6. The Big City

Lettie

I'm in the tunnel, moving through it with an increasing sense of excitement. I know Shan will hunt me down when he finds me missing. I have to find the captains as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the city is a known quantity to me. I pored over the surveillance maps we made. I looked out over it from the port windows. I paid special attention to the information the scanners showed. I know exactly where Sullivan is kept, and I even know that there's a servant"s entrance that can be used to get in.

Moving through the city without being seen is not easy. It is a somewhat busy place, but fortunately most of the saurians are far too consumed with their own business to notice me shuffling along. I have shaped the garment I stole from Shan up and over my head like a hood.

I think some of them think I am an ambulatory trash bag. Most of them don't look at me twice. I'm not part of what they expect to see, and so they do not see me. Saurians in Grave City seem busy. They rush from place to place with intense expressions, thinking of what, I do not know. I get the impression that anything outside their immediate sphere of influence is immediately ignored as being not their problem.

I do not know what they are so busy with, but it seems to be all consuming. There's not a lot of recreation going on. There are serious saurians doing serious things. Maybe that's just how this species is. Maybe they take themselves impossibly seriously.

I don't have time to delve into the depths of saurian society right now. I know what I need to know, and that is that they don't care about strange little humans scuttling along their paths.

I make a beeline for the alpha's house, following the mental map I have studied over and over again. I know there's a certain amount of security. I also know about the servant's entrance. Alpha Thorn is not often the subject of attack, at least not directly. I don't think even Wrath has the nerve to walk in and face him directly.

I stick to the shadows. I hide in the crevices. I move only when it seems nobody has noticed or seen me — and I make it all the way to the servant's entrance. It's almost too easy. I half expect to be nabbed on the way in, but I find myself in a kitchen that is largely empty aside from a couple of saurians in dresses who are tending large steaming pots of what I'd guess is meat.

They don't expect to see me, and so they don't. I make my way to the nearest staircase and I stealth up it. This is a big building, and I know there's a decent chance that I'm going to be caught before I find Sullivan. The halls are wide and decorative, with polished stone and the sorts of accoutrements you get in houses of power. It is bright and it feels nice. Much nicer than the underground Shan, Wrath, and the others live inside. It feels like a home for the good guys — though come to think of it, I've never been in a building for the good guys that had any good guys in it at all.

I pass trinkets and statuettes and other trappings of wealth that make my fingers itch with the desire to snatch them up. Piracy has become something of a habit, if I'm to be honest. The things on display here would all sell instantly at any one of a number of fences. I just don't have anything to hold it in. Should have bought a bag with me. Oh well. Next time, maybe.

"Sullivan?" I try whispering her name, not really expecting her to reply. It's more like a sort of magical-thinking homing beam, a hope that I'll find her if my intention to find her is strong enough.

And then I smell something.

Someone.

Until this very point, I had no idea I knew what Captain Sullivan smelled like, but in a house of aliens, the smell of a human is a tangible thing. I become a bloodhound, following that scent. I go upstairs, tucking myself into a little alcove as one of the servants passes.

He glances over toward me, but he doesn't stop.

"Filthy human scent all over the house," he grunts.

I scoot out from my hiding spot and keep going up. It makes sense they'd put Sullivan at the top of the house. Traditionally, princesses are kept in a tower. Sullivan is a natural-born princess as far as I am concerned. She's gorgeous and charismatic, and she has been taken by the saurian equivalent of a king. This place is like a palace, now I think about it.

It's not a good idea to let your mind drift when you're in enemy territory, but it is good to get a sense of your surroundings and the narrative around them. In this world, humans are fast becoming a kind of status symbol. We could become a currency if we're not careful.

I hear something. Soft tones. A sort of humming. It has to be her.

I open the door to the room where the sound is coming from, and see a figure silhouetted in a window. A wave of relief washes over me as I catch sight of Sullivan's shock of curling blonde hair and the profile of her intelligent, I'd even say wicked, face. She is wearing a very pretty dress and looking out the window of the room with an expression on her face that would best be described as winsome.

In this moment, every memory I ever gathered under her command comes rushing back…

Years ago…

"She's another mouth to feed, and she's useless."

I am shivering and holding what is left of my worldly possessions in a garbage bag. There is dried blood across the left side of my face. Some of it is mine. Some of it belonged to my father. I am the last of my family, the only survivor of a massacre carried out by the man with the shiny boots.

The voice sounds a lot like my father's, but it is not my father's. My father will never speak again. This is his brother, and he is speaking in harsh tones of rejection. He hasn't come out of the house, but I can see his shadow falling over my aunt. She is a diminutive woman, but she has a heart of gold.

I have come here, because it is the only place I know how to get to. It took me hours to arrive. I crawled out through the red, and I got it all over me. I wanted to wash it off, but I wanted to get out of the house more. I keep blinking every time the memory of what I saw when I came out from under the table comes to mind. The blinks make the thoughts go away for a moment. They come back, but I can blink them away.

"Please, Myron. She's got nowhere else to go."

"She's my useless brother's useless child, and I'll not have her here. She'll bring the authorities down on us. She has his rebel blood."

"She's family, Myron. We take care of family. What will the church think if we turn the waif away?"

The appeal to family does not do anything, but the threat of social shame does. My uncle cares very, very much about what people think about him. It is part of the reason he doesn't want me here at all. My uncle is a very rich man. The house I am shivering outside has ten bathrooms and a lot more bedrooms. I have two cousins, sweet blonde children several years younger than me. I can see them peering out the window, their round faces excited at first, but now they hold fear and confusion as the exterior firelight from the lamp my aunt is holding flickers across my bruised face.

My uncle's response takes a long, freezing moment. My teeth are chattering. I am more frightened than I have ever been in my life. I am starting to understand things no child should have to understand.

"She can sleep in the barn. I don't want to see her face. She looks like him, and he got what he deserved."

"I'll make you up a bed," my aunt says.

I go to sleep that night sleeping in straw and covered in my parents" blood. It is the first bad night of a hundred bad nights, the beginning of a nightmare that does not end. Having lost the protection of my family, and being at the mercy of my uncle's wrath, not to mention the bullying attentions of his daughters, my cousins, my world becomes very small and very dark.

I am left in no doubt as to my many deficiencies. I know that I am wrong, that I came from wrong, and that I will only ever do wrong.

