by Sue Lyndon
But damn the expectations of his people and damn his misguided need for revenge.
The man who’d taken Shessema away was the guilty one.
Layla had claimed to know nothing of his plans and he believed her. She’d admitted to suspecting Michael might be involved with the rebels but nothing more. Her voice had brimmed with sincerity as she’d uttered this confession while he’d stood above her with the strap, preparing to whip her. He’d condemned her then, told her she was as guilty as Michael and deserved the pain she had coming, but the words had rung hollow in his chest.
Before he realized what he was doing, he’d already departed his quarters and was halfway to the brig. When he came upon Layla, she was down on the floor, repeatedly pushing herself up by her arms. He opened the door and she gasped and fell on the floor.
“Little human.” He rushed toward her and knelt at her side. “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She peered at him with wide dark eyes. He grasped her hands and helped her to her feet. Once she was standing, he didn’t release her hands. He couldn’t. He had to keep touching her.
Surprise gave way to wariness and she regarded him with suspicion. Her gaze dropped to his waist, as if searching for any weapons, but he wasn’t wearing a weapons’ belt today. He silently thanked the ancient gods that he hadn’t put one on, lest he frighten her needlessly.
A shaky breath escaped her lips. Her dark hair gleamed underneath the overhead lights, and her cheeks were beautifully flushed from her exertions.
“Are you here to… hurt me?” she asked in a cautious tone.
“No, Layla.” He swallowed hard. Why was he here? He struggled to come up with a reason that didn’t sound preposterous. I’ve been spying on you and can’t stop thinking about you would not suffice.
“Oh. Well, that is a great relief.” She gave him a timid smile that made his heart clench. She should hate him for what he’d done to her, but her smile was gentle, even genuine.
He brought her hands higher and clasped them a bit harder, enjoying the softness of her tiny fingers. He brushed his thumbs over the even smoother undersides of her wrists, reveling in the feel of her. The worry gradually left her eyes and he longed to see her smile again. And what did her laughter sound like? Would he ever find out?
“How have you been?” The instant he spoke these words, he felt like a fool. She was his prisoner, she was stuck in this brig, yet he’d asked her how she’d been? The human expression for fuck’s sake came to mind.
A hint of amusement crossed her sweet feminine features. Another small smile graced her lips, and it was as if he heard music playing.
“I’ve been… here,” she said with a slight shrug. “I appreciate that you let me keep the blanket and the pillow. Oh, and your shirt.” She glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “It’s a bit large for me, but it’s better than walking around half-naked.”
He hadn’t known what to expect when he visited her cell, but her pleasant demeanor surprised him. Shouldn’t she be more frightened of him? Or perhaps spitting mad?
He drew in a deep breath and reached for her hair, unable to resist caressing her silken locks. Her hair was as dark as a Kall female’s, but the texture was different, the strands thinner and softer. Her wavy hair rested just below her shoulders. He wondered how it might look after a rigorous session of mating, mussed and splayed out upon the pillows, and his cock shifted in his pants.
Logically, none of this made sense. He shouldn’t want her. He should hate her just for her association with the human male Michael Dennis. But as he stared into her eyes, he couldn’t summon a smidgeon of dislike. His curiosity about her increased, as did his desire to remain in her presence and keep touching her.
He offered her a tentative smile, and the movement felt strange. Perhaps because he didn’t smile often. “I think my shirt looks better on you than it does on me,” he quipped.
She laughed and the room suddenly looked brighter. How very strange. His cock also shifted again, swelling larger, and his scrotum drew up tight. A growl of pleasure built in his throat and he struggled to contain it, not wishing to scare her.
“I should have come sooner,” he found himself saying, “and checked on you. Did you have any further pain after I ran the dermal regenerator over your back?”
Her eyes darkened and her smile faded. “Um, no, I didn’t experience any pain after you left.”
Her tongue darted out and she licked her lips in a nervous manner, and this time he couldn’t restrain his growl.
A look of immense surprise came over her, but she didn’t appear overly frightened.
“Is there anything that I might bring you to make your stay more tolerable, human?” he asked. “Is the food adequate? Would you like reading material or perhaps some games?”
“The food has been good, thank you.” She appeared to hesitate for a moment. “But, um, perhaps some reading material. I’m fluent in several Earth languages, and I can read books written in Kall as well.”
“I will download an Earth library, as well as a Kall library, onto a tablet for you,” he said, strangely excited by the prospect of bringing her a gift. Not just a gift, but one that required some effort.
Her eyes lit up. “Wow, that would be wonderful. Thank you, General.”
“What is your favorite genre? I’ve always enjoyed historical accounts of early societies on planet Kall, and Shessema usually preferred poetry,” he said wistfully, and for a change he wasn’t stricken by overbearing sadness when he spoke of her. She’d been a part of his life and he needed to talk about her sometimes. He couldn’t speak to any of his men, but Layla appeared willing to listen. Her eyes softened and she gave him a compassionate look.
“I’ve read lots of Kall poetry,” she said, “and enjoyed it very much. Particularly works by Erommti of Faia District. When it comes to books written by humans, I must confess I enjoy romance novels. Before the war, Betsy Carson and I used to constantly trade books with one another.”
