The Barbarian's Captive Read Free

the far side of the camp. He counted seven females inside, the struggling wild cat over his shoulder making their total count eight.
    What a blessing the Maker has gifted us with today!
    They had come to hunt big game… and found a quarry much more valuable. He could hardly wait to get her to his tent and test their compatibility. If they were a positive match as he expected them to be, and at first glance her form and features appeared remarkably like a Primarian’s, he could move forward with the breaching and mate bonding. As her soft form shifted on his shoulder, her full breasts rubbing against his back, Kerr’s body stirred, giving him even more hope that the females would be the answer to their prayers.
    A cheer went up as twelve of his warriors came out to greet his arrival. “Max Kerr has caught a female of his own,” one shouted.
    Another called, “Maker be praised!”
    “The time to rejoice is when we get them home,” Kerr warned. “They may have protectors about.” He looked to Lothar, Trask’s second in command. “Have you set patrols?”
    “Yes, Princep. We have established a safe perimeter of one hundred gradions.”
    Kerr nodded in approval as he set his female down, keeping a firm grip on one of her arms to keep her by his side. Although the chase had been exhilarating, he’d expended too much energy capturing the little nymph to let her escape him now. As if sensing his worry, Mordrun, his kinsman and one of their elders, called to him.
    “We have cages set up for containment, Kerr. After hearing how they mewl and carry on, I ordered them placed on the other side of the camp. I didn’t want them disturbing your rest.”
    Glancing at the detested cages intended for animals, not potential mates of warriors, he noticed that most of the small creatures were huddled together watching them warily, some whimpered, while a few sobbed unrestrainedly. One stood at the bars, the female taller and more muscular than the others, but no less beautiful. She silently stared out at them through glistening eyes. He sensed anger and hostility, more so than fear; this one would warrant watching.
    Glancing down at his own female, he noticed her eyes were dry. As one of the smallest of the women, the top of her head only reached the middle of his chest, yet she bravely faced her enemy without weeping. Her gaze was filled with wariness as it darted around the encampment, openly sizing up her situation with a shrewd calmness. It was fitting that this intrepid female should be his.
    The instant she spotted the cage, she sucked in a horrified gasp of air and began pulling against his grip.
    “Be still, mate,” he murmured in her ear, both of his hands firmly restraining her as he drew her against his much larger body. Perhaps understanding his tone, if not his words, she quieted.
    Escape being a prime concern, he knew a cage would be the safest place for her, though it bothered him greatly. She didn’t deserve to be punished for running and fighting for her freedom, an instinctive response in all creatures when threatened. In her place, he would have done the same — except he wouldn’t have run, instead battling with all of his strength, never giving up until the Maker himself had claimed the life from his body.
    His gaze returned to the cage and homed in on the angry female. She grasped the bars in a white-knuckled grip, as though barely holding her emotions in check. Kerr knew the humiliation of treating them like cattle was not going to aid their cause in making them biddable.
    “Caging them may not be the most prudent approach if we mean to mate with them, Mordrun.”
    “We would be blessed if that were the case, but the prospect is highly unlikely. Look at them. They are so small. I doubt they would be able to safely deliver a warrior’s offspring. I don’t see the appeal.”
    “If that is true, I think your palm has been your consort for entirely too long,” Trask declared with a hearty laugh. “Open