Deal Breaker

Feedback: Yes, desperately, any kind, anywhere.
Archive: Yes, PBBS, AoVD.
Notes: I know I said no sequel, but the muse had other ideas.
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So it sounds like I found happily ever after, right? C’mon, whaddaya think this is? A fairytale?

My Predator might have saved me, but there was nothing heroic about it. I think he saw them cooping me up in a top secret facility for the rest of my life to be a waste of a good piece of ass. One he had test driven and had better uses for.

Once we get to his ship, he can’t get me naked fast enough, confirming my suspicion. The last thing I want down there among those stitches is his big ole cock. When he sees them, he growls in frustration, finally seeming to understand why I’ve been fighting him so hard.

“Okay,” he says, grudgingly.

Before I can stop him, he takes a small, sharp knife and cuts them out. I scream louder than I ever have in my whole life, sure I’m gonna be in agony once my tortured flesh realizes what he’s done. While I melt down, he pays me absolutely no mind. His back is to me while he rummages around. It sounds like he’s looking for something. I’m just about to start yelling directly at him when he turns around and sprays some kind of warm gel between my legs. Suddenly, I’m numb down there. Completely and totally numb. The absence of any discomfort is a Godsend. He puts my knees together and gazes down at me. Despite not being able to fuck me, he seems disturbingly glad to see me.

“Thanks,” I say, really meaning it.

While he may have taken me to be his sex toy, at least I’m going somewhere beyond four white walls, and I know I’ll eventually get to have something in my pussy that’s lots better than a speculum. I’m also grateful for the numbing medicine.

The Predator studies me curiously, and then offers me his hand. I take it and sit up, feeling awkward. Up to now, our interactions have consisted of him terrorizing me or both of us fucking. I have no idea what his name is, or even if he has a name.

“Chak’tou,” he says, pointing at his chest.

“Gesundheit,” I reply automatically.

His facial appendages flutter. “What?” he asks. He knows more English than I expect. He thumps his chest and repeats, “Chak’tou!”

That’s his name, stupid, I realize, blushing profusely. Well, duh.

I thump my chest. “Kat.”

“Kat,” he repeats, pointing at me. Well, he gets the IQ points this round.

“Chak’tou,” I confirm, pointing back.

He seems very satisfied with the exchange, says something in his language, and looks at me expectantly. I shake my head, not sure how to tell him I have no clue. His response is to pick me up, set me on the floor and start pulling me along. I resist, gesturing at my complete lack of clothing, since he has now destroyed a second set of my clothes. My protests don’t even slow him down. Apparently, Chak’tou has decided I don’t need clothes anymore.

I follow him into the next room, where he seats me at a Predator-sized table. My bare feet dangle inches from the floor. He starts digging in something that looks for all the world like a well. Presently, he fishes a large hunk of meat out of it, thudding it down on the table between us. Thankfully, it appears to have been cooked. He repeats the word he used earlier.

That must mean eat or food or something, I surmise.

Chak’tou offers me no utensils of any kind, making me wonder how we’re going to eat. He sits down, gouges out a chunk of meat with his claws and proceeds to rip it to shreds with his powerful mouth, purring while he eats. I look at my little nails and wonder what I’m supposed to do. I try digging at my side of the meat with them, to no avail. Climbing up on the table, I try to gnaw a piece off it, hoping this isn’t bad form. Chak’tou stops eating to watch me tear off tiny bits at a time. Finally, he shakes his head dubiously and takes pity on me. Carving out a second lump of meat, he hands it to me. It takes both my hands to hold it

I scurry off the table and attack this more manageable bit, suddenly ravenous. The meat is like nothing I’ve ever eaten before, but it’s quite tasty. To my amazement, I eat the entire thing. Chak’tou sets some round, sweet-smelling fruits in front of me, which also disappear quickly. He sets a flagon of water in front of each of us next. I down the whole thing immediately. By the time I finish that, I’m finally full. But I’m covered with meat and fruit juice and have nothing to clean up with.

Chak’tou watches me look at my torso and hands in sticky distress. He laughs at me, picks me up and takes me into what must be the bathroom, shoving me into a shower-like cell. I’m immediately lost in a cloud of mist almost too hot for me to stand. A moment later, it vanishes, along with all evidence of my recent meal. The heat saps my limited strength so that when Chak’tou opens the door, I collapse into him. I’m barely conscious of being carried and laid down on something soft before my eyelids droop closed.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I’m quite warm. I feel a whole lot better than the last time I woke up. I don’t seem to be in pain anywhere anymore. I flex the muscles between my legs and everything feels perfectly normal. It’s as if nothing had ever happened. If it wasn’t for the fact that Chak’tou is sleeping naked against my back, I’d almost have wondered if getting raped by a Predator had been some kind of strange dream.

