DarkRevenge (3 page)

The Judge gave her a long look. No, she wasn’t supposed to
respond until the Judge spoke, but she couldn’t help it. She set her lips to
force the words of denial back down. The Judge nodded and slipped the next disc
in.

This one was identical to the one she’d seen at the Tribunal
that convicted Tory. It was the same bunker, the same men. Except for Tory
Ingle. He was nowhere in the video. In the video she’d seen, Tory had taken
money from Teran Four soldiers to surrender his men’s names and locations—men
who later appeared lifeless in a taunting video from Teran Four. The only
problem was that instead of Tory’s face, the man who actually took the money
was…Samuel.

Hot tears burned the inside of her eyelids. Her chest
tightened and her throat closed. It couldn’t be. Her brother was the traitor?
But why?

The silence in the room was deafening.

“Do you dispute the evidence?” the Judge asked her gently.

She lifted her blurred gaze to meet his. “I am no vid
expert.”

“I am,” the Judge said calmly. “These are genuine vids. The
one presented to your planet’s Tribunal was altered. I am…disappointed that
their verdict was guilty.”

“You’re asking me to believe my brother betrayed our planet,
our king, our family. He couldn’t do it!” She clenched her jaw and tried to
keep the tears at bay. Not once through the whole show did she glance at Tory.
She couldn’t stand to see his triumph, his smile, his—

When she looked at him she didn’t see any of that. He
seemed…sad. She blinked. Her world was upside down. But the
Saria
ceremony wasn’t over and she had to hold it together until the Judge of Light
completed it, even though she was dizzy. This was no time to faint.

“I am the Judge of Light. In accordance with Ardasian Code
and Teran law, I have read the minds of the principals involved. I declare the
accusations and subsequent punishment delivered on Commander Tory Ingle were
false and detrimental to his bloodline.” The Ardasian spoke and he laid his
palms flat on the table. “This verdict is rendered. Commander Alexandra Zeerah
is considered
Saria
to Tory Ingle. No other member of the Zeerah
bloodline may be harmed in this act of revenge.” The Judge frowned at Tory.
“You may choose the
Saria’s
fate. Death, slavery or mate.”

A small sound escaped Alex. This was it. The judgment had
come down and she’d lost. Celeste would be married to a stranger. Her land, her
family bloodline would be absorbed but never be freed from the obligation now
forced upon it. Just as Tory’s bloodline was tainted by the lies that convicted
him, hers was destroyed by her brother’s betrayal. The Zeerahs would cease to
exist as a recognized founding family on Teran One.

“I am no fool,” Tory’s voice sounded harsh. “Death or
slavery will not give me what I wish. Though I could seek to carry on my line
with another, only a woman from my home planet will keep the Teran One genes
intact and the Ingle family bloodline’s place maintained.” He kept his gaze on
the Ardasian. “My undiluted bloodline ends with me unless I find a way to
continue it.”

She gasped and stared at him. Was he insane? She wouldn’t do
it. He couldn’t seriously think she’d be his—

“I choose mate.” Tory held her stare.

“No! I will not—” she shouted, but the Judge pounded the
table sharply.

“He has the right.” His tone brooked no argument. “Tory
Ingle has accepted Alexandra as his mate. The rules of
Saria
apply. She
will not harm herself or her children. She will accept this fate or her
bloodline is forfeit.” The Judge’s solemn eyes met hers. “If you deny this
mating, it is his right to claim the other in the bloodline.”

“No!” she shouted.

“If the
Saria
refuses the mating, Celeste Zeerah will
take her place.”

“Judge,” Tory broke in. The Ardasian swerved his solemn gaze
to Tory.

“I allow amendments to the contract.”

She jerked her head to stare at Tory. It was rare. The
ceremony was often used as an accepted form of rape, violence. Amendments were
created for men who wanted a true mate.

Dizziness made her head swim. It was too much. The Judge’s
voice seemed far away, like he was down a long corridor. Tory’s face swam in
front of her. “Alex? Alex?”

“A safeword, Commander Zeerah.” The Judge’s face drifted
before hers as he peered at her. Where was Tory?

“A safeword?” she said. It took a lot of effort to get those
two words out. A safeword. Her ability to stop any action that may harm her,
make her uncomfortable. A common amendment.

