Page 73 of Bred By Sor'en

It's only then that I see the long, delicate antenna that untucks itself from where they were blended with his hair. He leans forward, the heady spice of him making my gut churn. Not because he smells bad, no, he smells wonderful. But because I long for florals. Ravian gives me no warnings as his Anetteantenna to my temples. It starts as a slight sting, nothing too bad, before my head splits in two.

The roars from somewhere else on the ship haven’t let up, but the sound he makes next leaves no doubt of the state he’s in. I try to shut it off, try to keep the pain from the bond with Melion, but it’s no use; I’m a bundle of agony. For a moment, I wonder if it has been a lifetime of only this pain. The domtics dragging on like zentics as talons strip and rip into my mind until suddenly the pain stops. The last thing my exhausted, spent mind sees is Prince Ravian panting as dark blue blood trickles from his nose.

thirty-six

Sor’en

Rage splits my mind into fractured pieces of cutting glass, all reflecting the face of my mate.

She’s here, on this ship.

Melion rages against the barrier as more and more Xyreliths gather just on the other side of the dome, rallying to storm the ship. If I were not still so weakened by the Balla’mar’s sedation, I would be in my lesser form, ripping these forsaken chains from the wall. It has been zentics since Melion’s fear for our mate slammed into me with the force of a thousand suns. It has been nearly half an orbit since their newly formed bond woke me from my toxin-induced sleep.

Toxin slicks every inch of my being, but the tech tightens further, keeping me from slipping free. My eyes scan the surrounding ceiling, my attention snagging on a caged light overhead. I leap up, trying to catch my thumb in the cage. Mybody lets out pang after pang of agony as my shoulders catch the chains. It doesn’t slow me as I grip the cage, positioning my thumb just so between the narrow bars, then I let my weight fall. Pain splits my hand as I hit the ground, checking on my newly broken thumb. My entire left dominant arm is in spasms of agony. Xyreliths' bones are nearly impossible to break.

Nearly.

I have been weakening mine for hours.

I work quickly, hissing between gritted teeth as I slip and manipulate the broken bone so that my hand can slip free from the oiled cuff. It tightens just as I slip the digit free, getting it out by a mere fraction of a domtic in time. The chain bolted to the floor falls to the ground just as the barred door slides open.

My eyes widen, a roar forming in my throat as my mate cries out at the sight of me.

She rushes in toward me, a male blanching at the sudden movement. I recoil, flinging myself backward so hard that the force of the leap knocks me off my feet as my back slams the wall. A gust of wind hits me in the dank room, throwing my hair back as the Kalzait male wraps his arms around her, tossing them both back with a powerful gust of his wings.

“Are you fucking insane? Look at him!” he hisses at her, making me snarl.

Hue gasps, finally taking stock of my toxin-soaked form. Already, I’m fighting my instincts to make it safer for her. Trying to when everything in me screams to stay lethal.

“Take your hands off my mate,” I warn.

Hue seems to gather herself, going to step away from him, only for an iridescent wing to jerk out, blocking her path. “You will stay behind me.”

She shoves at his wing, making him shiver and drop the offending part. For most winged species, their wings are a highly sensitive, highly private place. I roar, fighting against thechains, reaching with everything I have to touch him, to see him crumpled—

“Stop, Sor’en!”

My mate's voice finds me, and while I would’ve obeyed her command, it is notherthat stops me. It’s the male. The shade of his pale skin, the tone of his hair…

Clayan…

“Draya’la, explain to me why you are in the presence of a male who most certainly wants me dead? And why, in all seven levels of Qavara, are you on this ship?”

My eyes snap to hers, her arms crossing indignantly over her round, beautiful belly. “I couldn’t just leave you. I wouldn’t do it, Sor’en. Please calm down. We need you to stop being toxic for a moment, please.”

My chest aches like I’ve been run through at the sight of my perfect little gift, so I address him. “If you have any mercy within you, release her. Please release my mate and let her and my child live. I will indebt myself to you, anything you wish. I can be an asset—"

“Of course you could,murderer,” he snaps, the princely facade blackening away to a husk, his shimmer bright and unyielding.

He will not die today.

Strange.

“Sor’en, please, Ravian has been kind to me. He-he wants to look into your mind… to see that day.” My eyes slide to her, to her burning desperation as she continues, wringing her hands in front of her. “I know you didn’t do it, at least not on purpose. Please,I want to go home,” she cries, fighting against reaching out to me.

It is safe to do so now, but I do not tell them that.

Not yet.