Oh God.
Whom did she love and whom had she betrayed?
Both possibilities sickened her, and she realized that along with losing her memory, her innate sense of self was challenged as well.
“Wrexel...”
He stopped his walk, but did not turn around to face her, almost as if he knew her question would not be pleasant.
“Don’t, Amber.” It sounded like he was begging but she had to know.
“Am I… with you or Staede? I mean now, not in the past… who am I with now?”
Maybe she had broken up with one for the other.
Tearing brothers apart.
Shame thundered through her.
Wrexel turned.
Pain, fury, and bitterness crossed his features in rapid succession. “Just before the accident, you were with us both.”
He continued his walk.
5
Paradise End
Amber walked beside Wrexel, her heart and brain in turmoil. Now that the immediate danger was over, her mind rehashed his admission.
She couldn’t be sleeping with both brothers.
There had to be more.
Surely?
She concentrated on her new recollections of Staede and the combat training he gave her. Everything besides the actual lessons remained fragmented.
The memories held much laughter and tender moments. She recalled holding his hand often and running her fingers across a deep scar that he bore on his chest.
Her relationship with Staede was fun for the most part, but there were also memories of embraces, arguments that held no meaning, and tearful outbursts, the cause of which wasn’t clear.
Memories that made no sense, but enough memories to justify that she did indeed have some kind of connection with both brothers as he claimed. It was like viewing her life through a silent video screen. One thing remained clear, however; Staede often challenged her to use her frustrations to fight. He would goad and taunt her until she launched at him in anger. The reason for his taunts was lost to her, but not the feeling of defeat in her memories. It was so vivid and overpowering, it caused her physical pain.
Something or someone back on the planet of Throm triggered immeasurable amounts of anguish, consuming her with a frustration she could not defeat.
Amber felt weary and confused. The memory of being in the one’s arms and then the other was so real that one brother morphed into another until she became devastated in her confusion.
What she had been doing upon Throm was so unlike her sense of self that she felt sickened by her actions.
Amber was utterly ashamed.
* * *
Soon the sun began to rise and lethargy set in. Amber was running on empty and as her racing mind slowed, energy drained from her body. They drank water often enough, but they had not eaten since the day before, when Wrexel’s magic supply of unknown fruit had come to an abrupt end. She decelerated her walk until Wrexel walked a good few paces ahead. The idea of finding a spot to curl up and sleep became overpowering. Her head spun with questions and fragmented memories and her limbs were as heavy as lead. Every step in his direction was an effort until suddenly everything faded away around her as she dropped to the ground.
In her dream, she sang a strange and lilting lullaby about a Great Pink Cloud that came to announce the end of rest. She rocked back and forth in a weird circular symbol carved into the ground; words strange and mystical tumbled from her lips as she knelt. The song faded and the circle too and she found herself in a lavish hall crying with agony while a large and gentle hand stroked her head to comfort her. His eyes were faultlessly blue and infinitely kind; long strands of dark blond hair fell down beside his handsome face, which twisted in pity for her.
“I think we should hear his side,” he urged.
Her cry echoed around the room. “No, you will not discuss this with him. Swear it on your house, Shihlo, please, be the one Thromian who does not hurt me.”
She took the hand he offered. He stood tall… very tall and… he wasn’t an angel, he was as Thromian as Wrexel.
“Come, my sister, rise and fight another day.”
Brother.
The other one.
Shihlo.
* * *
Amber awoke in surroundings so different from everything she had experienced over the last few days that for a second she panicked. She was unsure whether she had awoken to find herself in an entirely different situation altogether. Wrexel sat beside her, peeling fruit.
Her body ached, and she remained tired but the sight that met her gaze calmed her frazzled nerves. A grass meadow, a small sandy shore, and a glorious lake surrounded by mountains and trees, similar to the firs on Earth. If it were not for the dull white haze of the four moons still visible above, she would have believed herself back home.
Flowers dotted a distant hill, and the weather was perfect.
She stretched languidly in the sun and then turned to Wrexel. “I’m sorry I fainted.”
He must have carried her for the remainder of their journey.
“You were exhausted,” he replied. “You need more sleep than I do.”
He put the fruit down on their blanket and they both tucked in ravenously until, hunger sated, they lay down and stared up at the sky above them.
The surroundings were so perfect and unthreatening, she felt a sense of peace and security that she hadn’t been privy to for days.
“Is there a possibility that… creatures could come later?” she asked with a silent prayer that none waited for the sun to set before slinking out of the shadows and destroying her peace.
“None that are a threat.”
His reply made her giddy with joy. “You mean you get friendly creatures on this planet?” she teased.
Wrexel rolled onto his side and smiled back at her. “Well… I’m friendly.”
You are not a creature, she wanted to reply, but then she blushed at the joke and they laughed together.