Adecade later, I find myself on a space station. I don't know the name of it. It's just a string of letters and numbers that don't mean anything to me. I'm also drunk, and high, and hungry, which is a weird combination.

Ripped fishnets and a skirt that covers practically nothing along with a tube top are all I am wearing. It's what the men like. The men like to look, but they like to touch more. They grab at me without my permission. They think because they want me, I must want them. I don't remember ever wanting a man in my life. The touch of men repulses me. There's a hunger in it, a kind of filthy desperation that turns me from a thinking woman with some innocence left in me, to a piece of meat made for them to plunge themselves inside.

"Hey, little lady," one of the station rats says. Station rats are guys who come through these places with loads for colonies. They don't do anything really. Their ships pretty much fly themselves, but they collect enough currency to get by sitting in the pilot's seat and occasionally steering around a solar storm or two. This one has long, greasy hair, and is old enough to be my father. He's got a graying mustache that droops along with the rest of his facial features. He's not appealing in any sense. He smells like sour milk and alcohol.

"Yeah?" I look at him, trying not to let my instant loathing show on my face.

"You want to earn some currency?"

"Come with me," I say.

If I weren't a pretty young girl, he'd be suspicious about following me, but as it is, he follows me back to the stinking alley between the bar and the repair shop like a horny lamb. He thinks I'm about to fuck him at best and suck him at worst.

"How much for all your holes?"

He asks that crude question without the slightest shame. I'm not a woman to him. I'm not anybody besides meat to be used.

I reach up under my skirt, and he watches my hand with an expression of lustful, stupid enchantment. He doesn't like what I pull out from under there, though. It's a handy little stun-gun. I hit him with it, and I watch 20,000 volts run through him. He crumples like the sack of shit he is, and I start robbing him.

I take his credits card. I take his coin. I take the chocolate bar he was probably saving for a special occasion out of his pocket and I rip the wrapper open with my teeth and I start wolfing it down while still going through his pockets. He has a watch. I take that. One of the fences I see regularly will take it.

I leave the guy in the alley and wander off. My gait is unsteady, either because I don't drink enough water, or because I've been drowning my sorrows since I hit this station a week ago. They have substances here that make me feel ways I never imagined it was possible to feel. Euphoria, peace, happiness even. It's crazy. And the only price for all of this is money, which I can get from men like the one I just robbed.

"The whore stole my fucking money!" An outraged scream erupts from behind me.

He woke up quickly.

Usually I have some kind of an escape plan in mind, but on this occasion, I forgot that part. I've been getting sloppy lately. Not really caring if I get away with crimes or not. The first couple of times I robbed a filthy old man who wanted to ravage me there was a thrill. I was careful. I hid myself away. This time I didn't even bother to get all that far away from the alley.

"Oops."

I run, and it's not a good run. It's a long-legged, wobbling-on-shoes-with-heels-that-are-too-high run.

"Eeek!"

Someone grabs me and drags me into a ship. I find myself looking into the laughing eyes of a woman with bright blue eyes and wonderfully curling blonde hair.

"You seem like trouble," she says. "I like trouble."

With that memory running through my head and feeling the kind of gratitude you can only feel when you've had nothing and just been given everything, I rush forward and tackle hug Sullivan. It's not the best idea. She lets out a scream of shock that is way too loud and drives her elbow back into my midsection, winding me instantly.

"It's me!" I grunt the obvious from the floor. "Lettie."

"Lettie!" Sullivan's tone is scandalized and surprised and excited all at the same time. Her eyes are wide as she tries to process the fact that one of her crew has once again come for her. "What are you doing here?"

She grabs me up from the ground and hugs me back tight, kind of hard enough to wind me for a second time. I let myself sink into her embrace. I have very much missed her. Sullivan was the first person who made the universe make sense to me. She helped detox me and she set me up as a successful pirate in her crew. I owe her, and Raine, and the others my entire life. They're more than a crew. They're my family. This feels like coming home.

"What are you doing down here? And what are you wearing?"

She asks two very good questions.

"I know I look a mess, but I've come to extract you. We need to get out of here. Bad, really fucked up things are happening, and the Mare…"

"What about the Mare?"

"Suli!?"

A deep saurian voice comes from outside the room. It has to be Alpha Thorn. Makes sense. Sullivan did just scream like she was being murdered.

Sullivan's eyes go wider still. She opens a cupboard in the wall and without any further preamble, shoves me inside it. Moments later, the door opens and the saurian who must consider himself her mate enters. I can't see him, but I can hear the rumble of his voice as he starts asking questions. It is deep, and resonant, and holds authority.

I can see a sliver of the room through a few of the seams where the doors meet the wall. Sullivan takes a step back, and I catch sight of a very large, very rust red and orange saurian. I heard about this guy. The girls who tried to rescue Sullivan the first time described alpha Thorn as the scariest alien they'd ever met. I thought they were exaggerating, but even in the relative safety of the interior of this piece of furniture, I sense his gravitas. This is not a guy to be fucked with, and I am absolutely in the process of fucking with him.

"Who were you talking to, Suli?"

"Nobody. I mean, myself."

She's an excellent pirate, but she's not a very good liar. I cringe in my hiding spot, convinced that I'm about to be discovered. Sullivan isn't going to be able to keep up any kind of pretense. I can see her in my mind's eye, and I know that she's probably looking guilty as hell.

There's a pause, in which I can practically hear her squirming.

"Who were you talking to?"

The question is repeated, in darker and more serious tones. There is a gravitas to the question that makes me tremble. Whoever is talking to her, he does not sound like he has any kind of patience for lies. I wonder how he and Sullivan manage to get on.

"I do all sorts of things," she says. "Remember my brain is all… loopy. Sometimes I talk to myself when I feel lonely. It's been so long since I had anybody like me to talk to."

"I can ask Avel to bring Raine over if you need the company of your own species."

"I'd rather talk to myself and only myself than be in a room with Raine again. She hates me."

I groan, very softly. The captains have obviously not put their feud aside yet, and that is going to make extracting them so much harder than it already is. I would have thought that Raine sacrificing herself to try to save Sullivan would help them make up. Apparently not. Apparently, there's nothing that's going to repair their relationship.

