Rebel Pax (Shifters of the Primus Book 2) (2 page)

S
he wakes shortly
after we are in the cave. I slide a boulder smeared with
Sakkar
blood in front of the cave opening to discourage hungry beasts. I curse myself for letting the
Vorga
fire a spine into her. I still feel my body fighting off the effects of the several dozen that it sunk into my flesh. But Primus bodies constantly cycle their cells and can repair near-fatal wounds in a matter of hours. I have never seen another species do the same, and it seems this woman from the stars is no exception.

She sweats and her eyes are squeezed shut in pain. She is murmuring something about big stupid alien jerks. Just when she is about to say what she thinks of me and my
perfect buns
, her eyes open, widening as she seems to remember everything that just happened.

“Where—” she asks, voice weak.

“Lie still. Each time your heart pumps blood, the venom moves deeper into your body.”

“Venom? Oh,” she says, looking down at her white skin. Purple tendrils are stretching from where the
Vorga
spine struck her.

“Do not fight me,” I say.

“Why would—Hey!” she shouts as I tear off her clothing. “If you don’t get off of me right now I’ll—” Her small fists beat against my shoulder and arms.

Surprising myself, I smirk at her. “Kick me in my perfect buns?”

Even though she is clearly in pain, her mouth opens in a silent “O” when she realizes I heard her delirious rambling. Her cheeks, already reddened from heat and fever, grow darker still. Humor feels strange after so long. But it feels good, like stretching a muscle I have not used in many years.

I do not take the moment to admire the nakedness of her body, though I’m sure I would enjoy it. Before my exile, I found thrill in taking life not freely given. I found thrill in taking many things that were not easy to obtain. But never taking a female who did not wish it. To me, females are a hunt that is only truly won when the prey wants to be caught. The flesh of a female is the reward of a long hunt, so I do not spoil what I may hope to gain.

I bend to her thigh and pull the venomous spine free. I press my mouth to her leg. She gasps. I suck deeply, tasting the bitter venom mingled with the saltiness of her blood. I examine her leg and see the veins beneath her skin tracing the venom’s path through her body. They extend up her thigh and past her stomach to the swollen mounds of her breasts. I curse, though not as deeply as I should. If fate will not provide an honorable way to save this female, I will dishonor myself.

It is not a decision I take lightly. Were it not for honor, I would have taken my own life years ago, or let a beast sink its teeth into me. But fleeing from life before it is done with you is dishonorable. As is taking an unwilling woman. . . But this is not the same.

She seems to realize what I must do at the same time I do. “Please, no,” she says.

“I will not disobey you in this. But know that if I do not pierce your skin where the venom flows and drain it, you will die.”

She bites her lip, eyebrows pulling together in a tangle of emotion. Then she closes her eyes. “O-Okay. . .”

I put my lips to the naked flesh of her stomach first. Using my teeth, I prick her skin and open up the vein. The panther within me growls and I am ashamed to feel myself purring, the vibrations running through my chest and into my lips and tongue. I continue sucking blood from her, swallowing it so she does not feel as though I am spitting her taste from my mouth. My own system is strong enough to handle the poison. I know I only fool myself though. The reason I do not spit her blood is because her smell and taste drive me toward a pure and savage lust that threatens my power to resist.

Her scent is otherworldly. I breathe it deeply. It wakes the beast within me, and I feel myself immediately on the edge of shifting. But I push down the primal thoughts that fight to rise. I do what I must, trying to think of other thoughts. I keep moving, managing to keep my mind from dwelling on what I do until I reach her breast. When I prick the underside of her soft mound, a few inches beneath the nipple, she flinches. I feel a vibration pass through her when my lips close around the wound and begin to suck. My hand moves toward her by instinct but I pull it back.