“One word.” The Judge’s green eyes seemed to glow now.

“Betrayed,” she whispered and the darkness closed in.

“Done.” And with that one word, she became the mate of Tory
Ingle, bad boy of Teran space.

* * * * *

Had it all been a bad dream? Alex blinked her eyes and
focused. Tory’s face hovered over hers. She was on his bed, in his quarters, at
his mercy. She was his
Saria,
the object of his revenge. His mate. Teran
One law was clear. Until his thirst for revenge was sated, he could do as he
wished. As long as he could prove he had a right to take her.

And he’d proven it, according to all the Teran One
traditions.

It all could have been so different. If she hadn’t believed
everything she’d seen. If she’d trusted her heart instead of her mind. If she
hadn’t turned her back on the one man who meant anything at all to her.

“Such pretty tears,” he said, finally, his gaze cold. All
the pity and warmth she’d seen in the conference room was gone. “I wonder if
you realize now how much trouble you’re in.” He lifted his body off hers and
jerked her to her feet. She didn’t have time to fight him when he yanked her
closer and wrenched her arms behind her back. “Before you destroyed me, you
should have known who you were dealing with.”

“What do you mean?” She’d known. He was a bad boy, a man who
fought fiercely, but only in his own best interests. He loved his men, but
because they fought by his side, not because of who they were. Oh she knew him,
all right. He gambled, flew by the seat of his pants and fucked any woman who
let him. The word duty wasn’t in the man’s vocabulary. She knew exactly who,
and what, he was. She knew he liked rain, and how children made him smile and—

“I mean that I have deviant tastes,” he said as he grinned
at her. Her heart pounded and sweat dripped from her forehead. He nodded.
“That’s right. I like my sex rough and my women restrained. And since you’d
probably kill me if you could, it’s a good thing I do. For me. Not so much for
you.”

He flicked a button on a huge console near the door. A large
metal…
thing
dropped from the ceiling and her heart almost jumped out of
her chest. A long beam the length of the room held several different hooks,
cuffs, leather straps and other things that she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t
help it. She trembled.

“Please, Tory,” she said, trying not to sound like she was
begging, even though she was. “Don’t do this. My family left me money—” She
sucked in a breath as he jerked on her arms, tightening his hold.

The grin was gone and his gaze glittered. Why hadn’t she
noticed the cruelty in his eyes before this? Because she’d avoided his gaze,
afraid to fall for his seduction and drown. Now, they shone with evil intent.

“This isn’t about money. This is about revenge.” He kicked
her feet into two metal restraints that she hadn’t noticed on the floor. Then
he roughly clicked her wrists into restraints that had her arms extended to the
ceiling. He picked up his laser pistol and aimed it at her body.

She tensed, even though she was well aware he had no
intention of killing her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t maim her, cut her. After
all, she could still serve her purpose as his mate and continue the bloodline,
even with scars. She closed her eyes, but his image was burned into her brain.

When she’d first met him, he’d resembled an Old Earth pirate
with his black hair and seductive blue eyes. He’d swaggered, he’d joked, he’d
had no sense of the seriousness of his missions. Even as a Black Ops officer,
he was a wild card. But he always got the job done. His lack of respect for
authority kept him from promotions, but his men loved him. Women fawned over
him but he didn’t brag. The women did. How “good” he was, how skilled he was.

But then, those women hadn’t banished him from his home. She
had.

The restraints bit into her wrists and her ankles throbbed.
Her arms were already sore from being splayed in this position. Then, heat on
her shoulder made her jerk. Her eyes flew open. He used the laser pistol as a
cutting tool, slicing through the material of her uniform.

With precision, he cut through her clothes, her bra, her
underwear and cold air hit her body as the shredded material dropped to the
floor in burning bits. She shivered. Naked, unable to cover herself and
completely exposed to his gaze, she wanted to die. Was this what he wanted? Her
humiliation? Her subjugation? She wasn’t going to submit or surrender. She
straightened her back and met his stare but almost glanced away when she noted
the desire in his.

