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An intense pause follows, punctuated by the pulsing of blood hammering inside my ears. To my surprise, Titus does as she commands, pushing off the girl beneath him, and rises to his feet, towering over these women.

Leather vest peers up at him and shakes her head, whistling. “Aren’t you an impressive beast …” She glances back to me, giving me a once-over, and to Titus again, her eyes falling toward his shamelessly exposed groin. “Seems like an awful big key for that tiny lock.”

A burgeoning jealousy has me lurching forward, one hand balled to a fist. “We’ll leave, if that’s what you want.”

“What I want is for you to shut your pretty little mouth, and go find some clothes for you and Captain Cockmonster here.” With a jerk of her head, she signals to one of her minions standing by, who crosses the room toward me with a gun strapped across her chest.

I shoot a glance toward Titus, who stares back with an impassive expression on his face. One I can’t read. Leading the way, I make my way toward the back bedroom, watching the girl with the gun out of the corner of my eye, while I rifle through the drawers for some clothes for both Titus and me. When I return, Leather Vest has taken a more casual stance, biting her lip as she seems to study Titus’s manhood.

Clearing my throat, I toss the clothes, which obstruct her view when he catches them.

“Someone harbors a little jealousy.”

“What is it that you want with us?” I don’t quite understand Titus’s passive reaction to all of this. Yes, the guns would pose a risk, but he could take out a few of these women before they even knew what hit them. I’ve seen him attack. It’s like a bolt of lightning out of nowhere.

Once he’s dressed, the women usher the two of us toward the door, and the moment we step outside, my breath catches in my throat.

At least two-dozen more women stand waiting, all strapped with guns. Amongst them stand two men, whose arms are tied in front of them. Each has what looks like a leash of rope attached to their necks, the other end held firmly in a woman’s grasp.

A knock to my arm has me turning to see a woman loop a rope around Titus’s throat, and when I step toward her, another woman points a gun in my face.

Titus growls, and she takes a step back, not bothering to lower her weapon until Leather Vest taps the barrel of it.

“No need to threaten a sister. She is not our enemy.”

Frowning, I glance toward Titus’s bound hands and back to Leather Vest. “And who is your enemy?”

“Who is every woman’s enemy? The great almighty phallus.”

“He’s not a danger to you.”

“All men are a danger to women in this world.” One of her female soldiers hands her the rope to Titus’s neck, and she gives a hard tug that constricts the band.

“Stop that!” I reach for the rope, but she bats my hand away.

“He belongs to me now.”

“He belongs to no one.”

Looking me up and down again, she steps toward me, lips stretching with a grin. “You weren’t born out here in the Deadlands, were you?”

I don’t answer her, and instead study the placement of her hands and the guns that she’s slid back into their holsters at either side of her. How quickly could I nab one? How much of my training with Titus could be put to use? What kind of crunching sound would her nose make if I punched her right now?

“Don’t even try it, girl,” she says, as if my thoughts were written across my face. “One bullet is all it takes. For you, anyway. Maybe not so much for this guy,” she says, hiking a thumb over her shoulder. “Now, c’mon. It’s a two-hour walk, and the sun is already fucking hot.”

“Where are you taking us?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Leather vest guides Titus through the small group, taking the lead, while I follow behind like a lost puppy.

“Promise me one thing.” One of the captured men leans into the woman who holds the rope beside him, seeming to talk to her, but his smile is directed at me, as I approach. His gaze lingers far too long on my breasts. “Whatever kinky shit you have planned, I get to shack up with the blonde.” He nods toward me and licks his lips. “Been a long time since I’ve buried my face in a rack that pretty.”

Breaking his easy cadence, Titus twists toward the guy, yanking Leather Vest off balance, and hammers a fist to the man’s face that sends him flying backwards, tumbling onto his ass. Eyes wide with bewilderment, he stares up at the Alpha, rubbing his jaw.

“I don’t share,” Titus growls, before falling back in line, and the ensuing laughter of the women leaves me frowning after him.

Chapter 34

I walk alongside Titus, who allows himself to be led like a dog by rope along a well-worn path I’ve not seen during my many explorations through the woods.