Page 64 of Warlord's Mate

“You will this one.”

“I never said I would.”

Thank the gods for small favors.Marcy opened her mouth to reply but shut it when he started laughing.

“Don’t get too excited, little witch. Just because I don’t find your species particularly attractive doesn’t mean I won’t have you.” He looked down the line of her body. “Despite the sickly white color of your skin, you do possess the necessary parts.” He reached out and took hold of one of the curls dangling near her face. “I hear Jorrick finds you quite tempting.” He rubbed the curl between his fingers as he stared at it. “Tell me—what did he do when he found Aris’s hand?”

Aris?The sudden change in topic took her by surprise. She tilted her head to look at him. Was he trying to bait her? A look at his eerily creepy face said he was.

He leaned toward her and smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret if you give me what I want.”

“I’ve told you, I can’t—”

“—Oh, but I think you can.” He stood suddenly and held out his hand to her. “Come. Let’s take a walk.”

Touching him was less appealing than walking away with him but Marcy knew she had little choice. She stood without his help and motioned him forward with a nod of her head. He laughed before lowering his hand and saying, “This way little witch.”

He led her toward the trees. A massive alien that reminded her of a Rhinoceros took up a torch and led them into the darkness. Several X shaped structures like the one she’d seen earlier were nestled in the trees here. These held men like the other ones had had but not all of these unfortunate souls were hanging upside down. Some fared better than others but they all looked to be in the same poor shape. Naked and filthy, the stench of their own bodily fluids and waste left to dry on their bare legs, Marcy raised a hand to cover her nose and held her breath as they drew closer.

Not all of them were human in appearance and curiosity drew her gaze to nearly all she saw. Some of them weren’t compatible with humans. She averted her gaze and was glad she’d at least been taken by an alien whose dick hadn’t given her nightmares.

Allok stopped walking. Marcy glanced at him over the top of her fingers, her breath heating her palm. She glanced to the men hanging to her left. “What is it you wish me to see?”

“I wish for you to see them.” He nodded to the men with a slight tilt of his head.

Marcy sighed and glanced over, giving the men a quick look before shrugging her shoulder. “They’re beaten and defenseless. What of it? Is this what you plan to do to me? Is that why you’re showing me this?”

“No, I offer you a gift.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A gift?” He lowered his head a fraction as if to say, yes. Marcy looked at the men again, unsure what Allokwasn’tsaying. She looked at every man there, glancing at their faces in turn, before one made her pause. The light was low, and he was covered in filth but the glow from the torch shined on him enough to see a large section on his chest wasn’t caked in dirt and his skin held a golden hue. He was of the same race Jorrick was.

She lowered her hand and raised her head, taking a step closer to him. His hair was long and hung in his face. He was as powerfully built as Jorrick was and she wondered how Allok had managed to capture him. He groaned and tried to lift his head. This one wasn’t dead.

Marcy opened her mouth to ask Allok why he was showing her these men when the golden skin aliens hands caught her attention. Or rather, his lack of hand. His right one was missing, cut off at the wrist. Her heart thumped so hard inside her chest, her breath caught.

It hadn’t been so very long ago that the men in Jorrick's camp had mourned the death of Aris, a man she later found out was Jorrick’s brother. Was this him? Had Allok not killed him after all?

Allok stepped up beside her. “Give me what I want, witch, and you can have him as a gift.”

The rhino-looking alien grabbed the golden-skinned alien by the hair and pulled his head up. His eyes opened a fraction, landing on her an instant later. Marcy forgot how to breathe. It was Aris. Jorrick’s brother wasn’t dead. Allok had been keeping him prisoner all this time, and he was going to let him go. All she had to do was perform a miracle, and she was about to fail miserably.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The sun had lowered over the mountain by the time Jorrick made it back to camp the following day. The charred remains of the buildings still smoldered and the air hung heavy with the scent of smoke. The light coming through the trees was dim but he could see enough to know it looked better than it had when he left. The bodies of those who didn’t survive the attack had been stacked near the center of camp and more were still being placed there. Those that still lived were haggard, but it looked as if they were on the mend. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since any of them had eaten. He’d been ignoring his own growling stomach for the better part of a day.

“You’re back.”

Jorrick turned toward the voice. Jityria smiled at him from the edges of camp. He stared at her, noticing, unlike everyone else's, she was still clean. Soot didn’t cling to her skin or clothing like it did the others in camp. He’d not paid any attention to her when he’d first returned to notice how she looked but now he did, and she’d either bathed since the attack or she hadn’t been here when it happened.

The words she’d spoken to him upon his return still lingered in his mind. Her accusations against Marcy still whispered through his head and past betrayals were enough to make him doubt her but a voice in the back of his head told him that Marcy was nothing like Zasra. That she had not done the things Jityria accused her of.

Jityria limped toward him, the smile on her face telling. There was nothing here to smile about yet she came toward him as if all was right in the world. Jorrick walked away before she could reach him. There wasn’t anything she could say or do to help his current predicament so spending time talking to her was pointless. He headed toward the group of men he’d taken with him on the hunt. Those that weren’t carrying the dead to the burial pyre were off to one side talking. They stopped when he approached them.

“Warlord.” Zahk, one of the few with as much strength as he himself had, greeted him. “What is it you wish of us?”

The list was never ending but the time for demanding things of them was over. “You are free to do as you please.”

They all stared at him, confusion on their faces. Jorrick faced them all, turning to meet each mans gaze. “You have lived under my protection and I have failed you. Our home is destroyed, our brothers slaughtered. There is nothing else for us here.” He swung his arms toward the burned remains of their camp. “We can’t stay here.”