That makes me sad. I don't know why they hate each other so much, though I suppose Raine has always disliked Sullivan more than the other way around, and Sullivan does sound sad when she says Raine hates her. Maybe there's some hope. Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe I'm stuck in a closet while my captain lies to her alien mate, and it doesn't really matter what I think. My only job right now is to stay still and quiet.

"I was coming to tell you that one of your crew was captured down here," Thorn says. "By criminal forces, I'm afraid. That is the bad news. The worse news is that she managed to escape and is now loose in a city full of predators."

"Oh?"

I palm my face. Sullivan does not sound like she is hearing this news for the first time. Her voice cracks slightly on the end of the word with the effort of trying to make it seem genuine. Again, this is really not her forte. She was always brave and audacious, at the cost of any and all attempts at anything like diplomacy.

"Wow," she says, continuing with the charade. "I can't believe it."

I stuff my fist into my mouth, knuckles first in the attempt to stop myself from groaning out loud in a way that will surely give my hiding position away. I cannot be recaptured this quickly. If I am to be found now, I will be in just as bad a position as I was with Shan. Perhaps worse. I don't know what this alpha wants with us either. I know he is keeping Sullivan captive like a bird, and I know that until she saw me, she didn't resemble the captain I knew and loved before. What will these saurians do to us if we don't start fighting for our freedom? What will we become? I think I already know. I think we'll be kept barefoot and pregnant in various rooms and cells, producing hybrids for their use.

"What do you know about this, Suli?"

"Nothing. What would I know about it? I'm just hanging around here with my damaged brain, wearing pretty dresses and looking out the window while being completely irrelevant."

She injects enough spice into her tone that his question about what she knows is derailed a little. That was a master stroke. Maybe she's not as bad at this deception thing as I thought.

"I know you are used to more activity…"

"I'm used to being the captain of pirate ship," she says. "I'm bored here. There's nothing to do."

Sullivan sounds petulant, and she's acting petulant as well, tossing her hair like a bratty little girl. She has a valid point, though. Everybody on the Mare followed her into the wildest adventures, well, right up until Raine made the argument that we probably shouldn't be shot in the head while shoplifting, and that our safety might matter.

Though she's a wildcard who got us into more trouble and danger than any of us can count, I've always found Sullivan inspirational. There's something about a woman who knows who she is and what she wants and doesn't care about consequences. I used to care about consequences very much. I used to be terrified of doing anything wrong. I used to feel guilt so crippling I wished I didn't exist at all. But she taught me guilt isn't even a thing. It's just a waste of emotions riding on the back of social expectations and most of the time it's useless.

She doesn't seem guilty now, though it seems to me Thorn is finding her guilty of a dozen little crimes. I'd say Thorn is about to show Sullivan what the wages of her most recent sins are. Sullivan doesn't look scared of him. There's a little smile on her face that looks to me like anticipation.

His voice changes along with her expression as the energy between them shifts. He takes another step toward her, closing the distance between them. He is so massive, and she is so small. The juxtaposition of their bodies is so dramatic.

"Let me un-bore you, Suli. Let me give you some of that excitement and pain you so crave."

I watch what happens next. I shouldn't watch, but how can I not? I can't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of me. I am so deeply curious as to how my captain holds her own against this saurian alpha.

"If this dress is too boring for you, then let me remove it. You've forgotten that clothing is a privilege with me, Suli."

He strips her easily, the dress doing nothing to protect her or even attempt to stay on her body. It feels wrong to see her naked, but there's only a brief flash of that before he tosses her down on the bed face down and picks up a whip that is disturbingly to hand. The alpha has disciplinary implements to hand in a way that is absolutely wild to me.

He starts to punish her, his massive form looking so outlandishly cruel as he whips the leather lash down across her cheeks.

Sullivan could stop her whipping at any moment by telling him that I am in the closet. But she takes the pain. She endures the humiliation, and she keeps my secret.

"I know you're hiding something from me," he growls. "I know you are still a rebellious, devious little wench."

The lashes look like they must hurt. Almost every one of them raises a hot welt on her cheeks instantly. But Sullivan is not trying to escape. If anything, she almost looks like she is enjoying it, lifting her hips so that her ass is closer to the kiss of the implement.

Tossing the tool away, the alpha mounts her like a beast. Is this how I look when I am beneath Shan? Do I seem as small and as breakable, and as terribly spread and filled?

Again, I shouldn't be looking. I should turn my head away, but there is something magnetizing about the scene. The next time I look, Sullivan's ass is bright red, her legs up and around Thorn's big scaled back. His powerful glutes ripple with the effort of his thrusts as he fucks her deep and long and hard and…

I try to cover my ears as they come, but there's something about the satisfied roar of a saurian alpha and the high-pitched wail of an orgasming human captain that really cuts through practically every aural obstacle I can find.

Ifall asleep in my hiding place, waking up only when Sullivan sneaks back with a plate full of food and a flask of water for me. I don't mention what I saw happening to her, and she does not say a word either. Even if these saurians deprive us of our dignity we don't have to deprive each other.

"I told Thorn I didn't feel well," she says, handing me the food and water. "Besides, they're looking for you, so that will be distracting enough to keep him and the rest of them busy for ages. These saurians are messy bitches, and they live for the drama."

"I thought we were messy bitches who live for the drama."

"We are," she grins. "That's why we all get on so well."

I take a bite of food and grab a swig of water before delivering the bad news to my captain. God, it feels so fucking good to be able to tell someone else my problems and know that she'll do something about them. I miss being part of a functional crew so damn badly.

"They're trying to breed us. That's what Wrath wants. That's what the saurian who took me did."

Sullivan's eyes flash with temper and outrage. "The saurian did what to you?"

"He… you know…"

Though the same thing has just happened to her, Sullivan looks furious.

"They're planning on catching the rest of the crew and doing it to them too. They want to use us as broodmares to make hybrids to… I don't even know what. I think Wrath wants a disposable half-human army. But he wants us to make them."

Sullivan is listening to me intently, her expression so calm it almost looks like she's not really angry, though I know her well enough to know that a quiet Sullivan is one who is probably about to explode.

When I stop talking, she asks me a question in a very even voice.

"Do you know why my ship is called the Mare, Lettie?"

"No."

Her eyes narrow further, and her tone takes on a kind of venom that does not bode well for anybody. "Because a mare will fuck you up."

