Capture

Neema eyed the tall beastly man with a calm façade, she knew that her earlier behaviour had made him weary of her. She really wished he hadn’t seen her acting like that but, such was life. Her treatment of the nurse was minor compared to the absence of her siblings. Maybe it would serve as a warning to him.

Neema’s mind ran wild with all the possibilities of what could be happening to them, she knew they wouldn’t be tortured like her but what if they had been sent away. Sent to some sick wolf facility that brainwashed children into believing their warped views of life. Gods forbid her siblings wouldn’t recognise her by the time she dealt with the bulky man in front of her. She couldn’t bare to think of what could have happened to them and that poor little girl.

Her body was so small and frail, there was no way she could have fought off a wolf if they tried to take them from her. What if they decided to take the little girl and breed her? The poor little angel wouldn’t be able to survive in this harsh world, not alone.

Clearing her throat, Neema realised that the tall beastly man before her still hadn’t answered her question. Instead he just stood by staring at her with a hint of humour in his eyes, as if he found her predicament funny. Neema tried to control the rage she felt building inside her at his mocking. She wanted to bring him to heel but his aura suggested that he was not some weakling who would take demands or her lashing out at him. So she bit her lip and plastered the sincerest and most apologetic look she could muster on her face. She even batted her lashes to show she was not as feral as she seemed. Deep down though her blood was bubbling with the need, the hunger to attack him.

His silence was nerve wracking but she had to be patient.

Neema watched him with her keen eye. Her dad had told her that a quiet person was one who should be treated with caution. In all her 22 years of life she had never imagined that she would ever agree with her father, until this day. She could tell that the dark haired man was a force to be reckoned with, one who did not take prisoners. No, he would crush resistance in the palm of his hands like it was nothing but a nuisance, a pesky fly. Neema could tell he was dangerous. She could tell it in the way the air vibrated around him, with untamed energy. The way his strong arms flexed across his chest and in the way his eyes flickered between that hauntingly hazel colour and furious red.

He stood by the door casually leaning on the frame but his sharp eyes never remained still. The hazel of his eyes shining with a cynical glint, a clear indication of the power he wielded.

His posture said he was bored but his aura screamed violence, carnage... Destruction. She would heed his warning. For now.

His eyes and his aura demanded attention. If one could overlook the two, which Neema was having great difficulty with, you could almost call him handsome. Not in the boyish and clean ways of what her mother referred to as “models” in her tales of the old world. Nor was he masculine in the way of Victus and the hunters in her compound. No he was otherworldly. He was ridiculously tall and imposing, with shoulders like tables and arms just as thick. He reminded her of an untamed bear. His deep chocolate skin glistened with health and warmth, framed by a wildly un-groomed beard. The dark hairs covered his chin, and shrouded most of his face.

Neema found his lips appealing. From what she could see they were thick and wide. Impossibly thick. Lips that were possibly more suited to a woman but did not deduct from his masculinity. Somehow they enhanced it, making him more tempting. From her distance they looked chapped, as if he had been dying of thirst, and he looked at her as if she could quench it.

The man seemed to be riddled in scars, the skin that wasn’t covered by his facial hair was riddled by small jagged cuts. As if they were battle scars he was proud of. The jagged scar from his forehead to eyebrow seemingly being the biggest. Yet Neema was sure that his body would be the same as his face if not worse.

Yes, if one could overlook his imposing presence he would definitely be considered an attractive man.

“Are you quite finished yet? You will not find the secrets of your sibling’s whereabouts on my body” Khan snarled.

At his tone, Neema felt her body snapping into a straight upright position, her muscles feeling tense. She realised that in the time she had been analysing him he had moved from the door into the centre of the room. He stood much closer to the bed, his atmosphere nearly suffocating her with its stifling authority. She felt so stupid. She was too concerned with eyeing him as if he was her last meal, she barely noticed that he had moved closer. A dangerous man like the one before her could not be left unattended.

She had to pay more attention to his discreet moves.

“I’m quite aware your body doesn’t hold any answers” she pronounced in a clear voice.

Neema refused to be ashamed of being caught in her perusal of him, she was only human and he was a very attractive man. Still she knew that from now on out she had to be more cautious around him.

