Retribution (Kall Alien Warriors #3) - Sue Lyndon Page 0,22

thought your tears and your screams and even your blood would satisfy the rage and the emptiness inside me. But, fluxx, it did not.” Though he’d already swept her hair out of the way, he continued to stroke a hand through it, his manner intimate, his touch perversely comforting.

A question rested on the tip of her tongue, but she was too nervous to ask it, for she feared the answer. She wished to ask if he would ever beat her again. Would he keep her locked up forever? Her throat burned at the thought of being locked away, all alone.

Removing his hand from her hair, he shifted closer, and she soon felt the tingling warmth of the dermal regenerator on her punished flesh. The sting ceased after about a minute of him running the healing device over her back. Once he finished, he pocketed the device and pulled the covers and his shirt over her. Then he resumed stroking her hair.

He’d healed her and given her warmth and comfort.

But he’d also been the one to imprison her and hurt her in the first place.

Should she thank him?

His caresses to her hair started to relax her, and her eyes soon grew heavy, but she fought sleep, not daring to drift off in his presence. Despite his promise not to force himself upon her, she was very aware of her nudity beneath the blanket, and he was still shirtless, his broad, chiseled chest on display. She needed to stop looking at him. The last thing she wanted was to give him any ideas that she was interested. She most certainly wasn’t.

“Thank you for healing my back, General,” she said after a few minutes passed. How long would he stay here? She had so many fucking questions about his intentions but not enough bravery to ask.

“I can’t free you,” he said, his deep voice drifting over her.

“I-I know. I’m aware of the finer details surrounding the Custom of Retribution,” she replied. “Will-will you keep me locked up?” Her tongue thickened in her mouth and swallowing became difficult.

“You must remain in your cell until we reach planet Kall. There aren’t any vacant quarters available on the Tammusha, and even if there were… you must understand how important appearances are. A human found guilty in a Kall court cannot be treated as an equal in our society.”

“What happens once we reach your homeworld?” She turned onto her side and peered up at him.

A shadow darkened his face, and he withdrew his hand from her hair. “Get some rest, Layla.” Then he rose to his feet and departed her cell without another word, leaving her with her thoughts in turmoil.

She didn’t quite understand what had just transpired between them. Would he visit her again? What if he changed his mind about beating her? What if he wished to try again in hopes that it would satiate his… rage and emptiness?

Emptiness. This was an unusual word choice. But it was an honest word choice, a word that very much mirrored loneliness. He missed his wife. Despite what he’d just done to her, her heart broke for him.

But fuck if she didn’t feel guilty for not missing Michael. When she thought of him, anger and betrayal were the predominant emotions. He had to have known that his actions would change her life forever. He had to have known she would be taken into Kall custody after he killed himself.

She’d mentioned the Custom of Retribution to him before on more than one occasion, as she brought up a particular instance she’d read about in the news.

But all this aside, he’d taken an innocent life in an extremely violent manner.

His grief and his pain weren’t an excuse. Nothing could excuse what he’d done to a defenseless Kall female. Her skin crawled just knowing that she’d been married to him and had slept beside him every night for two years, never knowing that one day he would become a remorseless, cold-blooded killer.

She pulled General Zamek’s shirt up to her nose and inhaled deeply. Not for the first time, his scent soothed her, made her feel protected. Keeping his shirt close, she nestled back under the warmth of the thick, soft blanket. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

General Zamek haunted her dreams. She dreamt of the courtroom and saw her blood spilled on the white tarp, as the general stood above her holding a sword. She dreamt of the strapping. But she dreamt of his strange gentleness too, of the