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Tamed: A Prison Planet Romance (The Condemned Series Book 4) Page 25


  Cam whirled around, her eyes wide. “Oh, you startled me.” She clutched her chest. “He is so unusual looking.”

  “Yes. And loud while he eats.” Nayla had not spoken one-on-one to any of the females since her last talk with Lana, but Cam, with her quiet, reserved manner, seemed a good place to restart.

  Rising onto her tiptoes, she dug her fingers into the feathers behind Sharluff’s ears and gave him his favorite greeting. “Give me your hand. Let him smell us together.”

  After a small hesitation, Cam moved closer. The thin scar on her cheek all the more prominent now that her face was pale. “You’re sure he won’t bite?”

  “Yes. If I can get Sharluff to not bite Malin, I am sure I can get him to not bite you.”

  Cam didn’t laugh.

  Nayla cleared her throat.

  “With me here, he will feel comfortable. We take it slow.” She took Cam’s hand, and guided it to Sharluff’s neck.

  Her pet shifted under the strange touch, but quieted under Nayla’s repeated coos. Soon, he was leaning into Cam’s palm, especially after she learned to scratch behind the small earholes at the top of the neck.

  Nayla removed her hand. Cam kept stroking. Sharluff remained content.

  “It’s working.” The female never smiled, but she seemed pleased.

  Nayla remembered what Grif had told her in the night. How Cam had been one of the females in 223’s prison. How each time he looked at her it renewed his determination to bring Melody and Hope’s mother home. It made Nayla wonder if being on this mission was Cam’s way of healing, too.

  “Yes. Sharluff is not so scary now.”

  “He’s not as scary. But that’s not saying much.”

  Nayla was almost certain that was an attempted joke. She wasn’t sure, though. Clearly, neither she nor Cam had much practice.

  It made her feel closer to the other female.

  “Have you always kept him tied up?” Cam studied the intricate knots Grif had done to keep Sharluff from breaking free.

  A stab of guilt. “No. When it is just me and Sharluff, he roams free. But Grif thinks it is better for everyone’s nerves.” She patted Sharluff’s side and barely missed getting poked by his beak as he scratched his front leg. “Better anyway, because there is always a chance he just go home.”

  “He knows his way?”

  “Yes. One time, when running from animal attack, I was knocked out. He carried me to village for help.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  “It was.” She’d woken up in Talg’s dwelling, his enraged face looming above, but that was not a story she would share with anyone but Grif. “I would not have given such a command, but his instinct to protect me is strong.”

  “Amazing.” Shadows thickened Cam’s voice. “That kind of loyalty is rare.”

  Again, Nayla wondered about the pain beneath the other female’s words.

  “What are you doing out here?” The barked question made Nayla jump.

  Cam’s spine snapped straight, her hands leaving Sharluff to fist at her sides. The animal growled and chuffed.

  Nayla didn’t have to turn around to recognize the speaker. The suspicion shading the voice was indicator enough. Her heart beat fast.

  “We are petting Sharluff.” Keeping a hand on her pet to hold him in check, she turned to bring Malin into her sights.

  Ever since the incident with Sharluff, he’d been even more hostile.

  Before Grif, such a harsh tone from a male would have sent her cowering to her knees, terrified of punishment. No longer. Of course, the instinct was still there, but she fought it, Grif’s words of praise and strength ringing in her ears.

  “What are you doing here?” she challenged instead.

  There was a long pause as if Malin debated whether to even answer. Finally, he did. “Patrolling. You can’t be too careful these rotations.” Contempt blazed bright in his gaze.

  “Smart.”

  “Yes, it is smart.” His stare shifted to Cam. “As is reconsidering the company you keep.”

  Insult delivered, he stormed away.

  Sharluff brayed as if pleased and then, threat gone, went back to butting against Nayla, trying to get her to pet him again.

  The silence stretched.