Removing her body from the bed she felt liquid fire travel from her spine all throughout her back. Gritting her teeth and wiping the perspiration from her brow, she moved to stand before him. Heaving out a deep sigh she placed her small palm against his chest and titled her head to gain eye contact.

“I’m sorry for my previous behaviour, but my siblings are everything to me, please give them to me” she mumbled.

Her thumb stroking his left pectoral as she spoke. She found that no force or mental preparation was needed to try and seduce the man before her. Her body was willing with out her direction. Craving, hungering for the opportunity to touch him. Her thumb stroked his chest subconsciously, and she loved the feeling it gave her.

His scent enticed her, it caused her mouth to water and her eyes to dilate. It was crazy the affect he had on her, no man could boast the same. No one.

It was as if khan was purposely created to arouse her and her only. Of course that was absurd. No one man belonged to one single woman, they forged bonds. They did not just manifest from thin air and strike a body into carnal desire. Yet here she stood. Carnally ravenous for this man before her, she only hoped he felt it too.

Khan looked down at the little witch in front of him, she thought to beguile him with her soothing voice and erotic touch. Maybe on a mere mortal man it would work, but Khan was above the enchantresses’ behaviour. Though her touch did elicit tingles of warmth through his body, he ignored it. It was not as easy as swatting a fly. No it could never be so simple. Not when he felt her touch on his skin all the way the way down to the deepest pits of his soul. Her gentle fingers stoked his body to a fevered pitch and his nose was intoxicated by her scent. She was an aphrodisiac in itself, but Khan was a trained warrior.

He would not be played.

Bringing his right hand up he slowly stroked her fingers, noticing that her eyes widened at his touch and her nostrils flared. Her tongue flicked out as she licked her bottom lip before sinking her teeth into it. Her pretty pink tongue invited him to plunge the depths of her mouth with his. He didn’t. Instead khan grasped her wrist and abruptly removed it from his body.

“You think to enchant me with your bewitching touch but I will not be lured into your little games. You think to humble yourself to get information from me and to apologise! Hah, for what?”

His voice growled as his sweet breath fanned her face. His lips touching her face so softly before he pulled his head backwards and shot her a ferocious scowl.

“Not for anything you have done but for being caught! Do not play with me little human” he grumbled out as he forced her body to his. Her chest lay against his abdomen and his hips lay along her belly. Flexing his hips into her skin, he gripped her tighter, letting her feel him as he stared into her eyes.

Eyes filled with such anger and derision, he was mad at her but he was also aroused. The mixture of scents wafting into the air and flitting past her nose. It was a battle of dominance and Neema stood no chance, she was not even sure if she wanted to win.

Khan could see her eyes shimmering with pent up resentment, she was biting her lip in a bid to control her reactions. Her desire for him overwhelmed the rage she felt, but it was not her lust that khan wanted. He wanted her fire, her ire and her anger.

Her determination to subdue her fury was appreciated but he wanted to snap her well placed control and break the haze of lust that circled in her eyes.

“Your siblings are mine to do with as I wish, just as you are little mate. Challenge me and you shall feel my wrath” Khan deadpanned.

His canines protruding over his lip as he snarled at her, the warning of retribution clear on his lips. He challenged her, taunted her. He wanted to see her wild and untamed so he could unravel her mind and subdue her, he wanted her to fly off the rails so he could slap her back into submission. This was his first show of dominance and it was a calculated trap, one that Neema fell into.

A piercing screech left her mouth like a battle cry as she launched herself at him, her body reacted before she could even think about what she was doing she was screaming, scratching, lashing out like a possessed banshee. She wanted to shred his cool indifference and spit on the authority he had over her. She wanted to scar him, maim him so every time he looked in the mirror or touched his face he would remember her. Her bloodlust was cloying to her skin as she continued attacking. Her rage fuelled actions were sloppy, her training left behind but still she managed to get a swipe at his top lip before he had her arms in his clenched fists.

