Page 2
“And become your concubine? Your nobyo?” He shook his head sleepily. “That may be okay for Kyle, but it would never work for me. I’d hate it and probably strangle you in your sleep. ”
A nobyo was the term Tygerians used for their submissive love slaves. They were cherished and pampered and deeply loved, but expected to obey their mates without question. In addition, the nobyos raised the sons the Tygerians had with their females. Hundreds of cycles before, overpopulation had taken its toll on Tygeria, and in an effort to prevent it, males and females were separated into different quadrants on the planet, only mating through artificial insemination to have one or, at most, two children. To take care of their sexual needs, both males and females bought love slaves, always the same sex as their own to prevent unwanted pregnancies. They took these love slaves from all over the universe, with humans being the most popular.
His cousin Kyle had been kidnapped to be a slave by none other than Tarr Bonnet himself, almost a cycle before to be the nobyo of his twin brother Taz. Since Taz turned out to be Kyle’s mate—an extraordinary coincidence until you considered the true intricacy and evilness of the curse—he’d learned to live with it, and even acknowledge Taz as the more dominant mate. That was something Larssonknew he’d never be able to do, no matter how much he loved Tarr.
The dream Tarr chuckled, and Larsson could feel the rumble in his chest vibrating on his back. “Are you sure about that? Surrender all that stubborn control and give yourself to me,” the dream Tarr murmured, burying his face in the side of Larsson’s neck. And shit, was that his tongue snaking its way into his ear? Larsson sighed and gave himself up to the pleasure, sinking deeper into sleep as Tarr rolled him on his back and licked and nibbled his way downward.
Tarr Bonnet smiled as he read the message from his crew, who were waiting just outside the exosphere of Lycanus 3 for the arrival of the transport carrying Larsson and his cousin, Blayde. Their computers had alerted them to the passage of Larsson’s ship through the wormhole that would soon empty into intergalactic space nearby. It would only be a short wait then until the Lycan ship made it into the exosphere of the planet, and his men would then latch onto the ship before any alarm they raised could summon them helpfrom their planet’s surface.
Tarr planned on letting Blayde go as soon as his men had secured his nobyo, Larsson. He had no wish to incur the wrath of the Balenescus again, and he hoped that his assurances of Larsson’s well-being would be enough to hold them off this time. They knew that Larsson considered Tarr to be his mate—perhaps this time they would back off and let them settle their differences. He just knew he’d be able to seduce Larsson if given the chance. Perhaps he would even take him as his nobyo. Hells, who was he kidding? His greatest desire was to have Larrson for his own.
His own nobyo—funny to think of the beautiful, prickly Lycan that way. The word stirred a fiercepossessiveness deep inside him, like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d sensed right from the start that Larsson hated his attraction to Tarr, and would fight it every step of the way. His mind drifted back to the first time he’d ever seen him.
The Lycans had surprised him quite literally with his pants down. He’d been in the bar he owned in Leeria, minding his own business and fucking a handsome little Leerian bartender he’d only just hired the day before. When the door to his room burst open, the Leerian had been allowed to scamper away, but four big Lycans had crowded into the room, moving with preternaturally fast speed. They had fallen on him and stuck him with a hypodermic needle before he could summon up the adrenaline to shift into his tiger. As the drug crashed instantly and thoroughly through his system, he knew with sickeningcertainty that they’d given him a drug perfected on Lycanus to prevent him from completing his shift.
The Lycans were an integral part of the Alliance of Planets, at war with Tygeria for over a hundred cycles. Because of their large size and fierce reputations, Lycanus had been designated as the prison planet for Tygerians. The guards at the prisoner of war camps there had complained so bitterly about the difficulty of keeping the Tygerians contained that the scientists of the Alliance had come up with this powerful drug that kept them in their humanoid forms, the drug working somehow to prevent them from having enough adrenaline to effect the change. When he woke up after the attack in his bar, Tarr was lying naked, in a large cage, on his way to Lycanus 3.
He knew why, of course. He was to be used as a bargaining tool to get what the Lycans wanted. He should have known they’d want revenge for the kidnapping of their relative. He’d taken the handsome young Lycan as a birthday present for his twin brother, Taz. Taz had told him some time before to find him a handsome nobyo, suitable to help him raise his new baby. His wife was expecting the child in only a quarter cycle,and he’d need time to train his new boy.
