To Whom Thought Could Control Us

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YO! I got an Easter present for you all that I set up last month. ^.^ For today up until the 18th (so the next five days), both my published books are FREE! :D I love you guys so much! I'm so honored to have your time to read my stories, so please enjoy the best gift I can give with this extra update of Boon and my free books.

You can find them on Amazon under the author name T.S. Lowe. Their titles are "Out of Duat" and "Erase Me."

...What kind of fucked up nightmare was this?

Somewhere atop its mass of fabric destruction, Kai sensed Dranzer slow and stop. It was just too much too quick.

But Ayah had shaken off the sleepy daze of before and had brought her wrists around, still tied by what could only be thick, rough hemp. He could see blood where the rope had rubbed through her skin and instantly got to work undoing the knots.

She leveled her face with his as he worked, urgent, and yet somehow...distant. He couldn't help but see Tala in her haunted gaze. Something had been broken soundly within her as well, never to recover.

"Listen, Kai, our kind make life bonds with our mates that kill us when our mates are unfaithful. If you have sex with me, Cain will die. Yes, we're not human, yes it's weird, but you need to do it before he returns."

Sex. Life bonds. Inhuman. And the walls behind the cloth was just as cement as the rest of the place. What a lame attempt at interior decoration.

"L-l-look," he managed—damn it, he didn't stutter, the world really was about to end. "I can't just—"

She gave him no room to think. Breaking free from the loosened rope, she shot her fingers into his hair and kissed him hard. Her taste alone blew through him, forget the mind-numbing zap of his hair tugged in her knotted fingers. Before he knew it she had dragged him down atop of her, earnest, urgent, pulling on him with a desperate need that his rebellious body couldn't help but respond to. It was too much—he had never been this close to a woman, let alone a woman who meant so...who made him feel...

The bruises. The rope. Cain will die...

He snapped back with a gasp.

"Stop!"

"Cain's going to kill your friends!" she said, her lips more red than ever, but oh God, her eyes! Swollen to the point from beyond tears and reflecting nothing but broken. "My race is done, we're dead, but he will kill them all if you don't—"

"Stop telling me what to do!" He shoved her back to find his arms almost shaking too much to do that. "You can't just—what will happen to you?"

She took hold of his shirt. She was shaking too. He began to see a pattern to the bruises. They didn't splotch her like a cheetah. He could see them on her upper arms and all about what skin was left unbroken about her wrists and on her neck.

She tried to catch his lips again, but he pulled further away. Her injured grip broke easily.

"What will happen to you?" he asked again.

She didn't answer. But, then, she didn't have to. He already knew, even as she stared up at him blankly, dressed in nothing but that damn silk toga.

How did this get so bad so fast?

"Why haven't you sung him to death yourself?" he asked even as he snatched up his blade and unhooked his launcher once more from his belt.

"He controls air. Sound needs matter to travel. If he creates a vacuum—"

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