Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Amazon & Saiyan: Consequences ❯ Two Marks ( Chapter 1 )

Hello! I finally got around to starting the next part of Amazon & Saiyan, thanks to all your wonderful reviews. I hope this lives up to your expectations; but as Shakespeare wrote, "the course of true love never did run smooth." This is now officially AU; but I'm badgering my helpers quite frequently for canon information. A huge thanks for Demon Queen, Maria Cline, and Vegges Mate for letting me pick their brains and beta reading; without them, this fic wouldn't exist.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; heck, I don't know anything! Please don't sue; no copyright infringements are intended.

Amazon & Saiyan: Consequences

Chapter 1: Two Marks

Vegeta pulled his head under the surface of the lake, trying to get his headache to recede. It had been bad before; but now every little motion and movement sent pounding reverberations through his head. His senses were still hypersensitive, but his body had ceased to produce the massive amount of adrenaline his needed to counteract the pain sensitivity brought. Hopefully the water and a day of rest would counteract the last three days of following animal instincts.

He knew now why Radditz and Nappa had looked forward to the full moons so, even after Planet Vegeta's demise. The pure emotions coursing through him had been like nothing he had ever felt before. Of course, neither of them had ever mated with a woman capable of surviving; every female they had taken during the full moon died because they were weak. Vegeta's new mate had matched his heightened state with one of her own.

The Saiyan Prince smirked as he swam beneath the water, pleased with himself.

He had finally forced her to raise her ki.

During the second night her relatively weak ki had formed into a blazing column of strength, easily matching that of both the monk & the bandit combined. It had been more than enough to ensure her survival against his strength, and a pleasant surprise to find himself holding a woman bathed in a reddish aura.

She had offered him a knowing smile, then dashed off into the woods, daring him to find her. All he had to do was find her, catch her, and then there would be nothing left to keep him from claiming his prize; she was ready.

He had claimed her indeed; she belonged to him now in body and soul. If she was happy, he would know, as he would if she were angry, sad, frightened, or hurt until death separated them. The dark red essence of her life force was so intricately bound to his that even her smell was imprinted upon him.

This bonding had intimidated him at first. Bonded Saiyans were always bowing down to the other's wishes, often removing themselves from society. The deepest bonds even heralded death, should one member of a pair die. They were said to weaken an elite Saiyan's fighting spirit, and Vegeta would never weaken himself. But this woman whom he had just made his own was anything but weak; her soul was as strong as steel and she had a temper to match.

During the entire process, she had never once cried out in pain. He knew he had hurt her; she was only a human woman, and thus her strength could never equal his. Yet she had never backed down during the past few days. She had matched him, even when he knew he had no right to ask her to continue. He'd pushed her past her limits, and still she had stayed.

He'd left her curled up at the edge of the clearing, where she had sunken into unconsciousness early that morning after the rage had finally receded. He could see her form outlined against the shadows of the forest, ribcage rising slightly with each breath, dark head cushioned on one slender arm. She would probably sleep until the next morning, unless a pressing matter woke her. Through the past three days, they had eaten and slept only enough to keep their bodies going. Once he realized she required more sleep than he did, he'd gone out to satisfy his hunger, leaving behind a pile of grizzled carcasses a few clearings away. As was proper, he'd saved some of his kill for her, but she had turned up her nose and eaten berries instead. Those short bursts of rest were nothing more than muddled memories in the back of his brain; they had not been important.

He remembered the important actions clearly.

He remembered the game they had played in the woods, of the hunter and his prey, and how, for a while, he had been the prey. Even now he could feel the way her skin felt beneath his hands, how her body pressed against him; the deft touches she had used to excite him even more. The way she had writhed beneath him while he sank his teeth into her neck; the sharp but sweet pain when she had bitten into him, and the union of their souls that had followed.

Something hadn't been quite right with that exchange. He had shown almost no restraint when giving her his soul, and she had clung to him while she adjusted to his gift. But she had adjusted with so little trouble the problem could not have originated from him. It had come from her, when she had allowed him to take her soul. There had been the slightest hesitation, which he had expected. The Princess was only human, after all, and a Saiyan bonding could be painful for Saiyans, let alone a woman of a weaker species. So he had taken it as quickly as he could to lessen the pain.

Now, when it was all over, something wasn't quite right with the way he felt. He knew well how bonded Saiyans were supposed to feel; the lower classes had lauded the sensation for centuries. And this nagging sense that he had gotten more than he expected refused to go away. Yes, she had not given him her soul as much as he had taken it, but there had been no other way; she would have gone mad with the pressures, and he needed his consort sane. She had been more than willing to give herself to him; she had made that clear on several occasions; he had not truly taken her against her will.

What had he taken from her that was impeding their bond?

There should have been no problems. He was a member of the Royal House, who while they bonded rarely of their own free will, were not incapable of doing so. He had been a glorified slave almost all of his life, and yet that had not stopped him from completing his half of the bond.

His mate was a human woman, a Princess of some small kingdom. Aside from her human blood, she had also carried her own horrors to their bond, but that had not stopped her from bonding before.

Vegeta froze, almost forgetting to tread water.

He had taken a mate who had bonded before.

Could the slight resistance he felt be her bond with Kakarot? Kakarot had not truly bonded with her, for she had been able to arouse him. She hadn't smelled of the third-class baka whom she had given a son, nor had she refused his attentions, as a proper mate would do.

But that was the only explanation.

She had bonded him while still bonded to another Saiyan, hadn't she?

Kakarot was dead, wasn't he? The bond should have dissolved with his death, or at the very latest when he had bonded with her himself.

Spurred by dread, the Prince swam to shore and left the soothing waters of the lake, ignoring his battered spandex suit in a pile in the grass. The water streamed down his skin in rivulets as he strode to his new mate, examining her ki closely for the telltale flickers that would indicate the presence of his heir within her.

He felt nothing.

He snarled in anger. She had been at the peak of her reproductive cycle when he had taken her; it was impossible that she had not conceived. But he felt no ki whatsoever from his mate; not even her own.

Could she be hiding his heir's ki, as well as her own? Even while sleeping? She had to be, and the Prince resolved to get her to teach him her methods of ki manipulation before his heir was born.

He knelt next to the sleeping woman, rolling her onto her back so he could clearly see the base of her neck. The milky skin was covered with more bruises than he could count, but her skin had only broken in one place, at the base of her neck, where the livid mark his teeth had left stood out clearly. And at the other side of her neck, parallel to his, was a second mark, left by another set of teeth long ago.

It had neither faded nor healed, which meant the keeper of his soul was still bonded to Kakarot.

The Prince of Saiyans snarled and lashed out with more anger than he had ever possessed before, more anger than had flowed through his veins when he realized that Frieze had actually destroyed his people. It filled him, touching his very core as he fumed about how weak he had allowed himself to become, giving his soul to a woman who loved another. As his anger spiraled out of control, the new connection he had so conveniently forgotten about channeled his emotions to the woman who had inspired such rage.

Son Chichi, daughter of the Ox-King and the Crown Princess of Amazonia, opened her dark eyes in time to see her new mate disappear beneath an aura of golden light as he ascended into the level of power that had only been a legend until very recently.

The Prince had finally become a Super-Saiyan.

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