I nod and smile, and feel a little bit better. I knew all I had to do was find the captain. I knew everything would start getting better once someone else was in charge. This is what I need. This is what we all need. Leadership.

Now that I'm feeling better, I can think a little better. "I know who the source inside the camp is, I think. It's the same one who took me. His name is Shan. I saw him talking to the purple one with wings that has Raine. What's his name again? A.. Avi…"

"Avel," she says. "Okay. So. They're all in on it. If we were all in on it, that would be easier." She stops for a second to think, then gives me a very serious look. "I need you to go and find Raine. We need to set up a meeting somewhere we can both reach. If you managed to get here without being caught, you can possibly get to her. Do you know the big bone chapel thing near the skeleton?"

"Yes!" I say. "That's where they were fucking on the roof."

"They… okay," Sullivan says, quickly refocusing. "That is where he works. I think he takes her there most of the time. So that's one place you should be able to make contact with her. If you find her, make a rendezvous location. It's hard for me to get out of this house, but it is a huge house, and she should be able to find a way to get Avel to bring her here. Then we can make a plan."

"I think Avel has my suit. Does Thorn have yours? We need to make contact with the Mare."

"I will try to get it back, though he's hidden it pretty damn well." She looks me up and down. "I don't know what the hell you're wearing, but it must work as some kind of disguise."

"It makes me look like a pile of rags in a corner, I think. They don't seem to notice me. I just sort of push myself against walls whenever anyone looks at me, and I take the little back alleys. This city has so many little alleys."

"It does," Sullivan agrees. "You know, you're probably the only one of us who can make this happen, Lettie. No pressure, but I'm pretty sure the rest of us would have been caught the second we stepped out onto the street."

It's not true, but it is nice to get a compliment and have my efforts appreciated. I know Raine said Sullivan was the worst, most irresponsible, outright dangerous captain, but I think she's pretty great.

"I'm going to go," I say. "I'll get to her as soon as I can. Don't worry, the Mare isn't going anywhere without her captain."

Sullivan smiles, and I think I see a hint of tears in her eyes. "Lettie, you're probably the only one who feels that way."

"I'm not. We regretted the mutiny as soon as it happened. Raine talked us into it, you know that. We were upset about the whole shopping center…"

"Raine was right to depose me. I was… I was a fuck up," Sullivan says.

"No, you weren't. You were perfect."

"I wasn't perfect," she laughs. "I was a terrible captain."

I don't like hearing that.

"We need you," I tell her. "The ship is in fucking chaos and we're all at risk of getting caught. They can see the ship. They can see us. We need you and Raine back, and we need to do it now. I'm going to go get Raine. And we're all going to go back to the ship and you guys are going to be in charge again, and everything is going to be okay."

With that, I jump out the window. Sometimes, you gotta make an exit.

I slide down the side of the building way too fast to be safe, but land safely in a big pile of trash which is there because that's the sort of luck I have. There's piles-of-trash people, and there's sharp-spikes-at-the-bottom-of-a-window-leap people. I'm a proud garbage person. Also, I saw it on the way in.

I scramble out of the trash and head off to the bone place with a real sense of urgency and renewed excitement. I've achieved something. I found Sullivan, and now I'm going to find Raine.

The building is easy to find, being a massive monolith of bones upon which I've seen a sexy saurian interlude. At this point, I've seen more filthy saurian sex than I've actually had, but it does make me feel as though I'm part of a very select club. Gives me something in common with Raine and Sullivan, both of whom I look up to.

Arriving at the temple of bones, I slip inside the doors which have been left slightly ajar. There is a hideous screaming coming from the interior, but I don't let that stop me. I have a mission. Fortunately, doesn't sound like Raine. It sounds like a saurian in a whole lot of pain.

The reason for that becomes immediately clear the second I enter the temple. Avel is standing on a dais with an electric-yellow rod in his hand. There is another saurian bent over a bench in front of him.

I watch, horrified, as that yellow rod sweeps through the air, making a bright arc that is quite dramatic to behold. The sound that the rod makes when it contacts the unfortunate flesh of Avel's victim is astonishing. There is a loud crack, almost as loud as a thunderclap, followed by a yowl of agony.

"Holy shit!" I gasp and draw back into the shadows, but a pair of eyes have spotted me. They belong to none other than Captain Raine, who was leaning against a pillar near the stage, her arms folded over her chest, and an expression of satisfaction on her face. Upon hearing my all too human sound, she whips around to stare into the darkness. I know she's seen me. I can feel it in the trickle of fear and adrenaline running through my body.

I've always been scared of Raine. She's much more serious than Sullivan, and much more dangerous. Raine is the sort to kill a man without so much as looking at him. The severity of her expression worries me. Obviously, her hearing me should be good. But it does not feel that way.

"CRACK!" Another gunshot-like stroke lands, followed by another agonized cry, and I am jolted back to a more present situation. This is a place where unfortunate creatures who don't follow rules are beaten. It has just occurred to me that technically, I am also an unfortunate creature who does not follow rules.

Raine starts making her way back through the temple. Avel is focused on the saurian he is beating, and the audience is likewise entranced and disturbed. Neither Raine nor I draw much in the way of attention as she comes back to see me.

She does not look pleased. She looks pissed. I am almost tempted to sneak back out, but I can't risk being detected by everyone else as well. I stay still, tucked away from saurian eyes which are universally focused on the one they address as Enforcer Avel.

Raine is taller than me, which makes it very easy for her to look down her nose at me with a haughty, all too disapproving stare as we make contact in the shadow behind the pillars while the sounds of rough discipline ring out all around us.

"What the hell are you doing here, Lettie?"

"I came down…"

"I gave orders to you all to stay on the ship," she interrupts me. "Remember? The last part of the briefing before we went to get Sullivan?"

"Right. But…"

"Have you forgotten what an order is, Lettie?" She interrupts me again, snapping every word. I've missed her so much. Not as much as Sullivan, or at least not in as much of a cozy sense, because she's fucking terrifying, but I'm still excited to see her.

"No, but…."

"Get back to the ship, now."

"I can't! They took my suit, and there's chaos on the ship, and the saurians are hunting us, and I tried to come and find the captains, and I found Sullivan, and she wants you to get Avel to take you to the house so we can all talk because the saurians can see the ship, and they're trying to capture us and breed us."