What the hell was that stuff you put on me? Predators must be better at medical stuff than we are.

As I listen to his deep, even breathing, I wonder what’s going to happen to me now. If we haven’t left Earth yet, we undoubtedly will soon. What will happen to me then? I have lots of questions but no answers and no easy way to get them. Behind me, Chak’tou stirs. I feel his face against the back of my head. Even though he doesn’t have a nose I’ve been able to find, he somehow manages to analyze scents. He’s inhaling the femaleness of me, so it’s not surprising when he trills.

If I’m truly healed, he’ll fuck me. That’s what I’m here for. It’s why Chak’tou took me. I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen once he gets tired of fucking me. But I’m a practical woman, and I’m pretty good at living in the present, so I set aside all concerns about what could happen and focus on the now. Now is his ready cock rubbing against my bare ass and my bladder complaining it’s full. I scamper out of bed and sprint to the bathroom.

I find what must be the toilet, sit on it and relieve myself. As I look around for something to wipe myself with, I feel a strange dry sucking sensation and every bit of liquid vanishes. Looking down between my legs, I see only a shallow, empty bowl beneath me. I have no idea what just happened, but since I can’t find any toilet paper, I’m grateful. Chak’tou comes in as I vacate the throne and does the same thing, not seeming to care that I watch how the toilet works, fascinated. I wish I could figure out the mechanism, because I could get rich in a hurry if I could patent it and sell it.

Chak’tou, however, has things on his mind other than the function of his toilet. He grabs me by the scruff of the neck and steers me back to his bed. He forces me to lie down and spread my legs. His gaze is clinical rather than lascivious; he wants to see if I’ve healed enough. He must like what he sees, because I feel him slide a finger experimentally into me and move it around in a circle, pressing outward. There is no pain, no feeling I was ever torn. In fact, it feels good enough to make me sigh.

He withdraws his finger, brings it to his mouth and appears to be sniffing it, his eyes half-closed. When he runs his tongue along it, tasting me, I feel a flush of warmth below my belly. It’s hard not to remember how that tongue felt where his finger just was. His wide pupils tell me he hasn’t forgotten either. When he pushes my legs further apart and drops his head between them, there’s no fight in me, only anticipation. Chak’tou is very slow this time, his tongue stroking me with minute flicks that make me quiver and moan softly. His fingers massage my thighs as he feasts on me, working his tongue gradually inward.

The sensation is nothing but exquisite. Due to that wonderful medication he put on me, whatever damage I suffered during our first meeting is entirely gone. I feel only his insistent exploration. His hands slide up from the insides of my thighs to my hips to hold me still and open, despite my attempts to get him off my almost too sensitive flesh. He rides my clit until I lose it in self-defense. I can feel Chak’tou start to purr as I come, sliding his tongue up inside me. I want something else up there, however.

I reach down, grab some of his dreads and pull hard. He roars at the sudden pain and releases me. I scramble out from under Chak’tou and sit up on the far end of the bed so I can actually take a good look at him. He flares his mouth at me until he realizes what I’m doing, relaxing as I peruse his nakedness. He’s as impressive as I expected him to be, massively muscled without an ounce of fat. His skin is prettier than I realized. It’s intricately patterned, dark grey spots on grayish green skin. Every inch of him seems to be like that, including his cock, something I hadn’t noticed the last time I saw it. It’s obvious Chak’tou’s pretty tough. He’s got scars on him from wounds that prob’ly would’ve killed me, but they don’t detract from him. If anything, they accentuate how very male he is.

He trills at me impatiently. What he wants needs no translation. This time, Chak’tou grabs my arm, pulls me towards him, turns me about and pushes me forward. He wants to take me from the back. I get up onto my hands and knees and present to him. I can feel him cover me immediately, his big shaft looking for my pussy. When he enters me, I groan at how good he feels. Even though I’m very full, it doesn’t hurt, and when he starts to move, I get no twinges that suggest I could be tearing again.

