“I survived him. My sister did not.”
As if her body had a will of its own, it leaned forward, an unwelcome tie cinching the connection between them tighter. He might be a savage Other from a different world, but they were not so unalike, after all.
He, too, knew suffering.
“My father liked to hurt my sister and me.” He swallowed hard, looked away. “It’s why I am how I am. The monster inside…the one you see? It’s because of him.” He cleared his throat. “Now you know one of my secrets, too.”
“I sorry.” Her heart ached. She’d never had direct kin, but how much more terrible would it have been to be tortured alongside a loved one and know their agony? To know exactly how they suffered and be helpless to protect them?
“It’s not your fault.” His arms wrapped tighter around her. “I’m beginning to suspect none of this fucking is.”
Until now she had only seen him as her enemy. For the first time, she saw him as far more.
“You’re sweet, aren’t you, Nayla? As sweet as you look.”
She started to shake her head. Gazi were defective. She—
He gripped her chin, his finger wet and warm against her skin. “You have worth.”
She stilled.
“Give me your promise,” he demanded, “so I can give you mine.”
The promise. She replayed the words in her mind. He hadn’t promised to stop touching her to the point of madness or pushing her to give him the information he wanted, but he had offered her a bargain she’d never expected him to make.
“I promise.”
His eyes crinkled. His lips pulled back. Two small indents appeared on his cheeks. This time it reached his eyes, making them an even richer green.
Her heart stuttered. Even for a flat-tooth, he was beautiful. His soulful eyes and dark hair a shocking, stunning contrast.
“I’m glad you trusted me enough to give me your promise.” He carried her closer to the edge of the pool. The water lapping at her waist, then her hips. His skin so hot against hers she was surprised it didn’t sizzle. “Before we’re through, wild thing, you’ll trust me with everything.”
Heart heavy, she looked away. As much as some twisted part of her might like that idea, she wasn’t sure it could ever happen.
Her captor might be a worthy male and far better than any Other she’d encountered, but he was only one among many. All the Others she’d come across were worse than larvesh vermin. They had to be eradicated. Her pack would not survive otherwise. Already, the Others had destroyed so many and stolen critical pack territories and main food sources.
The future of the pack depended on her staying silent, and the health and well-being of the whole was always more important than one soul, even her own.
16
“W-what you doing?” Nayla rose to her feet, her voice sharp.
Grif didn’t even look up. The hem of her dirty pelt dragging in the dirt, he stalked toward the fire.
He’d been mulling over his options since he’d carried her back to the main room and put her in front of the fire to dry off, not even bothering with so much as an ankle restraint.
It was strange to recall the first time he’d seen Nayla in the pelt and how wrong he’d been about the female obscured inside, the one hiding from him even now.
But that withholding was about to come to an end.
What had happened at the pool had decided him. Nayla needed what was about to happen as much as he did. Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind—and he could tell after what he’d learned about the hell she’d suffered that his usual tactics would never break the loggerhead between them.
It was time for something else altogether.
He reached the fire.
“Th-that mine.” She skittered toward him, her hand outstretched.
“It’s ruined. You’ll never wear it again.”
“Yes. I wear it.” She nodded, her voice rising. “M-must.”
The interrogator in him roared in triumph, his nostrils flaring at the scent of weakness. Her New English deteriorated when she was upset. He’d noticed that about her. Hells, he noticed everything about her.
He scanned the rag, turning it over in his hands. Behind him, the fire crackled and hissed, its heat warming his back.
He’d initially assumed the shroud was a crude protection used to shield herself from the planet’s inmates and hot suns, but like everything with Nayla, he was learning many of his assumptions didn’t come close to the horrible truth.
He suspected now that the ruined pelt was far more important