Spinning her round so her back was along his chest, he wrapped his arms across her breastbone. Her back thudded against his chest send a sharp ripple of pain along her spine, she felt blood ebb from her back as Khan’s arms squeezed her tight as if to stop her air supply. Gripping her head with his left hand he harshly twisted her face towards him, their noses nearly touched and she could almost smell the excitement off his skin. His eyes gleamed with delirium and viscous intent. His hand along her chest glided over her breasts and up her collarbone until he reached her neck, his thick fingers flexed over her throat as he tilted her head to the side. The veins in her neck throbbed as she tried to gasp for breath, he tightened his hold until Neema thought she would collapse without air. There was a ringing in her ears as she tried to claw at his fingers, her nails biting into his forearm as she sputtered for air.

Releasing his tight hold, he viciously gripped her chest as he yanked her head back by her hair and her head slammed into his heavy chest.

“Mmm little witch, I warned you not to play with me” he growled over her face.

The warmth of his breath heating her cheeks as he nuzzled his face into her neck and slackened his hold across her chest. The fingers of his left hand trailed across her side, travelling under her top and stroking her flat stomach and protruding ribs. Pushing her back to his front, he thrust his hips into her as his hands glided downwards. His warm hand resting just inside her trouser line as he ground himself against her, flexing the heaviness of his essence against her supple body. Khan was amazed that she still held the capacity to continue fighting him, her body was too malnourished to be much resistance and they both knew it. Neema was all dry skin and bones but his mate still fought on, she was insane.

“No more fighting hmm, you’re mine now” he whispered in her ear as he gently bit the lobe.

For a minute Neema felt her body melt into his warmth, the promise of finally being touched by male hands were a craving she struggled to battle with but the rage had settled deep. All thoughts of intimacy and how good his skin felt along hers were secondary to the veiled threat of his previous words. Neema would not be his, he would not take from her as if he had no need of her permission, no, she would make him beg for it. He thought he was her master but she was no slave.

Her elbow lodged into his stomach as she bellowed the first thing that came to mind.

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to be some bloody psychotic mutts mate!”

//---//

Neema’s head was pounding her, her back no longer the main injury on her body though it still throbbed ferociously. The blood from her scalp and wounds clung to the thin top she had been placed in after they re-stitched her back.

The stupid wolf had not reacted well to being called a mutt, in her defence she did not like being pawed at like some dog’s favourite chew toy though all that fondling was heaven compared to his actions after. She would rather have his straying hands over her body, then have his claws ripping at her skull as he pulled at her hair.

After telling him her opinion of him, he had showed her how badly he liked the challenge she represented by pulling out half the hair on her head. It seemed that wolves liked their women bald because if one more man pulled on her hair she was sure she would have none left. Her head was still tender from being yanked at earlier and now he had added to the wounds, her head felt tender and she was sure he had cut parts of her scalp. Although her head no longer bled, she could feel the dry scabs clumping her hair together.

It seemed wolves had a thing for dragging their females about by their hair, not saying she was his but Neema had never had so much violence inflicted upon her person in all her 22 years of life. It was as if the wolves wanted their mates half dead and in parts.

Neema reluctantly followed the small bubbly woman down the corridor, the tiny woman was accompanied by a tall red haired man who kept shooting glares over his shoulder at Neema at every given opportunity. He clearly blamed her for his position but it wasn’t her fault he had to babysit the woman. When Khan had demanded she be taken to the preparation rooms no female would voluntarily take her, she had been labelled a “hostile captive” after the way she had treated the blonde head nurse.

Neema wanted to know where her siblings were but knew she wasn’t going to get anything out of anyone. The only way she would get information was if she pretended to be a willing mate. She knew her reputation for being violent now preceded her but maybe she could act as if she had a change of heart though it was unlikely anyone would believe her, it was the best shot she had.

Her siblings were all she had left in this world and without them she could not exist, she did not want to. It was in the wolfs best interest to return them to her, otherwise she would not think twice about killing him in his sleep, that was if she even let him live long enough to see the night. She would simply bide her time until she got him alone again, only this time she would not play fair. If she had to pretend to be a ‘pacified’ mate in order to get to Caillum and Jana she would, but she would make him rue the day he tried to keep them from her.

“And then while you are, you know doing it... he will bite you in front of everyone to show his claim.” Gushed out the ditsy little black haired woman she was following.

Neema had tuned out the woman’s ramblings as she thought of her siblings and occasionally wondered on the young blonde girl however, the mention of having sex in front of a wild crowd quickly brought her back to the present. There was no way in the Gods name would she do it, she could not, she refused to be humiliated and sodomised by some barbaric animal. These wolves were living in some archaic world if they thought a woman would willingly lay with a man she did not know or like, especially in front of a crowd.