I pull my head back, examining the veins that are still purple. I open one more vein on the edge of her nipple and suck, feeling her grow hard beneath my mouth until the firm point of her nipple presses against the roof of my mouth. She squirms and then puts her hands up to cover her face. I hear her breathing growing heavier, but take no pride in this. I dishonor her and myself. And I dishonor myself further in the fever of my thoughts and my arousal when I vow that I will make her want this, to beg me for my mouth on her skin and my seed in her belly.

The thought surprises me, but I realize how badly I want it. I will make her mine. My lips will be the last that ever taste of her flesh and her fluids, the last to ever breathe hot breath on her skin. Any who disagree will be welcome to meet their death at my hands.

When I pull back, I finally see no more streaks of purple working their way through her flesh. She bleeds freely, so I bite my own wrist and trickle my blood over her wounds. The blood of a Primus has many curative properties. For some, it has little to no effect. But for most, it can grant a temporary boost in recovery. There is some risk, as I do not know how her species will react. Yet if I do not take this risk, her weakened body is very likely to relapse.

She watches me in silence, the skin of her cheeks bright red. I wonder if it means the same when her breed sends blood to the face as it does for the Primus.

“
M
y name is Pax
,” he says.

“What is going on?” I ask. My voice is weak and I still haven’t gotten over the embarrassment of how I reacted to his touch. I knew he was just trying to help. And I knew a guy like
him
wouldn’t actually be getting off on it. . . But the warmth and wetness of his mouth, the vibrations as he purred, even the pricks of pain had all sent waves of pleasure through me. It had felt
right
. Even though my brain told me I was being an idiot, it was like I knew this was the beginning of something. Something more than just physical attraction. He took my blood and I took his, and somehow I feel like we’re linked. It’s almost like I can sense him. But that’s stupid. . . Of course I can’t.

“Where did you get an equalizer?” he asks.

“What? Oh. This?” I ask, pointing to the silver device in my ear.

“Yes. I did not expect you to speak my language when we first met.”

The equalizer communicates directly with my brain and modifies my speech so that he will understand it. To my ear, I’m speaking English. To his, I’m speaking Prime.

“My sister is Queen Liandra of the Umani. Her husband, King Kato, gave me this. Your eyes are gold like Kato’s skin. Not like any other Primus I have ever seen. Does that mean you are a king or prince?”

He nods, eyes distant. “Once. Yes. I was king of the Toltek clan. But I cast off my rule and with it, my golden skin.”

I sense a danger in that moment, as if asking him why he was no longer king would not be wise. I’ve had enough danger for one day.“You live here? I thought no one could survive in The Dead Sea.”

“Live? No. I would not call what I do living. But. . . The reason I came here is. . . It will wait. You—” He trails off and then clears his throat. “I must take you away from here or even I will not be able to save you.”

“After what you did out there, I think you could protect me from anything.” My words send a chill through me. Is that what I want? To be some damsel in distress who needs a guy to fight my battles? Can I claim to be strong if I have Pax creating a protective shield around me?

Part of me still feels like the answer is no, but when I think of my sister, Liandra, and her binding with Kato. . . I can also see that it takes a strong woman to tie herself to a strong man. Maybe that is where my strength is needed—to tame him, if such a thing is possible. But one thing does seem clear: whether I like it or not, I
need
him to make it out of here alive.

“The cold of night brings strong winds. The winds bring the leaves from the West. They will rise. And when the leaves rise, the beasts come.”

“It seemed like they came anyway, before. How much worse could it get?”

“There will be more. Many more. Larger beasts and smarter too. They will use you to defeat me.”

Use
me
to defeat him? Does he mean that he would die trying to protect me? My heart flutters, making me feel suddenly too warm. When I look at him sitting across from me, firelight catching his blue skin, I can’t even believe that I’m alone with someone so
perfect
. Yes, maybe he’s on the dangerous side. Well, a
lot
on the dangerous side. But I can’t help feeling as though he is some vicious beast with a thorn in his heart. If I can survive his touch long enough to pull it free, then. . . What? Then he will
love
me? I doubt it. I don’t know if someone like Pax is capable of love, but maybe he could claim me. Do I even want that?

