by Viki Storm
“Thank you,” Vano says. “I am honored to serve you.”
“Enough of this,” Xalax says. “Go enjoy your mate. I’m going to enjoy mine.” The transmission ends before Vano can say anything else.
“You heard your king,” I say. I spread my arms and he comes to me. “You’d better not refuse him.”
Vano does not. He enjoys me. And I enjoy him.
- - -
Bantokk and Orlon are waiting for us in one of the Zalaryn ships. This is the first time I have been on board, and I am impressed by the craftsmanship. Everything is gleaming white and polished metal and bright. There are lights everywhere. There hasn’t been a piece of machinery like this on Lekyo Prime since the founders arrived.
“Captain,” Bantokk addresses Vano. He still calls him that, even though his rank has been upgraded to King. “I’m ready to leave.”
“Good,” Vano says.
“If all goes as planned,” Orlon says, “he just needs to get within two kilometers. We can beam everything into the Rulmek ship remotely. Their ship will be turned around and sent to the blackest reaches of the Void itself.”
Their plan is simple, Vano assures me, though to me it sounds like the same sort of magic that controls the comm-panels. Orlon has created some computer program that can override the Rulmek ship’s controls. He says it will lock onto their navigation system and set their course for the next quadrant. It will also lock their escape hatches and disable the escape pods. They will be unable to access their own navigation system, helpless to do anything but wait as they are forced to travel untold distances into the next quadrant. As an extra touch, Orlon says the Rulmek ship will be taken to a Kraxx settlement. The Kraxx are a vile species, and with any luck, the two vile races will kill each other.
All Bantokk has to do is get close enough to the Rulmek ship to covertly beam the computer program onto it.
It doesn’t sound very simple to me, but then again, no one on Lekyo Prime can fathom such technologies. Like I said, it all sounds like magic.
“There’s a slight problem,” Bantokk says.
“That’s what you said before,” Vano says. “You said the problem was getting a stealth ship within two kilometers undetected.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a problem,” Bantokk says, “but not a real problem.”
“And now we have a real problem?” Vano asks.
“A rebel ship,” Orlon says. “They’re in the vicinity of the Rulmek, flying toward the scaly bastards.”
“Have you established a comm-link?” Vano asks.
“We keep trying,” Orlon says, “but either the signal is too weak and isn’t getting to them…”
“Or those bastards are ignoring us,” Bantokk finishes. “And I vote for the latter. I hate these vigilantes. They’re flying under the Three-Star banner.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. I’ve never heard of a human rebel group. “Who are they rebelling against?”
“No one,” Bantokk says derisively. “They fancy themselves defenders of the galaxy, and they fly around engaging any ships that they deem to be up to no good.”
“That’s all the ships,” Vano says.
“And they engage most of them,” Orlon says. “They’re almost more of a pain in the ass than the threats they claim to neutralize.”
“Terrorists is what they are,” Bantokk says. “I hate those bastards. They just fly around killing anyone they don’t like—and they don’t like anyone. They extort supplies and fuel from smaller planets. Pretend to be some sort of security force, but they’re a bunch of damned pirates.”
“I know,” Vano says and places a hand on his friend’s shoulder. I get the idea that Bantokk has had run-ins with the Three-Star rebels before. “Keep trying to establish communications. You can persuade them to leave the area. Explain that you need to remain undetected and that a rebel ship is going to put the Rulmek on high alert and make them run all sorts of cloaking devices and surveillance drones that will make our operation impossible. Explain to them that we both want the same thing: to eliminate the Rulmek.”
“I’ll try,” Bantokk promises, “but I don’t expect anyone under the Three-Star banner to have any common sense.”
“This cannot fail,” Vano says. “We don’t have enough males for a fight. You must reroute the Rulmek ship. If the human rebels interfere…” Vano looks at me. “Do you understand, Bryn?”
“I do,” I say. He wants to tell Bantokk to take out the humans—that weighed against the success of the colony on Lekyo Prime, a few human rebels’ lives must be considered expendable.
I think of my father’s words—hot heads and soft hearts and how they ruin society. Vano’s not the hot-headed barbarian I first thought him to be.
And I am not the soft-hearted girl he thought me to be.
If I have learned anything from the Zalaryns, it is that you must prize your own survival—and the survival of those you care about—above all else. I know Vano would fight to the death to protect me. Zalaryns fight for what they love. Fight for what they own. Fight for who they are, their way of life.
You must fight for your family, your friends, your home and your neighbors and your planet. We are Lekyo Prime—humans and Zalaryns both.
But Lekyo Prime must come first.
My planet. Our planet.
It must be defended by any means necessary.
“Do what you must. You may use lethal force on the rebel ship if they threaten to compromise the mission,” I say. “Lekyo Prime comes first.”