When he realizes I’m not reacting as if there is any pain, he stops being gentle with me. I like being ridden hard, so this is okay with me. I revel in his thrusting, pushing back against him. Above me, Chak’tou growls and purrs, his outer teeth clicking, and sounds like he’s having a mighty good time. As he approaches climax, his great arms wrap around me and he sinks his teeth into my shoulder. This is no nip; I’m pretty sure he’s broken the skin and has no intention of letting go. I think of lions anchoring themselves to lionesses when they fuck. The pain isn’t unbearable and the whole idea is enough to send me over the top. I scream, rhythmically squeezing his cock with strong spasms as I come. He roars and goes off right after me, grinding deep into me.

At last, Chak’tou is spent. He releases my shoulder and I can feel him licking my wounds. I get the impression this is natural and normal for his species; female Predators must get bitten, too. Since I’m not in pain, he stays inside me this time, savoring the tight fit. His arms unwrap from around my body. One of them takes some of his weight from me while the other moves so his hand can play with my long hair.

“Kat,” he rasps, sounding pleased. “Mine.”

I wonder what that word means to him. I know I certainly feel possessed at the moment, but I doubt what he said is only a response to our physical connection. Although Chak’tou took me and I’m at his mercy, what does that mean in his society? Does he truly own me? Am I a slave now? I suppose time will tell.

******

As I expected, time does eventually tell. Since Chak’tou destroyed the only set of clothes I had, I have nothing to wear. He either can’t or won’t understand my requests for new ones, so I get used to being naked. Since he took me for sex, he wants it early and often. I never know when or where he will grab me. Luckily, I’m a horny bitch by nature, so this is fine for awhile.

Even I have my limits, though. One day, he wakes me up with a raging erection. We had fucked late into the previous night and I’m tired and a little sore. I need more recovery time than he wants to give me. I grumble at him and roll over. Chak’tou is having none of it.

“Mine!” he roars, incensed.

His unexpected anger terrifies me. Since I have no option for flight, I fight him. This only adds fuel to his fire. He backhands me hard enough to make me almost lose consciousness. In the next minute, I regret the almost part, because he flat out rapes me. I’m on my back, his weight pinning me so hard I can barely breathe. I am absolutely not ready for him. He takes me dry and it hurts like hell. If I could draw breath, I would scream. Even after weeks of constant sex, without my natural lubrication, I tear. At least my blood allows him to slide easier. I writhe and cry out in pain, but Chak’tou doesn’t care. He’s proving a point to me.

I am a slave. His slave. I have no right to say no to him. It isn’t going to matter to him whether I want it or not. I’m going to get it. Everything I’ve been refusing to think about for weeks comes crashing down on me while he punishes me.

I miss you, Mama, I think, fat tears rolling down the sides of my face.

We don’t talk all that much since I got sent halfway around the world, but in this moment, I would kill to have her here to hold me after this awfulness is over. I miss my little sisters, who would use all their teenage worldliness to commiserate with me. I can just hear Jen saying, ‘Well, of course, he would be an asshole; he’s fucking ugly!’ It makes me laugh inside a sob.

I haven’t seen daylight or sunshine in weeks. I miss the blue skies and the green forests of Central America. I miss my planet. Everything smells and tastes wrong here. The food is filling but monotonous: I would kill for a spicy chicken fajita. Hell, I would even eat broccoli, my number one most hated food.

But that’s gone, all of it. I simply traded one prison for another. I’m no freer with Chak’tou than I would’ve been with military intelligence. I get fucked by something either way. In my bitter acceptance of reality, I don’t even notice when Chak’tou finishes. Once he withdraws from me, I roll into a tight ball of sobbing misery, my torn flesh burning. He leaves me like that.

I have no desire after that, period. It’s as if he flipped a switch. Chak’tou knows it, too. He can rape me, but he can’t make me like it. I tear and he repairs me, I tear and he repairs me. Wash, rinse, repeat. I avert my face, bite my lip and take it, radiating hatred and disgust. I can tell this isn’t what he wants, but he broke me and doesn’t know how to fix me. Even if I could speak his language, I dunno that I could tell him how. Finally, he simply leaves me alone. I guess the sex is too unsatisfying even for him.

