He strode toward the shower.
"Zordan," she called from behind him.
"Save it," he ground out. “I don’t want your pity.”
More quickly than he thought she could move, she circled him and placed one small hand on his chest.
He paused, as paralyzed by her touch as by several Ardak warriors. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. In some ways, he was more afraid of her than he was of the Ardaks.
“Pity is not what I feel for you, Zordan. You are strength itself.” She ran her hand lightly across one of his pectoral muscles.
He took in her glowing gaze and soaked in her beauty for long moments before he glanced away, focusing on a nameless point on the ceiling. “So you want power.”
“I have power," she amended. "I want you."
His gaze flew back to her, even though he didn't want it to. “We’re going to war.” The words were low, urgent. A plea for her not to push him.
“Not tonight.”
He swore softly, but against his will, his hand came up, a thumb brushing over her cheek. There was a slight tremor in his fingers. “This is not the time for love.”
“There’s always time for love.”
He broke then with a muttered curse, leaning down and lifting her, claiming her lips with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his hunger, joining it. He trailed kisses down her throat, one hand raising her skirt. When their lips parted, he pulled the garment off over her head, leaving her bare and breathless before him.
His brows rose as he took in her form, his fingers trailing down her back to slide beneath her, their tips teasing her lower buttocks. “No underclothes?”
“Aielle sent only the dress.”
“I wish I’d known sooner.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin, but it disappeared as his eyes took in her breasts. "On second thought, I'm glad I didn't know. I never would have been able to focus on that Ardak."
His lips covered one like a man starving. He mouthed it, tonguing her nipple as his hands slid up and down her back.
Her fingers went to the hem of his shirt, pulling it upward, and he broke away with a growl to let her slide it off over his head.
“Take off my shorts,” he commanded, holding her up so she could reach between them and push them down his hips.
As he strode into the shower, she squirmed a bit, obviously expecting him to put her down. He tightened his grip, touching his forehead to hers. "Don’t ask me to let you go. Even I am not that strong.” She kept her legs around his waist, her heat brushing against him as she pressed the button for hot water, turning the dial so it wasn’t too hot.
Zordan groaned as it hit him, letting it stream over his neck and back. “Ah, that’s better,” he said, a sigh rumbling from his chest. “Almost as good as having your legs wrapped around me.”
She reached down and grabbed the soap, foaming it liberally as he watched her with hooded eyes. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. He wanted to make her laugh, to hold her when she got that lost expression that overcame her sometimes.
When she began to smooth the soap over him, he threw his head back in pleasure at the feel of her fingers. “I have died and gone to the heavens,” he said, his eyes glazing over. “Or the heavens have come down to me. But your shower is too short for me, elfling. What am I to do?”
“Duck,” she said, then squealed when he suddenly dropped to one knee, allowing her to feel weightless for a moment.
A smile flickered around the edges of his mouth as he watched her. “Fear makes the passions rouse higher.”
“I don’t think I need that.”
He kissed her nipple, and she shuddered.
"Okay, maybe I did," she acceded.
He barked a laugh and rose to his feet again. “Finish my hair, little one. Let me feel your hands on my body. Because once I get my hands on yours . . .”
Her look was knowing as she lathered the soap again. “You should set me down. I can’t reach you everywhere.”
He arched a brow. “Everywhere?”
She laughed as he set her down. “Maybe I’ll leave you one or two places. But definitely not this one.”
He growled when she wrapped her fingers around his hardness. He gave a deep, guttural groan as she caressed him from base to tip. He threaded a hand through his hair, eyes closed as she stroked him several times.
When she paused, he opened his eyes and reached for the soap, lathering it in his hands. “My turn.”
“But I’m not finished yet,” she protested with an impish grin.
“You’re about to be,” he promised, rubbing the soap in his hands until bubbles foamed liberally. He turned her around, and she squealed when, instead of rubbing her back, he tickled her sides with his fingertips. He performed long strokes over her body, molding his hands to her skin just enough to torment but not enough to satisfy. When he covered her breasts and squeezed her nipples between his fingers, she looked back at him and his mouth sought hers again.
One hand went down the front of her body, swirling a path with his fingertips over her belly. She trembled as he got closer to her center, letting out a gasp at the first touch. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and he slid a finger slowly inside her. She bucked against him as he thrust into her with his tongue and finger, and he reveled in the broken, needy sounds she made.
He pulled away, leaving them both gasping for air, and reached for the herbal shampoo.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him pour it into one hand, then slowly rub it against the other hand to create a lather. "I will remember this. Vengeance will be sweet."
As he covered her hair with his hands, he bent and whispered in her ear, "This is vengeance. You brought me to another world, showed me my people, and made me more of who I truly am."
