Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout (14 page)

"She doesn't look good, little brother. You shouldn't have brought her here,” Solvun snarled at me for anyone watching to overhear without telepathy.

"I didn't bring her here. She used some ridiculous uncontrollable form of hyper-jumping to quadrant hop through wormholes, and we crapped out of warp just outside Treusch's atmosphere."

Two short bright red four-armed humanoid Lignits edged closer beyond Solvun's form, watching, listening.

Were they listening for someone? Or something? I'd set the tone for the rumors spreading after the meal. “Just give her back to Flonn, Solvun. The only reason he doesn't have her is because Rom thinks he can torment us by giving my pilot to you, making us fight more. She needs kindness. And Flonn's pheromones are kinder than your acidic quips. Why must she live the life of a prisoner when there is no need for her to?” I whirled on a heel and marched toward the pathetic servings of whatever the warden opted to feed his charges today.

A presence pushed back into my mind. “
Yes, little brother. But I don't like leaving her with Flonn, but he's marked her and will protect her. He needs to take her flying
.
Just like when you fell off that wall as a child. You needed to get back up and walk the wall again
."

"
So be it
.” Message received and agreement stated. I had been so afraid of the large bird I'd accidentally loosed my Handler powers on that I had turned the animal into a mound of distorted flesh. I thought I'd never ride an animal again. Not until Solvun told me I had to overcome my fears or Prall clans would never see me as an acceptable King if anything happened to him. My fears. My wall. To walk. Warriors are odd about strength and bravery. But, there was more at stake than simply escaping Treusch and setting Prall's King back on his throne. We needed to put Theone back on her bird before she lost what made her strong. What made her unique. And her uniqueness was the only thing that could pilot that damned spacecraft.

So we had a plan.

Getting Theone into
The Savior
had to have the makings of genius given her beauty might lull its instigator into aiding our escape. Surely. And Flonn would be bewitched. Fooled into complacency because of his addictive nanite connection. We just needed time for the plan to unravel.

Solvun glared into the tiny camera feed in his lavatory and tried to keep his voice low for affect while his D'ena feigned depression over losing Flonn as a mate. Anything to get Flonn to take her to
The Savior
. We needed to know how to find it when we set off the riot. There was no guarantee M'yote would be with us when we tried to escape. Accursed stars, M'yote could distort everything he encountered to escape if we were factored out of the equation. Besides, the ship had to have been repaired by the !Dakos. Or at least be ready for a few tweaks once Theo got aboard. But I had no idea whether anyone was listening to me. Someone would listen. “She's dying, Rom!"

There were times when it would have been really nice if the soul-less !Dakos had just kept their fucking biological brains. Albeit, it's easier to kill your enemy if they dehumanize themselves by becoming machines. Yet, machine brains didn't work in my favor at the moment. I could have just spoken to Rom telepathically. But no. The cyborgs had to go and jack with their telepathic ability too to keep their mutated females from zeroing in on their telepathic biological minds. “Gods-damn you, Rom. Send Flonn,” I spat through grated teeth.

Because Theone is going to have a bitch of a time trying to act out this depression to fool everyone until you think she's dying. “Theone needs his pheromones to pull her out of this dark state she's fallen into. I know you can hear me!” I glanced toward the bed where her form hadn't moved.

Good girl. I'd buy her everything her heart desired when I got her back to my castle. But now, I had to trick the machine brains. “She isn't a spy, Rom. She's just a foolish woman who tried to earn some cash by flying my moronic brother around the universe. You can't hold that against her, even though I would. I can't stand that smug little bastard. Besides, you can use your son against M'yote. Think, Rom! Piss M'yote off, real easy. Just broadcast the sex between Flonn and Theone like you do with us.” I managed an evil grin. “And he'll sit and heel for you."

Theone tried to keep her eyelids shut tightly when Flonn carried her through the empty corridors. But something about his steady supportive muscled frame was just too damned invigorating.

Stimulating. I could use a little taste of beef chop.

My taut nipples scratched at the halter's snug leather. My sex gushed with molten heat. And if he didn't stick his ribeye tongue in my mouth, my rattling heart rate was going to make me stroke. Better to just go with the moment and... I managed to fake a flimsy lift of my arm and aimlessly rub my face like I was waking up from a deep sleep.

