Chapter 10 Markus

Syra tells me to listen, so I listen.

Then I hear.

I hear the sound of Syra's heart beating madly inside her chest, racing with a sense of fear that has nothing to do with the state our two bodies are in. I can feel her heartbeat too, feel it pulsing in the walls of her vagina, repeatedly squeezing my hard cock and the even harder knot that is now tying our bodies together. I can hear her breathing, even though she's trying to keep it quiet. I can hear it echoing off the crypt-lined walls of the ancient mausoleum, which is gradually filling up with multi-colored light.

But louder than all these things, I hear the howling of a dozen hungry alphas. From the sound of it, they are just outside the cemetery gate.

A moment later, this thought is confirmed by the sound of clanging metal and the rattle of a chain. I can't tell if the alphas are trying to break the gate or climb it, but I know what Syra and I must do.

"We have to go," I say. "Now."

"Markus, what about…?"

Syra doesn't finish her question, but I know what she's asking about. My knot, which is still swollen inside her, binding our two bodies into one inseparable whole.

In truth, it is not my knot—it's ours. The rim of Syra's entrance is cinched incredibly tightly around the base of my cock, and that is doing just as much to lock our bodies together as my own enlarged gland. An omega's body does not always respond in this fashion to an alpha's knot. I've been told it only happens when the omega senses that the alpha in question is her true mate. Under other circumstances, that fact would fill my heart with joy. At the moment, it only adds to my anxiety. Syra is my mate, and I must protect her at all costs.

But that's going to be hard to do with our bodies knotted together.

It also doesn't help that the sleeping medicine is still working its way through my system. Its effects have lessened enough for me to wake up, but my mind is still hazy, and my muscles feel sluggish and weak.

I try sitting up, but it doesn't work. I need my arms for this, as well as my legs.

"Hold onto me," I tell Syra, adding a growl of command to my voice. It is not how I would ordinarily talk to her—I know how much she hates the idea of being an obedient omega—but right now I need total cooperation.

I get it.

She hooks her arms beneath mine and digs her nails in like she's holding on for dear life. It allows me to roll both of us over, so she's on her back and I'm on top of her. I sense her discomfort at this switching of roles, but at the same time, the walls of her pussy seem to squeeze even more tightly around my cock, milking a fresh surge of fluid out of my balls. My eyes roll back in my head as the orgasm throttles me.

"Markus!" Syra hisses beneath me. "What are you doing? This is no time for—"

Her voice trails off as a climax of her own robs her of the power of speech. I can feel her tiny body shuddering and quaking beneath me as she comes.

"Sorry," I grunt. "Just hold on."

Summoning all of my strength and willpower, I push myself up onto my hands and knees. I manage to get one foot beneath me, then the other, and I stand up. My cock is still buried in Syra's wet heat, and her legs are hooked about my waist.

"Can't you make it stop?" she asks. "Can't you make your knot go away?"

"I wish I could." I don't bother to mention that her own body is equally responsible for the way our bodies are bound together. There's no point discussing that now. Not while the howls are growing louder and louder outside. We're going to have to run, and we're going to have to do it like this, with our bodies knotted and locked. "Just hold on, Syra. And whatever you do, don't let go."

She nods in agreement. Her thighs tighten around my waist. Her nails dig even harder into my back.

As I start to move, I feel her let go with one of her hands. A second later, I realize why.

Syra has grabbed her spear, which she had left leaning against the wall last night.

It's not the worst idea ever. With that spear, she can fend off any alphas who might be closing in on us from behind. I hope it doesn't come to that, but I fear it might, considering my weakened state, and the awkwardness of trying to run while I have an omega on my knot.

I abandon the rest of our belongings and flee down the main corridor of the mausoleum. Ordinarily, I would not run from a fight, but right now all I care about is protecting Syra. My reputation as a fighter doesn't matter. I know what I am capable of.

The howling is really loud now. It sounds like some of the alphas have made it over the gate.

"I thought we would be safe here!" cries Syra.

I thought so too. I thought no alphas would dare to desecrate the sleeping places of the ancestors. Then again, that didn't stop me and Syra from hopping the fence last night. Perhaps it was foolish to think others would not do the same.

But I have an uncomfortable feeling that the alphas howling outside are not from the Central Ruins Tribe.

