Reid had sensed it before seeing Kincaid.

            The feelings were intense, bold, uncomfortable, and utterly furious. Reid felt them all. It made his stomach quiver and hands shake. 

            For a moment, he worried Kincaid would come bursting in like before, force him to do something unspeakable. It was something he had feared would become a habit after the last time. Except, after a few minutes, there was no impromptu interruption for his meal. A meal he had finally managed to swallow fearing what Kincaid would do if he did not. 

            What was it that had enraged him?

            Reid was sure if he had been the cause, he would find out soon enough. It would be best to make sure he finished his meal so as not to give the Dragon anything else to punish him for. If he kept his thoughts from what he witnessed, maybe he could get through it. 

            No. He would get through it. He had to keep his strength up and somehow get Kincaid to loosen the leash on him. As indifferent as he was, Kincaid didn’t seem like he was unreasonable. At least, Reid really hoped he was accurate in that observation. 

            Reid had just finished his meal when the door to the room opened. He flinched, thinking it would be Kincaid, but it was a group of servants in their strange white masks. Again, they roughly yanked him up and over to the bathroom where he was washed, buffed, and polished. He was really getting tired of this treatment when he was perfectly adequate at handling these tasks on his own if they would just unchain him. 

            The only thing keeping him from rebelling against it all was the curiosity. What was it now? Surely there was some sort of event he was being forced to attend, especially with the care they took in his appearance this time around. His skin glistened with a scented oil infused with Gemma Crystal dust that seemed to make him quite literally sparkle. His hair was braided along the crown, leaving his curls a perfect halo on top. Jewels were intertwined within the braids and they even painted around his eyes. It wasn’t quite makeup, but some sort of ritualistic paint. 

            When they dressed him in a spectacularly lavish white outfit out of some lewd fantasy story, suspicion curled in his gut. 

            They weren’t taking him to another one of those Layings were they? He would not be able to stomach seeing the carnage again. 

            A thick golden collar was placed around his wrist with a goddamn leash attached. 

            They pulled him around like a fucking dog.

            He quietly seethed at the obvious disregard for him as a person. Clearly the dress up was not another freedom. There was no freedom for an object owned by another. 

            When Kincaid finally did arrive in the room, the fury had been quelled, but for once, Reid saw the distress. The tenseness in the male’s broad shoulders, the pinched skin between his brows, the tightness around his eyes, and the firm set of his jaw. 

            The servant that held the end of his leash passed it to Kincaid with a bow before the group of servants quickly exited the room. 

            Knowing it was probably foolish to do so, especially when it was clear the alien was in a foul mood, Reid spoke up.

            “What’s going on?”

            Kincaid looked at Reid intensely. Reid took a cautious step back, though it wasn’t as if he could get away. Kincaid quite literally held his leash. 

            The Naerian tracked the movement before sighing. What seemed like the weight of the world lowered the male’s shoulders. The bond twinged with a hint of what felt like defeat. 

            “You will be presented to what humans call “the Court”. King Bodric will assess you.”

            Reid blanched, remembering the slimy words of Kincaid’s brother the last time he was in his presence. 

            “You will keep quiet, stay behind me at all times, and do as the King says. Is that understood, redrya?” 

            Reid nodded. 

            Kincaid sighed again, wearily, then straightened. His entire demeanor changed. Gone was the worry and distress. In it’s place was commanding confidence. He seemed…bigger…more intimidating if that was even possible. It had become so abundantly clear in that one moment that this was a male not to be challenged. Reid watched him with curiosity and fascination. 

            Just when he thought he somewhat understood the male, another layer was revealed. He was not as stonecold as Reid had initially assumed. While he may not have the empathy for humans, there was something there. Something…

            Reid could work with that. 

            Kincaid gave Reid a sharp look that without even uttering the words, conveyed the command. 

            Come.

            Reid obeyed. 

            The male led him out of the rooms, down the halls, to two grand doors. Guards were posted on either side of it, dressed in armor with blank expressions. Upon seeing Kincaid, they bowed, then opened the doors. 

