Pitch Black Fan Fiction ❯ Destiny's Crossing ❯ Destiny's Crossing ( Chapter 1 )

Author: Tempest, Email carisa_brown @yahoo.com

Title: Destiny's Crossing

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: PB

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black, I only fantasize about Riddick in a completely unhealthy manner.

Summary: Destiny Sanchez is on her way to a backwater miner colony when she crosses paths with the deadly Richard B. Riddick.

Pairing: Riddick/OC

Archive: Sure, just let me know

Feedback: This is my first PB so I would love to hear your thoughts.

 

Destiny's Crossing.

 

Destiny Sanchez stared blankly out the dusty port hole, watching the ebb and flow of traffic below her. People dressed in rough hewn work clothes bustled back and forth, loading cargo into the various ships that were docked.

 

Her ship was supposed to have departed twenty minute ago, but they seemed to be inexplicably delayed. Her small toes, clad in sensible, low-heeled shoes, tapped an annoyed tattoo on the metal grate floor.

 

It was bad enough that she had to fly third class, but now she had to wait. Lack of patience, unfortunately, was her biggest fault. She tamped down her growing frustration, took a deep breath, and allowed serenity to overtake her. She waited twenty more minutes before her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. She turned on her heel, and stomped down the hall in search of her wayward captain.

 

She found him in the loading bay, but the string of scorching words she had planned for him died on her lips at the sight of the biggest man she had ever seen. He towered over everyone else in the room, exuding animalist vitality that completely sucked the air from her lungs. Her sparkling dark eyes roved down the planes of his body, noting that he was layered with muscle and plated in bronze. He was as wide across as two men she noted unbelievingly, her mouth dry at the thought. That much bulk should have made him clumsy, but he stood with a careless balance that screamed agility and speed.

 

At her entrance, his shaved head tilted to the side, simultaneously observing her while never removing his predatory gaze from the man who stood in front of him. With the heavy weight of his goggled eyes on her, the air was crushed from her lungs leaving her breathless and needy. She watched with fascinated awe as his nostrils flared, and she knew instinctively that he was scenting her, tasting her essence in the air and memorizing it. Her knees grew weak, knocking together, and the strangest sensation fluttered in her stomach.

 

“Ms Sanchez.” The captain's sharp tones invaded her lulled senses, and she immediately recoiled in distaste, remembering her earlier ire. She drew up her slight five foot four frame impressively, bristling under the Captain's imperialistic gaze.

 

“I demand an explanation for your tardiness, Captain.” Her even pitch was meant to chastise the room, making her more imposing than she really was. Years of herding unruly school children made her nearly unshakable in the face of almost any adversity. After all, snotty noses, bloody knees and a young boy's natural affinity for creepy crawlies were enough to harden anyone's mettle.

 

She had the desired result from the Captain, and he began to mutter an apology along with some excuse about taking on some unexpected passengers when the third man of the group chimed in.

 

“Ms Sanchez, my name is Officer Murphy.” Destiny swung her considering gaze towards a tall, athletic man who smiled suavely at her. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice that his maleness drastically failed to measure up next to the mountain of rippling muscle and sinew in front of him, but that didn't stop him from trying out his charm on her. The small lines between her eyes became more pronounced, and her irritation grew.

 

“I apologize for the delay, but I needed passage on a ship for myself and my prisoner that was landing near Sulizule, and your Captain was kind enough to provide me with a ride.” Destiny fought the urge to snort at the man--- forced into compliance was more like it. Mercs thought that they were above everyone else, and that they had the right to do as they pleased.

 

They regaled everyone within hearing distance with the dangers of their job, never once mentioning their usually underhanded tactics when dealing with other human beings that they deemed beneath them. Destiny's own brother had been unjustly accused, and when he had tried to flee the long arm of the law they had sent a merc after him. He never made it to his day in court, because the merc claimed that Daniel had been unruly.

 

What utter bullshit.

 

She had no doubt that the wanna-be debonair man in front of her was a merc, and not a sanctioned officer of the law. He held himself too arrogantly. He was in it for the money and prestige, not because he wanted to help people.

 

Her dark eyes moved away from Murphy, and returned to the man who held her complete and total attention even when she was conversing with the others. She noticed with a frown, that he was bitted and shackled. His overwhelming presence had overshadowed the fact that steel cuffs held his wide wrists behind him and a thick chain trailed down to attach to his manacled ankles. Gray metal was pressed between his full lips, wrenching his jaw painfully apart and locked between his teeth. She licked her own lips in sympathy, and his brow winged subtly in response.

 

Murphy seeing her interest in his prisoner sketched out a mocking bow. He yanked on a steel pole that he was holding, the other end attached to a thick metal collar that was around the chained man's neck.

 

“Ms Sanchez, may I present Richard B. Riddick, the most notorious murderer in three galaxies.” At his words, Destiny's eyes widened almost imperceptivity, and her hands reflexively clenched at her sides. She was still staring at Riddick, when Murphy's words washed over her, and she could see his lips twitch around his bit at her reaction. She quickly reined in her disquiet, and composed herself under the men's watchful eyes. Murphy had been expecting her to scream or faint like some sort of feminine fluff, but his wide smile faded in the face of her unruffled coolness.

 

She glared at the men in front of her, despairing at the long strand of inky black hair that defiantly escaped its binding at her nape to fall across her eyes. She swept it away distractedly, settling her unwavering gaze on the Captain.

 

Sanchez's law, never let them know that they got to you.

 

“I hope we won't be delayed much longer, Captain. I have a schedule to keep.” Her sharp clip demanded an immediate response, and the captain nodded his head in acceptance. She turned to withdrawal graciously, but not before darting one last glance at Riddick. She felt her stomach flutter again, and her pulse raced at the look of animal intensity that was directed towards her. She fled the room without looking back, thankful that she had escaped with her hide intact.

 

After she left, Murphy let out a low whistle, his eyes twinkling appreciatively. “She's some piece of work.”

 

The Captain nodded in response, his lips twisting into a grimace at the thought of that harpy on his ship for the next few weeks. “Yah, she's a school teacher on her way to Armon Prime.”

 

Murphy's brow furled at the new information, and he snorted with disgust. “Shame that. Wasting a woman like that on colony miner low lives.”

 

The captain muttered a halfhearted agreement, and both men missed the slight tensing of Riddick's frame.