I head for the back of the mausoleum. I rarely use the door on that end, but I thankfully had the foresight to check it the first time I came to this place, so I know it is unlocked, and it will yield to bodies.

"Door!" I tell Syra.

She understands, and holds on even tighter as I charge forward. She gives a little gasp as her butt slams into the push bar, and the door flies open. I catch a faceful of cobwebs as we burst out into the gathering brightness of the new day.

I do my best to keep the building and hill between us and the gate, as a way to conceal our position from the eyes of our pursuers, but it is a futile attempt. The alphas are already spreading out around the gate that surrounds the cemetery, and I can tell that a few of them have spotted us by the way their howls grow louder.

Syra gasps.

She's facing backward, so she's able to see who's pursuing us. Based on the sound of her gasp, I can guess that the situation is not good.

I glance back over my shoulder, and my earlier suspicion is confirmed.

Our pursuers are not from the Central Ruins Tribe like we are.

They are Farlanders.

Even at a distance, their misshapen forms are easy to identify. After years of living in the distant regions of the Zone where the power of the Source is weaker, their bodies and minds have become twisted. Some of them barely even look human at this point. They do not wear steel piercings the way the Central Ruins alphas do. Instead they decorate their bodies with pieces of bone and wood and polished stone. Some of them even have ornamental shards of glass permanently embedded in their flesh.

Three of them are already inside the cemetery and running straight toward us. I can see three more scaling the fence, and I can hear half a dozen more howling somewhere out of sight.

This is even worse than I expected. I should have known the cemetery would not be safe from the Farlanders. They do not respect the resting places of the ancestors—or anything else for that matter.

But what are Farlanders doing this deep within the Zone?

No time to worry about that now. The only thing that matters is Syra. I must get her as far away from here as possible.

That would be a lot easier if we were not yoked together by our loins. I try and will my knot to shrink, but my traitorous anatomy refuses to obey. It's the running that's the problem. The running is causing jostling, and jostling is causing unwanted pleasure. Even though I've already come inside Syra twice in quick succession, I can already feel another climax brewing in my balls, and it won't be long before I have to unload into her a third time.

And I can tell by the way Syra is moaning, that she is experiencing similar problems.

"Markus!" she cries. "They're getting closer!"

"Can you hold them off with your spear?"

"I'll try."

I can hear two of the Farlanders closing in behind me. I pump my legs as fast as I can, but it isn't enough. Between the medicine and my knot, there's no chance I can outrun them.

One of them snarls as he lunges for us, but Syra lashes out with her spear, and the snarl shifts into a scream. I can tell from the amount of warm blood that sprays against my back that she hit an artery. A moment later, the screaming cuts off, and there is a heavy thud as the Farlander collapses behind us, either dead or dying.

"Good girl," I say.

Syra's pussy clenches around my cock, and I almost come again. I make a mental note not to praise her again until after we make it out of this mess.

Ifwe make it out.

There is still one Farlander right behind us, so close I can hear his ragged breathing and smell his rotten breath. About ten more of his friends are trailing after.

I feel Syra strike out with her spear again, but this time there is no scream of pain or spray of blood, so I guess she missed.

"Jump!" she shouts.

I do as she commands and spring into the air, launching both our bodies over one of the many gravestones sprouting from the knee-high grass.

The timing is perfect. The second Farlander dove for my legs in an attempt to tackle me, but instead he smashes face-first into the gravestone at full speed. There is a sickening crack as something breaks inside him. Hopefully it was his neck.

I have to admit, me and Syra make a pretty good team.

But we're not in the clear yet. We're still outnumbered five to one, and the other Farlanders are closing in fast.

My feet touch down again on the far side of the gravestone. I forgot to factor in the extra weight of Syra's body, and we land harder than I would have liked. The impact sends a jolt through our conjoined bodies, and this time I actually do come without meaning to. The force of the sudden orgasm buckles my legs briefly. It only lasts for an instant, but it's enough to make me lose my footing.

We're going down.

I hold onto Syra's body with both arms and roll, trying my best to soften the impact. Syra lets out a loud moan, and I feel her walls fluttering around my cock as she comes too.

I complete the roll and come up on my feet, but we've lost all of our momentum. The Farlanders are catching up, and several of them are flanking us from both sides.

So much for running. We're going to have to fight our way out.