He took his time studying every inch of her. His gaze
trailed heat over her skin as her body betrayed her. Her nipples tightened and
she wanted to scream in frustration. She didn’t want to want him. This was
going to be rape. He would have to take her by force. She yanked on her wrists
restraints, oblivious to the pain. She had to get away from him. Her pussy
started to heat.

She was enjoying this.

How could that be? How could her body like the restraints,
the way his eyes devoured her? How could she want this so much? She fought
harder. If she didn’t get free, her humiliation would be more than if he raped
her. She’d surrender.

“You know the requirements.” His gaze focused on her breasts
and her nipples puckered more, reaching out for him. Requirements? Hell, she
knew them better than anyone. To complete the ceremony of the
Saria
, he
had to consummate the mating. It was his part, his duty.

“I’ll fight you,” she spat, even as her body betrayed her,
her pussy throbbing, her breath coming fast.

“Please do,” he said and he smirked. “I always knew you were
the woman for me.” She wanted to hit him, wipe that satisfied grin off his
face. She kicked against the ankle restraints. She would be bloody and bruised
before she’d let this happen. She fought both him and herself.

When his hand closed over her breast and his fingers stroked
her erect nipple, she lost the battle. Her head dropped back and her body
trembled. “Noooo.” Tears squeezed from her eyes.

“You’ve always wanted me, Alexandra. And I’m going to prove
it.” His hands cupped her breasts and she gasped. Her pussy ached, wet and
needy. He stared at her, his gaze on her face, his hands dancing over her tits.

She bit her lip to stop a groan from escaping her dry mouth.
Pinpricks of need shot through her. God, she wanted this, his hands on her, his
fingers warm on her skin. She jerked against the restraints, but this time
because her hips rotated with unspoken, embarrassing desire.

He lowered his head and his mouth claimed hers. There was no
persuasion, no seduction. He took, she gave. His tongue plundered her mouth and
sent her senses reeling. Every thought of resisting him dissolved and her head
swam. There was no anger, no accusation in his kiss. Only passion. She wanted
it. All of it.

His fingers rolled her nipples and she arched into his
hands. Helpless, enthralled, his. Maybe she’d always been his. She’d lived on
his kiss—the one kiss they’d shared—for a year. It had been a sweet, passionate
meeting of lips and tongues. Not like this. Not possessive, demanding and
overwhelming.

One of his hands slid down her body, leaving a trail of fire
on her stomach, her hip, and he finally reached her clitoris. His fingers
flicked the bundle of nerves, his mouth never leaving hers, his other hand
rolling her nipple. The combination of sensations overloaded her and made her
head spin. Her pussy clenched and she thrust toward his hand. He responded and
slipped two fingers into her slick channel. He tore his mouth away and hovered
over hers. “Say the word. Say the safeword and I’ll stop.”

Her gaze held his. She could say it. The safeword was her
right, her power, but her body throbbed and ached for him to finish what he
started. His fingers in her pussy, his breath hot on her face, his wicked mouth
a hairsbreadth away from hers.

When she said nothing, he captured her lips in a bruising
kiss. She groaned into his mouth and twined her tongue around his. Whatever
their differences, in the face of this…this…passion, she couldn’t deny him. For
five dull years she had ignored what her body knew in this moment. No one had
aroused her, made her laugh, or touched her heart the way he had. The thought,
fleeting and startling, created fear tinged with relief. All that was swept
away by his insistent touch. His fingers slid in and out, faster, faster. Oh
God, she couldn’t control her body or her mind anymore. She wanted him. She
wanted his dick inside her. She wanted him to fuck her blind.

It was incredible and humiliating and overwhelming all at
the same time. There was no conscious thought, no resentment left. There was
only this burning need in her belly that ached and longed for more. He drove
her on, his talented fingers beckoning her to the edge and, finally, over it.
Her pussy convulsed around his fingers, the pleasure washing over her like
water. He broke the kiss and whispered, “Scream for me, Alexandra.”

His fingers pumped inside her until she convulsed again, her
body slammed with hot need and desire, her orgasm going on and on. Control
slipped from her fingers. He gave her orders as if she could choose to disobey
him. Choice? What was choice in the face of
this
? The pain within mixed
with the physical pain and sobs tore from her throat. She did scream. His name.
“Tory!”