Neema had always subconsciously known that she would have had to lay with the wolf at some point and as much as she would not have wanted to she would have abided his touch when the time came. She just did not realise how soon that time would be or the circumstances surrounding her first time. If she was honest enough she could even admit that she would possibly enjoy it, his touch was like a craving she had never felt before. with a little prompting she knew she could enjoy sex with this wolf who claimed her buts he would never willingly allow it in front a den of feral animals. She could accept the rape if it meant being with her siblings after but she could not do that, she had never witnessed a mating, nor did she want to feature in her own show.

Her head became fuzzy as she clutched her chest, panic rising through her body, she just did not see how she could ever do that but there seemed to be no other choice. Her desperation to see her siblings meant that she would accept all kinds of things that she would usually attack someone for even suggesting. Tears dripped down her face as she imagined all their crazed eyes staring at her with lust as she was pummelled by the beast of a wolf she had to call mate. In this moment she wished she could feel the supposed bond all mates felt, she knew that if she did then she would be able to come to terms with what would happen but to be absolutely alone and unfeeling while they watched her being humiliated, well it was horrifying.

How could they make women do this, surely there had to be another way.

Neema’s body tumbled into one of the corridor walls as she propped herself up against it, her eyes closed tight as she tried to regulate her breathing and get her stomach to rest. The black haired female had continued to chat a mile a minute, not noticing or caring that Neema was hunched over the wall and paler than death itself.

“It is your scent that determines your mate, the stronger the scent is to a male wolf the stronger the pup you bare him will be. One whiff and they just know” Sahina sighed wistfully as her eyes glazed over with a memory.

The little black haired woman carried on yapping away about how lucky Neema was to be with such a strong virile man. How having a mating in front of the council was such an honour, that only special people where given the privilege, her wistful voice continued on as Neema stared on in abject horror.

There was no hope for her, none. This man would brutally take what was left of her innocence in front of his brethren and then fill her with his satanic spawn.

It was no surprise that a wolf recognised his mate out of the genetic compatibility for procreation, it was all they cared about after all. That and dominance, which was why Neema should not have been shocked that he would take her in front of everyone to prove his authority, his ownership over her and any children she gave him.

It was archaic, primal, derogatory and Neema had to prepare herself for the demeaning encounter.

But how could anyone prepare themselves for that.

Mated

The small hum of irritation and disgust that Neema had felt earlier on had transformed into untamed unbridled anger. She was absolutely livid by the time the mating ceremony came about. The wolves had puled her last string and she did not know if she had anything left in her to deal with the ordeal. Her body was sore and tired and her mind was running a muck with ways to kill. Today had been one of her worst days yet and that was saying a lot.

After khan had left she had been escorted to another white room that was filled with appliances a large shower and an even bigger bath. She had been stripped bare and roughly shoved in the shower as the women stood around her scowling and tugging at her body and that was how the rest of her night went. She was pulled and prodded by spiteful and vindictive women who hated her on sight, not that she was anything great to look at. They were all jealous cows. They wanted to be the ones mating with of a wolf of her ‘mates’ stature but Neema would do anything to be them. She craved to be free, but they did not care that she didn’t want the “good fortune” he was bestowing upon her. No, they had been mad that she had him and remained so ungrateful.

They had surely taken their anger out on her and there was not much she could have done in defence. It wasn’t as if they had viscously attacked her with punches and kicks. No they had been much more discrete.

They had dunked her head under the bath for much longer than necessary, scrubbed her skin raw and yanked on her hair all in their bid to make her presentable. It had taken her hair at least 10 washes to be completely clean, the shower water had run a disgustingly brown colour with streaks of red from the dried blood that was clotted along her skin and in her hair. After they had given her a preliminary shower they had taken her over to a scolding hot bath that smelt of camomile and honey, the water was murky white and felt nourishing against her skin, but their hands did not.

