“Do all the houses on Chronos look like this?” she asked. “So old and creepy?”
“No, and I don’t find this ‘creepy,’ as you say. This room is actually very luxurious and in perfect taste. This is a recreation of a hunting lodge found on the edge of pristine Xylantic forests, about a thousand years ago. Maybe more. It is a revered style of architecture and often copied in new builds—although usually it’s combined with modern technology.”
“At least the bathroom works,” she remarked.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I was pleasantly surprised.”
They lay together, quiet and unsleeping in the locked room of a psychopath’s compound—who was out hunting sentient beings. And for some reason he felt a strange urge to tell her the truth about his parents. A truth he never spoke of; all Xylan knew not to bring up the subject of his parents in his presence. And yet, he wanted her to know this piece of the puzzle.
“I respect your parents,” he started.
“Oh…really? That’s nice. Thank you for saying that. I know my dad appreciates your help with keeping New Earth safe.”
“I never knew my parents.”
“I remember you said that, and I was thinking about what you said, and again, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been hard, growing up without your mother and father.”
“My mother died in childbirth and my father committed suicide, unable to live without her.”
The female sucked in a sharp breath and rolled over, staring at him wide-eyed over the barrier of pillows.
“I’ve lived my whole life unable to fathom this chain of events,” he continued. “My mother died from birthing complications, which rarely happens in modern times. She died and I was pulled from her womb and saved, alive and healthy; a child shockingly without its mother. And my father—instead of doing his best to push past his grief in order to care for and bond with his newborn son—refused to leave the side of his dead Bride. He stayed with her body far too long, delaying the burial rituals. My father’s grief at his Bride’s death was so extreme, the medical staff eventually found him dead next to her, having used a double dagger to stab his own hearts. My father took his own life, wanting nothing more than to rest in the eternal fires next to his Bride—having entirely forgotten about his own offspring.”
“I’m so sorry, Zhoryan,” she whispered.
“This is why I’ll never be in the same position, why I don’t want a Bride. It’s not for the reasons you may think—that I want to think of no one but myself. I suppose there is that. And it’s true that I have no desire to be around offspring. I have been happy in my unmated state. But the real reason is that I carry the same genes as my father. I will never allow myself to become so embroiled in another being’s welfare that I’d discard all else, including life spent with my offspring, in order to remain with my mate.”
“You’re worried you’ll be like him?”
“I know I’ll be like him.”
And then he heard footsteps outside their door. They both went quiet, not wanting whoever was listening in the hallway to overhear their conversation.
He rolled over, trying to sleep, which was impossible. But as the night wore on, a strange thought entered his mind. A subversive thought: If he were to have a mate, he’d want one with the same traits as this part-human, part-Gravian female who lay at his side.
And as the rosy fingertips of dawn filtered through the windows, they both heard the distant report of a blaster shot.
9
Janet woke up to mighty Xylan arms of royal pigment wrapped around her. Her eyes widened and her gaze darted to the placement of his claws.
How had this happened? Oh no. Were their hands touching?
The black pillows were now scattered across the bed, some having fallen to the floor.
No. No there wasn’t contact of bare skin. She sighed with relief. His claw rested on her hip, which was covered with not only her pajamas, but also those weird all-black sheets of the Xylan bed. And his other claw was over her head. They were actually snuggled together. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back as he slept. His warmth, his masculine scent. She continued to stare at the parts of him that she could see and to her eternal shame she could feel herself melting in his embrace. Her clit throbbed for attention and the area between her thighs was dripping wet; her nipples two hard points begging to be pinched. She bit her lips in despair.
She might be a virgin, but this didn’t mean she wasn’t a girl who wanted a good fuck. Because she did, she so did. Just…with the right man.
She was spending all of her time with a male who was not attracted to her. A male who vowed to never marry and to remain celibate for the rest of his life and never, ever wanted children. And conversely, he was also considered to be one of the most beautiful males in the four sectors. There were whole vid channels devoted to sightings of him. She knew, because she’d subscribed to them all.
She could see why this whole celibate and no marriage thing was actually easy for him. He didn’t physically feel attraction, so he didn’t know what he was missing. At least she knew if Zhoryan didn’t want her, it wasn’t because of her, it was because he physically couldn’t feel attraction for anyone. He couldn’t, um, get it up, for any female besides his future Bride. Of course he was going to treat her as a friend or co-worker and nothing else.
But meanwhile both Gravians and humans pleasure mated prior to finding their true mates so she was left throbbing for him—a male who wanted nothing to do with her.
Pure torture.
And this was just stupid. This male didn’t want a mate. He had real reasons for this denial. She needed to respect that because she eventually wanted lots of offspring and needed to find a husband who wanted that too. So, they were not a good match. Spending time with Zhoryan confirmed that. But her body hadn’t received the memo. How could a single girl, hanging out with a male this beautiful, remain aloof? And even though he was an arrogant asshole, the longer she spent with him the more she saw beyond that and to his heart of gold.
She clenched her jaw and sat up, allowing that seductive claw resting on her hip to drop away. Yes, she’d spent the last two years swooning over pics of this male. But that was officially over.
