OnsetofDanger

Aubrey Ross

Sworn Protectors, Book Two

Wounded and in chains, the last
thing Bronik expects when he crash-lands on Earth is to be interrogated by the
most desirable woman he has ever seen. Each lash of her whip and searing
sensation only makes him more determined to taste her blood and feel her
tremble beneath him as he explores every curve of her amazing body. He doesn’t
have long to wait because his interrogator soon becomes his captive.

When Eloise is rescued from certain
death by her handsome enemy, she’s infuriated and relieved. He’s determined to
learn the location of her brother’s research lab before her brother succeeds in
creating a powerful vampire hybrid. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know the lab’s
location—and Bronik seems more interested in stimulating her senses than
probing her mind.

Inside Scoop:
Lots of wicked
BDSM and a brief ménage, in addition to a scene of forced sex.

A
Romantica®
sci-fi erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Hunger tore through Bronik’s body, twisting his stomach and
buckling his knees. Metal cuffs bit into his wrists and ankles, burning through
his lethargy. He welcomed the pain, using its cleansing fire to clear away the
cobwebs from his mind.

Earth. Despite an attempted mutiny, the ship he’d served
aboard had reached its intended destination. If crashing into the planet could
be considered a legitimate arrival.

Their mission had seemed simple enough—observe, assess and
advise. The war raging on Strigoia Prime had taken its toll on the population,
leaving High King Alta with two alternatives. He could either find an off-world
site where he could banish political prisoners or locate a new home for those rich
and powerful enough to merit evacuation. This trip to Earth was supposed to
have determined which alternative made more sense.

Forcing his sluggish body to obey, Bronik centered his feet
beneath him and straightened his legs. The pressure on his wrists lessened
until only an annoying throb remained. There was enough give in the cables to
allow him to kneel, but not enough to let him sit down. He’d been stripped of
everything but his uniform pants. Even his feet were bare.

He needed to think, to analyze the situation and determine a
course of action. He was obviously a prisoner, but who held him captive and why
had he been separated from the other survivors?

He blinked, unable to penetrate the darkness. When he’d
regained consciousness the first time, he’d been in some sort of clinic,
surrounded by other members of the crew. Kristof, his little brother, had been
awake as well, but everyone else had been chemically sedated or held within a
powerful thrall.

This was Kristof’s first off-world mission. A lump formed in
Bronik’s throat, making it hard to swallow. Kris had been so proud to be chosen
as a member of Prince Alexi’s crew. This mission was important. That’s why
Alexi insisted on leading the expedition himself. But they’d been betrayed,
their objectives obliterated before they ever touched down on Earth.

Now the name of the game was survival.

Refusing to give in to grief or fear, Bronik accepted the
calming wave his symbionts triggered. There were definite advantages to hosting
the microscopic organisms living in his blood. He provided them with a
nutrient-rich environment and they imbued him with strength, speed and the
ability to manipulate minds. He could also teleport. When he wasn’t weak as a
baby.

But every advantage had its price and symbionts were no
different. To maintain the level of nutrition necessary to sustain his tiny
passengers, he had to feed on fresh blood, directly from a living source
whenever possible. The symbiotic relationship also made hosts extremely
allergic to ultraviolet light. Sunlight quickly drained his strength and
escalated his need for fresh blood.

A door directly across from him swung open and a woman stood
silhouetted in the threshold. Tall and lean with graceful curves boldly
outlined by her formfitting garments, she just stood there for a moment while
he struggled to find enough energy to increase the illumination in his eyes.

“You put up quite a fight. Took three of my guards out of
commission for a day or two.” She moved into the room and the door swung shut
behind her. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Always.” His throat was so dry he could barely form the
word.

For a moment they were enveloped in darkness, silky and
heavy with anticipation. Then brilliant beams stabbed into his eyes from the
corners of the perfectly square room. His eyes burned and the pounding in his
head intensified. Nausea surged, momentarily driving back his hunger. He
squinted and turned his head from side to side but there was no escape from the
punishing brightness.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was surprisingly pleasant,
well-modulated with just a touch of husky purr.

“What would you like it to be?”

She circled him, offering him glimpses of her features as
she moved in and out of the beams of light. “How many were in your crew? We
want to make sure we have all the survivors.”

