Page 15 of Bred By Sor'en

I contemplated how quickly I could kill him.

I am grateful it did not come to that.

The Balla’mar is a balanced male, a proud one, if not annoyingly so. It would have troubled me to murder him. I glance over my shoulder, my senses telling me of my mate's angry whispers, although I cannot hear them. The bowl of steaming food in my hand would’ve burned had I had the soft palms of my people. No, mine are hardened; years of working the dirt have ensured it so. I find myself, for one of the first times, oddly grateful for that. I cannot afford to be soft like them. Not with such a strong mate. I watch her as she drapes the large sheet from our bed over the top of the stools, balancing on the edge of the sunken opening that is common in Xyrelith homes, making some sort of tent structure. My cock vibrates, but I can’t find it in myself to be embarrassed by the sound. By my own lack of control, my bizarre foreign mate is strange in all ways; I cannot wait to explore her.

She doesn’t cast me a single glance before dropping to her hands and knees, providing me the most interesting view of her openings before crawling into her nest. I promptly follow suit, letting her take the lead. It would surely make the people of my city laugh to see me crawling around after my little human like this, but I do not care.

I would crawl through the thorns of Qavara if only she would order it of me. I would humiliate and humble myself, starve, murder, steal and cheat if only to gain an ontic of her favor. Because I am an unbalanced male, a horrible, horrible male, but I am hers.

She screams as I edge my front half into her nest.

A scary male.

“Did I frighten you, my gift?”

Her eyes make an alarming-looking rolling motion. “No, I just scream like that for fun.”

“Do all humans do this, or is it specific to you?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

I nearly drop her food, my eyes widening and the buzzing that had nearly faded kicking up again, filling the room with the sound of my need. “You wish to copulate?”

Her eyes widen too as she sprawls cross-legged in the middle of her padded nest. “What the shit does that mean?”

“You saidfuck. I am of the understanding that is another human term for breeding.”

“No! I mean yes, it is, but I am not fucking you! Youkidnappedme.”

I try not to let her see me deflate. “I did not kidnap you. You were mine to take. I also paid you, you attacked me and attempted to have me murdered on the—”

“Wait. If I let you touch my vagina, can I have that? On the outside only!”

My jaw nearly unhinges as I stare down at the forgotten bowl in my hand. “I made this for you,” I mutter dumbly.

“Like, for free?” Her voice softens a bit, and by the goddesses, it is pretty. Too bad I greatly dislike her words.

“Do you often let males touch your reproductive parts for food?” My words leave me in a rough growl, toxin surging behind the surface of my skin at the thought of other males seeing my mate as she is now.

This hardens her, but I am too agitated to care. “It’s really none of your damned business what I do with my vagina!”

I nearly break the bowl, urging my large, lanky frame into the space before it occurs to me I likely will bring it down on us both. “Oh, but it is. You are my mate, and unless you want to be the cause of a great many deaths, I must insist you keep yourvaginato yourself. I will provide you food, free of charge, unless you find yourself to be wanting.”

Her face falters, her voice softer as she crosses her arms, hiding her small breasts. Her legs, annoyingly, do the same, hiding her warm center from me as well. “Yeah, right. You’ll probably just knock me out with your oil again and rape me.”

I smirk, hating how unkind it is. How evil she thinks I must me. It is easy to slip into that role, the monster the Alliance needed. The monster General Adder made me, the monster I made myself when I fled from the dying body of a child all those spans ago. “This oil can do more than make you sleep, little gift. Perhaps if you mind your manners, I shall show you one day.”

My mate's pretty little face is flushed, the smell of her arousal so heady in her nest I nearly groan, all of my anger leaving me as quickly as it came. Oh, perhaps we are firmly matched indeed. It seems my Draya’la likes monsters. She’s quiet, suddenly adept at avoiding my eyes as she snatches the bowl from my outstretched hand.

“I’ll be outside. There are things we need to discuss when you’re ready.”

eight

Hue

Males are stupid across all species, but this one is an excellent cook. It takes me a few all too brief moments to lick the bowl clean of the odd, mushy white stuff inside. Sweet, but in the same strange floral way most of this planet seems to be. I peek outside my tent, ensuring the coast is clear before wrapping one of the sheets from the bedding around me again. I’m brave enough to flaunt around here naked, but maybe not so brave to do it outside.

Outside.