Human Pet Prison (Possessive Aliens #7) - Loki Renard Page 0,52

from now, or perhaps sooner than either of us might dare to imagine, you will have your daughter in your arms.”

Is it possible to be so happy you want to cry, and so sad you can’t do anything but stare? It would seem so. I am locked between two of the most intense feelings I have ever experienced.

There is still hope for my family, and there is much hope for Warden and me.

Scizzor

Scizzor

“Let me see the human this has all been about.”

“She’s still in cargo, Scizzor. We haven’t opened her transport pod.”

The brood has fallen in behind me admirably well in the wake of Warden’s abandonment and betrayal. They need a leader, and I am more than happy to be that leader. It has been a long and awful life waiting for a chance to exert my will and lead a proud brood.

I stand before the human sized container and gloat. When I open this, I will have my very own human. I will make her pay for the sins of her mother. I will display her shamefully, make her squeal and scream. I will take all the soft humanness she has, and exploit it to the very limits of her capacity.

With a flick of my bladed fingers, the container falls open, a single light coming on inside to reveal my very expensive prize.

I expect a younger version of the arrogance and defiance I have observed from Silver. But that is not what I see. The human inside this crate hides her face from me, a curtain of curling brown and gold hair hiding her features as she shakes from head to toe, terrified of me.

She is right to be terrified. She is the instrument of my revenge.

“Look at me, human.”

When she does not immediately obey, I shout.

“NOW!”

That makes her do as she is told. She sits up, slowly, painfully, and looks at me, or at my feet, which I suppose is technically still looking at me. Her eyes have a wide, doe-like quality, like a wild animal.

Her lip has been cut open; her head bruised by rough handling. They have beaten and brutalized her, and worse… there is a tell-tale swell to her belly. She’s pregnant. They’ve bred her.

I planned to hurt this girl in order to hurt her bitch mother, but I find myself feeling something more powerful than anger and the desire for vengeance while staring at this helpless human victim.

I feel pity.

I feel protection.

I feel possession.

I try my best to fight all three impulses. They are all weaknesses. This is what happened to Warden when he laid eyes on Silver. He became weak. I will not make the same mistake he did. I have spent my life learning from his mistakes.

I try my best to fight the impulse of pity. It feels like weakness. This is what happened to Warden when he laid eyes on Silver. He became weak. I will not make the same mistake he did. I have spent my life learning from his mistakes.

This isn’t over. I know that.

I know Warden. He won’t give up trying to reclaim this human. And her mother, well, there are few foes so formidable in the entire universe as the woman who killed Saya.

As long as I have this girl, this Ella, I and the rest of my brood are safe. I am under no illusions as to what I have done. I have created two powerful enemies, and that means I must remain powerful.

So why am I crouching down in front of this human female? Why am I retracting all my blades, dimming the light in my eyes, doing absolutely everything to make myself smaller and less frightening for her?

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Whh... what are you?”

She’s never seen a scythkin. Strange. From what I heard, she was taken when she was very young by murketeers wearing scythkin suits. She should know what I am. I assumed her fear of me was from that incident, but maybe that’s too much of an assumption. Maybe they’ve done more than violate her body since she was in their custody. Maybe they’ve messed with her mind.

“You’re made of knives,” she whispers. “Are you my owner?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I am your owner.”

She looks at me and she sighs. It’s a soft little sigh. Almost a sigh of contentment. “They told me that I would never have an owner. They said I was only good for breeding.”

“You’re good for more than breeding,” I tell her,