 

 

 

Some days later, Destiny stood across from the Captain's first-in-command, Tina Banks. Again, she was struggling with her one flaw, monumental impatience. She watched as the woman nibbled delicately on a bar of chocolate, before wrapping it reverently in foil, and tucking it away in a hidden catch under the console. Destiny felt her gut clench with want, and saliva filled her mouth as the craving for the dark, creamy goodness slammed into her full force. Chocolate was rare enough as it was, and where she was going to it would be non-existent. With some effort she tore her longing gaze from the woman in front of her, and directed it out into the velvety darkness that was decorated by blazing stars as the ship whizzed through space. She took another deep, calming breath, struggling for control.

 

“I insist that you do something about this situation, Ms. Banks.” Destiny's icy tones slapped the other woman sharply, causing her to hunch her shoulders and narrow her eyes into glittering slits of dislike.

 

“I suggest, Miz Sanchez,” Tina spat snidely, “that you figure out how to deal with the problem yourself.”

 

Tina stood up, stretching her lanky height to tower of the much daintier woman. Destiny's lips twisted into a scorned pucker that usually sent children running to do her bidding, but it had no effect on the Norwegian Viking in front of her. Tina Banks was lean with caramel colored skin and flashing blue eyes. Her platinum blonde hair was cut to frame her finely boned face, making her look like a well petted cat. Destiny's observations continued when the other woman turned away to leave, displaying her trim body and toned muscles.

 

She was everything that Destiny was not, tall, fit and beautiful. The kind of woman that men stopped and stared at in the street. What was worse, was that she was capable. She knew how to take care of herself, and she would never be caught in the problem that Destiny currently found herself in. She was perfect. The kind of woman that Riddick would want. Destiny shook the thought away, concentrating on her pressing situation.

 

Trouble she found had a name, and that name was `The Mallory Boys.' The pair of hooligan brothers had taken to cat calling her, and stalking her though the corridors of the ship. She dreaded coming out of her locked room for fear that they would pin her in a dark corner to taunt her---or worse.

 

She followed Tina out of the cock pit, and into the hall, still desperately trying to state her case.

 

“It's the responsibility of the Captain and his crew to see to the welfare of their passengers,” she urged, abruptly stopping when Tina whirled around to face her.

 

“No. It's our job to make sure that you get to Armon Prime. What happens to you during the trip is not our concern unless it harms the ship in some way.” Destiny drew back from the hard features of the woman in front of her, shocked that she was refusing to resolve the situation.

 

“But…” she started, only to be cut off by the first mate.

 

“But nothing, Ms Sanchez. You had better get used to life out here on the rim. No one is going to help you unless they can get something out of it. You had better toughen up or you won't make it a month.” With that, Tina turned and strode away, leaving Destiny stunned and alone.

 

Slowly, she turned to move down the opposite direction, immersed in her own thoughts. She had agreed to take the teaching position at Armon Prime because she thought it would be far enough away from her memories. After Daniel had died a year ago she had continued to live in the small flat that they had shared together for years, never realizing how much it had hurt to do so.

 

Their parents had died when they were both young and they had relied on each other for survival. While Daniel had worked two jobs, she had struggled her way through college to get her teaching credential. Once that was done, their plan was to have her support him while he worked his way through a programming degree. Her baby brother had always had knack for computers, and all he needed was the certificate to get a decent job.

 

One night after work, Daniel had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a murder. He had come home in a panic, and she had instantly sought to solve the problem with her keen, no nonsense mind. It was painfully true that they were lower class and easy targets. Destiny had known that he would be blamed for the deed, so she had gathered together what little cash that she had and sent him away.

 

Unfortunately, three days later a merc caught up to him. No more than a week after that her precious baby brother, whom she had raised since he was three, was dead. Her life after his death was empty, and everywhere she looked was a constant reminder of what she had lost. When the offer on Armon Prime had come through she had snatched it up, uncaring that the position was undesirable. She had no experience living on the outer rim, where the law was created by circumstance and not politicians. She was sure that Tina's words rang true. If she wanted to survive, she needed to toughen up.

 

A jovial commotion up ahead of her alerted her to the approach of `The Mallory Boys', and she felt fear spike through her. Her gaze swept the hall, searching for a likely hiding spot. Her eyes latched onto a nearby door, and without forethought she slid it open, darting into a shadowy room.

 

She leaned against the closed door, pressing her ear to the cold metal, listening intently for any threat. She held her breath, her body rigid while the minutes ticked by. She heard the boys pass by, and their laughing voices eventually disappeared down the corridor. She straightened, exhaling shakily as her body relaxed.

 

A rustle of movement behind her caused her to jump, and she whirled around like a frightened animal. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Richard B. Riddick, strapped down to a steel chair in the center of room, immersed in shadow, only visible by the flashing of his silver eyes.

 

Her exhale rattled to a halt as all the air was sucked out of her lungs by the sight before her. Even sitting down, Riddick was an imposing sight, all muscle and lethal intent. He was still bitted, and the shackles at his wrists gleamed even in the darkness. She knew that she should be afraid, in fact she was certain that she was terrified, but she was drawn by the glow of his unusual eyes.

 

She had never been this close to a man his size, especially one that was deadly malice honed to perfection. She drew closer to him, emboldened by his restraints, and her earlier fear of `The Mallory Boys' disappeared. They seemed so much smaller now that she was in his presence. She almost laughed at her foolishness of being afraid of such scrawny weaklings when there was a much more dangerous predator on board.

 

She stopped a few feet from him, her mouth dry, and her heart thudding. He watched her watching him, and the searing heat of his silent gaze bore holes straight through her chest. She felt like a ninny, and she forced herself to look away to recoup her composure.

 

Riddick had watched with amusement as she had darted into the room, and listened at the door. It was obvious that she was hiding from someone, and the irony that she was doing so while he sat behind her was not lost on him. When she had straightened, he had moved deliberately to catch her attention, unwilling to let her leave just yet. He was counting on the flash of fire that he had seen in her eyes earlier to give her the strength to approach him. He wasn't disappointed, as her natural temerity drove her forward.

 

He inhaled deeply, taking in her intoxicating scent of patchouli. She smelled sweet and musky at the some time, with a hint of sadness. He wondered what had caused the small lines of sorrow around her dark eyes. He had seen so much pain in his life, but it seemed wrong to him that such a small, delicate creature had to suffer with it as well.

