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nine

Lenora

This time as we set out on Valoryx, Fafnir keeps a massive forearm banded across my waist. Well, kind of waist. The thing takes up my entire stomach and rests just beneath my breasts.

I’m pulled flush against his chest, tucked in deep to the wall of a male so tightly the bitter wind barely touches me.

This time before we set out, he’d shoved some kind of cosmetic cream in my hands, at first I’d thought to be offended, considered lobbing it back at him, but he'd explained it was to keep my cheeks from getting chapped, and that goofy warm feeling took over again.

It appears I’m at least moderately fond of the giant brute.

He’s… thoughtful and sweet. Although I’ll have to explain to him later, I can’t eat pizza for every meal.

Even I’d tire of that eventually. He’d all but gagged when I offered him a bite, apparently content with whatever unfortunate looking dehydrated rations bar he’d produced.

Even the tinge of sadness I felt when I thought about Mom and my sisters seemed balmed for the time being at least as he rode through the open fields.

He had, in fact, gone through the trouble of having more traditional Bhaurnul-style clothing made for me.

A lot, actually. Mixed with lavishly made human options as well.

My mouth had all but dropped open when he’d opened the sky-high wardrobe in the bedroom, filled with things for me.

I hadn’t been able to reach anything, but he was patient, showing me each piece and letting me pick and choose.

His brow was furrowing so deeply, I’d thought to jerk him down by the horns and smooth my thumb over the deep crease. I doubt that’d go over well, though.

Apparently, Bhaurnul women are far from modest. Making his pajama choice last night make more sense.

I’d gawked at the spring and summer options, finding most of them to be no more than animal skin lingerie.

Suddenly incredibly grateful I’d come right before winter took hold.

We can work up to those. I can’t fathom they’ll look very sexy on me when I’m heavily pregnant with a giant baby, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I wiggle and squirm, making another growl sound from above me. “Loosen the seatbelt Fafnir, I’m not going to fall.”

“You did fall.”

“ Yes , because I wasn’t holding on.” I squirm some more, fighting for even an inch until Fafnir’s warm breath tickles my chilled cheek.

“Female, I must insist you cease moving like that.”

My eyes widen as my body goes deathly still.

The steel press of his cocks against my back makes a tremble break out over my body that has little to do with the cold.

My mind wanders for a moment. It's only natural to be curious, right? Soon enough, we’ll be well acquainted.

I shift back, just an inch, just until he stiffens further, his fists whitening on the reins.

The heat coming from them is enough to make me melt.

If the warmth is any indication, I bet they’d be ruddy with need.

For me.

My cheeks flame, a shit-eating smile plastered on my face. I don’t bother hiding it, wiggling again before something that sounds like a stifled groan leaves him before he loosens his hold, finally allowing me to lean forward.

I purse my lips for only a moment before I sink my fingers into Valoryx’s long, blue tipped mane. My dull, dark blue gloved fingers look so pretty next to the vibrant color in his fur, reveling in the warmth and the deep, resonant purr that comes from the beast.

Just like Old Earth cats.

Just bigger and scarier.

Way scarier.

My eyes dart to Fafnir’s hand as it comes back, not to hold per se but to rest on the swell of my hip as a group of Bhaurnul males race past us, doing some kind of terrifying war cry in greeting.

There’s something so… possessive about the action, my thoughts are made of pure mud by the time we finally reach our destination.

My hands pass through Valoryx’s mane, forgoing the brush for the tiny knots and tangles, although I doubt some tugging would bother the large animal.

Not for the first time since we arrived hours ago, my attention slips to Fafnir.

Watching the expert way he handles the majestic nightmare beasts.

Apparently, their economy thrives off of something called war contracts , essentially pay-to-play soldiers.

It’s mandatory, like Old Earth drafts toward the end.

Every fit male must serve at least a three-year contract, if they survive it…

which typically they don’t. When it’d asked him how long he’d served before he decided to become something of a beast tamer, he’d ruffed out something that sounded like a “ for too long ” then decided that, or any conversation, was over.

I’d tried to help him with the others, but the giant lizard kitty underneath me hadn’t taken too kindly to that. Every time I’d approach them, he’d kick up quite the fuss. Snarling and swiping his paws at the offending party.

