flanks. The pale color suited her wildly flowing hair and now flashing eyes, although she was quick to avoid his own.
Groaning inwardly, Thorn schooled his features and moved to open the panel and usher Adara through to where their transport waited. She was going to test his patience the whole trip to the farm, especially when he wouldn’t allow himself carnal knowledge of her until with Kellis and Orion. He didn’t trust himself with her, at least not until she embraced her submissiveness and surrendered. At least she wasn’t the fragile flower he’d assumed her to be. Adara was a strong, powerful woman and a perfect mate for them all.
****
The mode of transportation he guided her to wasn’t like anything she’d seen before. It was quite large and would likely hold up to ten people. And it was armored, like the pictures she’d seen of military vehicles on gaming devices. Just how dangerous was Virile? Stepping inside, she cautiously sank down on a bench covered in a thick cushion. She controlled a wince, not wanting him to see how he’d affected her, but her bottom hurt . Much of the interior was filled with boxes and crates she believed she’d seen on the craft that brought her here, other benches folded up into the wall to make room. She realized they would make up into a large bed once the cargo was removed and wondered if the brothers used the vehicle for seduction or if sometimes they were required to use it as an abode. The front panels sported a myriad of lights and controls beneath a darkened expanse of glass. The suns hadn’t yet set so she supposed the glass had UV filters built in, as on her own planet, although they had but the one sun.
There was a tiny closet built into one wall, the crates stacked to give access to it. She stared at it.
“That contains facilities. One cannot relieve oneself outside of the vehicle, Adara. It is too dangerous unless someone is on guard, and you are not yet aware of what to defend against.”
Again she only nodded. While she was curious and actually quite interested in learning more about her home for the next month, she didn’t want to engage with her captor any more than absolutely necessary. Stockholm Syndrome was an ancient tale, but one still written in books, and she had read about it.
Thorn’s huff of breath definitely spoke of exasperation, but he didn’t say anything, merely taking his place beside her on the bench as the door sealed shut with an anguished hiss. The hum of electronics filled the silence as the interior darkened slightly and the controls illuminated to a greater degree. Adara watched his big hands dance over the panels in an orchestrated dance that spoke to long practice. Practice. She squinted her eyes and tried to remember Samuel’s lessons as the vehicle surged into motion and they were away, the port receding in the distance. There was nothing ahead but the beginning of darkening shadows as the suns began to sink beneath the horizon, throwing the last of the golden rays against the desiccated earth.
“Remove the dress.”
Holy angels. Any sense of calm dissipated. Trying to control her breathing, aware that his peremptory order somehow made her pussy damp, Adara obeyed. She didn’t want another lesson . The material caressed her skin as she awkwardly pulled it from beneath her thighs and buttocks and then past her waist to tug it over her head. Thorn took it from her and tossed it behind them.
“You will be naked with us unless we tell you differently.”
She couldn’t help but glance out the window.
“We will protect your privacy, Adara, as you will come to learn, unless we find sharing your beauty is something you require.”
“Sharing? With more than you and your brothers?” Her voice squeaked with horror, and she swallowed against bile.
His tone turned cold, and he fixed that disturbing gaze on her. “No one will touch you other than us three, Adara.”
So what did he mean by sharing? She wanted to ask, but he
Learning to Kill: Stories