 

Destiny's eyes fell on a file that was sitting open on a polished steel table and curiosity warred with integrity. She darted a glance at the door, gauging the likelihood of someone walking in on her. She was not unaware of the irony. In order to escape her pursuers, she had entered into the den of a much deadlier predator, and yet she felt perfectly safe. Well maybe not that safe, but at least she knew Riddick wasn't going to pounce on her. She swept her eyes over his manacles again, just to be sure.

 

She stepped up to the table, drawing the file towards her. Phrases leapt up at her, and she muttered them out loud. Things like, `shined' and `dark vision', caught her attention. She glanced up at his eyes, cocking her head in silent question. Although his lips were stretched unnaturally apart, she could see the hint of mocking in his silver eyes, laughing at the schoolmarm who was breaking the rules, and reading his personal file.

 

She continued to read, seeing words like `massacre' and `bloodthirsty'. She picked up the file, bringing it closer to her face, the small lines between her eyes becoming visible as she perused the engrossing material. She read a particular brutal section, and she had to fight back the gasp of horror. Her startled gaze darted up to meet his, and she saw shuttered blankness staring back out at her from his deep eyes.

 

Sanchez's law, when something is irrational, then make it rational.

 

She pursed her lips, and slid the file away from her with a flick of her wrist, barely giving it the notice that it had been so deserving of earlier.

 

“Well, I just don't think that's possible.” She raised her chin a notch, banishing the notion that any human could do something as animalistic as detailed in file. It was obvious that the powers that be weren't satisfied with his real sins, and instead endowed him with supernatural ones.

 

For the barest of an instant she saw shock reach his cold eyes before he tamped it down to hide behind his growing amusement. She saw his lips twitch slightly, and she couldn't stop her own from answering.

 

“So are you as bad as they say?” she questioned, directly addressing the killer in front of her for the first time.

 

He held her eyes steadily for endless moments before his head dipped in an almost unperceivable nod. She mulled over his affirmative reply for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. After a moment, she shrugged it away, finally deciding that you can't change what is and what was.

 

“Well I guess it's a good thing you are all trussed up,” she stated flippantly, and flashed him a small smile. If his lips were free, he would have grinned in response, a great big predatory grin of agreement, she could see it in his eyes that weren't so cold anymore.

Their unnatural moment of awkward understanding was interrupted by the intrusive hiss of the door. Destiny jumped again, spinning around to face the door this time. Murphy strode into the room, abruptly halting when he caught sight of her standing near his prisoner.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanding sharply, while striding passed her to double check the chains around Riddick.

 

“Nothing of import,” she replied while moving towards the now vacant portal.

 

She was brought up hard by a rough hand on her forearm, and she was jerked around so Murphy could thrust his angry countenance into hers.

 

“You had better watch yourself, Ms. Sanchez. He ain't no toy to be playing with. He's a dangerous criminal. You shouldn't be in here. If he gets free, you'll get dead real quick,” Murphy spat, his normally handsome features twisted into a scowl.

 

Destiny reared back, yanking her arm out of his iron grip, and raising her chin a notch. “Mr. Murphy…” she started, but was interrupted.

 

“Officer Murphy,” he growled in annoyance, but she ignored him and breezed on. There was no way she was going to grace him with his stolen title.

 

“If Mr. Riddick was to get free, it wouldn't matter where I was. If you haven't noticed we are on a ship, and there is nowhere to run. Personally, I would rather be one of the first killed than squatting in my own excrement in a dark corner waiting for Death to come hulking down the corridor.” She delivered her tirade in a snide snip that was very effective for putting people in their place. Murphy blinked at her, and she could see Riddick's obvious hilarity brewing in his eyes.

 

“You have an interesting way with words, Miss,” he replied in shock.

 

“Open a book and expand your mind.” She waved her hand nonchalantly in the air as she turned on her heel, this time successfully escaping out of the door, and down the hall to her room.

 

 

 

The next day she was sitting alone in the galley, quietly fixing herself a ham sandwich when she felt more than heard a disturbance. She looked up, expecting to see one of `The Mallory Boys' leering at her, but instead she was treated to a full sized and completely unfettered Richard B. Riddick standing in the doorway, his goggled eyes pinning her to the spot.

 

She felt her fingers go lax around the butter knife she held, and it slipped from her hand, clattering onto the counter. The loud noise jolted her awake, but Riddick didn't move from his guarded position. He merely continued to stare at her, his handsome face completely emotionless. Unable to draw her eyes away, she roved down his frame, taking in the astronomical amount of strength that rippled under his toffee skin. Her eyes fell on the shiv that he held lightly in his hand, watching with stupefied wonder as bright crimson blood dripped from the tip and onto the cold metal floor.

 

Her eyes darted up to his face again, and the hand that held her buttered bread trembled despairingly. She licked her suddenly dry lips, her mind racing a thousand miles an hour, but only circling one thought. She was going to die. Her hand quivered again, and she struggled for rationality in her panicked mind.

 

Sanchez's law, make the uncomfortable, comfortable.

 

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She swallowed hard and tried again, pushing past the squeak that emanated at first and formed actual syllables.

 

“Would you like some lunch?” The words came out louder than she expected them too, startling her with their volume. Still he didn't move, and the minutes ticked by. Destiny felt her bladder threaten to give way, when his shaved head twitched to the side, seemingly listening to something she couldn't hear. Not that she could hear much over the roaring of her blood in her ears, and the thumping of her heart.

 

Silently and as gracefully as a cat he crossed the room to exit out the opposite door, leaving so quickly that she almost couldn't believe that he had been there. She glanced back at the pool of blood that he left behind, and she shivered in terror.

 

She dropped the slice of bread that she had been holding, and darted around the edge of the counter only to stop in the center of the room, uncertain of what to do. Where would she go? Her prophetic words from the night before rang in her head, and she gulped. They were in the middle of space, there was nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide. All she would do is prolong the inevitable, and more than likely she would end up huddled in a pool of her own piss and vomit as Riddick stood over her for the killing blow.

 

Destiny straightened her spine, and a resolute light gleamed in the dark depths of her eyes. Slowly, she moved back around to the counter, and took out more bread. Riddick would undoubtedly be hungry when he finished.

 

She fixed him two ham sandwiches, as well as one for herself, cutting it in half out of habit for her small mouth. She found some frozen french fries in the cooler, and she heated them in the oven, the entire time moving in a surreal cloud of denial.

 

She sat staring blankly at her own plate her sandwich untouched, while she waited for Death to come stalking back through her cozy, domestic domain. The timer on the stove dinged, and she automatically hopped up to pull out the sheet of fries, pouring them carefully onto a plate. She set it next to his sandwiches, along with some ketchup and water for him to drink.

