last—that wouldn’t be so bad.