When Tarr had first seen the handsome, strong young Lycan, he’d been very attracted to him. Lycans had always held afascination for him. He’d never really liked the idea of human nobyos—oh, they were beautiful, true enough, but represented no real challenge. It didn’t take a lot of skill and finesse to bend a man to your will when you were twice his weight and so much taller. But a Lycan—now there was a challenge.
Lycans had a reputation as being fierce and wild. They were almost as large as a Tygerian and they could shift into a kind of man-wolf beast, complete with vicious claws and teeth. If you could manage to bend such a one as this to your will, then you could call yourself a real Tygerian warrior. And if you were lucky enough to find yourself an alpha…. then the games could begin.
When he’d seen Kyle Balenescu then, he’d known right away he was perfect for his brother, Taz. He should have taken his crazy family, however, a bit more seriously. That’s what had put him in the mess he was in, and as he sat in the stiflingly hot cell, he regretted his impulsiveness.
Over the next few days, Tarr had been kept mostly unconscious, waking only briefly to find food and water inside his cage. They must have drugged that too, because once he’d drunk the water and eaten ravenously, he’d fallen back asleep again. He knew he shouldn’t eat any more, but he had no idea how long they’d keep him in this cage—he could tell he was still in space— and he had to keep himself hydrated.
The last time he ’d awakened from his drug-induced slumber, he’d been removed from the cage and was instead chained naked to a wall in a small cell with bars surrounding it on three sides. Behind his back was what looked like a thick stone wall. There was one tiny window up near the ceiling, covered by bars to let in light and also a great deal of heat. From the nearroasting temperature in his cell, he figured out what some part of his mind had been suspecting during his brief moments of consciousness—he had been taken to the barren, desert-like planet of Lycanus 3, a captive of the Balenescus.
He wondered just what they had in mind for him. If it had been mere revenge, he’d already be dead. No, they must want him as a hostage—maybe a trade for their relative. Smart. He didn’t know why he didn’t think they’d do this and be on his guard against it. Maybe because he didn’t think Lycans were all that intelligent. Now he was trussed up here in their cell and was pretty well disgusted with himself for underestimating them.
Tarr’s head ached— probably an after-effect of the drugs—and he had a raging thirst. He closed his eyes, only opening them the merest slit when he heard the door to the cell room open. His first sight of Larsson was his boots. A dusty, well-worn brown, they came right up to the cell door and stopped abruptly. Tarr heard a sudden, sharp intake of breath and raised his head curiously.
Gods, the Lycan standing at the door of his cell, his hand gripping the bars so hard his knuckles were white, was the most gorgeous thing Tarr had seen in a long time. He was probably only about six-feet-four or so, almost a foot shorter than Tarr, but his body was well-built, lean and nicely muscled.
It was his face that was most striking, though. He was young, probably only about twentyone or two
cycles, with the smooth, dewy complexion that only very young men had. He had a straight little nose, high cheekbones and full, luscious lips, and his eyes were the same deep red as all the Lycans, a shade almost like old blood. He made it look good, though. His mouth was hanging open a little in surprise, and Tarr wondered if the others had forgotten to tell him there was a Tygerian prisoner in here.
That couldn’t have been right either, because he was holding a bowl of some kind of food. Tarr could see the steam rising off it, and he had a bottle of water tucked under his arm.
The silence went on and began to be uncomfortable. Besides, Tarr wanted that water badly. He cleared his throat and spoke. “If that’s for me, I wish you’d give it to me. ”
The young man, who must have been a Balenescu—he had the look of them, though Tarr was sure he’d never seen this one before—just kept staring at him. He looked surprised, and Tarr began to get a little angry.
“What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a Tygerian before? I’d change into my tiger for you and give you a little show, but you bastards have given me too manyof your damn drugs. ”
Finally, the young Lycan seemed to shake himself out of it. He opened the door of the cell, still without saying anything, and brought the food and water over to where Tarr was chained to the wall. One big chain wrapped around Tarr’s waist, giving him enough leeway that he could make it—barely—to a waste bucket in the corner. In addition, his hands were chained in front of him, connected to another chain around his waist. There was just enough length to allow him to bring his hands near his mouth to eat. He had to pour the water into his bowl and lap at it like an animal, however, an oversight that he was sure was not an accident.
The Lycan placed the bowl of food and the water bottle within his reach and backed away, still staring at him. His body posture radiated extreme discomfort, and Tarr was curious about him. He seemed almost shy, and Tarr found it rather endearing. Shyness didn’t exist with his people, and he didn’t totally understand it.