Creations 4: Caging the Beast (16 page)

“Easy,
czeva
. This is my nephew Drekk,” Tarn said quietly. He pulled Zachem back by the arm but didn’t let him go. “The large ugly one behind him is Ryen, his mate. Remember, I told you about them.”

Creations. Both of them. Zachem willed his aggression away and studied the males with interest. Like him, they had been designed by scientists yet displayed no outward signs of an aggressive madness.

“This is Zachem. My mate.” Tarn’s proud introduction surprised him.

“He’s beautiful.” Drekk whistled. “Where the hell did they Create you?”

“Mate?” Ryen asked, his low voice more like a growl. “You found someone who could stand you for more than five seconds? Congratulations.”

“Ryen.” Drekk scowled then sighed. “Forgive him. We’ve
both
been worried. Pyrgo found us yesterday after nearly starting a war with the Outer Rim. Needless to say, Rafe isn’t pleased.”

“Rafe is Drekk’s boss,” Tarn explained.

Drekk frowned. “Not boss. Technically, yes, I work for him. But it’s more of a partner-like relationship.”

“Doing peacemaker business.”

“Peacemaker business?” Zachem couldn’t help the pheromones that escaped. He used them to lull the others into complacency, acting automatically in the presence of a threat.

Ryen swayed, but Drekk caught him, shook his head and managed to focus. “Cut it out.”

Tarn stood by without saying a word. When Drekk too looked on the verge of passing out, he said, “Zachem, enough.”

Zachem released his hold on the two and glanced at Tarn. His mate winked at him, pride in his gaze. He realised Tarn had been showing him off, but why that pleased him when he should have felt more angry, he couldn’t say.

“Shit. What the hell did they put in you besides Nebite?” Ryen asked, holding his head.

“Nice. Very interesting skill you have there, Zachem.” Drekk grinned, and Zachem saw a hint of Tarn in the male. “We work for the peacemakers, but aside from Rafe, they have no clue of who we really are. Who
any
of us really are,” he said wryly at Tarn. “Ebrellions are no more welcome in the Vrail than Creations.”

Tarn donned the shirt he’d dropped earlier. “So where’s Pyrgo?”

“He should still be with Rafe. I told Rafe he was your cousin, by the way. But I don’t think he’ll be welcomed back anytime soon. He had a hard time taking his eyes off of Erin.”

“My sister,” Ryen growled, the pupils in his eyes bright.

“Another Creation?”

“Yeah.”

Zachem swallowed hard, not wanting to say anything that might further offend these two. They were the first of his kind he’d met that hadn’t tried to kill him. He didn’t understand the conflicting need to both run from and draw closer to the pair.

Tarn rubbed his back, the touch soothing. Before he knew it, Zachem relaxed into his mate’s hand. “I assume you brought transportation. Or are we going to stand around talking until the
kethra
and raptors attack?”

“Asshole,” Ryen muttered with a grin. He flicked a glance at Zachem, one filled with a hint of approval and speculation. “Come on, Drekk. Let’s get lover boy and his new toy back to—”

Tarn had him by the throat before anyone could blink. “You insult my mate and I’ll break your neck. Apologise.” To Zachem’s amazement, Tarn lifted Ryen off the ground with a hand that looked like a mix of
threll
and human parts.

“Dammit.” Drekk swore under his breath. “Ryen, do it. You’re going to be punished as soon as we get home. You’re straining at the leash again, aren’t you?”

“Sorry,” he rasped, tugging at Tarn’s large hand. “Just kidding.”

“You’re not funny.” Tarn dropped Ryen and took a step closer. “Now apologise
to him
.” Ryen glared at Tarn but quickly looked away at a low growl from Drekk. Fascinated didn’t begin to describe Zachem at the unfolding events. Ryen, who seemed like he could break anyone in two, clearly obeyed Drekk. And Tarn, who up until now hadn’t seemed overly menacing, looked ready to kill.

A thrill of excitement blossomed. Zachem had a mate stronger than himself. He suddenly knew that if they’d been allowed to battle in The Pit, he might actually have lost.

“I’m sorry.” Ryen looked at him with a sincere apology. “I only meant to irritate Tarn, not to offend you.”

“No offence taken.” Zachem nodded but couldn’t look away from his mate.

Satisfied, Tarn snorted and gave Drekk his attention, ignoring Ryen as if he no longer mattered, which seemed to annoy Ryen to no end.

Drekk explained, “Rafe is waiting at his place with Pyrgo. The crystal’s been delivered into Dorvian hands. But Pyrgo told the Dorvians a story about a crystal and a certain berserker. They won’t leave until they’ve met him.”