“I will ensure the tablet contains plenty of Kall poetry, particularly works by Erommti, as well as human romance novels.”
“That’s very kind of you, General.”
General. She usually called him ‘General,’ though sometimes she addressed him as ‘General Zamek.’ But what he wouldn’t give to hear her simply call him ‘Zamek,’ as if they were friends, or possibly more.
“It would be the least I could do after…” His voice trailed off. After I forced you to remove your clothes and then beat you savagely. Shame filled him. He prided himself on being an honorable Kall warrior, but if he’d fulfilled the ancient Custom of Retribution, he would have forsaken his own vows as a warrior. Perhaps Ambassador Merokk was correct, and this old custom needed to be abolished.
An awkward silence filled the room. Layla’s breaths became unsteady, and he was very aware of her tiny body so close to his, as well as the floral aroma that clung to her hair. He wanted to press his face into her locks and take a long inhale.
“I will go prepare the library for you, human, and I will return soon.” Without thinking, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead. Her breath hitched. He didn’t quite kiss her though.
A shudder moved through her and an instant later, he swore he detected the scent of her arousal in the air. Stunned, he pulled back and stared down at her. Her breathing had increased, her pupils were slightly dilated, and her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink.
He was rock hard at this point, and he stepped closer, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire. Her eyes widened and she tried to step back, but he grasped her hands firmly in his, not allowing her to pull away. They stood close for a long, tense moment, both of them undoubtedly conscious of the other’s desire.
“I’ll never take the strap to you again, Layla,” he said, meaning it, as well as wanting to gain her trust. However, he wouldn’t promise never to punish her—should she defy him in the future, as her maste
r it was his duty to enforce her compliance. But a thrashing with a leather strap? He wouldn’t put her through that again.
If the time ever came when he must discipline her, he would do so gently and apply his flattened palm to her bottom. Of course, he didn’t share these thoughts with her just now, as he wished to calm her fears. Later on, once they became better acquainted, they would discuss his expectations for her while she lived under his roof.
“Do you really promise?” Tears wavered in her eyes and she blinked fast, obviously trying to keep her emotions in check.
“I promise. I’ll never use a strap or any other implement on you again.”
“But Kall Masters usually beat their slaves,” she said. “Isn’t that what I’ll become on your homeworld? Your slave? As far as I know, the only humans currently permitted on planet Kall are enslaved ones.”
Gently, he grasped her chin between his fingers, lifting her face to meet his eyes directly. “Are you planning on being a disobedient slave, human?”
Her eyes dilated further, and the scent of her arousal increased. The smallest whimper escaped her throat, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. Fluxx, his cock was swelling even larger. Heated desire coursed through him. If he didn’t leave now, he might do something to scare her.
“I’m usually very well behaved.” A spark of mischief glinted in her pretty dark eyes.
“Usually?” he asked in a mocking tone. “But not always?”
She gulped hard and once more tried to back away. This time, he released her, allowing her to put space between them.
“I’ll return soon.” He departed her cell, his cock aching painfully the entire way out of the brig.
Chapter 9
Zamek couldn’t seem to stay away from Layla. He found excuses to visit her multiple times a day. In addition to bringing her the electronic library, which she’d accepted with a sweet smile and a murmured thank you, he’d also brought her a physical book of ancient Kall war songs, and sometimes he brought her a warm cup of coffee, knowing that most humans liked coffee.
And if he arrived at the brig to find her sleeping? He would enter her cell quietly and watch her slumber, entranced by the peaceful look on her face and the endearing sound of her steady breathing and occasional small feminine snores. If he were being honest, he was starting to feel as though he were obsessed with the human.
He’d been fixated on killing her or hurting her, but now he was intent on providing her with comfort and a safe place to live. Not that the brig was her permanent home…
Today he stood near her bed, watching her sleep, even as he realized how odd his behavior was becoming. She’d never awoken to find him watching her, as he was always careful to leave before her eyes flickered open, but there was always a chance she might.
What would she think if she opened her eyes and found him staring down at her? Would she be frightened? Or would his attention flatter her? A Kall female would feel flattered yet nervous by such attention, but he knew humans were different in so many ways.
He quietly set the coffee he’d brought her on the bedside table, knowing it would remain warm in the insulated mug for the entire day. He crouched next to the bed and stared directly at her closed eyelids, wondering if she was dreaming. He’d heard humans dreamt in the same way Kall did. Usually, when he awoke, he never remembered his dreams. Did she ever remember hers?
A whimper escaped her throat and her look of peace vanished, to be replaced by one of agony. Alarm filled him as he watched her thrash slightly in her sleep. She must be dreaming, though it pained him to know she might be having a nightmare.
“Please, please don’t kill me,” she whispered. “Please. No no no.”
He reared back, guilt and worry surging through him. There was a very good chance he was the cause of her nightmare and it was no wonder. He’d threatened her life. He’d hurt her. He’d frightened her.
He reached for her shoulder and shook her slightly. “Layla? It’s time to wake up. Layla?”
Her eyes shot open, and she took one look at him and screamed.