Flashes of memory tormented his mind. Twisted metal, fire
and screams of pain. He sucked in a breath, fighting back fury and anguish as
the images clarified. Prince Alexi had done everything in his power to minimize
the casualties. They all had, but still so many died.

Vladya! His focus snapped back to his interrogator as her
scent reached his nose. His Strigo symbionts raced through his bloodstream,
stimulating his body as they recognized their enemy. His heart pounded and
strength flowed back into his arms and legs. He would not come all this way
only to die at the hands of the same ruthless hosts who were decimating his
home world.

There were four symbiotic strains, each similar yet
distinct. They all lived in the bloodstream of humanoid hosts and each
empowered their host with a different skill set. Strigo strain was oldest and
most powerful. Its primary abilities were mind control and infiltrating dreams.
Vladya hosts could manipulate energy, siphoning it from others or forming
concentrated balls that could be thrown at an enemy. They were warriors,
ruthless and ambitious. Levari hosts were unpredictable and volatile. The most
powerful Levari could shapeshift, but their abilities fluctuated wildly
depending on the tolerance of the host. And then there were the Rom. Secretive
and psychic. They could sense emotions and foretell the future. Rom hosts were
extremely useful, when one was strong enough to control them.

Pausing directly in front of Bronik, his captor put her
hands on her hips and looked him up and down. “This will only be as unpleasant
as you make it. Remember that.”

Were Strigo and Vladya strains at war here on Earth? Bronik
wasn’t sure if anyone had considered the possibility. Recon teams were sent
every ten years to assess the progress and integration of the hosts. First
contact with Earth had been established by a group of rebels nearly five
centuries ago, so Strigoian leaders felt responsible for their actions. To
Bronik’s knowledge none of the recon teams had reported any significant
hostility between the earthbound strains. General resentment and mistrust were
expected, but hosts were so vastly outnumbered by humans it made more sense to
at least attempt to get along.

His eyes finally adjusted to the contrast of painful light
and dense shadow, allowing him to see her clearly for the first time. Rather
than flowing across her shoulders and down her back, as was the custom on
Strigoia Prime, her short dark hair created a sleek frame for her delicate features.
Highly arched brows accented her expressive eyes. Their depths combined brown
and red into a color both unusual and alluring. She wore more makeup than he
generally preferred, but the dramatic effect coordinated well with her
fetish-inspired garments.

“What was a ship full of Strigo hosts doing in Vladya
territory?”

He watched her cherry-red lips form the words and barely
comprehended their meaning. He wanted to nibble on those lips, see if they
tasted as sweet as they looked. “I’m pretty sure you know this wasn’t our
destination.”

One corner of her mouth quirked as she turned her face away.
Unable to resist the temptation, he let his gaze slide down along her slender
neck and across her shoulders. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her
solid-black garments. Translucent lace covered her arms, while a front-lacing
corset sculpted her torso and lifted her breasts. His gaze lingered on the
tempting ivory mounds as he slowly licked his lips. Were her nipples pink or
brown? Would they pucker beneath his tongue or grow flushed and puffy?

The ridged handle of a leather whip raised his chin until
his gaze returned to her face. “My eyes are up here.”

“Shouldn’t show them off if you don’t want them admired.”

Her only response was a quick glare before she went on, “Who
are you?”

“Anyone you want me to be.”

With mesmerizing grace she stepped back and swung the whip.
The lash struck the center of his chest, sending fire crawling across his skin
like venomous webbing. “Each time I find your answer inaccurate, my response
will be the same.”

“That wasn’t ‘inaccurate’. I
can
be anyone you want
me to be. Tender lover or ruthless master. Just tell me what you want so I can
play my part.”

“This isn’t a game.” She accented the statement with another
snap of her whip, but he was ready this time and easily absorbed the sensation,
gradually converting the pain into pleasure.

“Keep them coming, love.” He shivered and let the tips of
his fangs peek out between his parted lips. “Nothing stirs me up faster than a
well-aimed whip.” He shifted his hips, displaying the rapidly growing bulge at
the front of his pants.

“You’re hungry. That’s understandable. I’ll send in a feeder
as soon as you answer my questions.” Her expression was watchful now, no longer
the cold mask she’d hidden behind before. “If you haven’t tasted human blood
yet, you’ll find it intoxicating.”

“Why’d you shoot down our ship?”