“Is it like this on Throm?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, it is in areas.”
“Wrexel, did you always know about Earth, about us, the fourth colony?”
“Yes.”
“But you never contacted us?”
“No, there was no reason to, with you under the protection of the Yimmyrd. They ensured you were left to evolve naturally until the end came.”
“The Yimmyrd?”
“Godly beings who own the eight planets we all live upon,” he explained. “They kept all alien life from Earth’s knowledge, including the 104 enemy races in the rest of the universe.”
She opened her mouth to ask more, but he said, “I really want to swim.”
* * *
Amber gazed with open admiration as he undressed. His physique was faultless, perfection marred only by the battle scars. The symbols and curling lines of his tattoos were beautiful. The bar in his right nipple glinted in the sun. She almost purred with feminine appreciation and had to shake herself to stop staring.
“I dreamt of that panther creature on your chest the other night,” she said and his hands stilled at his waist.
“What did you dream?” His voice lowered warily.
“They came alive, pouncing, asking me strange questions.” She frowned, remembering they had asked her for keys. “Are the tattoos symbolic? Are those creatures real on Throm?”
He watched her carefully. “The four wings are the four political houses on Throm, the Sanbara; this black mythical creature you call a panther represents the Monarchy and yes, they are real creatures.”
He lifted his arms and tied his hair back. Her eyes fell on the thick black band on his bicep that still writhed as if alive.
“And the black bar?”
“It represents an oath.” His jaws clenched angrily. “In my case, a forced one.”
“What was the oath?”
“Never to murder my father,” he said without batting an eyelid.
Amber watched as he glanced down
at his bicep with loathing. “He forced it upon me when I was young and then forged it with sorcery to ensure compliance.”
Amber still grappled with the idea that he had to take an oath not to murder his father.
“Sorcery?” Had she misheard?
“Yes, sorcery, it’s a real power.”
She looked at him in disbelief.
He lifted the dagger from his hip. “This sketh is a combination of sorcery and technology. It is the sorcery that links it with your mind, enabling it to surge forward at your will, reading your mind’s intent.”
“Sorcery as in magic?” She still could not believe him.
“In Diogel, the solar system where we live, there are three forms of power. Technology is one. The ability to create spaceships and intergalactic communication devices, including the one inserted in your ear that helps you understand what I am saying. I’m speaking Thromian; you’re hearing your Earth language.”
Amber touched her ear, understanding why his words sometimes didn’t line up with his mouth movement.
“The second is sorcery; it is a powerful but strictly controlled entity in the solar system where we live. Something that never graced Earth, so it is only a myth to you. Take my blood oath band.” He lifted his arm. “If I plot to kill my father, the pledge comes into force and I will die. I cannot hurt him directly or indirectly because the bond is kept in place by magic.”
She looked worried as well as confused, but he added, “When you remember him, you will wish I wasn’t wearing this band.”
His laugh held no humor.
“What is the third power?” she asked.
“Source. The Creator’s power. The Yimmyrd, those who protected Earth that I told you about, have access to this power and there is nothing stronger. That is why Earth was inaccessible until you needed our intervention.”
“Creator… like God?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes.”
“You believe in a God.”
“Of course… he exists.” He kicked off his trousers. “Just not for Throm.”
* * *
His words confused her, but the scars on his thighs caught her gaze. Long, angry, crisscrossing gashes that had to have been set there in punishment, for they were unlike the others scattered across his body. He saw her sympathetic gaze and did not seem pleased. He distracted her by tucking his fingers into his black underwear and chuckled at her distress.
“Don’t worry, Amber; I won’t swim naked… today,” he added with a laugh and walked to the water, dark trunks still neatly covering everything that had her curious and terrified to see.
She wished to join him in the lake but felt lazy, so she observed as he dove out into the cerulean lake. His strength and speed were incredible, and for a long while, he had her mesmerized as he swam up and down. She was curious about the people of Throm and longed for her memory to be more forthcoming. Wrexel disappeared underneath the water in a looping dive that reminded her of a dolphin.
Dolphin.
She smiled.
Glad to have the distraction of a less emotionally charged recollection.
Her mind floated over the animals she could remember and she found a list in abundance.
Dolphins, a fox, the eyes of a cat – like Wrexel… and Staede… her mouth turned down.
Horses, anteaters, sloths… the sloth climbing night creatures, lizards.
No memory would give her peace of mind so she got up and decided to join Wrexel in the water. Amber stripped off her clothes, leaving on her black bra and panties, and moved forward to test the lake with her toes. She peered out to find Wrexel, who had been under the water for some time.
She waded in a little deeper until the water touched her hips; this way she could duck down if he raised his head. She wasn’t comfortable parading before him in her underwear, even if they were sensible ones.
She waited patiently for him to arrive, a small smile upon her lips, imagining him bursting out of the depths to inhale the air he must now be deeply craving.