            This room was different than what Reid had seen before. It was not living quarters but an honest to God throne room. Naerians, Buntyas, Yehrmas, and Nirks alike were all dressed in their best outfits, flaunting their wealth and socializing. 

            Reid saw the occasional human in the mix, clearly bound to a Naerian as he was, yet not quite allowed the luxuries of a Yehrma. He had never seen them all in one place. It was a bit overwhelming. 

            This was the life that they were never allowed to have. That had been implanted into their world, taking their resources, their space, and their freedom. 

            Reid tampered down on his anger, not wanting to cause another scene if Kincaid did that thing again. He wasn’t even sure how Kincaid had done it, if it was his aura alone or some other power. Reid had never heard of a Naerian being that powerful before. 

            The crowds parted, opening gawking at him as Kincaid led him through the throngs, though this time they could actually see his face. Every expression, every flicker of fear or disgust. He had to keep it hidden, have to keep it under wraps less he do something that would hurt him in the future. 

            Right as he made it to the throne where the King and what he assumed was the Council sat, he noticed a cloud of red hair in the crowd. 

            Reid nearly stopped walking, eyes searching the crowds, but he could not find it again. 

            Was it possible? No, she would have told us if her family had gotten that far in the Naerian society. She wouldn’t rely on Gabe and Jamila for information on the inner workings of the Naerian society if she was a part of it herself.

            Still, that hair, it looked just like Dania’s.

            Reid controlled himself, putting on an expressionless mask as Kincaid stopped before the King and the Council. 

            He scanned the seats, noticing Lord Pelryn, but as expected, Gabe was not present. He had told us that he was never allowed at these events, that his captor kept him far from the eyes of the King and Council in an attempt to “protect” him. He had never seen the rest of the Council or the King. Redrya rarely were allowed to. It was surprising to see the amount of them, though few, that were present in the room. 

            King Bodric lounged in his throne with a smirk on his unnaturally beautiful face. Those yellow eyes glinted with something that caused Reid’s stomach to curl with unease. He tried not to think of the sinister aura that radiated from him or the utter rage that always consumed him when he thought about what the male had taken from them.

Instead, he kept expression and mood as neutral as he could manage. If Kincaid figured out that he was reacting to the King, he may start drawing conclusions about why. Let him think he simply hated the alien race. Do not let him dig deeper, for if he were to find out Reid was part of the Rebellion, Reid may never see the light of day. Any hopes for freedom or access to the outside world would be ripped from him. 

And it would all be for nothing. 

“Brother, let me see your mate,” Bodric commanded drawing the attention of the room as a hushed murmured descended now that the guest of honor had arrived.

Kincaid bowed before stepping to the side. Reid glanced at him for instruction. When Kincaid gave a jerk of his chin toward the King, Reid stepped forward hesitantly. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to bow or not. He wasn’t even sure his tampered anger would allow him to, but no one seemed to comment on it so he simply stood there with his head lowered, waiting.

            He felt the King’s presence as he stood and approached, then circled around him like he was inspecting a sculpture rather than a person. As long as he didn’t touch him, Reid would be fine. Reid could keep his cool.

            Bodric stopped behind Reid, making the human tense up. The male leaned in close to Reid’s neck and inhaled. 

            “He has not been bred, Kincaid.”

            The King’s words were dark, unhappy, dangerous. There was a threat in them that had the hairs on Reid’s entire body standing on end. 

            Unease curled in Reid’s gut and he couldn’t be sure if it was his or Kincaid’s. He so desperately wanted to see Kincaid’s expression but did not dare turn. Not with the King so close. It felt like any wrong move would be the end of him. 

            “I have not had the time,” Kincaid replied smoothly, seeming completely unbothered outwardly by the clear malice in the King’s aura. “I have made a discovery that may increase chances of viable hat–”

            “This is your priority, brother. I had made that clear,” Bodric hissed.

            The entire room was dead silent. Tense. Waiting.

            Kincaid did not answer. The silence so deafening, Reid had to fight the food he had just consumed from coming back up. 

            “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I had the mating chamber prepared for you. Just. In. Case,” Bodric said cheerily, though there was nothing nice about it. “Off you go.”

