Wyck guessed that seeing her naked might satisfy them further, but it wouldn’t stop their demands. The more she gave, the more they’d want.
Tossing a glance back to the door, he estimated the number of steps it would take him to reach the exit with the weight of Nadia in his arms—too many—especially with the agitated crew between him and the door.
Someone crashed into his back as a scuffle broke out behind him. Lust came hand in hand with aggression here. A massive fight was brewing. He flicked the laser blade on, stabbing without looking. Enkail, the dimo rushed him, the hard-plated skull painfully ramming into his shoulder. He shoved Enkail aside.
“Nadia.” Wyck twisted in her direction just in time to see Nocc leap onto the table next to her. He ripped the end of the scarf from her fingers and yanked at it forcefully. Nadia spun around as the scarf unwound from around her, freeing her breasts.
At the sight of her naked flesh, wild roars ripped from hundreds of throats. The lust-crazed males rushed to Nadia, shoving the chairs and tables aside and trampling each other.
“Nadia!” Wyck yelled at the top of his lungs.
She swung her head toward his voice, her arms pressed to her breasts, her expression terrified.
“Come here!” He punched a kreer out of the way, crashing through the crowd to her.
Lesh launched himself at someone’s throat. He left him to it.
There were at least as many tables as fingers on his hand between Nadia and him. The males filled the space separating him from her quickly, punching each other to get closer to her as she stood on a table, hugging herself, terrified.
He couldn’t get to her fast enough. She needed to be moving, too.
He opened his arms for her, and she ran.
Those light feet of hers leaped from table to table even as the pieces of furniture were moved and shoved aside by the thickening crowd. Her strong legs propelled her forward as she evaded the greedy hands reaching for her from all sides. Jumping in the air from the last table, she briefly landed on the back of Enkail who had fallen to the ground in a scuffle.
The dimo grunted then tried to turn around to catch her, but she had already jumped up and into Wyck’s arms before anyone else could get to her.
“I’ve got you,” he exhaled. As soon as she was in his arms, something loosened inside him, allowing him to breathe freely once again.
“Lesh!” he called the mahdi. The animal had been gnawing on some tentacles that were still attached to a yourlu who was writhing and screaming in pain. “Lead,” he ordered.
The mahdi dropped the whimpering yourlu and plowed through the crowd separating them from the entrance. His three heads snapped, bit, and ripped to pieces the flesh of those who stood in their way.
Wyck held Nadia to him with one arm. Her limbs wound tightly around him, she buried her face in his shoulder, surrendering all control to him. With the knife in his other hand, he slashed through the air, deterring any attempts to attack them from the side.
Once in the corridor where the crowd had thinned, he ran. Lesh fell behind slightly, snapping at anyone who tried to pursue them.
When all three of them made it back to her room, he allowed himself to release a long breath, feeling the tension drain from his muscles and letting the worry finally ease in his chest.
His back to the closed doors, he slid to the floor, settling Nadia in his lap.
“Nadia?” he called softly, stroking her long, mussed hair.
She wouldn’t move.
Chapter 11
IF I KEPT MY EYES CLOSED—THE wild faces distorted by madness, the fangs dripping with saliva, and the hands grabbing for me wouldn’t come back. There would only be the warmth of Wyck’s large, hard body and the safety of his strong arms around me.
Forever.
Among the sea of scowling faces and hulking figures, Wyck had stood out as the biggest and the most intimidating. Yet as soon as he had yelled my name, I’d run to him. I’d run so fast, I practically threw myself into his arms.
“Nadia.” His voice filtered through the dark fog of terror, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. “Are you okay?”
His wide, callused hands rubbed my back—my naked back. My front was bare, too. The scarf had been ripped off my chest. My naked breasts pressed directly into Wyck’s chest as the sides of his vest had fallen