Her brows drew together as genuine confusion crept over her
expression. “Your ship crashed before we arrived. We presumed there’d been some
sort of malfunction.”

He knew exactly what had brought down the ship, or should he
say who, but he had no intention of sharing the information with a treacherous
Vladya bitch, regardless of how fuckable he found her. “If you know our
intentions weren’t hostile, why am I in chains?”

“I know your arrival didn’t go as planned, but I’ve yet to
determine your intentions. So you’ll remain my prisoner until I’m certain
you’re no threat to Vladya strain.”

“I host Strigo strain. I will always be a threat to Vladya.”
He paused, making sure he had her full attention. “
But
I don’t strike
unless I’m provoked. If you want honest answers, release these cuffs.”

She slowly coiled the whip and set it aside. “Is the young
one your brother? One of the healers told me you were very protective of him.”

“It’s my nature to be protective. Why have you sedated
everyone? Their wounds will heal faster if they can feed.”

She moved closer, curvy hips rolling beneath leather pants.
“I know you’re hungry too. Answer a few questions and I’ll bring you a variety
of eager feeders, female, male. Whatever you want.”

He stilled, caressing her with his gaze as his voice dropped
to a rough whisper. “I want to feed from your pussy while you suck my cock.”

Anger flared in her eyes and her hand flew at his face. He
turned his head and caught her wrist with his mouth, securely anchoring his
fangs in her flesh.

She shrieked but wisely kept her arm still and very little
of her blood escaped the wounds. “Have you lost your fucking mind? I host
Vladya strain, you fool! My blood will kill you.” She tugged on his hair then
stomped on his bare instep. He grunted but maintained his hold on her wrist.
“Let. Go.” She placed her free thumb over his eye, the threat needing no
explanation.

Retracting his fangs with a muffled laugh, he freed her
captive wrist. “I’m a pureblood Strigo host. Do you honestly think my symbionts
can’t handle a few Vladya intruders?” He licked his lips and savored her unique
taste. Sweet and complex, there was an element to her blood he’d never
encountered before. “You’re an initiated human, aren’t you?” Her only response
was to bend forward and draw a long, thin blade from her boot, giving him a
delightful view of her cleavage in the process. “Tell your master I’m insulted
that he didn’t question me himself. I never deal with anyone who isn’t of pure
blood.”

She ignored his demand and averted her face, expression
rather dazed. A bright flush crept across her pale cheeks and down her throat.
He’d only meant to rattle her cage, not fire up her desire. Strigo symbionts
liked to use sexual frenzy to overpower reluctant feeders, but this woman was a
host and his bite had only lasted a moment or two.

“I’ve tried to be nice but you obviously respond better to
brutality.” With a lightning-fast swipe of her arm, she sliced his chest with
the tip of the knife then stood back and watched the blood trail down his
torso. “What is your mission objective?”

The bloodthirsty little bitch! His symbionts quickly sealed
the wound but the red stripe remained, a constant reminder that she’d dared to
cut him.

She wiped the tip of her blade with a soft cloth, her gaze
fixed on the vivid red smear across stark-white material. “I know damn well
you’re not part of a recon team.”

The only ships that had come to Earth in recent years had
contained recon teams, so it was a logical assumption. Still, he had no
intention of confirming any of her suspicions. “Where’s my commander? I know he
survived the crash.”

“I thought
you
were the commander.” The mischievous
sparkle in her eyes told him she lied.

She had to know by now that he wouldn’t tell her anything,
so why did she continue with this farce? Was she enjoying his discomfort or was
she aroused by his helplessness? “And I think you’re much too beautiful to be
an inquisitor.”

Approaching him slowly, she twirled the stiletto and swayed
her hips. “Then answer my questions so we can both find something better to
do.”

“Slip out of those leather pants and I’ll show you all sorts
of ‘better’ things we can do right now.” His cock ached and his fangs burned.
He needed to feed and he needed to fuck and her scent was driving him crazy.
“Leave my arms chained if that’s what’s making you so wet. All I need is my
legs.” He thrust his hips toward her, letting his erection point the way.

“In your dreams.” Her sneer wasn’t as convincing as the
smell of her cream.

“Why wait for a dream?” Closing his eyes, he slowly licked
his lips. “Want to hear what I’m imagining? You’re naked and on your knees.
Watching you undress has made me really hard. I’m still chained but you unzip
my pants and—”