Since I’m no good as a sex toy, I figure I’m due for a date with the airlock pretty soon. That’s surely what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten sick. I wake up one day with a blistering high fever. My muscles and joints ache. I can’t keep anything in or down. It’s as if my body is trying to turn inside out or something. Chak’tou is mystified. None of the medications he has seem to help. Finally, as I can feel myself slipping away, he brings a needle full of something fluorescent green. I’m too weak to protest as he injects me. As I pass out, I assume the shot was meant to put me out of my misery.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

When I wake up, all evidence of my illness is gone. Instead, I have an insatiable need to be fucked. I don’t want to fuck Chak’tou, my captor and rapist, but he’s the only male here. Frantically, I rub my swollen clit, but orgasm brings no relief. Several orgasms bring no relief. It’s as if my desire is stuck in overdrive. That’s how Chak’tou finds me, with a sticky hand between my legs. He couldn’t be happier.

There’s something different about how he approaches me, though. He can’t seem to get enough of the scent of me, running his face and his tongue all over my skin and purring deeply. Even though he’s not concentrating on my breasts or between my legs, I find what he’s doing incredibly sensual. My whole body seems to have turned into one giant sex organ. I writhe, moaning in ecstasy, content to let him do whatever he wants to me.

Chak’tou has never been this … loving … towards me before. There is no other way to describe how he handles me. His touch is meant to elicit maximum pleasure from me and it does. Desire courses through me in delicious waves as he lightly skims my flesh with his claws. The minute scratching feels so good it makes me cry. He plays with me until I’m about to lose my mind, until there is no help for it but one.

“Fuck me!” my mouth cries, with no prompting from me.

Chak’tou pulls his face into what I have learned is a Predator smile. He picks me up, puts me against the nearest wall and sheathes himself with me. I’m so ready that his entrance makes me come. He laughs at me, but he’s not making fun of me. There is pure delight in the sound.

It’s clear he wants access to the front of me. His hot, bright eyes watch my face as he torments my nipples while he fucks me. I can’t help it. I arch into him, pushing my hips into his, my breasts into his hands. Sex has never been such pure bliss before; I can’t seem to get enough. We fuck for hours, all over the ship, finally collapsing in exhaustion.

As I pillow Chak’tou’s head on my chest, I no longer hate him. I feel satisfied on some very deep level that makes no sense to me. He purrs, gently stroking my belly, while I play with the rings on one of his dreadlocks.

“Mine,” I say, wondering what his reaction will be.

His purr deepens and his embrace tightens. At least for the moment, he doesn’t seem to mind being owned, either. That’s not all that seems to have changed. When we rouse, hours later, I’m pretty sore and he’s got an erection. He approaches me with it, but I’m so completely and totally fucked out that I really don’t want to. However, knowing he’ll simply force me, I spread myself and wait.

To my surprise, he turns my face to look at him. “No?” Chak’tou asks.

“No,” I confirm, daring to trust the openness in his yellow eyes.

“Okay,” he says, and ambles into the bathroom.

What the fuck just happened? I am completely floored.

This is no fluke. Like magic, when I don’t want to, we don’t. It’s as if Chak’tou has become a completely different person. He caters to my every whim. When I’m hungry, which seems to be often since I got sick, he gets me food. I ask for something to wear and he gets me a shirt. It’s huge because it’s his, but I can now be dressed from shoulder to mid-calf when I want. I finally convey that I want to see outside and he shows me the incredible field of stars. The sheer size of the universe is breathtaking. I realize I’m seeing a sight few humans will ever get to see. I reconsider my choice to go with Chak’tou in a more favorable light.

Once I know Chak’tou will take no for an answer when I really don’t want to, I find him difficult to resist. I even startle him by introducing him to oral sex. I know he’s never had it before by the way he panics when he sees where my mouth is going. I finally convince him to trust me with his cock, a decision he doesn’t regret. I smile as I hear him gasp when my tongue runs along his length. I play him like he plays me, exploring every centimeter, refusing to give him release until I choose. When I finally wrap my mouth around his full to bursting head, he explodes down my throat, unable to contain it. I milk him while I fondle his sac. He makes noises I would’ve thought were physically impossible as he comes. He finally forces me to stop, so sensitive it hurts. I recognize the look of adoration I get. It must be male rather than human.

“Yours,” he sighs.

I now own an eight-foot-tall, horny as hell killing machine. And it ain’t half bad.

*****

I’m sure you’re thinking, okay, now it’s happily ever after, right? Well, cynical me is about convinced of it, too, right up until I throw up. A nagging little voice in the back of my head whispers the p word, because I’ve been healthy as an ox ever since Chak’tou gave me that shot. My rational mind trots out all the logical arguments. You know, like, You’re on birth control, He’s an alien, It’s genetically impossible, etc., etc. I cling to those arguments for two days. When I throw up on the third day, I know.