He’d always been a fantasy she could indulge in, but now that she’d met the reality she was not going to spend her time chasing after a male who didn’t want her. A male she knew wasn’t right for her. One day she’d find a male who wanted her for her and wanted the same objectives in life. A man who would be her best friend and the love of her life. And of course, hot sex. And a great father. And… She smiled to herself—basically all the things. Why couldn’t she have that? And until then, she’d remain single, because she wasn’t settling for less. Essentially, she was choosing to live as a Xylan did—no pleasure mating and waiting for sex until she found her mate. Except with her this celibacy was self-imposed, which made this decision ten times harder to follow.
Janet silently scooted out of Zhoryan’s warm embrace, her heart breaking as she left behind his scent and his touch.
Remain strong. He’s not the one for you.
She stood at the side of the bed and looked back down at Zhoryan sprawled in sleep.
Her jaw dropped open.
A half-naked Xylan warrior at rest, taking up most of the bed, was like trying to look directly at the sun. He rolled onto his back and she had to look away, because the sex appeal was hazardous. Holy gods, all that luscious skin. Her knees weakened. She’d caught yet another gratuitous glance at his perfect chest, outlined with outrageously hard abs and a preternaturally flat stomach. The V at the end of his torso pointed down to the glory down below. And best of all, his pajama pants were thin and pressed against his crotch, giving her a perfect mapping of his cock, which even at rest was epic.
She wanted to jump him, straddle his hips and shove her tongue down his…
Oh, dear gods.
She twisted and walked straight into the bathroom, shutti
ng the door behind her.
Zhoryan’s eyes blinked open and he slowly smiled. He wasn’t sure why, because there wasn’t anything to smile about.
He hadn’t slept until the moment they heard the blaster shot. After that he’d managed to fall asleep and strangely…slept every comfortably, despite the fact that he was imprisoned on a planet owned by a psychopath who had just murdered a sentient being and would murder someone else tonight.
He sucked in a breath and his nostrils flared, feeling discomfort. He glanced around.
Where was his female?
His female? Why did he sometimes think of her this way? It was puzzling.
Some of Janet’s pleasant scent lingered, but not the amount he’d grown used to filling his lungs. His claw went out and he patted the still-warm but empty spot in the bed next to him. And then he heard the hum of the cleansing unit in the bathroom and he relaxed knowing she was near and she’d return momentarily.
Eventually, she strode out of the bathroom, looking fresh and ready for the day. She again wore sleeveless clothing which left her arms bare, but at least the pants covered her legs. “Good morning,” she said sweetly, seeming to have lost all her anger from the night before.
He returned her smile and went into the restroom. Sleeping and waking up with this female in his personal space was not as aggravating as he’d assumed it would be. In fact, he found himself enjoying her presence. It was…comforting.
After he cleaned up, Zhoryan dressed from the next set of clothes that were available in the dresser. The clothes they’d originally arrived in were long gone, as was his first-aid kit.
Then they left the room and walked down to partake of an amazing buffet set up in the main dining room. Ivan, as always, was on guard in the hallway by the set of double doors. At the buffet table his female tried to plate her own food. A growl rumbled in his chest. “I will choose your food. Sit and I will feed you.”
Her eyes widened, but she did as ordered.
After he carefully chose their food, he sat closely next to her at the dining table. He handed her a plate piled high with every type of delicacy he thought she might need to ingest to remain strong. He also poured her a glass of Alor juice, determined to watch her eat and drink everything.
She coughed and shifted in her seat, then she started to stand, grabbing her plate as if she were leaving.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
“Don’t you think we’re sitting too close?” she hissed. “We’re in this huge dining hall. The table is enormous. Ivan isn’t watching us, so we can sit wherever we want, and we don’t need to be this close. I’m worried you might touch me. Or I’ll make you feel uncomfortable and—”
“Sit down,” he growled, cutting off this nonsense. “If I wanted to sit farther away, I would have. Eat. I want to make sure you eat everything and remain healthy.”
“Healthy?” she blinked. “Okay…”
She complied with his order, and they ate side-by-side, her scent filling up his lungs, which helped his nerves.
General Pyzon finally showed up, nearly at noon, looking refreshed. Zhoryan’s eyes narrowed as he took in the general’s fastidious appearance and wide smile. Lazhul.
“You missed a good hunt last night,” Pyzon remarked as he plated his second helping of salty emul pods. “The Creekan put up a good chase, until the end. He left nothing but a straight trail, easy to follow. Boring, as you can imagine. Not even any difficulty to track. These space men aren’t the brightest. They put up no challenge since most of them have been off-planet for most of their lives and they don’t understand how to survive in natural settings.”
His female placed her fingers at her temple and kept her lips firmly shut. He was proud of her for keeping explosive remarks locked inside and not letting them fly out of her mouth. He knew it must be hard, but this was a lesson in Honor Code training all offspring from the House of Ulmath learned in their youth, and she must too.
“I want off this planet, immediately,” Zhoryan stated. “And I’m not waiting for the communication array to be in place. You must have a private shuttle. I want use of your shuttle.”