 

She sat back down at the counter, grabbing up her own water and guzzling it thirstily, but her throat stayed parched no matter how much she drank. Eventually, she heard feminine screams echoing down the hall, and she tensed with dread. Riddick entered the room, dragging Tina behind him by her silky blonde hair. He was looking no worse for wear, except for the blood that was coating his hands and upper arms now. Destiny knew instinctively that none of it was his, and she had to bite down the bile that rose in her throat.

 

Riddick paused in the middle of the room, his shaded gaze drifting over to her in silent consideration. She felt weighted down by his overwhelming presence in the room, his size only made larger by the struggling woman that knelt by his feet. Tina's tear filled eyes met hers, and the woman wailed in fright.

 

“Help me!” she screamed, and Destiny felt shock course though her. She couldn't stop the dismayed words that fell from her lips.

 

“Help you?” she asked in astonishment. Help her with what? Did the woman think she was going to bull rush Riddick, and they would subdue him together? Not in this misbegotten life time. Bitterly, Destiny remembered the other woman's words from last night. She had better help herself, because there was nothing that Destiny could do for her. She couldn't even save herself.

 

Before she could say more, Riddick yanked on Tina's hair, pulling her towards the exit. Destiny's thoughts on how beautiful Tina was, and how she was just Riddick's type rose up in her mind. Anger and fear mixed together, and she scrambled for a deterrent for what she was certain the young woman's fate was going to be. No woman deserved to be raped, no matter how cold and callous they were to their fellow women in their time of need.

 

“Your fries are getting cold.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them, and she almost fainted dead away at her impertinence.

 

Riddick paused at the portal, tilting his head to look at her from the corner of his eye before continuing on down the corridor. Destiny wilted onto her stool, cupping her face in her hands while she braced her elbows on the counter. She couldn't believe her gull. It was bad enough that she was going to die, but now she had to go and provoke her killer. She didn't want to die painfully, and it seemed best to stay on his friendly side. At the very least he would snap her neck instead of gutting her---she hoped.

 

She felt a whisper of movement in front of her, and she lifted her head only to have her gaze collide with the murderer in question. She nearly fell off her stool she jerked up so fast, but he just ignored her as he took a seat, and picked up a sandwich in a bloody hand.

 

That's not sanitary, she thought distastefully as he ate, uncaring that the blood stained the bread. She watched with awe as nearly the entire sandwich disappeared in his hand, dwarfed by the sheer size of his palm. His sudden presence could only mean one thing, well two actually. Tina was dead, and he hadn't raped her.

 

She realized belatedly that he must have dimmed the lights before he had come in, so he could watch her without his goggles on. Even in the low light she was still able to see clearly, and she was momentarily dismayed by that. A small part of her would rather not witness the violence that was soon to come, but another part of her whispered that she would be far more afraid to be alone in the dark with this predator.

 

She picked up her own sandwich in both hands, huddling on her chair, vigorously trying to remind herself that this was her last meal, and she should enjoy it. She took a bite, but it felt like ash in her mouth, and she could barely chew. Riddick ate with zeal, finishing the sandwiches in record time, and inhaling the fries. By the time she had eaten three bites he had finished his food, and was now looking up at her expectantly.

 

She silently put her sandwich back down on the plate, folding her hands demurely in her lap, unwilling to meet his hard gaze. He shifted, and her eyes immediately darted up, watching to see if he was going to leap across the counter at her, but he just continued to stare at her like she was an enigma. She supposed that she was. She hadn't yelled or screamed. She hadn't kicked or scratched. She had politely made him lunch, and she now calmly waited for him to kill her.

 

Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she leapt up off her chair. He stood with her, his body tense and coiled.

 

“I'll be right back,” she promised, and he winged a brow at her. She shrugged, and held out her hands in supplication.

 

“What? Like I'm going to go anywhere.”

 

He growled in warning, and she felt her entire body go watery. It was the first sound she had ever heard him make, and it rolled over her like the crashing of ocean waves. The hairs at her nape stood on end, and she wavered on her feet, struck with the irrational urge to lean towards him.

 

Instead, she backed up a step, and when he made no move to follow her, she turned on her heel, speeding from the room. She returned in record time, not wanting to give him any reason to come after her, and seated herself back on the stool. He had picked up an apple while she was gone, and it was nearly chewed down to the core.

 

She produced her treasure, breaking it in half and handing some to him. She figured one way to stay in his good graces was to bribe him. He looked down at the chocolate square that she had given him, seemingly confused.

 

She broke off a piece from her own half, and popped it into her mouth, closing her eyes as it melted on her tongue. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, enraptured by the blissful smile that spread on her lips.

 

“I figure that if I am going to die. Then I want to have a piece of chocolate in my mouth when I go, to wash away the bitter taste of dying. It can't get better than that,” she whispered to him softly, watching warily as he stood up to circle around the counter to her.

 

Her heart rate sped up, and she started to pant. No matter how much she tried to keep herself calm she couldn't control the riot of fear that sparked inside of her. As he stepped behind her, she placed another bite of chocolate in her mouth, trying desperately to concentrate on the sweet taste instead of her executioner that loomed over her. She closed her eyes, and she valiantly didn't flinch when he placed one hand at her jaw, while the other worked the pins of her dark hair loose.

 

Her inky hair fell down free around her, nearly reaching her small waist. He threaded her strands through his large fist, tightening his grip until her head was tilted back. Self pitying tears streamed from the corner of her eyes, and her rosy lips trembled.

 

She felt his hand flex over her jaw, and she tensed, expecting the tell tale snap of her fragile neck bones to ring out at any second. Instead, she felt a gentle, but insistent pressure on her lips as Riddick's mouth moved over hers, his clever tongue demanding entrance to her chocolate flavored depths.

 

Destiny's eyes shot open in astonishment. Her dark eyes met his silver gaze, and her heart almost leapt from her chest. His tongue swept victoriously into her mouth that had dropped open in shock. He tasted every corner of her, licking the inside of her lips and sliding against her tongue, but he never stopped staring into her eyes. Eventually, he pulled back, his fingers still tangled in her hair and his palm on her jaw. She tried to kick start her brain, but it was jumbled and confused.

 

Sanchez's law, ask questions first, panic second.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Her wide eyes watched him warily, and her voice was barely a whisper of breath over her kiss swollen lips. His eyes broke away from hers, watching her pink lips as they moved. He could see a smear of blood on her ivory jaw from his fingers, and he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes darted up to hers, and she watched with fascination as a slow smile curled on his full lips.