Thinking about it, I even know when it happened. It was right after I woke up healthy, after Chak’tou gave me that shot, whatever it was. My mind flashes back to how he’s touched me since then, especially his tendency to stroke my stomach. He’s been different towards me because he knows I’m carrying his child. I don’t know how he knows, but he knows.

The idea of having Chak’tou’s child terrifies me. Not only am I completely and totally unprepared to become a mother, I don’t know what manner of child I’ll have. Even though Chak’tou can make me feel good enough to forget he’s an alien at times, the fact is he’s butt ugly. How will I feel about a Predator child? Considering how much bigger he is than I am, will I be able to carry it to term and give birth to it without it killing me?

Mama! I think, wishing desperately for interstellar cell phones.

I can’t help but yell at Chak’tou the next time I see him. He is, of course, utterly mystified. After all, as far as he understands, he’s been incredibly good to me, so why am I upset? Finally, I stab an accusing finger at my stomach.

“I’m pregnant!” I shout like an idiot American might to a foreigner who doesn’t understand English, as if volume alone can somehow transmit understanding.

I think the gesture is what finally gets it across to him. He smiles and comes to rub my belly.

“Mine,” he says with considerable pride. “Yours.”

“Ours,” I supply, morosely, knowing that’s the word he needs.

I don’t want to cry but, of course, I do. To his credit, Chak’tou tries to make me feel better. He chitters softly at me in his incomprehensible language, finally resorting to holding me and purring. He seems quite disturbed by how upset I am, a complete turnabout from the creature who raped me not so very long ago. All I can think is that his society must hold mothers in very high esteem, and I am going to be a mother soon.

******

The human capacity to roll with the punches is a true marvel. By the time we reach Chak’tou’s planet, I’m showing. I can feel my baby move inside me. And it has become, by some mechanism as old as time, my baby. I stroke my belly and think about what he will be like when he’s born. I say “he” because I know it’s a boy. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

Leaving the safety of Chak’tou’s ship on his planet is a shock to my system. It’s very hot and the air is so dense, it’s hard for me to breathe. There are thousands upon thousands of Predators and every last eye is fixed balefully on me. I remember they hunt us, something I’ve tried very hard to forget ever since the day I made the mistake of opening Chak’tou’s trophy case not too long after I realized I was pregnant. Seeing all those skulls—and knowing where some of them had come from—had given me nightmares for weeks.

I cling to Chak’tou and go where he goes. We are ushered into a great hall that has a council of what I can only guess, based on their gray hair, must be the group in charge. My obvious condition makes them all start shouting. Some younger Predators pry me from Chak’tou and spirit me away, where they strip me, strap me to a table and leave me.

“What are you going to do to me?” I demand of the next Predator who enters the room, one I guess to be female. While she is almost as big as the males, her facial appendages are smaller, her eyes bigger and she has noticeable breasts.

She studies me quizzically for moment, and then takes a small disc and rubs it against my temple, where it sticks.

“They tell me you’re pregnant,” she says. Although I can tell she speaks to me in her own language, I understand it as English.

“You have no idea how good it is to be able to speak in whole sentences to one of you,” I gush, feeling stupid.

“Hunters don’t always carry translators,” she explains. “They don’t often need to speak to prey. Your situation is an exception. This doesn’t happen often.”

“Not every day you get half-breed kids,” I quip.

“This won’t hurt,” she promises as she affixes a long, flat strip to my rounded belly. “I’ll release you if you think you can lay still for me.”

“I will,” I promise.

Once I’m no longer strapped to the table, she pulls up a three-dimensional image viewer that appears to float in midair. After making a few adjustments, I see my son for the first time. Floating comfortably, I can see his little heart beating, his stubby mouthparts moving. The image turns slowly so I can see all sides of him. He will not look human, I realize, something that doesn’t surprise me, but he looks perfect anyway. I love him instantly, immediately and without reservation.

“He’s beautiful,” I sigh, surprising the female medic.

“You wish to keep him?” she asks, seeming startled.

“Were you going to take him?” I demand, disturbed to the depths of my soul.

I have her whole attention now. “What Chak’tou did is very wrong. We know hunters sometimes use female prey for sexual relief while out on hunt, but they’re not supposed to bring them home. They certainly aren’t supposed to make young with them.” Her disgust is obvious.