I babble the words as quickly as possible, before she can interrupt me again with another order I am going to have to disobey.

She takes a deep breath, her eyes darting back toward her mate.

"Tell Sullivan to get Thorn to invite Avel and me, and I'll come," she says. "And be careful on your way back. This is not over between you and me. You were given an order to stay on the ship. I don't give orders lightly."

"Raine!"

Her name is called in sharp tones by the disciplinary saurian who we both just watched whip the hell out of some unfortunate criminal. He has noticed her missing from her post, and he does not sound pleased about it.

"Get out of here. Now." She gives me one last growly order before going back to Avel.

She doesn't need to tell me twice. I scoot out of the chapel of bones and I start skulking back through the streets, keeping the hood up over my head, keeping to the alleys and shadowy ways, avoiding the eyes of any saurians who might pay attention to a human in their midst.

I've done this so many times before as a pirate that I start to feel quite safe, ironically. Familiarity starts to settle in as I pause behind barrels and boxes to allow passing saurians to go by. They all speak common galactic, which is a little odd for a city where aliens are forced to remain in port when transiting. We've actually docked there once or twice, but they started to get suspicious, and sneaking past security out into the city was almost impossible. We've landed the ship in a few places on the planet, thanks to the cloaking mechanisms — but now we know they don't really work, that leaves us with many fewer places to hide.

I keep thinking about that big building made of bones. Usually, big, scary species who make buildings out of their fallen aren't the good guys. I wonder if these saurians could be considered good. Then I remember something Sullivan told me a long time ago when I first started piracy and had some moral issues with the whole thing.

There's no such thing as good or bad, there's just perspectives.

It didn't really sound entirely true at the time, but it sounded true enough. Tigers hunt deer, she said, and it doesn't really matter to the tiger that the deer doesn't want to be eaten, because what choice does the tiger have? It's not bad for hunting, and neither are we.

I believed that for a while. I told myself that I was a tiger even though I spent all my time scuttling in the dark like a frightened mouse. Now I don't know what to think. There's something charismatic about these saurians, something that makes me want to trust them. But nothing they're doing is trustworthy. We need to get off this planet. We can't all fall for these super sexy alien masters. I'm worried that Sullivan might be beyond help. The way she was with Thorn… the way he was with her… I feel like we've lost her. I know she'll try to free us, but I don't think she'll come with us. I've never seen her so contrite, content, and happy before. I've never seen her soften the way she did for him.

Then, going to the bone church, that didn't give me much more in the way of hope. Everything about that encounter scared the hell out of me. I don't know who is more imposing, Avel, or Raine. Raine might actually hurt me if she gets her hands on me. Avel looks like he hurts anyone and everyone. If I had to decide who was worse, him or Thorn, I'd have a hard time…

"There you are!"

I shriek as Shan grabs me, looming out of the shadows like a vengeful beast. He gives me a little shake as he holds me aloft in front of him, my feet nowhere near touching the ground. I am so confused. How on earth could he have tracked me down here in the middle of the city so quickly? I am very sure I should have largely escaped detection. I was so close to getting back to the alpha's place and letting Sullivan know what the plan was, and now I have no chance of making that happen. I'm going to be dragged back to Shan's lair, beaten, and mated again.

"I told you what would happen to you if you ran away, didn't I?"

I stare at him with wide eyes, that black gaze searing deep into my soul. I was just trying to work out who I fear most, and in doing so I appear to have manifested the ultimate terror.

I can't get any words out. I'm horrified to have been caught for a second time by this alien with the black eyes who somehow seems to evade my senses every time.

"I had to run away. I have to try to escape!"

His expression softens just a fraction. I wonder if he understands the scope of the desperate situation I find myself in, a reluctant broodmare for an alien I barely know, the captive of a creature who intends to use me to further his aims.

"I can't allow it. I need you."

For a brief moment, I let myself imagine that he means he needs me in terms of loving me and wanting me, and not being able to live his life without me. Then that illusion fades in the realization that what he actually means is he needs me to keep himself in good standing with Wrath. He's going to whip me into submission because my obedience makes his life easier and allows him to continue with whatever agenda he's engaged in. I don't trust him. Trusting him would be insane. But there's some part of me that softens when he says even the slightest kind thing to me, or even modulates his tone away from the harsh, taciturn growl that he usually speaks in.

I look into his face, and having just seen two other saurians dominate thoroughly, a cold shiver runs through me as I realize I am closer to the poor wretch suffering under Avel's lash today. Thorn loves Sullivan, I think. He speaks to her with a certain tenderness and affection that acknowledges her worst qualities and still somehow celebrates her for them. I don't see that in Shan's inscrutable visage. I see a dark stare that could hold any number of feelings behind it, and I feel the sure knowledge that when he made the threat to punish me if I disobeyed, he did not do so idly.

A whimper rises to my lips.

"Please don't hurt me."

Shan

She makes that little plea, and I feel all the punitive energy drain from me. There's something quite pitiful about the way she looks and feels in my hand. Her feet kick a little as she dangles by the clothing bunched at the scruff of her neck. She's wearing rags made from my clothing, some of which I was somewhat fond of. They're all utterly ruined now.

There is so much to punish her for. I promised her before I left that if she were to run, I would make her regret it. But I do not like the fear she has in her eyes in this moment, even though I know I am the one who put it there.

I am glad to have caught her so quickly, before she could do any serious damage, or escape properly. I was very worried that she had made contact with her ship and had been taken off the planet. There would be no retrieving her then, and that would be a pity.

I tuck her under my arm without further comment, and carry her back through the streets to the hatch I used to capture her. Of course she was found within an hour or two. There is no corner of Grave City that is not monitored by the eyes of Wrath's spies. They told me she had gone to see the Enforcer Avel, which made me very much ill at ease. The last thing I want is to be linked with Avel. Perhaps I can somehow twist matters so any contact I have with Avel, if it is to be observed, seems to come from following up her meeting with him. There is no way to be sure that I have not been seen before. I like to think that I am keeping my affairs in order, but Wrath is the type to bide his time. There is always the chance that my double life is more common knowledge than I would like.

And now I have this human up in the mix. This fragile, troublesome, disobedient creature who very much has her own agenda. It was comforting to imagine that I might fuck her into submission, but I should have known that would be a limited effect, especially without any real discipline.