            “His Rut Cycle is not for a few–” Kincaid started. 

            “Off. You. Go,” Bodric repeated, this time not bothering to hide the clear threat in his voice. “Yul, show my brother the way please.”

            Yul, a servant of some kind, though of higher ranking than the ones Reid was used to seeing, approached them with a bow. Then with careful consideration, gestured to one of the doors behind the throne. The onlookers all parted out of the way as Kincaid began to walk, pulling me along with him. 

            “Good luck, brother! May your pair be fertile!”

            Anger flooded through the bond, but Kincaid did not waver in the slightest, continuing his confident stride toward the doors as Yul hurried to open them. 

            The door led to a small dimly lit hall with a row of more doors. The only one open was at the end of the hall and clearly where they were intended to go. 

            Some part of Reid knew what was coming, however, the shock of it didn’t seem to hit him until he saw the bed and the oils and the…chains. It was so similar to the room he stayed in, but this was different. This had clear intention.

            Reid froze, leash pulling tight as he stared at the bed with wide unblinking eyes. Kincaid turned to glare at him then yanked the leash with impressive strength. Reid went flying forward, stumbling onto the mound of pillows. 

            “No. No, no, no,” he chanted, scrambling away only to get yanked off his feet again. 

            The reality had finally sunken in. He was going to be bred and there was no escape this time.

*

Kincaid watched in irritation as the redrya kicked and fought. Yul had closed the door behind them and Kincaid had picked up the subtle sound of the lock being clicked into place. He snorted, as if that measly lock would stop him. However, the message was clear and he had no escape from it.

            “Cease your squirming,” Kincaid snapped, but the human did not listen. Each time Kincaid pulled him to the bed, he scrambled away. As annoying as it was to deal with, a part of him was pleased the fight had not gone out of the redrya. He was worried he had been broken after the Laying, but there it was again. That fire. It spoke to Kincaid.

            Rage and resentment were two things Kincaid knew all too well. He could recognize it in others, but not to the extent he had seen in this one. Despite not wanting to sire a clutch, he could not help the small satisfaction in knowing they would be strong ones, of that he had no doubt this redrya would provide that.

            Giving one final yank, Kincaid pulled the redyra so hard he went flying into the male which led to Kincaid locking Reid’s thrashing wrists together with one hand. Forcing him down into the pillows, Kincaid glares down his pair.

            “I said cease your squirming.” 

            Reid did not listen, instead, he bucked his head forward, smashing it into Kincaid’s nose. Kincaid growled through the pain but did not release him. With rough hands he slammed him down, turned him over and pushed a knee onto his thrashing legs. 

            Completely pinned, Reid could do nothing but scream and threaten. The threats were cute, but Kincaid was tired and wanted this to be done with. 

            He unleashed his aura on the redrya, concentrating it on Reid so the bond would not resist it for him. Reid immediately went slack, but the screaming did not stop. Nor did the tears.

            Kincaid ignored the theatrics, leaning over to fasten the chains on the bed to the human’s wrists, replacing the leash. 

            He tore the back of the human’s clothes until he was bare, the tatters no longer an obstacle. 

            The Gemma dust beneath his skin began to sing, blossoming in wondrous colors. Kincaid admired them for a moment, watching as they consumed the russet brown of his skin. 

            He had not believed he could be attracted to a species so weak, but even he had to admit, there was something about his pair that was…breathtaking. Perhaps it was the unfortunate nature of their bond that made it so. Either way, it would help him for this moment. He could not breed him if he was not aroused. 

            Reaching down to the redrya’s hips, he yanked the male up, not wanting to admit his eagerness at seeing his sheath bloom. A sight that had escaped him during Reid’s Rut but had not failed to haunt him every night after. 

            Spreading his thighs, Kincaid’s eyes trailed over the roundness of his ass, the glittering pucker that clenched tight, the useless pouch beneath until his eyes finally rested on the seam of his sheath. 

            A sheath that did not bloom. 

            A sheath that had been crudely sewn shut. 

            A symbol of defiance Kincaid had heard too much about.

            His pair was part of the Rebellion.