“He meant to do this?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “You got sick, didn’t you? And he gave you a shot of his blood?”

That green stuff was his blood?” He gave me a shot,” I confirm, cautiously.

“Our blood is capable of changing the body chemistry of some species. Yours is one of them. In some individuals, the change is drastic enough to allow this to happen. Most such pregnancies miscarry, but your child looks healthy and normal. You must understand he will look nothing like you and your species. He’ll be too large for you to carry to term or to deliver naturally. Even with the best of care, this pregnancy could kill you. You still wish to keep him? It’s not too late for termination.”

I look at the projection of my child wiggling his little limbs, innocently unaware we’re discussing his fate. “I can’t,” I realize. “He’s my child.”

She seems almost relieved. “I didn’t know how your species feels about young.”

I shrug. “It’s not my species. It’s just me.”

“Let me do some tests to make sure both of you are healthy,” she offers.

Her examination is much less intrusive than one I would get from an OBGYN on Earth. The only thing she does that seems remotely related to something a human doctor might do is take some of my blood.

“How is it possible for the child to look nothing like me?” I ask.

“Your chromosomes have been modified enough that they can function as recessives to ours, but all our traits will dominate.”

“So I’ll have a son that grows to be eight feet tall and has those thingies on his face?”

She actually laughs at my description. “Mandibles,” she supplies. “Yes, he’ll have those and he’ll grow up to be as big as his father is … provided the Elders and the Clan Mothers allow it.”

“The Clan Mothers?” I ask, remembering the roomful of grey-haired male Predators I had seen, but no females.

“It will be up to both groups if any of you are allowed to live.”

I digest that for a moment. “Would it be possible for Chak’tou to come talk to me? We haven’t been able to say more than a word or two at a time to each other since we met. There are a lot of things I didn’t understand and questions I couldn’t ask him.”

The medic’s mandibles tighten, thoughtfully. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promises.

I pull Chak’tou’s shirt back on and prepare to wait. She is gone perhaps fifteen minutes before he enters the room. I’m pathetically glad to see him, but I can tell he feels awkward. I do, too, knowing we can actually have a real conversation now. For a moment, neither of us can break the silence. Finally, I take the plunge.

“What will they do to us?” I ask.

His mandibles flutter and I know he’s uncomfortable. “I wasn’t supposed to bring you here,” he explains, unhappily. “When we take your females, we take them as slaves. You’re something to fuck and that’s all. The most we’re ever supposed to bring home of you is your skulls and spines, but you really aren’t even proper enough prey for that. Provided the sex doesn’t kill them, most prey females go out the airlock before we reach home. But when you got pregnant, I couldn’t do that. You were carrying my child.”

It hurts to hear his words, because he has been so tender with me I let myself believe he actually cared about me. The ugly reality is, if not for our son, I would probably be a blown out husk floating in space somewhere now.

“He’s beautiful,” I offer, as if that can somehow redeem me in his eyes. “The female who went to get you for me showed him to me.”

Chak’tou’s expression softens. “I have seen him as well, Kat. You bear me a son as fine as any Yautja female’s.”

This seems to be his way of saying I’m not a complete waste of skin. I take comfort where I can. “So what happens now?”

“Had you not been pregnant, the Clan Mothers would’ve had you killed already. Human females like you are very dangerous here.”

“Why?” I wonder, remembering the crowds of tall Predators we waded through to get here. “I’m too little to be a danger to anybody.”

He chuckles, for the first time seeming like the Chak’tou I know. “I’m sure you figured out your size is part of what interests our males. However, once human females get the shot I gave you, it changes their body chemistry so that they’re mildly in heat all the time, something none of our females can be. Because of the jealousy and hard feelings that spawns, my clan doesn’t allow human female slaves to live among us. I have heard there are some clans that do. One female I’ve heard about isn’t a slave at all. She holds a position of prominence as a fine hunter in her clan, but such things vary from clan to clan.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, fascinated in spite of myself.

“When you got pregnant, I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted. “I thought perhaps the pregnancy wouldn’t last, but as the weeks went by, it became clear it would. The child needs to be born here and raised among my people.”

“But what about me?”

What Chak’tou says next makes me think perhaps I do mean something to him after all. “I have requested permission to take you back to your own world after the baby is born.”

“Without the baby?” I cry, feeling as if a part of me will die.

“Without the baby,” he confirms, gravely.

“No deal,” I vow.