Alien Conquest (Fated Mates of Xaensskar #2) - Jude Gray Page 0,10

filthy breeches and tossed him atop the animal.

Vihn immediately slid sideways and began to fall from the giant animal, yelling as he went. The other men stopped what they were doing to watch, most of them grinning.

Bo slammed a big hand against Vihn’s chest to keep him from hitting the ground, then shoved him back into the saddle, shaking his head in disapproval. “Can’t even sit a fucking xilde,” he muttered. “You better learn quick, boy, or you’ll fall off and bash your fool head on the rocks of Corsov.”

And then I forgot about Vihn and Bo because Dexx Tavin himself started toward me, leading a second saddled xilde. Like Vihn, I’d never been on a xilde. Also like Vihn, I was terrified of riding the beast.

But unlike Vihn, I’d die before I showed my fear to the darkly smirking master of Eastmeadow who’d decided he was going to teach two pathetic city street kids to be worthy of breathing the same air as him.

I was glad my anger was finally showing up. Anger was much better than fear. And I’d be damned if I gave Tavin reason to mock me. I clenched my teeth as the huge xilde—and the huge man—loomed in my vision. I spread my feet, crossed my arms, and didn’t so much as twitch as I waited for him to reach me.

Chapter Six

DEXX

Already, this close to Corsov, my spirits were lighter. Whereas before, I might have been impatient with the skinny, ragged boys, now I found myself slightly amused. My men were freer here, as well, away from the stifling city. The Craeshen did well in areas most people considered harsh, but we’d long ago taken our families to the cities to build lives of comfort and, for some of us, wealth.

It had been so for my father and my father’s father and his father before him, but a Craeshen’s innate need for freedom and wide, wild spaces—much like our inborn dislike of the Drimuti—never really left us.

But I had no desire to hurt this Drimuti boy, despite the fact that he had hurt me. I could not abide a thief. Could not abide a person who would kill a defenseless animal. And yet here I was trying to teach this boy some skills that didn’t involve theft. He and his friend would either die young from their violent lives or would end up in prison.

As much as I hated to admit it, this Drimuti softened my anger. Something in the earnest openness of his face and the way he squared his shoulders and stared me down, despite the fear lurking in his eyes. I respected bravery no matter how pathetically small he was. I should have snapped his neck the way he snapped my grosen’s neck. At the very least I should’ve sent him to prison. And yet here we were.

Angry again at the thought of their attempted theft of my property and the callous way they’d killed the little grosen, I dropped the xilde’s reins and strode toward the kid, ignoring his attempts to ward me off.

I picked him up and threw him onto the xilde, surprised when he didn’t tumble back off the way his friend had. He weighed next to nothing. His bones were prominent against my hands. I felt a trickle of guilt at having fed them no food and made a mental note to fatten them up as quickly as possible. Street kids didn’t get a lot of food.

“Jula,” I said.

“What?” he asked, a furrow between his too feminine eyebrows. All Drimuti—even the males and even those with only a drop or two—were delicate to look at. But by nature, full-blooded Drimuti were vicious, quick, and hardy.

“Jula was the baby grosen’s name.” I looked up at him, just a little disgusted. “The one you killed last night. Her name was Jula.”

He blanched, and I was shocked to see immediate tears spring to his eyes. They spilled over and cleared tracks in the dirty landscape of his face. “We did not kill Jula,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

I shook my head. “You are a dainty little girl.”

He gaped, forgetting his tears at the insult. “Wh…what?”

Bo abandoned the other boy and came to stand beside me. “Not even girls carry on the way this one does,” he said. “You’d be insulting females to dub him as such.”

I nodded in agreement as I watched the boy give a few angry swipes at his nose, red from cold and tears. “He may be a