Page 4 of Bred By Sor'en

I can feel Melion even light-years away, raging in response to me, his panic a physical fist in my chest.

When I face the Oozarian male next, he recoils, glancing down at his palm before it abruptly phases out of shape. I didn’t harm him, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, I suppose. Although I’m unconvinced that changing forms will suppress anything, should I change my mind. It could buy him a domtic or two, perhaps.

He breathes quietly. “Thlorinzae, take the females out. Now,” he orders, but his mate doesn’t move, her eyes glued to me with no small amount of pity in them. Is that better or worse than fear? Is it pity for me? For her? Yes, that’s it… she pities my mate. I force a calming breath at the concept, urging the darkness within me to hold its frenzied battering at the walls of my mind. Taunting, demanding, raging at the very threads of my soul.

She knows. The Oozarian womanknows.

Females of her species have a gift, a secret one. One similar to mine, but different. They guard theirs better than we do. We have paid for that misjudgment since.

The breath she releases is wobbly at best when she shakes her head. “No, my light, that won’t be necessary. He has no interest in them. Only her.”

Her mate cuts in, “No! We are responsible for these females. They are part of the Breeding Act of—”

“I will leave with my mate now and we will do so quietly…” I offer, unable to meet my Draya’la’s eyes. I don’t bother to finish the sentence, to give voice to what goes unsaid. It’s unnecessary to expose my delicate female to such vitriol.

“I understand your eagerness, but sheisa breeder, and you should not be here without an escort. Your very presence directly violates at least a dozen Alliance laws,” the male seethes.

My jaw ticks as I gently, slowly, slip off my glove underneath my cloak. If only they knew what their Alliance was up to, that I was invited… forced here.

“Perhaps a private room?” The female Oozarian cuts in.

“No, we leave now.” To Qavara with the meeting, I’ve done what I was tasked to do. They should find him soon and can glean their report from their cameras.

“She was here for compensation…” she counters.

My eyes cut to hers before gazing back up at my mate, meeting her terrified stare, her beautiful green and brown eyes, the pupils blown wide and panicked, hiding most of the color. I can see it, the moment she puts the name to the species before her. The fear that clouds her eyes is gutting; I don’t fault her for it despite the way it gnaws at the core of me. “I will provide you with anything you need. Funds, luxuries, you will want for nothing.” A pathetic, desperate pang fills my chest as she shuffles away from me, her chest heaving.

“I’m not—” She gulps down a shaky breath. “I-I’m just here as a breeder, that’s what I agreed to.” Her head snaps to the Oozarians at my sides, desperation marring her pretty face. She wants help; my mate is desperate to be saved fromme. My chest caves at the thought, the rejection marring and scarring my bones so deeply they will leave ruts in the land when I rot.

How hideous she must find me. Such a soft creature. A human of all the cursed species!

I look back at the floor, letting my hood obscure me again so I don’t further distress my female, my long pale hair falling forward, pressing against the inside of my veil in slashes of white. The darkness taunts again. Reminding me we need her, begging, screaming, bellowing totouch. My body trembles in the wake of the toxin that floods my system. With it, a jarring anxiety that makes me falter in my rage. A small dead body, his light snuffed out…

One mistake, that’s it. One loss of control, a mere domtic. Already the prayers and masterings drilled into me from birth are lesser than. Insignificant. How had I ever managed a modicum of control without her?

I’m losing it, my grip on the darkness as it begs, pleads with me to act. Unease ripples toward me like waves pounding against a shore. The spirits that linger near feel it; their whispers find me.

“Let me have her. It is done,” I warn, my voice strained. Toxin buds on my fingertips, like the teardrops in her eyes. I urge it back, but it no longer responds to my commands. I’ve been hijacked. I am nothing more than a petal on the wind, the whisper of a spirit in passing. I am woefully and devoutly hers, at her whim, her mercy.

Ask it of me, human, ask it of me to send them all to their deaths. I am a sullied male, unbalanced, disgraced, but it would be an honor to damn myself for you.

“No, I don’t consent. You can’t just hand me over. This is human-safe space. There are laws! We are a sentient species—”

“Intergalactic Law 7.3.1: The Sentient Bond Recognition Act,” the female Oozarian breathes out, dread clear in her voice. It does nothing to calm my Draya’la. “Where a sentient species possesses a biologically or neurologically verifiable mate-bonding instinct, and such a bond is recognized and confirmed, said bond shall supersede all contractual, commercial, or custodial claims upon the bonded individual.” She glances at me, keeping her voice hushed. “It applies to species that have aCritical Bonding Reflex.”

My mate just shakes her head as if not understanding.

The other female huffs. “It’s a biological imperative that, if denied, results in psychological collapse, death, or mass harm.”

My mate sucks in a calming breath that chokes into a half-panicked grunt. “Okay, but we can do something. Wait for a second, just give a minute,” she rushes out, her hand snapping to her chest, rubbing something underneath the garment she wears, smearing it with the color of her blood. “I need to get down.”

Both Oozarians seem to school themselves at that. My eyes track every movement, every shift in their simmers as they usher her off the platform. The male's hands fist and waver at his sides, as if he could stop what he no doubt believes to be a horrible fate. Perhaps one worse than death. My pulse spikes, my eyes frantically chasing the air above her where her death shimmer should be, unease battering in a new, horrifying way. I cannot see it. I can’t know. What if it’s dim? What if my mate is near death? What if she’s in danger—

A pair of green eyes peek over her hunched shoulder at my sulking, trembling form. Halting my thoughts, softening them. As she’s led away by the Oozarians, my female spares me a glance.

She catches herself quickly, looking forward again as we draw farther from the spectating crowd, who, at this point, thank the twin goddesses, have remained mostly oblivious.Sans the very dim female who was beside her, she saw everything. I pause, wondering if I should kill her, rattle her mind. It’s something about the hopeful look in her eyes as I step back toward her that stills my hand. It’s the crushing disappointment in her hollow crystal eyes that assures me she won’t raise the alarm. She will pass soon, should the gods not spare her. Although I doubt she wishes to be spared.

In an instant, I am back with the group, making them collectively flinch as I appear. I follow closely to my mate, gritting my teeth as she shies away from me. Making sure I am closer to her than she is to them. So close at one point as we navigate the twisting halls that the heat from her warm flesh makes another pleaded shudder rip down my forked spine. Her hair is long and wild, a deep red that will look lovely in our home. Such a different shade to anything I’ve seen before.