 

“Tasting the chocolate.”

 

His rough voice flowed over her, sending traitorous fits of pleasure to every nerve ending. This was the first time she had heard him speak, and she was not disappointed. His rasping tone was perfectly matched to the hard man who stood over her. It was the voice of a wild animal that had by some gift of the gods, mastered human speech.

 

She blinked incredulously before responding. “Why didn't you just eat yours?”

 

He chuckled lightly, a growling snarl that was softened by his amusement. “It wouldn't have been as sweet.”

 

The small lines between her eyes formed again, and he was instantly drawn to them. He could tell that his answer annoyed her, and it was interesting to watch her response. She screwed up her rosebud mouth, anger flashing in her eyes.

 

“Are you playing with me?” Destiny had come to terms that she was going to die. She was the last survivor on a ship with Riddick, mad dog killer extraordinaire. Logic dictated that she was a gonner. However, that didn't mean he had to humiliate her.

 

He lifted a hand, smoothing the fine lines on her brow with his thumb. His lips parted in a genuine grin, and his ivory teeth flashing under the pale light.

 

“I certainly plan too.” His velvety voice was husky with seductive promises, and Destiny couldn't contain the small shiver that rippled her flesh.

 

“I…” she started, before closing her mouth. She opened it again, but no words formed. She felt like a fish out of water, and she was certain that she looked like one too.

 

“Aren't you going to kill me?” she finally snapped, unable to contain her annoyance that was being heightened by her panic.

 

He spun her around in her seat, inserting his leg between her thighs. He leaned over her, causing her to shrink back as far as she could without falling.

 

“Do you want me too?” he asked nonchalantly, and Destiny responded automatically.

 

“No,” she quipped quickly, before her mind could catch up to her.

 

“Wait. Is that a trick question?” She glared up at him, uncertain of what he was up too. She had heard that there were worse things than death sometimes. His file seemed to indicate that he knew every single one of them. She didn't want to live only to end up some invalid vegetable in a hospital room somewhere. Flashes of horrific tortures rose up in her mind, and she almost fainted before she remembered to breathe.

 

He watched silently as a myriad of expressions crossed over her elfin features. He found her to be the most entertaining female that he had come across in a long time. Offering him lunch was the piece de resistance. How intriguing.

 

“I don't want to be tortured,” she breathed in a sudden panic, and he almost laughed out loud. Somehow she had managed to terrify herself without any help from him. It was almost too easy.

 

“Fine, I won't torture you,” he said almost sorrowfully. She looked instantly relieved, and he was amazed at her willingness to accept his word. As though it never occurred to her that he might lie.

 

“But…” he started, and he watched in fascination as her face grew pinched and strained.

 

“Since I have given you something you have to do the like.” Her raven brows drew together in instant mistrust. He could almost read the certainty in her eyes that she wasn't going to like what he had to say next.

 

“What?” her voice quivered, and he almost felt sorry for her, something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

 

“Well, I've been in the slam for a long time. I was only out for a few days before getting picked up by that devil totting a tin badge,” he growled with malice, and he could smell the waft of fear from her flesh.

 

Destiny blinked at him for a moment before the implication of his words impacted her. She almost laughed hysterically at the irony. She had been so concerned that he would rape Tina, while never giving a single thought to her own chastity. Instead of laughing she tried to slap him.

 

He caught her wrist in a solid grip, his fingers banding tightly around her fragile bones. Her horrified gaze darted to her hand then back up to his eyes once again. She swallowed loudly, looking extremely apologetic. As if things weren't already going badly, she was trying to accost her would-be murderer.

 

She cleared her throat. “Er, what I meant to say was, I would rather not be raped. Thank you very much. You should have thought about your needs before killing Tina. She was much more your type anyways,” she muttered the last part while dropping her eyes to her lap.

 

He released her hand, his molten eyes glaring at the crown of her head, momentarily confused. He had to admit, he had never had a woman politely refuse to be raped by him. Not that he had ever raped anyone, but still. It was a new experience. Who was she talking about. Type?

 

“Are you talking about that blonde bitch?” he questioned arrogantly, winging a black brow when she nodded wordlessly, still refusing to meet his eyes. He leaned to the side, trying to see her profile, but it was concealed by the fall of her long, inky hair.

 

“I don't think so,” he uttered in disgust, and her head shot up in surprise. Finally, he was able to look at her face again, though her eyes were impossibly huge with shock now. He stared into them, noting that their black color was decorated by dark flecks of blue.

 

“If I wanted a woman who was going to try and shank me every time my back was turned I would have picked one up in the slam,” he stated completely deadpan, and she blinked up at him as if he had suddenly grown puppy dog ears.

 

“Oh,' was her monosyllable reply. She was unable to form a suitable response to his unexpected comment. She barely got that out passed her constricted throat.

 

“As for rape,” he started, but stopped when he saw the shuttered expression that formed on her features. He could smell her fear again, and it was starting to agitate him. Normally, fear was an aphrodisiac for him, but he found himself yearning for something much sweeter.

 

“I insist that you kill me right now!” she snarled, and it was his turn to blink in surprise. She slid off the stool, backing several steps away from him. He allowed her retreat, only because her outburst was so unexpected. She had been completely docile up to this point, accepting her death with almost Zen-like serenity.

 

“I'm not going to kill you,” he admitted gruffly, and almost kicked himself for letting that slip. He frowned threateningly to make up for his confession, and her already wide eyes became even bigger.

 

Her soft mouth hardened into a thin line of resolve, and she sprung forward, grabbing up her discarded butter knife. She lunged at him, attacking him with her laughable weapon. He caught her wrist easily, twisting her arm painfully until the knife clattered to the ground. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her back against his broad chest.

 

She erupted into a hurricane of suppressed fury, kicking and spiting violently. He readjusted his arms around her to get a better grip, completely caught off guard by her sudden attack. She wrapped her tiny hands around his forearm and latched her teeth on the vulnerable muscle. He hissed in pain, and grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking viciously on the mass. Tears prickled her eyes, and she let go before he pulled her entire scalp off.

 

He wrenched her around, holding her arms length for his body. He glared angrily down at her, a snarl gracing his cruel lips.

 

“What are you doing, you hellcat?” His voice boomed throughout the room, startling her into submission for a moment before she resumed her struggles in full force.