  Surprisingly, it was Cam who broke it. “Look out for Malin. He watches you too closely.”

  Nayla nodded. “He does not trust me.”

  “He is a rash, undisciplined child masquerading as a male. He reveals his emotions too easily.” Nayla was surprised at the bite to Cam’s words. She hadn’t realized such a quiet spirit could sound so hard.

  “I will talk to Grif about him,” continued the other female. “The team is tense enough and Malin keeps suggesting you let Sharluff off his leash on purpose. It’s not good for morale.”

  Ancients help her, apparently Grif was not the only one who thought she needed to be rescued. She was so tired of being seen as less than everyone else.

  “No need.” She infused a bit of Grif’s steel into her tone. “I not worried.”

  There was a small pause. The female’s gaze met hers, her dark eyes full of pain and something else Nayla couldn’t decipher. “You should be.”

  With a final pat to Sharluff, she departed.

  Nayla pressed closer to her pet and stared at the seething currents, a perfect match to her emotions. As an outsider looking in, the connections between others had looked so simple and so wonderful. Now, she was learning the situation was nothing like she had thought it would be.

  She had no idea how to prove to the others that they could trust her without Grif scaring them into it.

  A shimmer in the water caught her eye.

  Leaving Sharluff, she moved to the edge of the shore.

  Peering into the depths, she saw what had caught her attention. A sparkling danashe crystal, imbedded in the rock river wall several lengths beneath the surface. Its size and shape far better than any of the ones Grif and Bain had been using on her spear.

  It could be the key to their success.

  Untying her covering, she let it drop to the ground. Then, she dove.

  40

  Grif reached Sharluff and surveyed the area.

  Where in the hells was she? Zale had said he’d passed Nayla en route to visit her pet. Yet here was the animal chewing his meal contentedly and Nayla was nowhere in sight.

  A flutter of cloth at the shore’s edge caught his eye.

  With a roar, he bounded forward. Nayla’s covering. Fear clawed at his throat.

  The surface churned as the current swept by, but beneath…beneath he saw tawny stripes of gold and brown undulating in the depths.

  He dove, the pressure on his chest and head a tightening vise as he propelled himself downward, the bubbles from his strokes making it hard to see.

  Then, suddenly, right in front of his nose was Nayla’s beautiful face. Her look of surprise obvious, even to his blurry gaze.

  He grabbed her shoulders and torqueing his body, kicked hard.

  They broke through the surface together.

  “Grif? What you doing? I got perfect danashe crystal.” She held up her palm, the amber gem shimmering within. “But that too dangerous for you.” Unlike him, her lungs were clearly working just fine. But her words were heavily accented proving she was upset.

  He doubted it came close to his reaction.

  Chest heaving, his hand clamped tight around her elbow, he pulled her toward the shore. He hauled his body and hers until they were fully on the bank, the scrape of sand against his chest and thighs never more welcome.

  “Grif—”

  “Do not speak.” He rolled, planking his body so that he was looming over her, his palms on either side of her head, his face inches from hers. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Wariness flickered in her gaze. She was smart to be concerned.

  “You promised me no unnecessary risks.”

  “That was not—”

  “You promised.” His
words emerged as a low growl.

  Her ears twitched. “That was not risk for me.” She had the nerve to look hurt. “I told you. I know how take care of myself. Just because you save me from Talg, doesn’t mean you need save me from everything.”

  He was too busy wrestling his rage under control to say anything.

  She foolishly took his silence as an invitation to continue. “Bain will be pleased. Maybe Malin, too.” She held the crystal between them. “It is right for spear. I am certain.”

  He barely resisted hurling it into the river. “Do you think I give a damn what they think?” He pressed his forehead against hers. “There’s only one male you need to be concerned with.”

  Her anger sparked, as fierce as his own. “That is exactly why I get crystal. I want you be proud.”

  “I don’t need you to take risks for me. I’ve said it before. I don’t want to have to say it again.”

