War Bride (Battle Born #7)(5)
“How long have I been unconscious?” Then her eyes widened as a far more important question barged to the front of the line. “What did you do with Ditten?”
“If Ditten is your bodyguard, we simply left him where he fell.”
“He wasn’t…” Dread lodged in her throat and she couldn’t speak the word.
“He was unconscious, just like you.” Apparently annoyed by her question, he pushed to his feet and stared down at her. “Despite what you’ve been taught, Rodytes only kill as a last resort.”
He had no idea what she’d “been taught” about Rodytes much less what she had learned on her own. Dreaming about him had made her curious and information was the only weapon against that sort of curiosity. Unfortunately, cold hard facts about Rodytes were hard to find in Bilarrian archives. Too much of what she’d found had been shaped by prejudice and hate.
Playing dumb was rather pointless, but she couldn’t think of any other strategy. “My family will only pay the ransom if I’m unharmed.”
“This isn’t about ransom and you know it.” He set the cup aside and straightened his light gray top before he spoke again. Leaning down, he took her right hand between his and started the vow she’d been dreading ever since she first saw his image. “I claim Skyla of Hautell as my war bride.”
“Stop it.” She snatched her hand back, but he caught it again, intertwining their fingers so she couldn’t avoid his grasp.
“I vow not to harm you and I promise you will be freed just as soon as I’ve reclaimed what your people took from me.”
She tugged against his hold as panic rose inside her. Magic. The Rodytes blamed Bilarrians for “robbing” them of the ability to manipulate magic. And forcing Bilarrian women to breed with them was their way of evening the score. “I won’t be harmed?” A caustic laugh escaped her throat. With a firm jerk, she freed her hand and scrambled off the bed. “How will you ‘reclaim’ what my people stole if you don’t intend to harm me?”
He clasped his hands behind his back, gaze narrowed and assessing. Her dreams had perfectly captured his rugged features and the leashed power emanated by his fierce expressions. What she hadn’t understood was the sheer size of the man. Her head would easily tuck beneath his chin and her entire body would be eclipsed by the width of his chest. He was no longer wearing armor, but his clingy shirt and well-tailored black pants made him no less intimidating.
“You’re not a virgin,” he stated casually. “Why would the thought of joining with me frighten you?”
How in hells’ fire did he know she wasn’t a virgin? “I have no intention of joining with you, now or ever. So you have no reason to keep me.”
“I disagree.”
Why was she arguing with him? She knew damn well he wouldn’t release her. She was just upsetting herself. “Anything you want, you’ll have to take by force. Are you really that evil?”
“Contrary to what you’ve been told, rape is not our way.” His voice dropped, becoming a rumbling purr that spread heat throughout her body. “When I push inside you for the first time, you’ll be wet and aching, more than ready for me to fill you.”
“You’re deluded.”
The corners of his mouth turned up and his expression relaxed. Why had he found that amusing? She certainly hadn’t meant to entertain him.
“Your color is returning.” The smile faded, but his posture remained at ease as he crossed to the far corner of the room. Some sort of compartment had been inset in the wall and a small section of countertop had been mounted above it. “Would you like something to drink?” He motioned to a bottle protruding from a silver bucket, which was arranged on a tray with elegantly etched glasses. “I know you’re fond of eloatta, so I have a bottle on ice.”
Just like a real joining celebration. The thought made her shiver and she crossed her arms. “I want nothing from you.”
“That’s unfortunate because from this moment on your very existence depends on me.”
“Is that a threat?” Fear was a more rational reaction to his tactics, but Skyla felt only anger. Knowing the outcome of their confrontation gave her an odd sense of calm. This felt inevitable. No matter how hard she resisted or how frantically she tried to escape, he would win in the end.
“Your family is rich, your brother powerful.” He leaned back against the counter, hands clasping the edge to each side of his lean hips. “I know you’ve never been claimed by a mate, but has your brother proposed possible matches?”
She stilled and suspicion narrowed her gaze. “Were you spying on me?”
A secretive smile was his only answer. “You’ve failed to find your mate, so now you must settle for a life partner. Affection is no longer a consideration. Would you really have been satisfied with a loveless joining?”
Rodymia had been settled by Bilarrians centuries ago, so it stood to reason that Rodyte breeding would be similar. Genetic compatibility triggered a fundamental attraction known as sexual allure. Without allure, a mating bond wouldn’t form regardless of how many times the couple had sex. And without a mating bond there could be no children. The Rodyte’s reason for capturing her had been to impregnate her, so how had he known they would be genetically compatible? Or had the Rodytes found a way to breed without the mating bond?