I nearly clutch my head in frustration as the whirlwind of thoughts refuses to cease. Stop thinking about possibilities and maybe’s and should’s, Mira. Just focus on what
is
. For right now, I just need to survive. And if I’m going to survive, step one is making sure this Primus male does
not
decide to leave me behind. Step two is surviving
him
.

“How long do we have?” I ask.

“We should have begun moving several minutes ago.”

I nod slowly. “I’m strong enough now. Let’s go.”

He looks uncertain. “The venom is very strong. If I move you now. . .”

“I’m fine,” I snap. Then I blush, lowering my voice. “I just, um. I might need you to carry me again.”

He nods, the shadow of a smirk touching his face. With great effort, he slides the boulder away from the opening of the tree, revealing a orange sky tinged with purple. The sun is setting. The thought fills me with dread. I try to imagine something that even Pax couldn’t protect me from. Whatever it is, it wouldn’t be good. I’m certain of that.

He carries me outside. Carefully, he adjusts me so that my chest is against his and my head rests on his shoulder. His powerful forearm and hand holds my calves while his bicep pushes my thighs to his body. Though I have a lingering achiness from the venom, I still try to kick him for handling me like luggage, even if his smooth skin
does
feel nice against me…

He uses a series of gently sloping roots to climb us out of immediate danger and into the relative safety provided by the trees and the branches that arc between them. Beneath, I can see the leaves rustling and hear the sounds of large things moving just out of sight. But every step we take brings us farther away from the leaves and puts my mind more at ease. Eventually, the root blends into the trunk and we have nowhere left to run.

“Hold on tight to me. Do not let go.”

I slide my arms around his muscular neck, pushing my face into his skin. He moves his hands to make my legs wrap around him until I feel my crotch pressed into his side. I’m completely terrified, but my body betrays me when the rhythm of his steps creates friction between us.
Really,
Mira? You’re running for your life with some jungle devil and it’s getting you
horny
? I get angry enough with myself to stop from the feeling getting
too
much hold on me. The sheer indignity of it is enough for a while.

But when Pax starts climbing and the motion jostles me into him again and again, the sensitive skin of my pussy bumping against his muscled torso. . . That doesn’t help. It’s not long before I can feel the slickness of my excitement seeping through against his skin. And the moisture only makes it feel even better. I clench my teeth, willing myself not to make a sound. Do not moan, Mira. Do not moan. This is
ridiculous
. But it’s just biology. . . If I was riding a mechanical gorilla and it bumped me the way he is, my body would respond in just the same way. Mostly. Okay, maybe not exactly.

When we finally reach the top of the tree and he lets me down. I try to discreetly brush my blouse against his side to wipe the moisture free. But must have noticed me soaking his side. I straighten my back and try not to meet his eye. Act dignified and you’ll forget it happened. . . But then I see the bulge in his leathers and lose any progress I’ve made toward stifling my horniness. I try not to stare, but I’m fascinated and even a little scared.

It’s
so
big. What would I do with all that?
That’s a no brainer
. . . When the shock fades a little, I realize that part of me, maybe a little more than a part, wants to be with him. It’s not purely a physical desire. It’s the idea of reaching through the crystalline wall he puts up around his emotions that excites me. Of making myself matter in the life of someone so powerful and so untamable.

W
hen we reach
a platform where it’s safe to rest, I motion for her to sit. Trees tower over us thickly and we’re on one of the many flattened roots that the Primus people use to build homes, towns, and even cities. The roots wind between Loris trees across the miles and miles of their height, creating a webbed skyline of broken sunlight and shadow. If we climb higher, I know we will reach a small settlement on the outer edges of Umani clan territory.