  “I don’t care how many times you say. We a team.” Her fangs flashed as she snarled up at him. “That is not just you protecting me. That is us working together.”

  “Damn it, Nayla. I can’t be worried about you all the time. I need to stay focused.”

  “Then do. I stronger than you think.” Rising upward, she slammed her mouth on his.

  His control snapped, the seething darkness inside igniting into white-hot lust.

  He rolled in the sand, putting her on top: a gorgeous, wild pixie covered in sand and clay, her gaze heavy with lust.

  He could not lose her.

  She sank a fang into his lip. Dropped the crystal. Ran her hands across his skin while his fingers tangled in her hair and he pressed kisses to every inch of her precious flesh. Licking. Sucking. Nipping. All the tension from the past few rotations, all the worry over him and the crew morphing into primal need.

  Until she shoved her hands against his chest so she was sitting upright as she straddled him. Her chest heaved, her wild tangle of hair splashing water onto his skins, as cool as she was hot.

  Their gazes locked.

  He gripped her ass with sandy hands and lifted her, the thick head of his cock nudging her wet, slippery heat.

  He waited.

  Everything slowed, his heart a hammer against his ribs

  “Yes.” She answered his unspoken question.

  He dragged her downward onto his cock. Her head rolled back. Her nails scoured his chest.

  “More.”

  His strokes grew almost punishing as he propelled her up and down his cock.

  Snarling, fangs flashing, she met each thrust with her own fierce offensive. Her channel squeezing him tight. An answer. A show of strength.

  His balls drew tight. The urge to answer with his own overwhelming.

  He shoved upward, lifting her off him. Turning her so that she was on her hands and knees and he loomed behind.

  He was deep inside her once more in the next heartbeat.

  Her back arched. She sank to her elbows, her ass lifting higher.

  The monster inside him roared, but this time with pleasure.

  One arm bound around her waist while he sucked the fingers of his other hand free of sand and then found her clit, working her in time with his thrusts.

  Their wet, sandy bodies locked tight together as she bounced on his cock and the pad of his thumb circled her greedy little nub. Faster and faster.

  Until they exploded in a burst of need and fury. His body cradling her, dominating hers, as they were swept together along a current of pleasure more powerful than the river crashing against the shore.

  He was still catching his breath when he saw the marks on her skin, the faint finger bruises at her hips.

  “Shit, Nayla.” He flipped her over, pulling her into his arms. When he left bruises or caused pain it was done on purpose. Not because he’d lost control.

  He was beyond relieved when satisfied kitten eyes met his.

  “No need be sorry.” Her words were slurred, but her expression was triumphant. As if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

  She pushed against his chest and came to standing on wobbly legs, her hair a tangled mess, her lips swollen and red as she stared down at him, hands on hips. “I am strong, Grif.”

  Clever pixie. His fury was gone too, fucked right out of him, but his worry for her was still as gut-wrenching as ever.

  “I know you are,” he agreed, “but—ˮ

  She shook her head. “No but.” She scooped up the crystal and then her covering. “I need you let me be strong for you, just like you are for me.”

  Turning away, she left him sitting on the bank, sand covering pretty much everywhere, panic a tight grip on his throat.

  Because how the hells was he supposed to do that when the situation had never been more dangerous?

  41

  “The spear was working when you and Bain left it by the fire. Now it’s not.” Malin stared at Grif, expectation and accusation swirling in his gaze. “Don’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”

  “I won’t.” The vise around Grif’s chest tightened. He surveyed the area looking for clues.

  It had been three rotations since Nayla had returned with the danashe crystal and presented it to Bain—the pride in her expression something Grif would always remember. Along with the mix of hurt and defiance in her stare as her gaze had slid to his.

  It had been tense between them ever since.

  Grif had told himself it wasn’t permanent, but it was useful. He thrown himself into extra patrolling routes like this one—and gone over his extraction plans A, B, and C with his team so many times they were begging him to take up a hobby.