I am going to have to make her understand that doing as I say is not optional. Not because I want vengeance for her disobedience, but because she needs to be trained to be safe.

Lettie squirms and curses softly under her breath as we once again descend into the subterranean reaches of the underground passages that wind beneath the city. The light of day fades and is replaced by an electric glow that makes the rock of the tunnels seem artificial. Sometimes these passages seem exciting, like a protective respite from the world above. Other times, like now, they feel like descending into a unique madness governed by a reckless, dangerous creature who is too intelligent for any of our good.

Wrath has to be stopped. He has gained followers. He has gained wealth. His network spreads into the alpha's territory like invasive thorns and vines, wrapping their way around sensitive social nodes. Alpha Thorn has been aware of Wrath for a long time, but nobody truly appreciates the scope of his subterranean labors. He wants the human women for the same reason he wants everything: control.

My thoughts drift to the criminal mastermind I now seem to serve while the wriggling human woman under my arm reminds me of all the many dangers he represents to anything vulnerable or good.

Footsteps coming down the tunnel stop my thoughts and my instincts come to the fore. This is no place for an interloper, and an interloper I will always be. I brace myself for another social interaction that carries the weight of life and death in every word.

I recognize the creature coming toward us as soon as he rounds the corner. Chaos is a red scaled predatory saurian. He is one of Wrath's generals, and he does not usually run errands. For him to be coming for me means several things. It means reports of my presence in the city have been made. It means they have gone all the way to the very top of the chain almost immediately. And it means that my presence is about to be requested.

"Wrath wants to see you. He's not happy you didn't come out with us and ran off after the meat instead."

Chaos does not mince his words. The moment I discovered Lettie was missing, I did abandon the journey to the wilds to come back to the city to find her. I did not ask permission. Under Alpha Thorn's regime, that would have been unforgivable. But Wrath runs a den of outlaws. Being impulsive, following instincts, and ignoring orders comes with the territory more often than not. He won't be happy about the situation, but it will not be in any way suspicious.

"I recovered what I needed to," I say.

Chaos doesn't reply. He turns, expecting me to follow. I do, hoping that Lettie keeps her mouth shut for the duration, as this will be an interview with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Wrath is waiting in his war room. He looks as he usually looks, dangerous and yet self-contained. He wants an explanation, naturally.

"How did she escape from a locked and barred room, Shan?"

"She triggered my safe's detonation, recovered her suit, and used the tools therein to disguise herself while she travelled out of the burrows." I tell a lie that is mixed with the truth. It is the best kind of lie, one that has the flavor of realism in it.

Wrath stares at me for a moment, then laughs aloud. "Is that so? These humans are more intelligent than they seem."

"This one is. I can't speak for others. This one does whatever it wants, whenever it wants."

He laughs, enjoying rebellion for rebellion's sake. Wrath is a strange leader in that respect. Somehow he is both completely dominant and utterly reckless. It is easy to fall under the spell of his charisma. His dominance is very different from that of Alpha Thorn. Wrath rules over the roiling, chaotic underworld with a light touch and a heavy fist. We all know that if he stops laughing, real trouble is on the way.

"She tried to get to the alpha's mate and the enforcer's mate," I add. "These humans are going to keep trying to get their captains. They obviously know where they are."

"That one under your arm should be questioned," Wrath says.

"She won't tell you anything. She's resistant to good sense."

He laughs again. I know he enjoys dealing with chaotic creatures. I am sure that is at least part of the reason he wants the humans under his control. The greater reason is he sees them as a limited resource, and he'd rather they belonged to him than anyone else. I believe that the breeding side of things is something of a red herring. He likes it because it's twisted and regarded as wrong. I've had a lot of time to observe Wrath, and what I've learned about him is that he's the pure embodiment of criminality. He does things because they're wrong, and he revels in the wrongness of them. The more perverse the act, the greater his drive to do it. He will sacrifice anything in order to commit crime, including himself. Every saurian in this underground bunker is risking their lives to follow a madman — and it is the madness that they find appealing. Even now, standing in front of Wrath, I feel myself getting caught up in his charisma.

"You missed out on some excitement today when you abandoned our mission in favor of your own," he says, addressing me directly. "Where we are moving, no alpha will be able to tread. Thorn would shit himself if he were to find himself in the territory we have scouted. We are going to build a new city, founded not in the grave of an ancient beast, but in the living shadow of the primal."

"But the primal is aggressive and destructive. The only reason Grave City survives is because it instinctively respects the domain of the dead."

Lettie pipes up with her interpretation of the situation, which happens to be entirely accurate. She, or perhaps all the human crew, have put some real thought and effort into understanding the way our society works. She knows just enough to be dangerous, triggering Wrath's annoyance.

"We are not going to live like maggots crawling around the sockets of a moldering corpse. We are going to live free and bold. We are going to live as our ancestors did, in the very path of the primal."

He's going to get us all killed. There is no way to survive the monstrosities that roam the exterior of the city. Few have ever seen the primal, because few have the nerve to wander those wild lands. There was an outlaw bar that was destroyed by the first human arrival, and that is being rebuilt on orders of the alpha, which one might consider odd if not for the fact that Thorn likes to outwardly keep a friendly relationship with Wrath.

Thorn does not like conflict in his city. He understands that there will always be a criminal element, and that it is better to control it and be as close to it as possible. Better to have Wrath keeping the underworld under his thumb than to have dozens of splintered criminals all acting out in an entirely unmonitored way. But there's a real problem with that approach, and that's the fact that when your underworld boss starts getting ideas about taking over entirely, when his network starts to rival your forces as alpha, and when his moves are bolder, braver, and wilder than any you can make… things start to get dangerous. Not just for you, but for everybody.

"I think I'd better get this one contained," I say. "Keeping a hold of her is one thing, but I don't want her hearing too much. These humans make pretty adept spies."

"Your room isn't secure, is it? We'll have to find somewhere safer to keep her, won't we?"

He has a point. And I know that my room will be searched, if it hasn't been already, and the tunnel she used will be discovered. That alone isn't damning. There are tunnels everywhere. And by now, Avel should be more than well enough aware to stay clear of that rendezvous point. I take a breath, not too deep. I don't want to look stressed.

"I think that little visit to the wilderness is overdue," he says. "I think you should bring your human with you."