“Great. Pyrgo and his big mouth,” Tarn muttered. “Fine. We’ll meet with the Dorvians, since I know Zachem wants to know more about his ancestors. Until then, we need food, rest and a decent shower.”

“Dorvian, hmm? I should have guessed. Those handsome red eyes.” Drekk nudged Ryen to move ahead of him. “Right. Follow us.”

Zachem stood in place, stunned. How did Tarn know how he ached to connect? To know not only Creations, but the Dorvians as well? “You knew I’d want to meet with them.” Tarn sighed. “Yeah, I did. You said a lot to Six, if you recall. I listened to everything you had to say,
czeva
. I didn’t forget.” He ran a hand along Zachem’s jaw. “Everything you think and desire is important to me.”

Zachem’s heart raced. “You liked when I took them both down with my pheromones.”

“I’m proud to have a mate with such strength. One almost as strong as me,” he teased.

“We both know I can kick your ass in the ring.” His hand lowered to mould over Zachem’s buttocks. “And we both know I can fuck that ass wherever and whenever I want to.” The gleam of dominance in his gaze turned Zachem inside out. He burned to bend over and let his master take what he wanted.

Tarn inhaled and choked. “Hell, Zachem. Not here. Some Ebrellions don’t mind sharing, but I’m not letting anyone else get a look at your fine body. It’s mine.”

“Yes, Master.” The more he said it, the more he felt claimed.

Tarn’s hunger pulsed within his own
shei
. “That’s it. Feel what I’m feeling. Just a small gift an Ebrellion mate can bestow on his beloved.” That was twice Tarn had mentioned love. Zachem meant to question him about it when Drekk called for them.

Tarn nudged him in their direction. “I know you’re hungry. Your
shei
isn’t right. You need food and rest. Come on,
czeva
. Let’s go home.” 

Tarn endured the ride home in silence, awash in the confusion stirring his mate’s
shei
.

The tarnished bands of energy entwined within Zachem hinted at love, lust, fear and puzzlement. He only wished he knew if the love belonged to him.

It made sense for Zachem to be cautious. Hell, his entire life had been lived for someone else’s convenience. As much as Tarn wished he could be less of a dominant, it wasn’t in him to be less commanding. Nor was it in his mate to be less subservient.

The ride home, Drekk had peppered Zachem with questions Tarn had encouraged his mate to answer. Watching Zachem bask in the warm acceptance of other Creations—even Ryen treated him with the respect due a warrior—pleased Tarn to the point of hiding a stupid grin the entire trip to Four Walls.

“When are you going to leave this dump?” Drekk finally asked when they docked near his bar.

“Soon. You can let us off here.”

“I’ll tell Rafe to expect you tomorrow. After the mid-morn. Don’t be late.” Tarn snorted. “We’ll be there when we’re good and ready. Come on, Zachem.”

“Until tomorrow.” Zachem nodded at Drekk and Ryen, who smiled back.

As they walked off the ship, they heard Drekk reprimanding Ryen.

“He won’t be punished too severely, will he?” Zachem asked quietly.

Tarn chuckled. “I hope so. Don’t worry about it. Ryen needs a strong hand. And what Drekk does to him won’t leave any scars. Just a very frustrated male on the edge of release.” Zachem’s face cleared. “Oh.” His skin sparkled, drawing attention.

“Damn. I hadn’t expected to deal with this yet. Look, do your best to tone down those colours, would you? You’re handsome enough that I’m going to be fighting off the idiots around here for some time. But we can’t have them finding out about your background.” Zachem’s skin evened out. “Sorry.”

“Yo, Tarn,” one drunken Mardu stumbled over to them. “Where you been, fella? My boys made a mess of the place. Not my fault,” he hastened to add.

Tarn sighed. Time to restore his reputation. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he said to his mate in a low voice. He walked a few paces to Durvand and hauled the male off his feet, much the way he’d treated Ryen. “I just returned to the planet, and this is what I have to deal with. Lyrval!” he yelled.

An Ebrellion with a shaved scalp bisected by a thick black wave of hair down the centre of his skull stepped outside the bar. He stood as tall as Tarn and looked twice as mean.

“Durvand’s irritating me.”

Lyrval hurried to take hold of Durvand but froze when he caught sight of Zachem.

“Mother Night. Who the hell is that?”

And so it began. Others trying to claim the prize that was his. Tarn snarled, “Mine.” Aware of how barbaric he sounded, he cleared his throat and tried to tone down his jealousy.

Good one. Make an ass of yourself in front of your friends and your new mate.
“Ah, this is my mate.