  He’d worked alongside getting the spear to work, determined to ensure that Nayla did not feel the need to go searching for an even better crystal to fit her spear tip. He and Bain had finally succeeded in getting it to work. Just a few hours before, the spear had glowed bright, its energy crackling as fierce as any flame.

  Even Nayla had cheered.

  Now, there was a new wrinkle.

  The once crackling spear glow was gone.

  Most of the crew was in bed. Grif had just finished patrolling for his final sweep. He’d been more than ready to return to Nayla like a thief in the night, soaking in the way she melted against him, his body curling around hers, allowing him his first deep and full breaths since he held her last.

  They fucked hard and fast, each greedy for the other. But in the morning, the same tensions were still there.

  Tensions that were only magnified when Nayla had declared only a few hours past that there were less than two rotations more of travel until they reached the area where the missing females were being kept.

  Now, he had another wrinkle to add.

  “What are you doing out here, Malin?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but there was no missing the edge to his voice. “Your shift ended long ago.”

  His teammate’s gaze narrowed. “I went to check on the females’ tent and make sure they were okay. I passed here on the way.”

  Possible. Malin’s obsession with Lana was well known. But so was his fixation on Nayla as a danger that no one else seemed to see but him.

  “So you didn’t see anyone near the spear?”

  “No, but I just arrived.”

  Maybe. Just like maybe the broken spear was the result of bad luck or shoddy workmanship.

  Or maybe it had been deliberate.

  A faint scuffing noise at his back was Grif’s only warning.

  He swiveled and swung his ax. Malin’s flashed only a few heartbeats behind.

  “Dragath hells. It’s only me.” Maddox looked up from where he’d dropped his ass to the dirt.

  “Yes, I realized in midstrike.” Grif peered down at his crewmate. “Otherwise, you’d be dead.”

  Malin snorted in agreement.

  “Well, thanks for that.” Maddox took Grif’s proffered hand and stood. “I got used to sneaking around. Hard to break that habit.”

  “Find a way or you’ll be headless soon eno
ugh.” Grif sheathed his ax. Malin did the same.

  True to form, Maddox didn’t waste time. “I have news.”

  “I figured the commander didn’t send you for just a hello.” Grif braced himself. “Report.”

  “The ghost is no longer haunting the settlement.”

  Grif exchanged a look with Malin.

  Maddox noticed. He cleared his throat. “He took off right around the time the extraction team joined you.”

  Grif frowned. “He’s trailing us through the tunnels thanks to the markers.”

  Maddox seemed surprised his news wasn’t more of a bombshell. “It looks that way. He’s good and he’s careful and he’s staying back for the most part, but he definitely appears to be shadowing you.”

  “He’s following Nayla.” Suspicion once more coated Malin’s voice. “They’re in communication. He could be the one who let Sharluff out and broke the spear. Or, he’s giving her the orders. Hells, they’re working together to sabotage the mission.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. She needs to be under guard twenty-four seven, her movements restricted until we can know for certain she’s not a threat.”

  Grif’s spine snapped straight, every protective instinct rising to the fore. “No one is putting her under guard.”

  Still, the veins in his arms popped as aggression flowed through him. The image of a muscled, compact male with huge tusks impossible to ignore. Was Ramm the ghost? Or was the person trailing them someone else?

  All Grif knew for sure was that there was no way Nayla was collaborating with their mystery voyeur.

  But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a connection.

  Or that one of his own crew wasn’t involved.

  It was another worry. Another reason to be extra vigilant. His ability to the hold the threats at bay growing even more challenging, like Dragath sand slipping through his fingers no matter how tight he made his fists.

  He’d been getting up early and going to bed late. Triple-checking everything. Now, he’d need to do more.

  “You’re making a mistake.” Malin’s protest wasn’t a surprise. “She needs to be contained and re-interrogated.”