 

“Kill me! Kill me!” she screamed, and to silence her, Riddick shook her vigorously. Finally, she settled herself long enough for him to speak.

 

“Fine, you bitch. I will kill you,” he promised, and almost instantly she relaxed in his arms, once again trusting him not to lie.

 

She dangled off the floor, held easily by his mammoth strength. She flashed him a happy smile, and he momentarily thought that she might be a little bit off her rocker. She must have seen his concern in his expression because her small smile dimmed.

 

“I'm not crazy. I just figure that I'm going to die anyways. I would rather it be quick and painless rather than lingering for hours on end while you toy with me.”

 

He dropped her on the ground with a snort of disgust, completely aggravated with the small woman in front of him.

 

“I told you I wasn't going to torture you,” he hissed down at her. She circled slowly to the other side of the counter, taking his vacant seat. They sat down simultaneously, each not wanting to take their eyes off the other.

 

“Well, what do you call rape, if not torture?” she questioned softly while pulling her discarded piece of chocolate towards her. Riddick's lay untouched, and she eyed it hungrily, wondering if she would be able to eat it if he wasn't.

 

He leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes narrowing. “I wouldn't call what I had in mind rape.”

 

She lowered her eyes to her chocolate, breaking off another small piece. “Oh, what did you have in mind, Mr. Riddick?” she asked with disinterest, certain that he was toying with her again.

 

“Pleasuring you until you dropped with exhaustion,” his whispered voice drifted across the short span that separated them, heating her flesh with wicked intentions and salacious promises.

 

Her fingers stilled on the foil, and very slowly she raised her eyes to meet his liquid silver ones. All at once her breaths came in short excited pants, and her heart raced until she thought it would leap out of her chest. Heightened awareness electrified her senses, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

 

“I thought you were going to kill me,” she breathed, completely enthralled with his exotic gaze.

 

He shrugged, his massive muscles rolling beneath his shirt, like a jungle cat stretching on a tree limb. “I can do that later. We have time.”

 

Destiny blinked at the lounging predator that was across from her. Her already overtaxed mind tried to fathom what he was saying to her. It had always been her experience that in confusing situations you should always check for understanding.

 

“Let me get this straight, just so we are both on the same page. Are you suggesting that we leisurely make love after which you will kill me?” Destiny's fingers quivered on the foil wrapper as she waited for his reply.

 

Riddick full lips curved up into a salaciously wicked grin, instantly heating her blood. “That's exactly what I'm suggesting. I'll do you anyway you want, both in and out of bed.”

 

She started to tell him to go to hell when her animal brain overrode her logical one. Either way she was going to die. Riddick had already murdered everyone one else on the ship, and she was the last one left. No one would know if she let herself indulge in a little temptation with the devil across from her. Surely, God would forgive her for seeking a small bit of pleasure before greeting Saint Peter. After all, it was just like chocolate, only a little more decadent.

 

Riddick watched the struggle that took place in the delicate woman across from him. She still didn't know that she had blood smeared on her face, and every second he stared at it the harder he became. He knew that she was weighing his words, fighting to overcome her fear of him and give into her desire. He knew that she wanted him from the first instant she had laid eyes on him. The problem was that she hadn't realized it yet.

 

She had the look of a proper miss stamped all over her. When he had seen her in the loading bay he was struck by the uncontrollable urge to snatch the pins from her hair, and allow it to fall to her hips in abandon. The lank of hair that had escaped its bindings, seemingly agreed with his thoughts as it reveled in its freedom.

 

She opened her mouth, and he was certain that she was going to tell him to fuck off, but he couldn't be more surprised at her response.

 

“Okay, but you're not allowed to hurt me, and I want to be fully dressed when you kill me.” The way Destiny figured it, she didn't want to be sprawled out naked in bed when the authorities finally did find her. The thought of people seeing her bare body spread out after sex mortified her to the extreme.

 

Riddick had to bite down his laughter at her ass backwards comment. She demanded that he not hurt her, but also insisted that she was dressed when he killed her. Such a funny little female. Most women would be pleading for them not to kill him, some of the more slutty ones offering up their bodies freely to stay alive, but this one was dead set on dying it seemed.

 

He rose from his stool without comment, his muscles rippling hypnotically underneath his shirt. She watched him cross to her, and she had to freeze her own muscles to prevent herself from running. He held out a bloody hand to her and she stared at it pensively for a moment before accepting it. She couldn't help but feel like she was taking the hand of Lucifer as he led her down a shadowy path to hell paved in lust and lechery.

 

He led her down the hall, and she couldn't stop her eyes from darting around the shadowy corners looking for bodies. She found no evidence of his misdeeds and she silently wondered what he had done with everyone.

 

They entered a large room and Destiny guessed that it was the Captain's quarters. It was cleaner than she would have expected and bolted into the wall was a full sized bed that was neatly made with crisp white sheets. Riddick nudged her further into the room while he braced his shoulder against the door jam, waiting for her to make the next move.

 

She clenched her hands in her skirt nervously, afraid to look back at him. Slowly, she moved towards the bed, fear and exhilaration rising inside of her. She glared hard at the bed, as if she could incinerate it with a look. It was a symbol of her weakness. The physical proof of the sin she was about to commit. She wondered briefly if he would allow her to pray before he did her in.

 

She stiffened her spine, and calmed her breathing. Resolutely her shaking hands found the clasp on her skirt. With a whoosh, the soft material puddled around her feet, leaving her long legs bared. She kept her back to Riddick as she quickly undid her shirt to follow, leaving her clad only in her sensible white bra and panties. She paused, fidgeting in place, unable to force herself to shed the rest.

 

Riddick's already half aroused erection became painfully hard as his eyes followed the curve of her spine and down to the two dimples just above her cheeks. He longed to press his lips to each one, and he vowed to do so before their time was done.

 

“Take it all off and face me.”

 

His guttural voice slide down her spine and curled in her stomach. She quivered with a mixture of fear and longing. She was desperately afraid of this man, but she longed for him to touch her. She wanted to feel the slide of his hands on her naked flesh.

 

With shaking hands she undid her bra, gasping as the cool air puckered her nipples. She hooked her thumbs in her panties, slowly sliding them down her trim hips and long legs. She heard a faint growl behind her as she bent over and her tremor of fear turned to uncertain desire.

 

Her musky female scent hit him like a shockwave. It had been so long since he had seen a woman, felt a woman, fucked a woman. He straightened as his body went into full alert like a lion stalking a hapless antelope on the Serengeti.

