Trapped with the Cyborg Read online

  “It has,” Honna said. “All of our pools and streams have swelled over their banks.” She motioned for Reena to swim.

  “Please? Join me? We haven’t done anything for fun in a long time. It will be like it used to be.” Having desired to be alone at first, now she wished for company to relive the days when she hadn’t a care in the world. Before responsibilities then illness had taken over her life, she and her cousin used to swim together all the time. As children, they’d received lessons; Honna was a stronger swimmer than Reena even.

  “Not today.” Honna shooed her deeper. “Hurry—before she comes back.” She took a seat on the boulder.

  Reena dove into the water with a splash. She could hold her breath for many minutes—far longer than Carinda would have been comfortable with. It would have been impossible to enjoy herself with the bodyguard hovering as if she would expire at any moment. True, she was going to die, but it wouldn’t be today. She glided beneath the surface, grateful and happy that she felt well enough to swim and could enjoy the pool.

  The first cramp grabbed her in the deepest part of the pool. She doubled over, expelling the air from her chest, and then sucked in a mouthful of water on the inhale. Agony exploded in her lungs.

  Don’t panic. Trying to ignore the pain, she shot upward. She broke the surface, coughing and gasping. “Honna!” Another excruciating spasm hit and knotted her stomach. “Honna! Help!” she cried, scissoring her arms and legs to tread water. The boulder was vacant. Where is my cousin?

  Her gaze darted over the sandy beach. There! Her cousin stood off to the side.

  “Help me, Honna!” Her cousin seemed to stare right at her but made no move to enter the water. Stabbed by white-hot darts, muscles twisted, and Reena went under. Liquid filled her mouth, her nose. Flailing arms and legs, she sank to the bottom, holding her breath while her lungs threatened to burst.

  I’m going to die.

  Let go, death tempted. No more sickness. No more bitter herbs. No more.

  No!

  Reena kicked to the surface. “Honna!” she screamed, using the last reserves of energy. She had enough time to suck in a breath before the next cramp dragged her under.

  Please, Goddess, not like this…not like this…

  * * * *

  Garat uncapped the unguent vial. He doubted he would run into her at the palace, but if he did, he was immune, and his maturation had changed his appearance so she probably wouldn’t recognize him. Just in case, he smeared the oily ester under his nose then secured the jar and tucked it into his pack.

  “That stuff doesn’t work.” Arms folded, Kor leaned against a post.

  Eyes watering, he blinked. “It works.” He’d get used to the smell—eventually.

  “Why do you continue to resist enrapture? It beats…” Kor shook a loosely formed fist.

  Garat slipped his arms into his leather chest guard and buckled it. While leather mail would not protect him from a direct hit from an electrical impulse disruptor, it would diffuse the energy from a glancing beam. “Surrender and think of Lahon?”

  “What is he fighting, Papa?” Jerak peered up at Kor from the floor where he played. “Are you going to fight monsters, Uncle Garat?”

  Kor chuckled. “The sweetest kind.” He beckoned, and Jerak scrambled to his side. Kor hoisted him into his arms. “Uncle Garat isn’t going to fight monsters. He’s going on an exploratory mission.”

  “What are you exploring for, Uncle?”

  “Water,” he replied. He slipped a dagger into a sheath strapped to his thigh.

  The little boy frowned. “We have water.”

  “We have enough…for now. But that might not always be the case,” Garat explained.

  “So what are you fighting for?”

  Garat exchanged a look with Kor. “He has a mind like an animal snare.”

  “What does that mean?” Jerak asked.

  “It means you must stop asking questions,” Kor admonished, but added, “Your uncle may encounter Sharona. You know what the Sharona are, don’t you?”

  “They’re another tribe. Women.” Expression solemn, Jerak said, “You’re dressed like you’re going to fight monsters.”

  In his nephew’s earnest features, he saw his brother’s face. Like father, like son. Garat stomped down on the buried pain threatening to resurface. “All for show.” He ruffled the boy’s hair.

  Jerak frowned, unconvinced. Kor lowered him to the ground. “Have you collected the eggs and fed the goats?”

  The boy scuffed the floor with his toe. “I was going to…”

  “Going to doesn’t count. Do your chores now.”

  Jerak glanced at his father’s face. “All right.” He dashed for the door.

  “Hey!” Garat called. “Give your favorite uncle a hug before you go.”

  Jerak giggled. “You’re my only uncle!” He rushed over and wrapped his tiny arms around Garat’s waist.

  Garat swallowed. “Be good. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  Jerak peered up at him. “Will you bring me a monster head?”

  “Sorry. No monster heads.” He gave his nephew a gentle shove. “Go now.”

  Jerak ran from the dwelling and slammed the door.

  Kor shook his head. “He’s too smart for his own good.”

  “He must take after his mother,” Garat quipped.

  Kor slugged him, but the leather mail absorbed the blow. Too bad the chest plate didn’t work as well with EIDs.

  “They’re not, you know,” his brother said.