Neema knew she was dirty, living underground was full of dirt and dust and with there being a limited supply of running water they had been living off of rations. One token per family a week and with two kids she barely felt the water on her skin before it cut out. She knew she did not smell or look the greatest but the damn wolves had treated her like vermin. As if she was scum on the heel of their shoe, so many times she wanted to kill them and she had even tried to at one point. It had really shaken them up when she dragged the black girl by her long frizzy hair and dunked her into the water, head first. Keeping the girls head submerged under the water she had stared down all the she-wolves in the vicinity, daring them to at like the bitches they really were. When none even flinched in her direction she released the woman who came up sputtering and crying like Neema had stabbed her. The damn weakling did not know anything of pain, but it had served its purpose.

The she wolves calmed down after that, they had even been nice for a while. They fed her chicken while her nails dried and placed some soft buttermilk cream onto her skin while she drank a pink frothy drink through something they called a straw, all fancy stuff. Neema had wanted to refuse the food, she couldn’t imagine eating without knowing that her siblings had eaten first but one of the women had assured her that they did not starve kids in this facility. Though Neema did not trust any of the wolves before her it was as close as she would get to making sure they ate and so she took the woman’s words for truth, if only to ease her own guilt.

Neema had thought it was all going well and that they were all getting along after the rough start. What a shock she had received when they had led her over to a white bed where they proceeded to rip all the hair from her body, one painstaking strip at a time until she looked like a bald chicken ready for cooking, all pink and tender and hairless. Neema couldn’t understand why any woman would want to hurt herself so much just to look like a naked mole rat. Sahina had stood by the door still yapping along as she explained that being hairless would maximise her pleasure, assuming that Neema would feel any in the first place.

By the time the grooming process was finished her eyebrows had been shaped, any body hair was promptly removed, her scalp and body was scrubbed raw and her mental disposition had been worn thin. Her mate had to be suicidal if he thought to touch her this night she was not in an entertaining mood and would probably remain so for a whole millennium.

They tried to make her look seductive in a transparent silky gown, the cups of the dress crossed over and swooped low at her breasts giving a brief view of her dark nipples. The dress barely reached her thighs and was all she was permitted to wear. No underwear, nothing. She had asked for a coat or something to cover herself but they had merely snickered at her as they shoved her out the door and into the strong arms of her mate. The same mate who was currently carrying her over his shoulders because she had spat in his face for the lewd comment he had made.

Neema really couldn’t take any more, she had been pushed over her breaking point long ago, she was surely going to become a murderess by the end of the night. Gods, she was hoping it was her mate she killed.

Khan had been unprepared for the seductive sight Neema made in nothing but her mating gown. Her previously untamed hair lay in silky curls across her chest, though the curls did nothing to hide the swells of her succulent body, her skin smelt of sugar and her previously chapped lips were soft and dewy. Her eyes, well her eyes were still spitting fire at him. Releasing a slight chuckle, Khan had told her how he was looking forward to ploughing her into submission, that comment had not ended well and he had a slightly damp beard as evidence.

He only hoped they had explained to her what would happen because he had no patience to fight with her.

Growling under his breath he pushed open the big hall doors with Neema still placed securely on his shoulder. Her hips wiggling as she tried to drop free of his hold, the moves tempting his hands to move further up her thigh only to find she wore nothing underneath the small garment, he couldn’t wait to secure his bloodline.

The warmth emitting from the juncture between her thighs caused his gait to speed up as he all but ran to the bed that lay in the middle of the podium. The little female released a hesitant gasp when she met the many eyes of the people in the room, their eyes glowed as the candle light lit the dim room. Candelabras hung from posts and a large chandelier was dangling from the ceiling giving the witnesses more than enough light to see them.

There were more people than Khan was used to seeing at a mating but it could be because there were quite a few alpha mattings this evening, though he was sure they were here to witness a descendant of the Manasseh line take his first mate. It could also be due to the fact that by mating Neema he could begin transitioning into his role of regional alpha. Mating Neema was more than just having a mate and creating the next generation of Manasseh descendants, through mating Neema he was finally accepting his father’s legacy and would begin creating his own pack that would be at the helm of wolf society politics. Khan had been a man for over a century but through this mating he was fully becoming the man he was destined to be. This was one of the most important ceremonies he would ever participate in and they had set the stage for him.

The room was shroud in dimness and the smell of anticipation was strong in the air as was Neema’s fear. It was a heady aroma, one that beckoned him to shed his skin and release his fur.

“Are all of them gonna watch” Neema whispered up to khan, her big eyes filled with fear. She hoped that the crowd would have been smaller but there was at least 50 people present if not more and they all seemed eager to view this sham of a mating ceremony.

Khan only grunted in response as he continued his march towards the bed that was placed on top of a risen podium. Neema felt sick to her stomach, the damn wolves had tried to set some type of mood but she only felt repulsed. There was a heavy stench of release in the air and she automatically knew she wasn’t the only one to endure this fate. She wasn’t scared of intimacy and she wasn’t waiting for love mainly because women in the underground villages often married for protection, sustenance and the opportunity of children, sometimes love would blossom but often times it was only companionship.

The main issue for Neema though was that she did not have a choice and she hated that fact, for the past year and a half she had been in control of her and her siblings lives and now all of it was being viciously ripped from her hands. There was no preliminary let’s get to know each other period, just a straight wham bam thank you mam and then what, Children? Did they really expect her to want to have his children, it was not beneath a woman to terminate an unwanted pregnancy? Neema was not the type to do so but still, did they not fear that would be her reaction or did they have that much faith in humanity.

These wolves disgusted her, they represented everything she felt was wrong with society. Women and men were forced into relationships with these wolves who acted as if they were the very gods themselves. Women were forced to have “bonds” and bare pups for these vicious males who had no care to their mate’s feelings and human males were emasculated. Families were torn apart to create these artificial and supposedly superior ones, humans were whipped for hiding and for preventing the procreation of the very race that enslaved them.

How would she ever be able to look at her children without remembering this odious night?

Clenching her fist, she felt her body shaking as she tried to pry his arms from her thigh, his fingers flexed deeper into her skin and his free hand swatted against her behind. The loud crack caused a harsh gasp to slip from her lips and for the people to move closer to the bed. They moved away from the chairs that were placed in the alcoves and moved a few paces forward as if they found his actions interesting.

“Please don’t” she sobbed, her word muffled as she tried to control her tears.

“I- I – I’d be willing, if - if we could just go somewhere else.” she whispered as she tried to slide off his shoulder. His hand loosened its hold over her legs and allowed her to slide halfway down his body leaving her propelled halfway off the ground and eye to eye with him.

His nostrils flared as his eyes became impossibly black, his thick tongue flicked out as if he was contemplating changing his mind. Her body was sent hurtling into the air, her hair splaying across her face as she tumbled onto the bed, her eyes wide as she stared up in shock. She had her answer as he stripped off his top and discarded it on the floor, his eyes never staying from her stagnant form as he made his way over to the bed.

The sheets were plain in furnishing due to the continuous changing of the linens after each mating, the blankets lay folded at the foot of the bed and was there for modesties sake in case some fool wanted to hide his dominance from the room. Khan of course thought it was pointless. He wanted the room to watch as he took his mate and revel in the fact that they could never have the beautiful woman who lay waiting for him. This would be the only time they would catch a glimpse of her body and then she would be his for the rest of her life. Only his. Climbing onto the bed, he moved forward as if he was on the hunt, stalking his prey and laying in wait for any signs of flight. He felt his eyes sharpening and his nostrils flaring with the scent of her fear and reluctant arousal, tonight she would be his.

“This wolf grows restless” He panted in her ear as he gripped her right thigh.

Pushing her legs wider to make room for him he caught a glimpse of the pinkness that awaited him. Roughly forcing her down on the bed his body quickly followed, as he aligned his hips with her bare centre.

Staring into his darkening eyes Neema began to squirm underneath his heavy body, her hips rubbing against his as tried to overthrow him off her body and her legs pushing against the mattress, making a perfect ladle for him to lay in.

Feeling the rock hard evidence of his willingness to participate Neema put more effort into her struggles, what was once feeble pushing of his body became harsh scratching and ripping of flesh. The coppery scent of blood only adding to the heated atmosphere.

She could not believe that not only was he prepared to actually secure the bond but that he was willing to do it in a room full of eager wolves, it should have been no surprise to her as they were feral animals in every sense of their being. Still, Neema had held out hope for some humanity.

She had been almost certain that he was going to change his mind.

What a fool she had been.