Hunter’s Revenge
By Bonnie Rose Leigh
Copyright 2007, eXtasy Books
Now available!
Amy Morgan, an Earth born Lionese woman has spent the last few years as first a prisoner then breeding slave for the Black Rose. Rescued from the ice planet where she’d been imprisoned, Amy learns that her entire family and most of her Earth Pride are now hostages of her captor. Not only must she locate and rescue her family and her pride, she must learn to accept the man the Goddess Alana has chosen as her mate, for only by completing the mating ritual, will their mission be successful.
Hunter Shi’Lan has searched the known universe for the women the Black Rose has kidnapped throughout the years. After five years of futile hunting, he connects with a woman-a woman suffering at the hands of her captors. Using their connection, Hunter locates the woman on a planet of ice. Now Hunter must not only track down the Black Rose’s home base and rescue an entire Pride of Lionese, he must convince a traumatized woman that she’s meant to be his mate, for only after they complete the bonding ritual will his heart ever be complete.
Excerpt
Above the ice planet, Visara.
Hunter Shi’Lan, former High King and now, once again, Crown Prince and heir to the throne of Chantrea, stared down at the barren planet below him. Tension ran through his body, causing the beast within to stir and stretch. If he didn’t get a grip on his emotions soon, he would end up shifting into his Lionese form right here in the middle of the command deck of the Manruvian Warship, Victory.
He could feel her, feel his mate. He didn’t know her. Didn’t know her name or what she looked like, but somewhere below, on a planet of ice and snow, his lady mate awaited him.
He shuddered, imagining all the horrors she could even now be suffering. He had no doubt that the rebels had raped her, probably repeatedly over the course of her imprisonment. Such was the fate of every one of the unfortunate females kidnapped by the infamous Black Rose and her demented followers-those who were unlucky enough to survive their capture, anyway. At least six of the women from his brother’s ship were below, according to the microscopic tracking devices Taliff had inserted into their bloodstreams when they’d left earth.
Once he freed the women held captive within the subterranean caverns, he would finally meet the one woman whose injured spirit had called to him across the vast emptiness of space. Even now, he could feel intense pain crawling through her body, sense her waning spirit, feel her tears of grief and rage in his mind-as he had for the last three lunar cycles.
Three moon rotations of her suffering had about driven him mad, enraging the lion within who roared his anger, his thirst for vengeance. How had she survived such torment for so long? Even now, he knew of the insidious whispers in her mind, telling her it was best to end her life. She felt she would be better off dead-and in the hands of the Black Rose, it was true. But soon, he would have her, hold her in his arms, and somehow he would make everything alright again. He had to.
“Excuse me, Prince Shi’Lan?”
Startled out of his dark thoughts, he growled then turned toward the Manruvian warrior standing behind him. “Yes, Sander?”
“Prince Logann is requesting your presence in his private quarters.”
Hunter nodded then turned his gaze back toward the viewport. “Tell him I’ll be there momentarily.”
“Yes, your Highness.”
Braced against the viewport with one arm, Hunter lifted his free hand to run his fingers down the transomani-the translucent and indestructible material the Manruvians developed to mimic windows. Close. He was so close to being able to touch her this way.
His gut twisted. He needed to remind himself that she’d be traumatized and no matter how much he would want to hold her, explore her body, he’d have to proceed slowly. She would fear him. She would fear any male. He’d die before he purposely inflicted harm upon her.
Straightening away from the portal, Hunter tucked his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants. “Soon, my mate. Soon, I’ll bring you home where you belong.” With one last glance at the icy planet below, he turned and walked away.
* * * *
Amy Morgan lifted her bruised and battered head when she heard the groaning creak of the opening door. Not another man. Not again. She couldn’t take another one so soon after the last. Already she felt as though she would never heal from the numerous injuries she’d suffered during these animals’ attempts at impregnating her. How did they ever expect a woman to survive, to carry a child to term? If she were to become pregnant here, her child would never draw its first breath. She was certain of it. And, if it were a female, would she have the heart, the strength, to smother her in her sleep to spare her this fate?
“Please, Goddess, just let me die,” she sobbed into the dirty mattress as she felt the bed dip beneath yet another man’s weight. She tried to shift away from the new arrival, helpless to stop the agonized groan when even the slightest movement sent shards of burning pain through her abdomen.
A tender hand pushed the hair from her face and she cried for she knew she must be dreaming. No man residing in this hole they all called the land of promise had such capacity for gentleness.
“Please, please don’t touch me,” she sobbed onto the stained mattress. “If you ever loved your mother, your sister, take pity and kill me when you’re through with me.”
The large hand splayed over her back, gently rubbed soft circles on her bruised flesh. It wasn’t the first time one of them tried to trick her with the illusion of gentleness. She wouldn’t fall for it this time. Not again-never again would they trick her into believing they cared for her welfare. It took a while, but now she knew these animals didn’t know the meaning of true gentleness. She wondered if any man truly did. The men here didn’t have an ounce of compassion between them. They liked to hear her beg them to help her escape, to return her to her home world, Earth. Hell would even be better than here.