He’s not from around here.”
Great, now I sound both lame and stupid.

“No shit, Tarn. Well, does he have a name?”

Zachem stepped forward, contrary to what he’d been ordered not to do. “Zachem.” He looked from Tarn to Lyrval and frowned. “Who the hell are you?” Sensing nothing more than his mate’s protectiveness, Tarn relaxed. “Easy,
czeva
. This is my second in com—ah, my new partner in the bar. Lyrval.”

“
Czeva
, hmm?” Lyrval grinned. “How do you do it, Tarn? They’re always so damned pretty. Let me know if this one’s got a sister.” He waved good-bye and yanked Durvand into the bar.

“Who is this ‘they’?” Zachem growled.

“I told you to wait over there.” Tarn grabbed his mate by the arm and dragged him behind the bar, away from prying eyes. “What ‘they’ are you talking about?”

“The ‘they’ who are ‘always so damned pretty’. How many mates do you have, you damned shifter?”

Zachem’s voice grew louder as his own jealousy erupted.

Tarn couldn’t have been more pleased. Instead of answering, he ‘ported them both to his home, a well-guarded estate far on the fringe of Four Walls, bordering the Eron Forest.

Zachem stumbled and swore. “Warn me next time.” He paused and looked around.

“Where are we?”

“My temporary home, far from everyone.”

He entered ahead of Zachem and walked through a tiled entryway, past a large sitting room back into his bedroom. He dropped his clothing, well aware of Zachem’s growing desire, and entered his massive lavatory.

Native waters flowed through the spouts on several walls of his glass shower, cleaning him of the grime from his trip. He waited for Zachem to join him. After some time, he soaped up, rinsed off, and left the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked out into his bedroom, only to find Zachem passed out on the bed.

Dropping his towel, he removed Zachem’s clothing and joined him in bed. His mate curled towards him, spooning him into the crook of his body. Content to sleep on his side next to his
czeva
, he relaxed into Zachem’s warm frame and hugged his mate’s arm to his chest.

Closing his eyes, he regulated his
shei
to mirror Zachem’s. As he fell asleep, he wondered how long he’d have to wait for Zachem to admit his love. He dreamed of tomorrow with a smile on his face, his mate by his side.

Zachem woke to a warm mouth suctioning his cock. He groaned and thrust upwards, having the best dream of his life. In it, his mate aroused him, toying with his balls as he laved his cock with his tongue, teeth and lips. The energy shared between them put him into a drugged stupor, one filled with love and lust that seemed to never end.

He opened his eyes with Tarn’s name on his lips.

“You taste so good, pet,” Tarn mumbled between kisses to his cock. “I want to eat you, all of you.”

Tarn sucked him some more, and then mounted him before he could come. Tarn shoved hard into his ass, already lubed and thick with arousal. He pounded into Zachem with a ferocity that left him aching and needy. Pressing his mouth to Zachem’s for a kiss, Tarn shared a wealth of passion that made it hard to breathe.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he panted as he tensed and shuddered, coming hard into Zachem’s ass. He groaned. “You didn’t come yet.”

“You didn’t tell me I could,” Zachem said, barely holding on.

“I didn’t?” Tarn lowered himself, so that his belly rubbed against Zachem’s swollen shaft. “Come all over me,
czeva
. Rub that seed into my skin.” Tarn nipped at his earlobe and ground against his shaft while remaining inside him. “Mark me.” Zachem moaned and shot hard, pulses of cum coating them both.

“Mmm, you smell so good.” Tarn purred, the same damned way he had as a
threll
.

“Makes me never want to move from you. Addicting.”

“Stars.” Zachem stared up at his lover in awe. The love in Tarn’s green-gold eyes was there to see…if he dared believe it. “You—you really do—” He couldn’t finish.

Tarn kissed him again and slowly withdrew. He continued to kiss Zachem, teasing and loving him with his mouth. “Come on, mate. Let’s get cleaned up. Not to mention I need to feed you.”

Tarn leapt from the bed and pulled Zachem with him. They showered and dressed, but Zachem was forced to wear trousers a size too short.

“Ryen’s trousers might fit you. I’ll make sure to tell Drekk to bring a pair to Rafe’s before we buy you some.”

Zachem ate in silence, wondering how to go about the art of living.

“What’s wrong?” Tarn watched him carefully.

“I just realised I have no currency. No job and nothing to barter. Nowhere to live.” Tarn scowled. “You have plenty of currency. What’s mine is yours. And this is your home. Until you wish to travel elsewhere. We can live as we go, then.” Zachem blinked. “But you have a life here.”