There's no getting out of this. I have to go to the wilds, and I have to take Lettie with me.

"Agreed," I say. "But I need a word with her first. A private one."

With that, I carry my human mate back off to what is left of my private sanctum, now a charred, ransacked, and entirely compromised room. That doesn't matter now, though. All that matters now is giving her the discipline she sorely deserves.

"Please don't hurt me. Please let me go. Please…"

She is begging me for mercy, and there is some part of me that wants to grant her wishes. There is a greater part that will never let her go under any circumstances. She is mine. She has been wrapped around my cock, she has embraced me with her hot, tight human grip, and she has taken my seed inside her. There is some chance that she is already brimming with new life — with the life I planted in her. I won't let her go.

"Quiet," I growl, slapping her ass.

I could lecture her more, but I find the fewer words the better. I will make her beg for mercy again, but first I want to know exactly what she has been up to.

"Why did you go and see Enforcer Avel?"

"I didn't go to see Avel. I went to see Raine. Maybe it looked like I was going to see him, but that's only because he has one of our captains," she says, her eyes still wide with that same fear. "I need to get the captains back so we can leave this planet. It's not good here. I don't want to have a dinobaby. I'm not ready to be a mother. I don't have any schools picked out. I don't know what my favorite names are. I don't even know how to do a diaper. This baby would have a mother that doesn't even know the most basic things about babies. I don't think I can eat cheese. Or can the baby not eat cheese? When do they get cheese? I don't know…"

She is babbling, but it hits me in that moment that she is not merely something to take and impregnate without any consequences. She is intending on mothering her child. She is not intending on abandoning an egg somewhere and never thinking of it again the way my mother must have — the way most saurians do.

She emits a small squeak as I draw her up into my arms in a rare for me embrace. I hold her tight, feeling the soft fragility of her form against my own rougher, harder body.

"You are a good girl," I murmur in her ear.

Lettie

He calls me a good girl and I fucking melt.

Those are the words I didn't know I was waiting for, an affirmation of my worth to him. I wouldn't have thought he would consider me such, given I escaped immediately after he told me not to, but I'll take praise where I can get it.

It has been a very rare occurrence in my life to be told that I am good. Complimentary, approving energy is so seldom experienced that when I get so much as a taste of it, I lap it up. I would lick it off broken glass, if that was how it was delivered.

My breath hitches, and when it comes back, it comes with a little sob. There are tears flowing down my cheeks, and I realize I am crying just because he said something nice to me.

"Have I upset you?" He draws back, his brows quirked over those dark eyes that remain inscrutable to me.

"Why am I good?" I sob the question. I don't know what prompted his praise, and I wish I did, because I would do that thing a hundred times over if it meant feeling that rush of rare relief from an almost constant guilt paralysis that I sometimes forget about because it's the water I swim in.

"Because you care about this possible infant."

"Of course I care! It would be my baby. And it would not be Wrath's slave, I can tell you that much. If I were pregnant, I would get as far as possible away from this place where you all think that making some under-race of hybrid saurians is a good idea."

It is bold of me to tell him that. Probably a dangerous admission. I don't know why I said it. I wish I hadn't said it.

He smiles and presses his lips to my forehead in a gesture of comfort that is almost as alien to me as he is.

"You don't have to like what is happening, Lettie. But you do have to obey me."

I'd almost believe him, if I hadn't spent my entire adult life engaging in piracy. I love it when he calls me a good girl, but I'm not going to be good.

I'm going to be very, very bad.

"I have to deal with you," he rumbles. "You might be good, but you were naughty today."

Something about the diminutive use of naughty makes me want to squirm. There is warmth in his disappointment and judgement. I am in trouble, and I am going to be very sore as a result, but there is no true harshness or loathing in his tone or being. I know very well that Shan and I are linked in a way I've never been linked before. I'm safe with him, even though I am in trouble with him.

"I told you not to run away earlier today, and you did. So I am going to give you a reason not to so much as think about disobeying me again. I can't risk it, but I can stop you doing it again."

I draw away from him, but I know that won't change what is going to happen. Shan looks determined, and that is bad for me.

He reaches for me, and I draw back again. It's a little bit of a game. A silly game, a little test that is designed to see just how stern he will be with me. I don't know why I am pushing my luck so much. I want him. I want all of him. I want his harshness and his dominance and his punishment and his… cock.

"Stay still," he says. "I don't want to chase you down. If you make me, I promise you it will hurt more."

Even as he says those words, he reaches out, grips me before I can move away again, and pulls me over his lap, pinning me in place. It is all too easy for him. He is just so much more physically adept. For a moment, I am reminded of the state I saw Captain Sullivan and Raine in. I am just as they are. I am helpless (and wet) in the hands of a saurian.

SMACK!

A lash comes down, leather harsh against my tender skin. I am not used to being punished, and the small amount of time I've spent with Shan has not been enough time to adjust.

"Fuck!"

I'd forgotten how much being punished can hurt. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I thought it might be fun to tease him a little before he started spanking me. I was distracted by the hug, and by the warmth between us. I didn't think about how Shan is still very much capable of truly punishing me even in his warmest, most tender state.

I wail. For a moment, I resist crying, but as that infernal thing lands time and time again, I give up any attempt at trying to remain stoic. What's the point? He may as well know that he is hurting me. There is nothing to be gained from making him imagine I am immune to pain. My strength is, or was, stealth. I am not one to put up a good and steady resistance once caught.

I wail and writhe, my thick legs kicking against his hard saurian thighs as he whips me painfully. Every new stroke of the lash makes heat blossom through my skin and flesh. My mind is also suffering under this punitive onslaught. I feel small and I feel bad. There is something about the way he conducts this entire affair that leaves me with the most intense guilt.

I should have been more careful. Maybe I should have obeyed him. Maybe it would have been better to stay sitting in that room, waiting for his return. I haven't gained anything by finding Sullivan and Raine. I didn't get the message back to Sullivan, so they're still as separate as they were before.

There's not a lot of room for thought in this position, with the rain of discipline still falling on my ass. He's making it hard for me to do anything other than be punished. As I give into the spanking, I give into simple submission too. I followed Captain Sullivan and then Raine, and then they allowed themselves to be captured, and now a new authority figure has me.