Still crouched beside her bed, he held his hands up in a show of peace. But she still moved away from him, practically tumbling off the bed as she sought to escape his presence. She cowered in the corner, in the same place she’d tried to hide from him on the day he’d whipped her. His guilt deepened and he wished he could go back and undo that day. Not to mention the time he’d swung his sword at her neck just to threaten and scare her.
“Human,” he said, using a gentle tone. “You were dreaming. You appeared as though you were in distress, so I woke you up.”
The remnants of sleep began to fade from her eyes, as well as her initial fear. She looked about the cell, her gaze moving around the room, to the mug of coffee on her bedside table, and finally back to him. She lifted a shaking hand to tuck her hair behind her ears.
“What were you dreaming about?” He had to ask. He had to know. If only so he might determine a way to right the wrongs he’d committed against her. At the very least, he would attempt to comfort her and assure her that whatever horror she’d dreamt of would never come to pass.
“I-I was dreaming about the courtroom and the white tarp,” she said, lowering her face to stare at the bed. “Only this time, you pulled out your sword and were using it, slowly, taking me apart piece by piece.” She gave her head a sharp shake, as if trying to physically remove all traces of the nightmare from her mind. “While I was waiting for your arrival in the courtroom that day, I heard the spectators giving their opinions on what they believed would happen, and the prevailing belief was that you would hack me to pieces. I-I suppose that’s where the dream came from.”
He gestured at the bed. “Why don’t you get back under the covers and have some coffee? Perhaps a warm drink will help settle your nerves, human.”
She glanced at the mug and finally nodded. “O-okay.”
He assisted her in getting back into bed and even went so far as to arrange her pillow vertically behind her back and tuck the covers up to her waist. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and passed her the mug.
“I put Fiahasn sugar in it,” he said, remembering how much she’d liked it the last time he’d added the rare sweetener.
She popped the lid off the mug and inhaled the steam that wafted upward. “Mm. Thank you, General. I believe this will do a fine job of calming my nerves.”
They remained quiet for a while, though there was a bit of strangeness to the silence. She drank her coffee and he watched her. Occasionally she shot him an odd look, and other times she gave him a polite but anxious smile.
“You don’t blink very often,” she said. “It’s one of those differences between our races that I still haven’t gotten used to. Whenever I spend any amount of time around a Kall, I’m always struck by how infrequently your people blink.” She gave him a curious look and he found himself enjoying her interest.
He then made a great show of blinking fast several times, which made her erupt into giggles and nearly spill her coffee. Clutching her stomach in one hand as she laughed, she placed the mug on her bedside table. “You almost made me snort coffee up my nose. That was most cruel of you.” But her voice was teasing and fluxx if he didn’t adore the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers, his heart racing in his chest. She met his stare and warmth filled him.
This moment they were sharing didn’t do anything to dull his fascination with her. He wished he didn’t have duties to attend to on his warship, because he longed to stay with her for the entire day. But he would have to leave soon, and before he departed her cell, he very much wished to calm any lingering fears she might harbor.
“Layla,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “I hope you know I’ll never use one of my weapons on you. I swear it on the ancient gods.” He released a long breath. “When I think back to the times I threatened your life, I feel… unsettled.” I’m ashamed. I’m sorry. I wis
h I’d never done it. Why couldn’t he bring himself to apologize? He swallowed hard, his tongue feeling oddly thick in his mouth.
Layla gave a thoughtful nod and reached for the coffee with her free hand, then took a long sip. He gave her other hand, which he hadn’t yet released, a firm squeeze. Still holding the mug, she settled it on her thigh and peered up at him, a look of confusion stealing over her features.
“Why do you visit me so often, General?” she asked. “Not that I don’t appreciate you bringing me coffee and books and…” Her voice trailed off and fluxx how he wished to ask if she enjoyed his company, but the fear of her rejection held him back.
He released her hand and rose to his feet, making a show of checking his wrist comm, even though it hadn’t buzzed or beeped. “I have duties on the bridge to which I must attend, human, but I will visit you again soon.” He gave her a warm look. “I will keep bringing you more books and coffee.” And I will keep watching you as you sleep and imagining what it would be like to take you in my arms and press my lips to yours.
Chapter 10
Now that she had an endless supply of reading material, Layla didn’t spend quite so much time exercising in her cell. She still couldn’t believe General Zamek had provided her with a tablet containing thousands upon thousands of titles, far more than she could hope to read in a lifetime. She also couldn’t believe his promise to never strap her or use an implement on her again.
She noted that he hadn’t specifically promised not to punish her, though, and would be careful not to cross him. She couldn’t fathom any position for her in his household other than as a slave, and slaves on planet Kall were expected to obey their masters or suffer dearly for it. Once they arrived on his planet, she would have to keep her guard up and not forget that her life still rested in the general’s hands.
She flipped through the Kall poetry section on the tablet, her face heating as she thought about the way he’d held her hands, stroked her hair, touched her face and even kinda sorta kissed her forehead that one time. Well, it had felt like a kiss of sorts. He’d pressed his lips to her forehead for a lingering moment and inhaled deeply, as if he were smelling her.