 

Once she was completely naked, she turned to face him, paralyzing fear keeping her hands at her sides instead of covering her vulnerable areas like she wanted too. He was still standing in the doorway, but he was no longer leaning leisurely against the portal. His legs were braced apart, and his silver eyes slide over her hungrily, eating her alive where she stood.

 

Riddick felt the blood rush from his head to fill his aching flesh. She was so small and perfect that it made his teeth ache. Her ivory skin glowed with vibrancy and her pert breasts begged him to take them into his mouth. Her slim hips were curved just enough to make him want to grip them in his palms to pull her closer, and her thick thatch of black hair teased him by hiding her treasures from his gaze.

 

The animal inside of him rose to the surface and he was hard pressed to contain it beneath his flesh. He wanted to stride across the room and devour her. She trembled beneath his intense gaze, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging beast while reveling in her scent that drifted to him.

 

Slowly he paced across the room to her side. She held her ground, but he could smell her fear. He lifted his hand, cupping her breast gently in his palm. He felt her nipple contract and harden at his touch, and he felt more than heard her small exhale of breath.

 

Her small hand wrapped around his thick wrist, and he allowed her to push him away. He looked into her eyes inquiringly, wondering at the pinched look to her mouth.

 

“The blood,” she whispered despairingly.

 

He looked back down and he could see a perfect crimson print of his palm caressing her ivory breast. He felt lust spike through him so forcefully that he almost fell to his knees. He couldn't draw his eyes away and he bent down so he could latch his lips around the bloody nipple. The metallic tang mixed with her sweet taste, and the beast inside of him roared approvingly.

 

He felt her small hands grip his bare skull as she tried to pry him away from her. He growled in warning, and wrapped his arms around her, cupping her perfect bottom in his palms. He straightened, lifting her up off the ground so she was forced to twine her legs with his. He continued to feast on her breast, until her head dropped back in submission, and her long hair brushed his bare arms. Instead of pushing him away she held him closer, moaning wantonly.

 

He laid her back on the white sheets, kneeling between her spread legs. She looked up at him wide-eyed, but he ignored her appealing look, and instead brought his hands forward to cup her breasts again. She arched her body, nuzzling against his touch. He smoothed his palms over her ribs and down her stomach, enthralled with the scarlet trail of blood that followed.

 

She squirmed beneath him, her pale hands fluttering to her stomach to try and wipe the blood away. He caught her at the wrists, pinning them by her head. He leaned over her, dominating her world by his sheer size. Her breath quickened and her breasts heaved. Her nipples brushed against the course fabric of his shirt, and she instantly regretted the fact that he hadn't undressed yet.

 

“Leave it,” he demanded.

 

“But…” Destiny was appalled that she had the blood of some innocent crew member coated on her body. She held his liquid gaze, fascinated by the amount of animalistic lust that she saw there.

 

Some perverse side of her welcomed the act of him painting the blood on her. It was a vivid and jolting reminder of life and death. She still breathed while the evidence of death was slicked her skin. They were about to engage in the ultimate celebration of life, while mocking the act of death that he would perform in the future.

 

He cupped the side of her face with a bloody palm, tracing his thumb over her lush lower lip. Her tongue darted out, and she tasted the tang of blood on her lips. She wondered briefly whose it was, but the thought fled when he bent down to capture her lips with his. His tongue slid over her lip, licking all traces of death away, before slipping inside her waiting mouth. His tongue caressed hers, thrusting and dancing until her head spun.

 

He tasted pungent and spicy, completely masculine and ultimately deadly. His hand slipped down over her hip and down her leg, leaving four claw like streaks of red on her delicate skin. He marked her like a demon would a vestal virgin, claiming her in a haze of simmering kisses and hot blood. Her body arched towards his and with a large palm behind her knee he urged her leg up to encircle his waist. He was massive, but his weight was comforting and primal. Instead of suffocating she felt safe and protected, as though he was a shield between her and the world.

 

He reared back, leaving her breathless from his searing kiss. He knelt between her spread legs so he could whip his shirt over his head. As the material inched over his abdomen her hands reached for his solid flesh, and slipped up the length of his torso, exploring each ridge and indentation, learning his body through touch. She had never seen muscles as rugged as his. In an age were physical activity was shunned and flawless physiques were crafted in gyms or created in doctor's offices, his was honed by the agonizing trial of his life.

 

Her fingers brushed gently over a raised scar that sliced above his ribs, and he shivered in response. His body was a topographical map to the hells one could create for their fellow humans---a testament to the amount of pain a single man could endure and survive.

 

She raised her dark eyes to his slivery ones and she stilled under his penetrating gaze. His full lips were pressed into a thin line, his face unreadable as he waited for her assessment. For a brief moment she thought she glimpsed uncertainty under his harsh mask. In the passing of a heartbeat she realized that he was waiting for her to push him away, to reject him as all of society had done since he was a babe. He was used to rejection, he accepted it as his due, but the stoic set to his face told her that it would not stop him from succeeding. It never had and never would.

 

She pressed her palm tight against his hard body, reveling in the feel of his taut muscles as she glided her hand up his chest to the rounded curve of his shoulder. She tugged at him with minimal pressure, and his eyes flared in surprise that quickly faded to desire. He crouched over her, his lean back curving away from her as he feasted on her neck and down her collar bone to her breasts. She tipped her head back, baring her throat to the beast in submission.

 

His large hand slipped beneath her to the small of her back, and he lifted her from the bed so he could devour the sensitive flesh of her breasts in his hot mouth. Her inner thighs fell over his as he kneeled on the bed. Her long black hair flowed back from her temples and pooled on the white sheets beneath her. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to swirl into an abyss of sensation where she drowned in his overwhelming scent and surrendered to his burning touch.

 

Riddick laved her nipples until they were tight and swollen. He relished her small body that was lush and delectable. He lifted her effortlessly, her weight no more that a feather to him. She tasted like peaches with the cinnamon spice of blood mixed in. He traced his lips under the curve of her breast, lapping at the trails of blood that he found. His arousal thrust demandingly at the front of his pants and he was certain that if he didn't undo them soon that he would rip straight through the fabric. He could feel her wet heat pressed tightly against him, dampening the front of his pants with her rampant need.

 

He curled one heavily muscled arm around to keep her in place as he reached for his fly with his other hand. He popped the button, but as he lowered his zipper his knuckles brushed her sensitive flesh. She bucked hard, pinning his hand between them as she moaned with longing. His hungry lips returned to her nipple and he drew it between his teeth biting down as he tried to suppress the instant need that clawed inside of him.