"You're aroused," he says, his tone thick and gruff with an equal energy. "I whip you until you are red and swollen, and yet you have the nerve to secrete your arousal all over my leg, marking me with your desire. That should earn you even more punishment, for such a slow learner."

His lecturing is harsh and stern, and I don't know if he is serious. Does he know that I can't help my physical responses? Or does he think I am choosing to get horny to distract him or some such thing? It's too embarrassing to even try to explain.

"It's not my fault!" I end up whimpering some kind of excuse, because I'm scared he will think that I am doing this on purpose.

"What isn't your fault? The fact that you disobey and then prepare yourself to be mated the moment you are taken to task?"

"It's my body. I can't help it."

"Then it is your body that relishes disobedience and discipline. It is your body that craves this mastery and punishment."

He sounds almost poetic, which is very unlike him. He is still keeping a tight hold on me with the grip of his powerful fingers, some of which are splayed across my sore ass and others of which are at the back of my neck, all of which are keeping me under control.

He picks me up, tosses me down on the bed and I hear the sound of his cock being freed. I know what comes next. I know I deserve to be fucked hard. I know he will give me exactly what I deserve.

His alien hands spread my legs wider and pull me up and back against him. I dangle from his grasp, feeling like little more than a punished, limp, needy hole waiting to be filled.

I do not have to wait long. I feel the thick head of his penis run the length of my slit and then a moment later, he surges inside me, scaled inches spreading my tender walls wide.

"I'm going to breed you," he growls in my ear as he fills me up. "I'm going to fill you up with my seed, and I am going to make you the vessel of more than my desire. I am going to make you the vessel of my young. You are going to swell with new life. You are going to bring forth my baby."

His words are so passionate and intense, and his body is so completely in control of mine. We are more than connected. We are becoming the same thing, joining together in the ultimate act of creation.

What I want doesn't matter in this moment. What he wants doesn't matter either. We're in the grip of a unique madness that had driven all life since the very dawn of time. We are blending and bonding, we are coming apart at the seams and we are coming back together with every surging thrust that rewards us with intense pleasure.

He has such easy mastery of my body that he is able to turn me around on his cock while still inside me. I am screwed around his rod as he pulls me around to face him, lifting me up against his chest. He fucks me so easily in this standing position, making me take him as deep as I can.

"You're mine," he growls. "And you're going to have my baby, do you understand? This tight little human hole is mine to breed."

His passionate words of animal possession make me want to come. I can feel my body responding, my natural lubrication slicking his thick mating rod as he pushes it deep inside me over and over again. I am participating in my own breeding. I am giving myself to him. I am making myself open. I am wet. I am helpless.

"I am going to commmmmmmmmeeee…." I moan the word in an extended wail as Shan picks up the pace, gliding me up and down his cock with a powerful pumping motion. My pussy muscles are working as hard as they can to milk him, my hips grinding to make the motion more intense. I am desperate for climax, and for his seed.

And I am rewarded swiftly for my carnal efforts.

"YES!" Shan growls as he thrusts deep, pulling me as close as he can, pushing the head of his alien cock all the way to the tender entrance of my womb. My inner walls are pulsing and squeezing, sucking his seed as deep as it can go, encouraging the results of our tryst into my fertile interior.

He keeps me there for a long, mutually trembling moment. I can feel his release inside me and I know that I have just been thoroughly bred. Shan holds me close, rubbing his hand over my back, caressing me and soothing me and keeping me full of every bit of his cum.

"Good girl," he murmurs, laying me down on the bed.

I think it is over. I am so warm and so cozy and so sleepy. I hear him have something to drink, and then I feel the bed go down as he lies down beside me. What I don't expect is the way he picks me up and lays me down on his chest.

It feels nice to be held that way, my legs splaying naturally over his sides, my pussy leaking a mixture of his seed and my own need.

A few minutes go by, and I am almost asleep. My mind is drifting happily in a well-fucked haze.

Then I feel him slide me down. Back onto his cock.

He sheathes himself inside me and starts to fuck me again. There is an ache inside me that makes me whimper a little, but Shan spreads one hand over my punished cheeks, and uses the other to grip my hair and makes soothing little sounds.

"Shhh, human. This is how breeding is done."

"But it hurts," I whimper.

"I know," he says, just a hint of saurian sympathy in his tone. "Your poor human pussy is going to be fucked so full of my come you're going to be sore for days. But that's what happens to naughty runaways who try to evade their breeding. They get mated back to back, over and over."

I feel dark excitement run through me as I realize that truly is his plan. He is going to fuck me repeatedly. He is going to fill my sore pussy with his seed as many times as it takes. And that is all I am going to be able to do - take it.

Shan

I slow the rolling of my hips just a fraction on the third mating. The second she was good for. She knows her place. She knows she is supposed to be fucked and full of come. But she is also only human, and after her second orgasm she starts to sniffle just a little.

"Does it hurt, little human?"

"Yes," she whimpers.

"Do you think it was a good idea to run off and try to find your captains when you know you should have been here, ass up, waiting for my cock to fill you again?"

"So mean," she complains softly.

I feel her pussy gripping me though. I know she likes it when I speak to her this way, and when I use her in this manner. She truly was made to be fucked. That is not simply something I am saying. Her entire soft, curvy body is the perfect vessel for carnal use.

So I continue to mate her. I keep sliding my cock in and out of her ravaged, dripping, soaked sex. She is not as tight feeling now as she was. She is stretching for me, and all the seed I have pumped into her has lubricated her from her outer lips to her tender depths.

"This is what happens to little runaways," I remind her. "They have their naughty pussies fucked until they are so sore and sorry they never think of being disobedient again."

"Mnngghhh…" she moans, and I know she is going to come again. She can't help herself, this filthy little fuck toy. I will show her mercy soon. But not yet. First I will show her how hard it can be, and how merciless my mating can be. Instead of slowing down further, I pin her on my chest and I fuck her rough and hard, enjoying her shrieks and screams as my thick alien cock plunders her pussy for a third time. The sounds of wet claiming fill the room almost as much as her wails do until finally my roar covers it all, and a third dose of hot saurian seed fills her body.

"Good girl," I purr as she gasps and sniffles against my chest. "That's right. Let it all sink in. Let that hot little human body be impregnated. You've been very well bred, haven't you my rebellious mate?"

The only response I get is a full body orgasmic shiver. Oh yes. She is very well bred indeed.