Page 2 of Snared (The Legion: Savage Lands Sector #8)
She appeared at the edge of the clearing, barefoot and wild, as if the jungle itself had birthed her into my dream.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns across her bronze skin that mimicked my own markings.
The Unity dream had never felt this real before—I could smell her, taste her in the humid air.
My kassari. My fated one. The one the universe had carved from stardust just for me.
The primal part of me recognized her before my mind could form her name.
She stood there, defiant yet vulnerable, her wild curls tangled with small jungle vines as if the planet itself was already claiming her. But it couldn’t have her. She was mine.
I stalked toward her, my movements fluid and predatory. My tail lashed behind me, betraying the hunger I fought to control. Her eyes—dark and knowing—tracked me without fear. There was challenge there, curiosity, and beneath it all, a hunger that matched my own.
“You’re real,” she whispered, her voice like water over stone. “I thought I was going crazy.”
The sound hit me like a physical blow. My ears flicked forward, catching every nuance of her tone. I wanted to memorize it, catalog it, keep it locked within me for the cold nights when I would wake alone.
“As are you,” I managed, my voice rougher than intended. The Unity dream amplified everything—sensation, sound, scent. And her scent…stars above, her scent was devastating. Like sun-warmed fruit and female arousal, with an undercurrent of something uniquely her.
I circled her, unable to stop myself from testing the boundaries of her comfort. Would she run? Would she cower? Many humans did, when confronted with what I was. But she pivoted with me, keeping her eyes locked with mine, her chin lifted in that delicious challenge.
“Do all cats play with their food?” she asked, the corner of her mouth lifting.
A growl rumbled in my chest. “You are not prey.”
“No?” Her eyebrow arched. “Then what am I?”
I closed the distance between us in a single fluid stride. My hand—so large against her delicate form—cupped her face. My claws were retracted, but I let her feel their presence beneath my fingertips, a gentle scrape against her skin.
“Mine,” I said simply.
Heat flared in her eyes. Her pulse jumped beneath my palm, the rhythm of it intoxicating. She didn’t look away, didn’t step back. Instead, she leaned into my touch, her body swaying toward mine like a flower seeking the sun.
The gesture broke something open inside me.
I dropped to my knees before her, the humid earth of the jungle floor pressing against my skin.
My hands found her hips, steadying her as I pressed my face to her belly, inhaling deeply.
Her fingers threaded through my hair, hesitant at first, then bolder as I nuzzled against her.
“I’ve dreamed of you, I think,” she admitted, her voice hushed. “Before this. Before now. But never so clearly.”
I looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her above me. “The closer we are in the waking world, the stronger the Unity dream becomes.” My hands slid down to her thighs, feeling the heat of her skin. “You are near. On my planet. In my jungle.”
A shiver ran through her as my claws extended just enough to scrape along her inner thighs. Her legs parted, an unconscious invitation that made my cock throb painfully. The scent of her arousal intensified, a heady perfume that clouded my senses.
“Tell me who you are,” I rasped, my voice like gravel against her pulse as I leaned in to taste the delicate skin of her thigh.
Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Miri.”
Miri. The name settled into me, becoming part of my heartbeat, my breath. Miri.
I nipped at her inner thigh, just a promise of what was to come, and she gasped, her fingers tightening in my hair. I let my tongue follow, soothing the small sting, tasting the salt of her skin.
“And you?” she asked, breathless now. “Who are you?”
“Lor,” I murmured against her skin. “Lor Pardus.”
Her laugh was soft, almost musical. “Of course it is.”
I didn’t ask what she meant. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the feel of her, the taste of her, the way her body responded to mine as if we’d been lovers for lifetimes.
My hands slid up her thighs, parting them further as I rose slightly, bringing my mouth level with her sex. I glanced up, seeking permission, though every instinct in me screamed to take, claim, possess.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips parted. She nodded once, a quick jerk of her chin that was all the encouragement I needed.
I pressed my mouth to her core, my tongue parting her folds in a long, slow stroke that made her cry out. Her taste exploded across my senses—sweet and musky and perfect. I growled against her, the vibration making her legs tremble. My hands gripped her thighs, supporting her as I feasted.
