Taming The Wild Man - an erotic romance by Sands Toni

Author:Sands, Toni [Sands, Toni]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Xcite Books
Published: 2012-06-30T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

ZIA WAKES FROM a troubled sleep. She sits up, staring straight ahead. The threat is clear and present. Conall thrashes in the clutches of a monster the like of which Zia has seen only in electronic images and paintings in the Collective art gallery when she was a young child, learning of the perils and peculiarities of that strange, chaotic world above ground.

She summons up all her kinetic energy. She hasn’t had cause to tap it before. But she’s always been aware of this inheritance from her mother. And instinctively she draws on this maternal strength too. Zia is on the warpath. Although she remains deep in the heart of the Collective, the force of her feelings for Conall channels straight to the fishing boat, its energy revitalising the wild man.

‘Conall,’ she calls. ‘Hold on. I can help you.’

And as Zia wrestles the sea monster in a grim mind game with a flesh and blood trophy up for grabs, Conall wrenches his hand free and pulls his dagger from its pouch. He slashes the air at first as the Margon’s odious tentacles squirm this way and that. His reach is limited but he succeeds in piercing the creature’s flesh deep enough to make it withdraw its injured limb. Conall knows he’s on borrowed time. The only image he has is his own battered body being sucked dry. Then suddenly he knows he can survive this. Energy surges in him. He releases his other hand and gets a strangle hold on a second tentacle while his dagger jabs again at the first one. An inky fluid seeps into the boat. The stench is unbearable as the Margon’s awful head looms close enough for Conall to pierce one of its baleful eyes. The death gurgles, as the great beast releases its hold on the wild man, are so intense that Conall’s father, walking only minutes away, stops then begins jogging down the path leading to the beach.

In her room, Zia sees only the great beast winding down. Then nothing. She lies back, panting. Intuition tells her Conall’s out of danger. But try as she might, she can’t see what happens next. Her powers seem exhausted. All she can do is pray to those who’ve gone before her to keep Conall safe.

Because there’s no doubt in her mind as to what she must do before it’s too late. Her hands move protectively to her stomach and she whispers words of endearment to the cluster of changing cells that she calls her star baby. Or should she say her wild baby?

‘Please don’t lecture me, father. I know I was stupid. It’s been a long day.’ Conall’s wry expression doesn’t fool his father.

‘Stupid or not, you’re a lucky man. Those angels that mankind never seems to lose faith in must have been looking out for you.’

Conall and Molan are at the farmstead. They sit together, looking at a beetroot sun dipping into a creamy sea. Conall’s mother, Adila, is preparing fish while father and

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