Attention hog.

So, we were exiled by a very annoyed Fafnir, grumping something about the fact that he should’ve left me home.

He hadn’t asked for my help in caring for Valoryx, or the others, but idle hands make for wandering minds.

I’ve got far too much my mind could wander on and none that would do me even a bit of good.

I’ve wiped down his hardened scales, brushed his mane and dotted on him like any good attendant at a space port spa would.

The terror has been sprawled out, lounging in the sun since we started. Dozing here and there, but always alert, always watching. Much like his master.

Their heads live on a swivel, and I can’t blame them for it.

Mandatory war sounds… horrific .

I know first-hand the things one's mind can subject you to. My chest seems to clinch in on itself when the memories of that night flood in on me. The way my sister’s screams had echoed for miles. He hadn’t meant for it to go that way. Dad would’ve never—

My sister wasn’t supposed to see that, but she did either way.

Cammi hasn’t been the same since. She needs help…

the kind that costs money. A lot of it. A groan leaves me as I clamber off Valoryx, forcing my mind elsewhere.

My thighs aching from straddling him for so long, but all that’s left is the fur on the underside of his mane, near his chest, then the cleansing bucket filled with some kind of mild smelling soap for his face.

I get the feeling this isn’t something that’s done daily, but more something to occupy me now that his beast has decided I can’t be useful anywhere else.

“Valoryx up,” I command.

Waiting.

The damn thing doesn’t move.

I scowl, walking around as he tracks me with lazy crimson and golden slitted eyes.

Bracing my hands on his side, I try to shove him over.

But yeah, obviously , that’s not going to work.

His tail flicks at me as if to shoo me away, but I swat at it.

Hiking a brow when his lips pull in a silent, lazy snarl.

It's incredibly illogical how comfortable and safe I feel with him compared to just yesterday. I’d done something right on that ride, perhaps too right considering the way he’s begun hoarding me like his favorite servant.

My eyes peek at Fafnir again, watching the toned expanse of his brawny arms as he runs another Sihlih through a set of commands and drills.

I point at them, getting closer to Valoryx’s face. “See that? You should be ashamed of yourself. ”

Giving his up command a few more times with only mild amusement in response has my irritation simmering dangerously close to anger.

Cursing him out feels nice, but he doesn’t know what I’m saying, so it’s not super satisfying.

I try to wrap my arms around his neck to haul him up myself; my hands don’t even come close to touching, so I can’t lift his head.

Not that I could either way, but he and I both are past being reasoned with.

He gently swats his paw toward my back as I turn, knocking me forward enough to stumble before he shakes his mane out, giving a giant yawn.

“War beast, my ass.” I grit between my teeth, searching the clearing and eyeing the enclosed training building toward the area where Fafnir is working with the others, when an idea pops into my mind.

“Fine, if you won’t listen, I’ll go back to the group.” I offer, not getting more than a few steps away before his thick barbed tail edges ever so carefully out.

I ignore it.

Until he swipes hard, taking my feet out front underneath me.

My breath is knocked from my chest, and my cheeks flame bright, already feeling Fafnir’s no doubt highly annoyed stare.

It's his damn mount that’s acting like a moody teenager!

Another slurry of foul words leave my lips as I shove myself up, stalking back toward Valoryx.

He watches me, ensuring he keeps his head down and not give me what I want.

I brace my back on his side, my feet planted on my ground as I push, holding my breath from the strain of it.

So focused on just getting him to move an inch, it takes my brain precious seconds to catch up when the brick wall I’m trying to shove over simply gives .

My back collides with the ground, making me hiss in pain, my bruised tailbone throbbing. It’s not until a mountainous eclipse blots out the sun that I wrench my eyes open.

“What have you done to my mount?” Fafnir accuses, his eyes glued to my sprawled form beneath him.

“What have I done?” I all but screech, pointing to my chest for dramatic effect. It feels good to have big feelings and get loud.

He rears back, his long hair plaited, slapping at the brand on his chest. “He’s being willfully disobedient. I raised him myself from a pup, fought with him for sixteen years and never, not once—"