“But…” the general sputtered. “You’ve had no hunting. How can you leave without first sampling the sport?”
“I want nothing to do with your...” and he forced himself to maintain his honor and refrain from insulting his host by pointing out, yet again, the murdering that was happening on this planet. “I again decline to hunt with you,” he amended.
Pyzon stared at him intently. “Very well. I will give you my private shuttle to take you and your human back to your ship,” he responded, pouring himself a second mug of Traq. “But, as an understanding between honorable warriors, you must not tell anyone what you’ve seen here. If you will both leave you must give me your vow that neither you nor your human will ever tell another being about what is happening on this planet. If you give me this vow of silence, then I will gladly transport you off this planet.”
Zhoryan clenched his jaw. Honorable warriors? This lazhul was the least without honor. Janet made a noise. Zhoryan didn’t need to look at her for confirmation, he knew where her mind and heart were on this matter. He spoke for the both of them. “I am not giving you my vow of silence in this matter. The moment I leave this planet my duty in placing your honor before mine ends. I will immediately alert the High Command to your activities here. The military will return, and judgment will be swift.”
Pyzon sighed with disappointment. “Well, then, that changes everything.” Then he seemed to brighten. He came and sat at the table across from Zhoryan and his female. “I have another idea,” Pyzon said, spreading sauce on his chucks of meat. “Tonight we will hunt, you and I, and…you can bring along your human.”
“Hunt? I said that I wasn’t…”
“Or, you and your human can decide to go with Ivan.”
And suddenly Zhoryan understood Pyzon’s meaning, and rage flooded his body. The hunter would be the hunted.
The general stared at him eagerly. Would a warrior of the House of Ulmath maintain the renowned control of that line in the face of such an outrageous offense? Zhoryan clenched and unclenched his claws, a growl rumbled in his chest…and he managed, barely, to remain seated. This would go down in his life as the moment when his honor was tested the most.
“He doesn’t mean—” Janet cried.
“He does.”
“Holy crap, he’s going to hunt us?”
General Pyzon lifted a water glass and made a solitary toast. “Normally, I never hunt another Xylan, but in this instance I drink to an adversary finally worthy of my mettle.”
They both stared back, quietly.
The general set down his glass. “You’ll find this a game worth playing,” he continued, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “Your tracking skills against mine, your strength and stamina against mine, and your jungle skills against mine. And the stakes will be valuable because your human will be with you too. I will hunt the both of you. See, I am weighing the odds in your favor. Two against one.”
Zhoryan bared his fangs and scored his claws against the table. His two hearts thundering in his chest. “And if I win…” he rasped.
“By midnight of the third diurnal if I do not find you on the island I will gladly give you my shuttle which will take you and your human back to your ship… And I know what you’re thinking…I give you a vow upon my honor that if you win I will safely transport you and your human, as long as you vow to not tell anyone of what is happening here.”
“I already told you, that isn’t happening.”
“Ah well, we’ll worry about that later—drink a bottle of liquor over it. Let’s get this game started. Ivan will supply you with the basics, a knife, hunting clothes and food. I own this entire planet but the boundaries of the hunt are on this island. In the southeast corner of the island is an area known as Death Swamp. I suggest you avoid that location. One being tried running through the quicksand to hide and all that h
appened was the death of him, and one of my best Gorgas. You can imagine how I felt, I love my Gorgas. Well, I must leave. I always take a nap after lunch. I’ll let you get a bit of a head start and I’ll follow at dusk. Hunting is always more fun at night, don’t you think?” And with that, the general stood, pounded a fist against his chest, gave a deep Imperial bow, and left the hall.
And then Ivan stepped forward with a blaster pointed at them to escort them back to their room. This time there was simple clothing laid out on the bed for the two of them to select. One hunting knife. A sack of food. Zhoryan dressed properly for the hunt and made sure Janet dressed right too. “Put these shoes on,” he said, choosing soft hunting boots for them and making sure hers were correctly secured.
And then they were both escorted out the front door of the castle. Zhoryan creaked open the spiked gate and they stepped outside.
Game on.
10
They had a three-hour head start.
“We need to leave a difficult trail,” Zhoryan told Janet. For the last two hours he’d dragged her through the jungle, in a fight for his life and the life of his female.
He gritted his teeth. I will not lose this game. I. Will. Not.
His brain was muddled when he’d first exited the compound, worrying about nothing else than putting time and distance between them and the general. Then he stopped deep in the bush and took stock of the situation. They were on an island and he’d been walking a straight line, which would eventually lead to the ocean. They had in fact been following a preexisting path, leaving behind a messy trail that even a child could follow in the rain.
“Where are we going?” Janet asked.
He glanced back. Her dark hair was now tied back from her face and off her neck with a string of fabric she’d found. She shouldered a sack of food on her back, and she’d remained tireless, not once complaining and managing to keep pace with his much longer stride, just like when they’d originally walked from the shore to the compound. And this time there was an ever more determined look on her features.
Zhoryan's Game Page 7