I roll over in bed, not wanting to leave the warmth of the furs but finally summoning all my willpower to get up. Right as my bare feet are about to swing out and make contact with the cold floor, Vano grabs my waist and pulls me back down into bed.
“Not yet,” he says. “You cannot leave until you take my seed.”
“I just took your seed two hours ago,” I remind him. We woke to a leisurely meal of bread and honey (which he’s developed quite the taste for) and soft-boiled eggs for me (he refuses to even try one, claiming it is vile to ingest the genetic material of a lesser lifeform). Afterward, he flipped me over and covered my body with his, entering me slowly from behind. I rather enjoy feeling his weight on top of me, his legs between mine, holding them open, his thickly-muscled arms on either side of me, pinning me down as he pushes his entire length inside. His lips to the sensitive bowl of my ear as he says filthy things to me.
“You will take my seed as often as I require,” he says, “until your belly is swollen with my offspring.”
“Oh yeah?” I tease. “Then what?”
“Then you will take my seed twice as often as that,” he says. “When you’re heavy with child, I will not be able to keep my hands off of you.” He runs his hands along my arms, stopping at my wrists. He pulls my arms over my head and holds them firmly to the bed. He kisses my neck, stopping to give the tender skin under my jaw a little nibble. Then he works down further and finds my breasts. My nipples are bunched and wrinkled from the cold and the excitement as I wait for his excruciatingly slow mouth to finally attend to my breasts. He kisses and licks and bites and covers every inch but purposely ignores my nipples until I am twisting and arching my back, every nerve ending in my body craving his touch. He finally trails his tongue across one of my nipples, so light I can barely feel it. He is a master at this. At teasing me. At making me lose my composure.
At making me beg.
“Please,” I whine, trying to push my breasts against his face.
“Be patient,” he says and pulls back a little so he is not touching me at all. “Hold still and be good and I will reward you.”
I stiffen, trying to hold myself still, but it’s hard. My hips are involuntarily trying to gyrate, to grind against something that will provide me with relief. The sensitive little nub between my folds is crying out for his touch, screaming to be stroked with the tip of one thick finger, aching for the slow drag of his tongue.
“King Vano,” I moan. “Pleas
e lick me.”
“Oh, female,” he says. “If you ask like that, I can’t refuse.” He draws one of my nipples into his mouth and slowly laps his tongue across, taking my other nipple between his fingers and rolling it gently back and forth. I am going to die from the waiting.
He prods at my knees with his, spreading my legs apart. He makes his way down slowly, so damned slowly. He finally stops at my mound, his fingers playing with my lips, holding them open and spreading me wider while at the same time deliberately ignoring the fact that my clit is swollen and throbbing and needs his attention.
I wriggle underneath him, willing myself to hold still. If I’m too eager, he teases me even more, taking me to the edge of insanity.
Then I feel his mouth hovering over my hot skin as he breathes in my scent. “I can taste your arousal,” he says. “It’s finer than the honey we ate for breakfast.” He finally probes my flesh with his tongue and I gasp. This is what I needed. The building heat low in my belly is immediate. He’s kept me waiting for so long that I’m already at the edge of release.
As if he can sense it (and I’m sure that indeed he can) he takes his tongue away and gives my nipples a quick, sharp pinch to refocus my attention. “Not yet. Control yourself, female.”
I wriggle under him and he climbs up, positioning his erection at my entrance. He pumps himself, letting the tip rub all over my slickly wet folds. “Your little clit is so big right now,” he says. “Your lips, too. You’re so swollen. You must want it bad.” He pumps himself harder, rubbing his erection back and forth against my sensitive nub.
“Please, King Vano, please let me come,” I beg him.
“Not until I’m all the way inside you,” he says. He nudges his tip against my opening, pushing it in just a fraction. “Not yet,” he warns.
He pushes in deeper, excruciatingly slowly. I squeal and tilt my hips, allowing him easier access. Once he’s all the way inside, he lowers himself closer to me. His hard chest presses against mine. “I’m going to do it slow,” he whispers in my ear. He takes himself out, then slides back in. “You don’t get it fast until after I get to watch you come all over my cock.” He starts to tease me with long, agonizingly slow thrusts. Each time he enters, I can feel his wide shaft stretch me open a little more. His tip rubs deep inside my inner walls, seeming to magically focus on that one spot that will make my whole core start to tremble and clench with instant building. His gaze is intent, almost serious, as he locks eyes with me. As he stares at me, I feel our connection stronger than ever.
Whatever the Zalaryns say about bonding chemicals and hormones, it’s the truth. This carnal act, it’s not just the bond between Vano and me. It’s the bond that holds together the entire universe.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you take my cock,” he says. “And you’d better come because I don’t think I can hold it much longer. Rub your clit and show your King how much you appreciate his big hard cock.”