No doubt, his lungs had double the capacity of a human’s.
Still, Wrexel did not emerge.
Amber frowned when a thread of anxiety filtered into her veins.
“Wrexel,” she yelled, and it echoed across the lake, coming back to her to emphasize her solitude.
The thought of being by herself without his protection terrified her. She tore into the water, imagining him unconscious from striking his head, or tangled in waterweeds and struggling to free himself. She had no idea how she would actually accomplish helping the large alien as she struck out across the lake, but panic blinded her as she swam to the spot where she had seen him last.
“Wrexel,” she cried desperately, but the water was deep and very dark; there was no way she could see him even when she opened her eyes beneath the murky depths. She thrashed about, frantically searching until tugging swirls wrapped around her legs and pulled her down each time she tried to swim out farther to find him. She knew that if she continued, she would drown.
Amber struggled but finally made it to the shore, her chest heaving with exertion.
The currents must have dragged him under.
* * *
Her cry of desolation died on her lips when he surged out of the water directly in front of her. Without another thought, she threw her arms around his neck, spilling words of relief as she sobbed against his shoulder.
Wrexel went rigid in her embrace, but Amber was too relieved, too happy that he lived to care.
His hands settled on her hips for a few moments as she clung to him. Then, with a moan, his arms closed around her as he drew her up, off her feet, his mouth slanting over hers.
This kiss was different from the tentative embraces of before! It was pure hunger. A delicious claiming of her mouth with his own that made her toes curl. His lips were so hot and demanding, she melted against him and did not complain when kept her locked against him and strode for the shore, his mouth never leaving hers.
Amber felt the sand against her shoulders as he laid her down, never relinquishing their kiss. His strong hand clasped her hip, and she responded by arching her back. She couldn’t get close enough, wanted more of his mouth and his teasing tongue. He broke their embrace for a second and she caught a glance of the wild violet glaze in his eyes before he slid the straps from her shoulders and tugged her back against him. She groaned with him when her naked breasts plastered against him. His kiss became even more urgent when she rose up to meet his mouth, dragging her stiff nipples across his chest. Amber started to drown in the sensation of his body so close to hers; the heat from his flesh seeped into hers, making her shudder beneath him. When his hardness pressed against her, she threw her head back with a cry, moving against him in a way that shocked her as he turned his attention to the slope of her neck.
She was out of control, rabid with desire, throbbing with need, and terrified by her violent reaction. His mouth on hers was a pleasure that had her losing her senses. She wanted him desperately but at the same time, he scared her. She wanted him, but she wasn’t ready. Too much remained unanswered. She pushed her hands against his torso and started to scramble away when the friction of his body pressed so intimately against her made her teeter on the brink as he moved against her.
“Wait,” she cried out, and he lifted himself from her with a look of dismay.
Her chest heaved and the way he took in the motion of her breasts both thrilled and frightened her. It was too intense, too fast.
“I don’t remember us,” she gasped, “I need more time.”
His gaze remained heated, and she crossed her hands over her nakedness in alarm as he groaned with regret and tore his eyes from her.
“I don’t like to go back on promises,” he choked, “but if this happens again, my vow not to touch you until you remember everything will be set aside.”
* * *
The dark expression of passion denied that crossed his face rewarded her with a recollection of the femal
es of Wrexel’s race. Lean and muscular, most did not possess her voluptuous form. He had been intoxicated with her curves from the first moment he set eyes on her. Amber recalled the first time Wrexel had seen her. It was a single memory. The day they met. She remembered being transfixed by his gaze, drawn to him until nothing existed but the two of them. Something strange had passed between them that day; the world stood still, and the only thing that mattered was the feeling that held them spellbound.
Whom she was with and how she had gotten there did not come to mind. It was almost as if these details were insignificant in the cataclysmic event of their meeting.
No other person featured in her memory but the man across the room whose eyes held hers with the same look of determined possession that raged across his features now.
She did not understand the gaze then, but there was no denying it now.
Owned.
This man owned her; she had no choices, she had no free will. He owned her body, and he owned her soul. She was nothing but a helpless, willing slave of his yearnings.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he continued to stare at her earnestly.
He nodded in acceptance but did not look pleased as he watched her replace her top with remorse.
She avoided his gaze, her body still tingling from their embrace.
“You looked as if you recalled something?” His tone betrayed his nonchalant expression.
Amber hesitated. “Not really. I remembered the day we met, but just… seeing you, nothing else.”
He looked relieved.
“I think you need to remember a few other things about the Thromian anatomy.” He took her hand and laid it against his chest, moving it down until it trembled with nervous apprehension. Her distress caused him to chuckle and his eyes tinged ever so slightly with the hue of passion. His hand stopped against the scars on the lower end of his abdomen. “Do you not remember what this is?” he asked her.
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