But my mind drifts from her safety long enough to remember the heat of her pussy against my skin. I can still feel the drying juices on my side. The panther within me growls for me to taste it, to slide my hand against my flesh and drink her in, to know her flavor. But I am not an animal. So I sit motionless, studying her.

Her face is flushed, which seems to be the case more often than not. When I look at this female before me, I cannot help thinking the gods sent this woman, perfectly crafted to fit my desires, to drive me from the path I had set out for myself. Maybe they really did. . . And who would I be to refuse a gift from the gods? No. As soon as I get her to safety, I will return myself to the task of seeking a worthy end. After what I did, what I allowed to happen. . . I do not deserve enjoyment any longer. The only honor is in finding death. And no female is going to change that.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Back to the Umani tribe. I will take you as far as the edge of its borders but no more.”

“And then what?” she asks.

“We go our separate ways.” I hear the words leave my lips, but do not believe them. I know it is what honor compels me to do, but I already feel the call to make her mine and protect her reaching out to just as strongly.

She twists her fingers in her lap, looking down. “What if I ask you to take me to your clan instead?”

“My clan. . . It is too dangerous. In the years since I left there has been endless fighting.”

“Well. Look, I’m going to be completely honest with you. All those people who died back there by the shuttle. Those were the important ones. I’m just a pilot in training. But this could be my chance. If you take me to the Toltek where we were headed, I could prove that I’m capable of doing what the Kolari ambassador was sent to do. I’ll meet with the Toltek leaders and establish contact. I just, well, need you to take me.”

I try not to smirk. The small female is fierce and dedicated to her mission, to preserving her honor—traits I have never seen in females of other species. For the first time in years, I feel as though the Primus I was before my exile is resurfacing. It is as if I had slowly buried myself beneath the leaves, one at a time, so slowly that I did not know it was happening. This female may be able to dig me out, but would I deserve such good fortune?

Maybe not. But whether I deserve her in my life or not, the thought of any harm coming to Mira is unacceptable. And ever since I sucked the poison from her body, something has drawn me even closer to her. I have heard the oracles speak of bonds forming when a male and female fated to be together exchange blood, but I always thought it was superstitious nonsense. It might still be, yet I almost feel as if I know where she is even if I cannot see her, as if I can sense her.

“No,” I say finally. “The Toltek are too fragmented. There can be no peace. You will only find death there. Or worse.”

She swallows hard, then shakes her head. “You can take me or I’ll go myself.”

Now I do not bother to hide the smirk. “Is that so?” I ask, folding my arms. “Then I wish you the best of luck. Toltek territory is that way,” I say, pointing to a barbed patch of hanging vines that would tear her soft flesh to ribbons if she tried it on her own.

She frowns at me, but stands, turns, and
walks toward the vines
. Shit. Stubborn—I run to grab her before she reaches the thorns, pulling her back. “What are you thinking?” I growl.

She shrugs. “I’m going whether you help me or not.”

“Through this?” I ask, lifting one of the sharply spiked thorns she was about to wade through.

“A couple scratches never killed anybody.”

I pause for a moment, trying to decide if she is serious. Finally, a barking laughter escapes me. It feels good to laugh after so long, to
really
laugh. At first I laugh because of her foolish but endearing stubbornness and then I laugh simply for the joy of it. When I look at Mira, her large eyes glimmer up at me, sparkling with humor and something else.

Mira laughs a little nervously and then snorts. She claps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. She looks like she’s about to cry of embarrassment for a second and then she bursts out laughing. The sound is infectious and when she snorts again, I laugh as well.

As our laughter dies out, I can’t help marveling at this small, star-skinned female who has already managed to move the immovable by steering me from my path of self-destruction. When I thought I was like a boulder rolling downhill and gaining speed, she is showing me that it does not have to be so. But it must be so. It does not matter if I would like to follow this path my life has offered to see where it may lead. My past demons still haunt me, reminding me that I do not deserve this happiness. Mira is just a painful reminder of how much I could have had.