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Brides of the Kindred Volume One Page 3
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“No, should I?”
“It was in the human training course I sent over for you to study,” his half brother reminded him. The Kindred had a natural affinity for languages. Being genetic traders they found it extremely easy to pick up any native tongue including the slang—which allowed Baird to curse as fluently as any Earth born human—a fact that pleased him to no end. But the nuances of culture sometimes eluded them so the training courses were a necessity—one he guiltily acknowledged he had mostly skipped. But it was difficult if not impossible to concentrate on obscure Earth myths and legends when all he could think about was her. He saw her in his mind’s eye constantly—when he wasn’t blocking out images of his recent imprisonment that was.
Dark, so dark and cold. Chained to the wall when the wires weren’t piercing him. Fucking wires, raping his mind, stripping his memories, sucking away his strength. Showing him things—unspeakable things—until he didn’t know what was truth and what was a lie. Telling him he’d never get free, never see the ones he loved again, never see her…
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ugly images. He would have died or gone insane if the alignment between his mind and hers hadn’t happened just as he’d been captured. The Scourge were a parasitic race that lived off the agony of others and their ability to get inside a prisoner’s mind took torture to a new level. To make matters worse, he’d roused the interest of their AllFather and had been singled out for special attention. Apparently his pain had a unique flavor…Baird felt a chill creep down his spine. Without the dreams of his bride to keep him sane he would have given up hope of living, let alone escaping from that hell hole.
He owed her everything—she was the other half of his soul. And he couldn’t wait to see her, couldn’t wait to hold her close and claim her.
How often had he imagined this day? How often had he pictured meeting his bride, taking her in his arms and looking into her eyes for the first time? Baird thought about how soft her body would feel against his hard warrior’s muscles. How good it would be to breathe in her feminine fragrance and know she belonged only to him. Her lips would taste so sweet and when she gave herself to him, he would fill her for hours, covering her slighter body with his larger one and taking her until his scent was all over her and any male within a fifty mile radius would know to stay the hell away from her.
Yes, that was what he needed most of all. To be inside her, breeding her, bonding her to him forever. She was his and he would never let her go…
He became aware that Sylvan was talking again. Couldn’t the male ever just shut up? “What?” he asked in irritation.
“I said you need to remember this is still a new trade. It won’t be like it is for males who call brides from Tranquil Prime or Rageron or Twin Moons. This is unknown territory for the human females—they don’t know what to expect.”
“You seem to know a hell of a lot about calling a bride for a male who swore he’d never take one of his own,” Baird snapped. When he saw the pain in Sylvan’s ice blue eyes he regretted his hasty words. He shook his head apologetically. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Sylvan shook his head and ran the tip of his tongue over the short, sharp fangs in his upper teeth. Baird knew it was a habit he had when distressed or unhappy and he further knew that those fangs would never grow unless Sylvan found a woman of his own. Not for the first time he wished things could be different for his half brother. Even before their father had died they had always been close—spending most of their time together since neither one was mated. Now Sylvan would be left alone.
“Sylvan—”
“Baird—” They began at the same time and Baird shook his head. “Shouldn’t have brought it up. Not my business.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sylvan ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. “You know the vow I took.”
“Yeah and I know why. But what happened on Tranq Prime—”
“Is over and done with,” Sylvan snapped. “I don’t want to talk about that, Baird. Anymore than you want to talk about the time you spent with the Scourge.”
Baird clenched his hands into fists. It was true he hadn’t been able to tell anyone what they’d done to him. It was too horrible, too fresh. He pushed it away. Now wasn’t a good time to think of it. There was never going to be a good time to think of it.
“I’m just saying—now that I’m about to take a bride myself I want you to be as happy as I am,” he said, controlling the bad memories with an effort.
“I think I’ll wait a little while before I wish myself into your position.” Sylvan said dryly. “There’s your bride, Baird. And she doesn’t exactly look happy to be here.”
Baird’s head jerked up and he stared across the large room to the large double doors. How could he have missed her entrance? Now that he was attuned to her, Baird found that he couldn’t look anywhere else. Her sweet scent tickled his nose enticingly, the warm smell of her skin mixed with the floral odor of whatever she used to wash her hair and body. Her extremely luscious body, he saw with approval. The dreams hadn’t lied, she was curved in all the right places—it was easy to see with that little bit of nothing she had on.
“Gods.” His own voice sounded hoarse in his ears. The thin outfit that draped his bride was made of fragile, almost see-through black lace. Under it the ripe curves of her breasts and the tight points of her nipples were clearly visible. And the hem of the thing was barely low enough to cover the tender vee between her thighs.
Suddenly Baird became aware that he wasn’t the only male looking at his new bride—all eyes in the room seemed to be turned to her. It didn’t occur to him that she was the center of attention because she was being flanked by two large males and was struggling every step of the way. All he could see was that others were looking at the woman who was exclusively his.
A possessive growl rose in his throat as the claiming lust came over him. At the base of his cock, the mating fist came to life for the first time in his life, swelling with heat and need just for her.
Before he knew it, he was across the room, staring down the male draft officers.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off her.” His voice was a low menacing growl. The two officers released her at the same time and backed up nervously, eyeing Baird as though he might bite. A Beast Kindred in the grip of the claiming lust was no one to mess with. Baird didn’t spare them a second thought. Now that they were well away from the human woman—his woman—all his attention was focused on her.
Gods, she was so tiny, so perfect with her long tousled mane of golden hair and her big silvery-grey eyes. Baird longed to gather her into his arms and hold her. He reached out…Only to be restrained by Sylvan just before his fingers could close over her upper arm.
“Baird, control yourself!” the other male muttered in his ear. “Can’t you see you’re scaring her to death?”
“I’m not scaring her,” Baird protested.
But just then his bride’s eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted into a little heap of black lace and long, smooth limbs.
Chapter Three
My God! The dark man! Liv couldn’t believe he was real. Couldn’t believe he was here, obviously waiting just for her. She was being dragged, protesting all the way, into the HKR building in downtown Tampa, wearing her black lace nighty, with her heel throbbing and dripping blood from the shard of glass still embedded in it and all she could focus on was the huge man at the other end of the room. At least he cleans up nice, her mind chattered irrelevantly. But he isn’t a man—he’s a Kindred warrior. And admit it, Liv, didn’t you really know that all along? Even in the dreams?
In her dreams he’d always appeared dirty and disheveled, understandable considering that he seemed to be in some kind of prison undergoing torture on a regular basis. Now that she saw him in person he looked quite different.
He’d had a haircut for one thing. The shaggy black hair on his head had been tamed to a certain extent although it was still longer than th
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