"Theone?” his deep sexy voice resonated.

Pheromones. Just pheromones. Big sexy-ass pheromones with one hell of an engorged cock from my recollection.

My sex clamped to concur.

What a hungry girl trapped away under lock and key. This damned chastity suit would be the death of me. For now, I'd just have to go with the moment. I snaked my arm around his thick beefcake neck and scanned my linebacker in top-notch buff state from head to chin.

Gods, to slide down his front, licking my way down until his stiff rod slid along my slick aching channel.

They needed to bottle !Dakos pheromones.

Brothels would make a killing if they dabbed a bit of that potion on the neck of patrons.

Neck. Oh Flonn's big lick-able neck. I shimmied up to trail my tongue along his pulsing jugular.

Oh. My. God. Bacon. Cheese. Chives. Sour cream. Loaded baked potato. Even all the way up to his sweet little bite of an earlobe. I sampled the delicate morsel.

His whole body jolted.

Loaded
alright. Ready to explode in a shower of tasty baked-potato toppings.

Nice. Not a machine. No. All sensory reaction. And I'm ready for some stimulus. “Hello, Flonn. I've missed you,” I whispered into his hollow of his ear. And that was no lie now that I've caught another whiff of a steak feast. What else was on the menu?
Sausage
.

He groaned, his pace quickening.

A door swooshed open.

Not creaking. We must be in a different part of the compound. Maybe his room. With a bed. Someplace to eat freaking beefsteak. I nibbled along the edge of his savory jaw line.

He plowed into brighter lighting.

No problem. My eyes were still closed.

"Reduce lighting fifty percent,” he commanded.

The room shifted with encroaching shadow.

Well, my support made the shift. But who was paying attention when all I could smell was baked potato and suck on his delicious face?

His strong hands eased up my hips to spread my thighs to straddle his lap.

Scratch that. To straddle his bulging swell of promise. Sausage. Yes. Yes. Finagle those sweet fingers right there. Right down beneath the waistband of my pants. And how in the hell are we going to get the pants off? I shoved back to look into Flonn's fluorescent green gaze. “Flonn?"

His eyes were half-lidded as his gaze slid down to the palm I had plastered against his bare succulent chest. “Yes,
hu'vria,
” he hummed.

Enthralled in the heat of the moment. Yes. Oh. Yes. But, unfortunately, we have a problem, and Houston couldn't help us even if I knew where to call. “You don't, by any chance, know how to get these clothes off, do you?” His delicious mouth was but inches away.

One of his black eyebrows arched. “We can cut them off."

But all the bastards in this prison, even Bug Eyes, might get a wild hair to kidnap me by the look in their eyes. So, maybe the clothes are good for something? Hence, chastity outfit. “What about the key? Solvun has the key!"

"We can just cut it off.” He began to lift my hips to move me aside with two handfuls of my butt.

"No!” But I sure loved those big strong hands wrapped around the curve of my ass.

He shot me a curious glance.

"I don't want anyone getting a wild idea about possessing me in this establishment. After all, you enhanced me. And you owe me protection since they all seem enthralled with my appearance."

His cheeks dimpled with his smile, and he pulled my nose to touch his. “You are so beautiful."

Oh. My. My. What a sexy voice.

The air grew warm and fuzzy.

Ribeyes danced through my mind. But he wasn't going to cut off my outfit. Nope. I shoved backward and opened my eyes. “Flonn! You have to get the key. I like wearing this impenetrable suit. It's kind of cheerleader skimpy. And it does nothing for retaining my body heat. But the unappealing prisoners can't get me in a compromising position if I'm wearing it. Ugh. I so don't like Bug Eyes. Or those little red men with four arms. You know what I mean?"

He nodded, set me aside on his soft bedding atop a nondescript queen-size bed. The metal headboard's ornate scrolls glistened in the soft lighting, showing the structure had been fashioned from a silver metal.

Flonn rose and left me sitting alone in his room.