  “Not what?”

  “The Sharona aren’t monsters. What was done to you isn’t the way it happens.”

  Garat scowled. “I know that!”

  “Jerak is right. You’re suited up as if you are expecting to do battle.”

  “The Sharona are…a distraction, not the threat. If seismic tremors diverted our underground rivers, they may have disrupted water sources for other tribes. I could encounter others who might seek to usurp what is not theirs.” He could have a fight on his hands.

  “Like we’re doing?”

  “We must survive.”

  “The Sharona won’t see it that way.”

  “I hope to convince Queen Ellynna it is in her best interests to share her bounty.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “Then we’ll be forced to drive the Sharona from their land.” Which made him uncomfortably aware the Lahon differed little from the others. We must do what it takes to survive.

  “Provided you stay focused.” Kor looked doubtful. “You’re betting a lot on that unguent.”

  “The ester is insurance. I’m confident of my willpower.” Of the fact he was dead inside, hadn’t felt a stirring since…

  Kor snorted. “Good luck. Few can resist the Sharona when they are in libidinal fever. The pheromones are too powerful.” Like many other Lahon, including Garat himself, once, Kor had succumbed to seduction. After his enrapture, Kor had stumbled back to the Lahon settlement paler, disoriented, and at least a stone lighter. Garat wondered if his brother had bothered to eat at all—or if he’d spent an entire fortnight fucking. Ten months later, a squalling babe, swaddled in a basket, had been delivered to the edge of camp. Jerak, son of Kor, the enclosed note had said.

  “For you, perhaps,” Garat replied. He could not confide in his brother, younger than he by ten years, that numbness offered his true protection. No blanket, no basket, no name had been attached to his son’s body, dumped in the woods on the darkest day of winter. There’d been a note. Son of Garat. The Sharona woman who’d birthed the infant had intended him to know what she’d done. Had desired to hurt him. He had buried his son and his tears under a resolve to never succumb again. And he hadn’t. Nor had he told anyone other than Kor of his loss, his reasons for resisting further enrapture.

  He praised the Goddess for her wisdom in keeping the Sharona separate from the Lahon. She’d recognized her people could not function if overcome by carnality. Mostly he was thankful bec
ause he feared what rage might compel him to do if he encountered one particular Sharona.

  He’d been weak once, undermined by youth and inexperience. Older and wiser now, he didn’t accept men were powerless. He had a hunch the men wanted to submit to the hedonism of the flesh, so their desires played against them. Asceticism built strength. He would prove it. Breeches on, he would march into the royal palace of the Sharona, and march out with dignity and pantaloons intact.

  “Beware that arrogance does not trip you, for it will be a hard fall.” Kor folded his arms. “And what if Shara does agree? What then?”

  “We’ll have water channeled to us, and we can continue to keep our distance.”

  “And if she says no?”

  “Then I will call up a regiment, and we will take what we need.”

  “And how will you keep the men from succumbing to their charms? Instead of an invasion, you could end up with an orgy.”

  “Some of them will fall,” Garat admitted. “However, the women who are in feverwill be too busy fucking to fight. I’ll send our most seasoned warriors and ensure our contingent outnumbers theirs.”

  “That’s your plan?”

  That and the libidinal fever antidote, which would help the Lahon resist enrapture. Garat patted his pocket. Meloni, their healer, swore it worked. His venture into the palace would prove it.

  Books by Cara Bristol

  Please help tell other readers about my books by leaving a review. To be notified of new releases, sign up for my author newsletter, http://eepurl.com/9aRJj.

  Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance series

  Stranded with the Cyborg (Book 1)

  Mated with the Cyborg (Book 2)

  Captured by the Cyborg (Book 3)

  Trapped with the Cyborg (Book 4)

  Breeder series (Sci-fi romance)

  Breeder (Book 1)

  Terran (Book 2)

  Warrior (Book 3)

  Rod and Cane Society (spanking romance/bdsm light)

  Unexpected Consequences

  False Pretenses

  Body Politics

  Disciplinary Measures

  Reasonable Doubts

  Irresistible Attractions

  Other Titles

  Goddess’s Curse (Fantasy romance)

  Educating His Bride

  Long Shot (Corbin’s Bend Spanking Romance)

  Longing (Paranormal)

  Stolen Moments (Romantic Comedy)

  Naughty Words for Nice Writers (Nonfiction/thesaurus)

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol has published more than twenty-five erotic romance titles, including contemporary and science fiction romance. No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently resides in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling. To learn more about the author, visit her website at http://www.carabristol.com, friend her on Facebook, or sign up for her author newsletter.

  Acknowledgements

  I owe a huge, huge debt of gratitude to editor Kate Richards and copy editor Nanette Sipe who went above and beyond the call of duty in fast-tracking this manuscript. Jaycee of Sweet ’N Spicy outdid herself on this cover. I’d also like to my street team, and all my readers and fans.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Goddess’s Curse

  Books by Cara Bristol

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements