Life could be a cruel and heartless bitch or was that fate? Eitherway, fuck both of them, Novalyn though as she struggled against the strong hand that wrapped around her upper arm. It had been Vukasin’s foolish plan that now had her in the hands of the people. They had a proper name of course, the Dakkar, but the humans just called them the people. A savage, warrior-like race on whose planet they tried to eek out a meager living on. It was said that when they had landed, there had been grand plans. Promises of a utopia, something different than earth had been. To Novalyn, it was nothing more than pretty words and shattered pipe dreams. She’d never known that promise..
No one had, not even her parents or her grandparents. They had only ever known hardship. It was Vukasin’s idea to try and hunt the beasts of the land. She’d forbidden it. There were not many laws laid out for them by the people, but one of them was to not hunt the beasts of the Dakkar. To do so would incur their wrath and be an affront to their goddess. He’d not listened though and even though he’d managed to down the beast and even though t had filled the bellies of the village, Novalyn knew.. That they would not escape unscathed. Simply put, they were not that lucky.
Letting Vukasin pay for his crime was her first choice, but one she couldn’t make. It had been her mother’s dying wish to look after him. Since she was eleven, she’d looked after her baby brother. Taking odd jobs, going without food and smoothing over the mistakes he made. This mistake however? It would mean her death most likely. Life was never fair. It simply was a fact that Novalyn had come to terms with early on. Rather than waste her tears on her fate, Novalyn vowed to uphold her promise until death. Which meant she had little time in which to make arrangements.
Between the hour that the kill and their fires had been smothered and the horde rode into their small village a number of things had been accomplished. Vukasin would be cared for and would not be punished as she would take his punishment. An arrangement had been made to teach him to smith, to put him to use and not allow his mind to be filled with the space farmers nonsense any further. The excess rations that Novalyn had been saving had been given as payment. They didn’t have much as a people, but their word? It meant something.
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Her arms had begun to hurt an hour ago and by the time they had arrived at the Dakkar camp Novalyn wished they’d just go numb. The position of them wasn’t the problem, it was the manhandling of the hunter that had come to investigate the smoke. The journey from her village to where they had made camp had been brutal and it took more willpower than Novalyn was willing to admit to keep her pace measured and her legs from trembling.
Cheers erupted around her and Novalyn bit the inside of her cheek, to keep her reactions to herself. There was no flinching, no fear, just an empty face and wide eyes; though those eyes spoke of the fear she felt, if one knew how to read such things. How could she not fear what she assumed would be her death? How could she not fear when compared to even their women, she was delicate and frail? Her eyes had slipped from the man before her to them, the first females of the Dakkrar she’d ever seen. They were beautiful, muscular and though perhaps shorter than then men, nowhere near as short as she. She came up to the pectoral of the Darkkar male behind her and one large hand easily enveloped her wrists.
Men looked amused and perhaps curious about her, the look on the female’s faces was hard, cold and vicious. The word, quiet, cut through the woman’s protests and her eyes finally lifted to him. The muscle of her jaw flexed as she braced herself. The shuffle of leather and her own heartbeat filled her ears as he told her to speak. Subject? It was the first Novalyn had heard of it, but she wouldn’t protest it, not now.
“I come in place of my brother.” Her voice was husky, soft and damned if she wasn’t proud of herself that it didn’t tremble with fear as the hand on her wrists tightened. “He is young, foolish and only sought to feed his people.” That she’d argued and pleaded that he not do what he planned, was not mentioned. That she’d refused the meat and not taken part of the celebration for the desperately needed food, was not mentioned. “As his only family and his elder sister, I take full blame for his actions..” To tell them that her people starved, that they struggled to survive wouldn't benefit them and something told Novalyn that they would not care for such excuses, if they were not already aware of the humans plight.
The petition that it not be her, but her brother did not surprise her, what did was the leader rising to his feet and stalking toward her with lethal grace. That fear flamed to life in her eyes and she fought the urge to step away. She had no friends here and the man behind Novalyn would not protect her. If she were to die, she’d do so with her chin held high.
Whatever she expected it was not for his hand to cup her sex through the flimsy, well worn dress and the sound that stuttered in her throat was one of protest, meek as it was. Novalyn’s entire body trembled as a single claw parted fabric and left a burning trail along her skin. No one had ever touched her, not like this and even though her cheeks burned like the setting sun, her glacially blue eyes held his. The warmth of his fingers, the rough pads of them finding her skin silken, soft and warm.
A growl vibrated through him and brushed against her skin as he exhaled. Had she seen the looks of the women, she might have tried retreating into the hunter’s arms, but her eyes were only on the man before her. For a second time, he surprised her. Two words were offered. Bare her.
It was the sound of fabric ripping that made her flinch. It sounded almost wet as her dress was torn in two. He’d not even bothered with a knife, the dress so threadbare it had not warranted one. Hands freed, Novalyn tried to hold onto the dress, tried to hide her naked form from the view of all within the tent. It was pointless though, for after two hard tugs, she was left naked before the horde king.
Malnourished as she was, Novalyn was still beautiful. Even though her hair was discolored from the trip, it was hard to miss the pristine white of her hair, the heavy locks the color of the snow capped mountains to the north. Every rib might have been able to be counted, but her hips still curved out and there was a hint of what her body might look at once properly fed for a time. Soft and plush in all the right places. Her breasts were perky and pale as cream, her nipples the only spark of color, pale and rosy. Between the apex of her thighs was short, trimmed white hair. Natural, it seemed. Arms struggled to cover as much of her body as they could.
It was her eyes though, that spoke of the woman she was. The flash of anger and of something else. Even Novalyn couldn’t have said what it was, innocent and inexperienced as she was. The scent of her arousal though would be hard to miss, it made her sweet, pine scent, mingled with that of petrichor and cashmere stronger.
Teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached, she glared up at him. Plea accepted, but not death, at least not yet. Far from a child, she could understand what he had planned, even if she knew little beyond that. As they held one another’s gaze, the magic that had been spelled slowly worked through their mind, their very blood, binding one another intransigently to one another. Their fates twisting together till there was no separating them.
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