“Oh god,” she gasped, her hips rolling against my mouth. “Lor?—”
Hearing my name on her lips sent a fresh surge of hunger through me. I redoubled my efforts, licking and sucking at her sensitive flesh, learning what made her moan, what made her fingers tighten in my hair to the point of pain.
Her climax built quickly, her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. When she broke, it was with a cry that echoed through the jungle, her thighs clamping around my head as pleasure wracked her frame.
I eased her through it, gentling my touch but not stopping, prolonging her pleasure until she tugged at my hair, pulling me up to face her.
“Come here,” she demanded, her voice husky with satisfaction.
I rose to my full height, towering over her small frame. She didn’t seem intimidated by the difference. Instead, her hands moved to my chest, exploring the patterns of my markings with curious fingers.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, almost to herself. Then, meeting my eyes, “I want to feel you.”
I couldn’t speak. The need was too great, the hunger too overwhelming. I lifted her, her weight nothing to me, and brought her to a bed of soft moss that hadn’t been there moments before. The dream shaped itself to our needs, to our desires.
I laid her down, my body covering hers, careful to keep most of my weight on my forearms. Her legs parted, cradling me between them, and the heat of her against my aching cock nearly undid me.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hands finding my shoulders, her nails digging in. “Please, Lor.”
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her slick heat. The effort it took not to thrust home in one savage stroke was monumental. Instead, I entered her slowly, inch by torturous inch, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
There was none. Only wonder, and pleasure, and a growing need that matched my own. When I was fully seated within her, we both groaned, the sensation of completeness overwhelming.
“Mine,” I growled again, and this time, when I bit gently at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she arched beneath me, her inner muscles clenching around my cock in a way that made stars burst behind my eyes.
“Yours,” she agreed, and then her mouth found my own shoulder, her blunt human teeth closing on my flesh in a claiming bite of her own.
The Unity dream surged around us, binding us tighter, deeper, as we moved together in an ancient rhythm. Each thrust brought us closer, not just physically but spiritually, our essences mingling in the space between worlds.
When release finally claimed us, it was simultaneous and shattering. I roared my completion as she cried out beneath me, our bodies locked together in perfect synchronicity.
In the aftermath, as we lay tangled together in the heart of the jungle, I knew with bone-deep certainty: I would find her in the waking world. And when I did, nothing in the universe would separate us again.
***
I woke with a growl lodged in my throat and my cock hard enough to split stone.
My tail had wrapped tight around my thigh, seeking pressure, as if it could find her by instinct alone.
The Unity dream still clung to me like a second skin, her scent embedded in my senses though she wasn’t physically present.
Miri. The name pulsed through me with each heartbeat.
She was real, and she was here—somewhere in my jungle.
The primal part of me knew this with absolute certainty.
The primitive shelter I’d constructed in the upper canopy was bathed in the golden-green light of early morning.
Filtered sunlight penetrated the dense foliage, creating patterns across my skin that mimicked the dappled markings Miri had traced with such fascination in our shared dream. The memory made my fangs ache.
I rose in a single fluid movement, stretching my body to its full height. My muscles protested after three cycles of minimal rest. The fugitive I’d been tracking had proven more elusive than anticipated, leading me deeper into the heart of GL-7’s sentient jungle than any other quarry before.
The thought of the fugitive—a Cydarian weapons smuggler who’d crashed on the planet two weeks prior—brought a momentary focus back to my mission. I was a Legion Reaper. I had a duty. But that duty suddenly felt hollow compared to the pull of my fate mate.
I crouched at the edge of my platform, surveying the living world below.
GL-7 was unique among the charted planets—a sentient ecosystem that had evolved collective consciousness through its intricate root system.
The jungle wasn’t just alive; it was aware.
Thinking. Remembering. When Legion scientists had discovered this forty cycles ago, they’d immediately established research outposts to study it.
And when those outposts were abandoned after the Helixian incursion, Reapers like me were stationed to ensure the technology left behind didn’t fall into enemy hands.