His filthy words send a surge of heat between my legs. I start to touch myself, and he groans in approval. “Just like that,” he says, “just like the first time I got you out of your clothes. I got so hard watching you. You’re so beautiful when you come.”
And I’m sent over the edge, the explosion taking over my body, wracking it with wave after wave of spasming pleasure. As promised, Vano begins giving it to me faster, his thrusting heightening my orgasm. Instead of waning, it plateaus then rises to a higher level each time he strokes me from the inside.
He tenses and releases inside me, the hot spurts filling me up. He lies down on top of me for a moment while we both pant and try to gather our wits. “That was it,” he says as he rolls off of me. I slide in next to him, putting my head in the crook of his shoulder.
“That was what?” I ask.
“Our offspring,” he says. “That was it. New life will kindle inside you now.”
“You can tell?” I say. “There’s no way you can tell.”
“I can,” he says. “You smelled…ripe. Like a dark berry on the vine, and as soon as your fingers brush it, it falls off into your hand. I’ve smelled your fertility since last night. That’s why I’ve been insatiable. It does weird things to me.”
“But there’s no way you can know that I’m going to get pregnant from that. It hasn’t been two minutes yet. That sort of thing takes a little bit of time.”
“I know,” he says, and he sounds so sure I actually start to believe him. “It was because I couldn’t hold it. There’s a saying on Zalaryx. We say that when the universe requires an offspring, it pulls out your…zerxal. Your life force. When the universe requires an offspring, it pulls your life force from your balls without asking.”
“That translation’s not very good,” I say. I think about his proclamation. A child? I was never one of those girls who played with dollies and doted on the younger children. I always assumed I’d have a child, but I was never really able to envision it. A child? I can’t stop thinking about it.
And that’s when I realize what I’m feeling: I’m excited.
“It might not be a great translation, but that’s what it was. We are supposed to be together. We are supposed to sire offspring. I was put on that ship for a reason, and it wasn’t to conquer the planet.”
“It was to conquer me,” I say.
“No, Bryn,” he says. “It was you who conquered me.”
- - -
Later, a beeping rouses us from sleep. We have been dozing all afternoon. Vano says I need to rest and gather strength, since I will be nurturing his offspring. And far be it from me to refuse an opportunity to lounge in bed with my bonded mate, warm under the furs.
He checks his comm-panel and worry crosses his brow. “Bantokk,” he says. It’s only been half a day since Bantokk left in the stealth ship.
“Fifty neus and fifty nights to you my friend,” Vano says.
“Void-lovers,” Bantokk says. “They finally responded to our comms.” I am far from an expert in Zalaryn customs and culture, but even I know that if Bantokk failed to respond in the traditional greeting, something serious must have happened. “If those human rebels think they’re going to win some sort of fight with the Rulmek, they’re wrong.”
“Start from the beginning,” Vano says. “What’s going on?”
“Those arrogant bastards,” Bantokk carries on. “There is no beginning. They sent us a message telling us to fuck ourselves. Who tells a Zalaryn warship to go fuck itself?”
Fools, that’s who, I think.
“Send me their response,” Vano says. “But this changes nothing. You have your mission.”
“I know I do,” Bantokk says. “It can’t fail—and it won’t.”
Vano’s screen goes blank, then white, and I see a picture begin to form. The image is hard to see, blurry, and with big swaths missing. It blinks a few times then goes black.
But the audio recording is intact.
“Zalaryns,” the voice says. “We have heard your request and we decline. Rulmek do not deserve to be rerouted. They deserve knives in the back and their scaly heads to rest on pikes. If you are too cowardly to do it, then we will. How dare you ask us to stand down, to stay out of your way? It is you who need to stay out of our way. We do not suffer meddling cowards. I repeat. Stay out of our way.”
Every ounce of my blood seems to go cold in an instant. My head swims, and if I wasn’t already propped up on pillows in bed, I’d fall straight to the floor.
The voice. The rebel commander’s voice.
I know it. Know it well.
It’s Lia. My sister.
My words echo in my head: Do what you must. You are authorized to use lethal force. Lekyo Prime comes first.
My sister, not dead or caged after all—and, somehow, the leader of a human rebellion against the Rulmek. Out there, fighting against oppression and cruelty while I lounge on my featherbed, exhausted from the rigors of lovemaking with my bonded mate.
With a crown for my head and a throne for my ass…
/> With a pile of warm furs and the embrace of a strong and powerful male to protect me…
With the royal treasury at my command and a retinue of servants at my disposal…
…I just signed the death warrant on my own sister.
The End
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VIKI STORM lives in a drafty house filled with action figures and board games (some of which actually belong to her children). She’s probably watching The Universe or The Twilight Zone right now instead of writing.