 

He turned his hand between the press of their bodies so he could plunge his fingers in her hot depths. She closed around him like a drowning man, sucking him deeper, rocking against him hungrily. He rotated his thumb over her swollen flesh, and she bucked off the bed wildly, calling to him with small wordless cries of need. Unable to resist, he slid down her body to the center of the delicious smell that was tantalizing and seducing him, ecstatic that he could finally taste her.

 

His thick tongue glided out of his mouth and traced the outer contours of her lips, teasing her clit with his immediate presence. She reached down to cup the back of his skull, and her tiny nails dug into his skin, urging him closer. He swept his tongue along the length of her slit, and her flavor flooded his mouth, hardening him unlike any aphrodisiac he had ever consumed. If he was to die he wanted to go with her taste in his mouth, a perfect bite of heaven melting on his tongue. He could feel the tell tale tightening of her body and he knew that she was ready to come. Hot sweat streaked his skin as he fought the animal that wanted to be inside of her when she came, to feel the contraction of her muscles around his hard cock, to taste her blood as it raced in her veins.

 

He growled when the beast inside of him refused to be subdued, and he shifted her none to gently so he could draw his thick cock from his pants to glide against the wet cleft of her body. He was too impatient to pull his pants down his legs, and they rode low on his hips, baring his bronze skin and crisp dark hair at his pelvis. Abruptly he pulled her up to him, and the breath whooshed from her body as her chest collided with his solid torso. He cupped her bottom, his thick fingers spreading her body to receive him as he lifted her up to impale her.

 

His thick head pushed through the hot layers of her swollen flesh, with abject slowness, torturing them both. Riddick hissed as her heat scalded him, and the tightness of her body squeezed the air from his lungs. Destiny's head fell back on her shoulders, and her silken hair brushed the backs of his scarred hands. She spread her legs wider, but as he reared up while simultaneously pulling her down she whimpered in discontent.

 

Riddick stilled, barely caging the raging beast inside of him long enough to regain his senses. She was so small compared to him. Her body groaned and stretched, but she needed help. He cradled her against him, sliding his hand between their tightly twined bodies to find her clit. He teased the swollen flesh, ringing cries of bliss from her sweet lips. Normally, he would have forced himself inside, uncaring of the woman's initial pain, knowing that it would pass, but he found that he much preferred her cries of pleasure.

 

Slowly she slid down his staff, and he had to grit his teeth at the pure, agonizing torture it caused him. Once she had settled fully to the hilt he could no longer contain himself. He thrust his hips forward, using his grip on her bottom to propel her along his brutal pace. She clutched his shoulders, her sharp nails digging half moon wounds in his toffee skin as her sensitive breasts brushed against his chest. Destiny rode the maelstrom of his desire, sucking up every drop pleasure that every thrust of his body produced.

 

Unable to stop herself, ragged screams welled up in her throat, and echoed through the empty halls of the dead ship. Animalistic growls of pleasure mingled with them, and Riddick dropped his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. Her scent, combined with the tangy spice of blood drove him to the edge, and with a final thrust he plummeted over the rocky cliff. He bared his teeth, biting down on her pulsing vein that leapt at her throat. Scalding blood spurted into his mouth and he swallowed hungrily, drinking her life and her pleasure at the same time.

 

Her screams of pleasure turned to those of a wounded animal, but she was to far gone to stop the crashing waves of bliss that fell down around her. Her body clenched from both pain and ecstasy, shaking her apart at the very seams until her world expanded in an explosion of fire and colored lights.

 

Riddick wrapped himself around the small woman as he pumped the last of his seed into her, loathing to let her go just yet. Her small cries echoed in his ears, and reluctantly he pulled his teeth from her fragile throat, lapping delicately at the wound he had inflected on her, while savoring her taste. The beast purred approvingly inside his chest, and he lifted his head to stare down into her dark eyes.

 

She looked up at him, her eyes dazed and her cheeks flushed. He saw her pleasure fade with every shiver of her body, until the awe began to turn into latent fear. His arms flexed unconsciously, pulling her closer, until it seemed that they were pored over each other's pores.

 

“No. Don't look at me that way. We still have so much time left, and I plan on fucking you all night long.”

 

Riddick's voice rumbled around her, soothing and caressing her. Destiny felt the terror of her upcoming death drain away until only blissful expectation remained. He laid her back on the bed, exposing her body to his feral gaze. He leaned over her, and began to worship her again and again with his mouth, slowly expanded their time together until it seemed that it stopped completely, leaving them alone in their own dark universe of forbidden pleasure.

 

*~*

 

Destiny woke up groggily to the sound of distant voices and painful lights.

 

“Don't move, Miss. There's an awful lot of blood.”

 

She opened her eyes at met the concerned gaze of a young medic. Over his shoulder she could see others crowding in the doorway, looking her way curiously. Memories of the darkly sensual hours that she had spent with the escaped convict Riddick danced through her head, and belatedly she realized that she wasn't dead. She had fallen into an exhausted sleep and it seemed that Riddick had left her, unconscious and unharmed as he made his escape.

 

“It would seem that you are the sole survivor of this massacre. Would you care to explain that, Miss?”

 

As she had sat silently assessing her position a hard looking man had come up behind the medic, and now was glaring accusingly down at her. She felt her soul hardened as she looked up at him, and the rebellious streak that had gotten her in so much trouble as a child surfaced.

 

“I don't remember.”

 

Sanchez's law, protect your own at all costs.

 

The gruff man frowned, and the medic jumped in to deflect the rest of his interrogation.

 

“It is obvious that she has been brutalized. I suggest that you leave off your question until a later date.” His pale hand swept over the sheets as if they explained everything.

 

Destiny looked down and was barely able to contain her gasp. Her body was dried with old blood and was littered with bite wounds where Riddick had tasted her. The once white sheets that she lay tangled in were stained crimson with blood, none of which was hers, but it was frightful just the same.

 

The last thing Riddick had done was brutalize her, but as she looked up at the worried gaze of the medic and the suspicious commander she knew that even if she was to confess that, they would never believe her. Richard B. Riddick was the most dangerous criminal in three galaxies. No one would believe that he had pleasured her willing body for hours and then left her unharmed. They saw him as a beast and not as the man that she knew him to be. She would hold her sinful memories of her hours spent with Riddick deep in her heart, and she would pray everyday that he found the peace that he was searching for.