Not a bad bachelor pad for the eleventh son of one of a culture's leading politicians. Although, Flonn didn't seem to need many things other than a recliner-type chair made from the same metal as the bed. Silver-tone or platinum? A table sat between the bed and chair, tall enough for writing and placing things if one didn't want to climb out of bed to do so. Otherwise, the !Dakos decorations of choice were a real glass mirror opposite a tall narrow window, curtains matching the navy-blue bedspread, an oval navy-blue shaggy rug, and a few long curved blades on the wall. All but one was a sword. The shorter knife was more akin to a machete.

Flonn seemed happy with blues. Good thing with my coloring and the
starkissed
enhancement. He'd have to explain why I needed to change though. I had self-respect of which he'd conveniently overlooked. What am I thinking? I need to escape. I need to find a way out of here! I shoved off the bed onto the heavy pile of the rug.

Strange a machine would require such luxuries appealing to their senses. Just another point showing !Dakos warriors aren't machines. And this room probably had a security camera as well. So, I'd have to play as if I was simply exploring. I stepped to his mirror, a good six inches too high off the ground for my reflection. Flonn never had to entertain a female with her reflection. How funny. I settled down onto the chair.

Feeling a bit like Goldilocks when it swallowed me. But with Flonn's size, the chair probably fit just right. I moved on to slide my fingertips along the pale-blue wall until I got to the door.

Nothing happened.

So, the door had some sensor to allow him passage but not me. No problem for now. I'd just keep walking like I hadn't noticed. Just in case someone monitored me with a surveillance camera. I stepped into the shaft of sunlight and followed it like a trail to the window's warm glass. A room with a view beat deposition below ground.

Poor, Sol. My sun in this subterranean hellhole. He could really make me want to chuckle when I tried desperately to play the part of sex-slave kitten to help him escape. I'd definitely miss him if this stupid plan flopped. The !Dakos truly imprisoned him in a crypt. Immortal or not. He'd done nothing from what I've discerned to warrant eternal life underground. Had any of these political prisoners?

So the Pralls wanted me to work on Flonn. To assess
The Savior's
space-worthiness. To sniff out an opportunity to render the three of us off-world. From the endless expanse of green forest beyond the compound's perimeter walls, little existed on this planet other than males and their mates in pocket cities. Since I hadn't scanned Treusch from
The Savior's
eroding orbit just to appear busy dying instead of assessing, I'd never know. Our crash-and-burn strategy left us a little short on information.

The door hissed again.

My big !Dakos mate strode into the room, purpose darkening his green eyes. “I've got the key."

Time for a feast. Forget
where's the beef
?

[Back to Table of Contents]

Cybernetics is... “should one name one central concept, a first principle, of cybernetics, it would be circularity.” ~Heinz von Foerster

[Back to Table of Contents]

Keep it together, Theo. Don't just throw yourself at Flonn again. Get information. The royals are counting on you. They're just as much your mates as this !Dakos warrior. Draw the line of sanity now.

But the more steps Flonn's big black boots snapped toward me in his blue personal quarters, the more I knew keeping any sane thoughts on anything other than removing his bulging silver pants was going to be my biggest challenge in surviving to perform my duty. Flonn could easily prevent me from having a single thought of my own beyond mating with him. But all lay in how one defined success. Maybe keeping him content would prove equally successful?

He snatched me up to peer into my eyes with so much hunger my womb ached.

For him. There goes my traitorous thoughts.

My arms reached out.

Traitorous actions. Or not? For the perfect male form. Warrior. Muscles. Wanting me. And all plotting of an escape faded into our fervent frenzy of massaging skin.

Everywhere.

Where had my clothes gone?

Leave it to the cyborg to uncloak me in the blink of an eye. Or haze of the moment.

His steely body worked like a blanket. Warming. Placating. Caressing me.

I so needed him inside me.

Now.

And then I was, skin to magnificent skin, straddling his lap as he sat on the edge of his big ole’ bed and lowered me carefully onto his brutally swollen cock with two massive hands pinching my ass so wonderfully in his measured efforts that all I could do was close my eyes and savor every delicious moment of his kiss and...

Inch by glorious thick inch of his shaft.

Ribeye and loaded baked potato still forcing all my taste buds into overdrive.