The Virgin Hunt Games, Volume 2
She stood her ground as Cyodal bounded from one piece of garbage to the next. Crack. Snap. Thud. At least losing her innocence to a hunter who wasn’t her drawn mate translated to credits in her account. Maybe even as much as what keeping her virginity for as long as possible would give her.
But she’d promised her parents she’d do everything in her power to keep her innocence, and she wouldn’t go back on her word. Her parents had sacrificed so much to give her a good life, now she’d return the favor.
Cyodal landed on one end of the wire grate where she stood, his eyes glittering and his face flushed. He took a step toward her, and she automatically took a step back.
With a gasp, she lifted her foot off the bubbling remains of grub beneath her remaining boot. The acid was already eating into the leather. Shit. Ignoring the steaming goo, she pushed the toe of her boot beneath the mass, and as Cyodal took another step toward her, she kicked the squished, oozing grub straight at the hunter.
He roared and swiped the burning splatters from his cheek, jaw, and throat…just as some kind of liquid bubbled up through his skin.
She gaped. Seriously?
His species appeared to have a self-defense mechanism against the wnagla grub, probably a sweat gland that released enough perspiration to rid itself of the acid. Not fair.
Cyodal glowered at her, then his focus dropped to her half-covered breasts in the lacy black bra. His eyes glinted as he did a slow, deliberate rub of his crotch, emphasizing the bulge that didn’t appear to have deflated one bit from his pain. “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”
She bit back a whimper as acid began burning into her flesh. Hopping on one foot, she tore off her remaining boot and sock. The hunter chuckled, clearly enjoying her pain.
She dredged up all her willpower to ignore the burn and sneer back, “You’ll have to catch me first, dickwad.”
She didn’t give him time to react. She spun, and in three strides she was free of the rotting trash. She put on a burst of speed, and in five more strides she was at the base of the stairs leading to the next level.
Too bad the shirt she’d wrapped around one foot chose that moment to unravel. She tripped and fell, jarring her shoulder and her knee against the steps. Her breath hitched then jerked out of her lungs as she was grabbed from behind and hauled against a hard chest.
Cyodal’s clawlike fingernails pushed into her shoulders to twist her around. Blood pounded like a drum in her ears when he gave a feral smile and said, “Going somewhere?”
“Not with you, she’s not.”
Cyodal’s grip tightened brutally as he spun around, putting her between him and the alien hunter he faced.
“Landry Marx,” Cyodal bit out.