She’d been tortured, abused, raped several times a day since they kidnapped her from the ship that stole her from her home. She longed to hear her mother’s voice again. Wished she could be home, held in her father’s arms. He may have been strict, but he’d loved her, protected her from animals just like these.
Her body ached, sometimes bled from each encounter. One day ran into the next and she just wanted to rest. To die would be preferable to having countless men rape her day in and day out.
The hand stopped its soothing motion and she knew it would begin again. She clamped her mouth shut, determined not to scream. They always liked it when she screamed.
“Ssshh… Moya, do not cry so. Your ordeal is over. It’s time to take you home.”
She shuddered. She couldn’t bear to listen to the soothing rasp of his voice, wouldn’t dare to believe he had come to help her escape. Thoughts like those led to madness.
She felt the air stir beside her, felt the bed rise once the male behind her stood. The air whooshed out of her lungs when she realized she may actually get a reprieve. Why wasn’t he groping her, ripping the sheet from her body, shoving her legs open and rutting on her? Or was this just a way to catch her off guard?
Minutes passed and the silence lengthened. The tension in her shoulders, her spine began to ease. He must have left. Why would he leave before he got what he wanted? Wasn’t impregnation in the attempt to breed more females the entire reason they’d kept her locked behind iron doors?
Only when she was sure he’d left did she completely relax and ease away from the rough cavern wall. Despite the tortuous pain moving caused her, she rolled to her back and forced open her swollen and bruised eyes.
“There you are, Moya. What is your name little one?”
Oh, God. Why didn’t she realize he’d never left? Were her senses now failing her just as her body had? “Why?”
Through heavily swollen eyes, she watched the large man make his way toward her. She gasped, in fear, in confusion. His face. His face looked so familiar. Yet, it didn’t quite fit in her memories. He looked wrong, somehow.
Why couldn’t she remember him? Had the continued beatings affected her memory? Did she even know him or had she finally cracked? Perhaps she had a concussion. With as many times as they’d beat her, she wouldn’t be surprised to find she had brain damage.
There was no time to figure it out as he moved closer and closer. Her heart stuttered in her chest. She tasted the fear in her throat. Even now, knowing he couldn’t possibly do anything different than the others she feared his touch.
Why couldn’t she just lose herself and grow used to it as she’d been told so many of the others had? She’d been told some of them actually welcomed the men to their beds. She shuddered at the thought. Before she could prepare to defend herself, he leaned over her, reached out with his large hands-hands that were scarred, calloused, rough looking. They were hands that could crush her with a single blow. How had she ever thought he would be gentle?
She inwardly cringed, swallowed past the lump that suddenly lodged in her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off those large hands, knowing they could tear her to pieces without barely any effort, especially considering the shape she was in.
She whimpered when he touched her, ran his fingers through her greasy, limp hair. Tears poured from her eyes when she knew it would come as it always had.
How many weeks, months had she spent here, dreading the arrival of the next male? How much time had passed while she’d been held here in her stone prison, as nothing but a vessel for her kidnapper’s seed? How long had she spent in stasis as her kidnappers transported her to this frozen wasteland? She felt so much older. When she’d woken inside the stasis chamber, her body didn’t quite feel like it used to and then the first of many men came to her, used her, and nothing had mattered since.
She couldn’t even starve herself. If she didn’t eat the slop they provided, they injected her with something that replaced the nourishment she refused herself and the beatings would start all over again. She wasn’t supposed to fight or rebel. They expected her to be submissive, to just spread her legs and take it. In the beginning, she couldn’t do that. Just as she could never seem to find the courage to end her own life.
She shuddered as his hands smoothed over her flesh. His lingering touch passed over her arms, her legs before he pulled away. When she thought she’d get a slight reprieve, he once again touched her, this time sliding his hands beneath her bottom.
She groaned. Grief and pain warred within her. She was a coward. No. She was worse than a coward. She deserved everything she got because she’d fought at first, then finally, after countless males violated her, she resigned herself to the fact that no one would come. No one knew where she was, no one cared enough to come for her, and she was lost.
For the last several weeks, she’d lain on her semen-stained cot and waited, dreaded the inevitable visit of the next man. One after another, they visited her-sometimes as many as six or seven in a day. Those days she tried to leave her body, lose herself in her mind. There she was free, they couldn’t touch her and she would lose count of the men who visited her. She no longer fought them, no longer even acknowledged them, just let them use her body for their cause.
One after the other, they came to her. They came inside her with brutal disregard for her wellbeing. She didn’t have the heart-or the courage-to bring her life to an end. What kind of worthless piece of shit did that make her?
He lifted her against his chest then stood, cradling her against his torso.
“No, please. Please. Don’t take me to them. No, please. You can fuck me, do what you want with my body, but don’t take me to those butchers, the ones who call themselves healers.”
With what little energy that remained in her body, she jackknifed against him, desperate to get out of his arms. She’d do anything to avoid another internal exam while the doctors stuck their dirty instruments in all her private areas and her kidnappers looked on with maniacal glee.
“Hush, moya. It will all be over before you know it.”
Before she realized just what he’d planned, everything went dark. She could feel herself slip into darkness and thanked all that was holy that they’d finally decided to end her worthless life.