And showed me everything I'm not.
The words went through his mind before he could push them aside, and pain lanced through his chest. Even though they were here, she was not from this place. She was from a realm he would never see, where a male like him could never go. And not because he wasn't an elf. He couldn't fool himself into thinking that he was good, or pure. He'd waged war, made tough decisions, killed in battle with no regrets.
He paused the ministrations of his fingers.
Dammit.
He'd fallen in love with her. He pulled her back against him, his fingers working gently through the wet silk of her hair, his chest aching for the future they would not have.
She glanced back at his face, then slowly turned to face him. "Kiss me."
He cupped her face in his hands, committing it to memory. The smooth, upward arc of her slim eyebrows. The golden glow of her eyes that conveyed her emotions through their brightness. Her pale skin and lips that reminded him of the peaches and cream he grew up eating in Vidora during the summers. The long, long length of her golden hair that carried just a hint of wave when it was wet.
"Kiss me," she asked again in a whisper.
He covered her lips with his, moving his hands to the slim lines of her neck and then following them to her shoulders. She kissed him back passionately, burying her fingers in his hair. Then he gripped her beneath her arms and lifted her, stepping out of the shower. She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist as he exited the personal room and carried her to the bed.
"But we're all wet," she protested as he laid her down in the center, her damp hair spreading out around her.
"Not as wet as we're going to be," he growled, settling himself between her hips and rubbing his broad head against her teasingly.
Lielle's fingers dug into his arms as she arched expectantly.
"Beautiful," he murmured, sinking into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, moving with him, urging him on. But he didn't want it over too quickly, so he slowed, pulling back slightly and smiling when her nails dug into his back.
He kept them there for long minutes, thrusting slowly, maintaining the edge between pleasure and agony. When her bod
y tensed beneath him and she squeezed her eyes shut, he gave a few quick thrusts to send her over. He gritted his teeth against the sensations of her muscles fluttering around him, trying to draw him deeper into her. Pulling back once more, he began thrusting again.
Her eyes opened, narrowing on him. "Again?"
"Again," he growled, resuming the thrusts of his hips. He waited until she was arching up to him to increase the speed, keeping the pace slightly slower than what she wanted, building the pleasure. He wouldn't be able to hold back this time. It was too good. And he was too far gone.
At the next upward hitch of her hips, he began to thrust. He'd ached to be inside her, and now that he was here, he ached to remain. Her body surrounded him, her heat welcomed him, and he wanted to stay this way forever. The fierceness of his desire built until it overcame him, crashing over him like a wave breaking against the cliffs, battering him with pleasure until all he knew was Lielle.
When it was over, he drew her close, covering their bodies with the topmost blanket.
It wasn't until the first rays of dawn hit him that he realized he'd fallen asleep. He stretched his limbs, feeling more satisfied than he had in a long time . . . much longer than he cared to admit. There was a small form curled against him, and she stirred awake, peeking up at him from under sleep-laden eyelids. Her hair was mussed, and her bemused look was adorable in the fresh light of the rising sun.
She groaned and covered her entire head with the blanket. “Is it really time to get up?”
He lifted one corner, peeking under at her. “This is not the image I had of elves.”
“What image was that?”
“You know, up at dawn, enjoying the sunrise, sipping from the dew of flowers.”
She arched a brow. “Those are forest sprites."
"Those exist?" he asked in wonder.
"Of course they do."
He shook his head and smiled. There was more to this world than he had ever known. Rising quickly, he headed for the shower. The water was icy cold, just the way he liked it. He'd grown up on dawn swims in the ocean, rinsing afterward in the river that met the bay. The water shocked and refreshed, taught them to embrace pain and overcome shock more quickly. He had trained his men to it ever since.
A hand on his back startled him.
Glowing golden eyes smiled up at him until she felt the water and flinched back with a scowl. "A masochist, I see."
"Just using it to wake. Cold water heightens the senses. I can warm it for you, though.”
She shook her head and grimaced as she stepped beneath the spray. “Don’t bother.”
His stomach rumbled and even he could hear it over the noise of the water.
“Hungry?" she joked.
He barked a laugh. “Is that a real question? Of course.”
“I can’t stop thinking about the vision I had in the higher elven realm. After we eat, I'd like to take you to all four of the locations today, to see if you can find anything else that might be a key."
"As long as we do it quickly," he said. "I need to spend the afternoon checking on the training progress at Renwyn and fortifying Garthurian."
"The invasion should still be five days away, shouldn't it?" Lielle asked as she patted herself dry.
"I don't think we can count on that," he replied. "Tordan told me that information was intercepted from one of the ships, and that they are often surprised when the Ardaks attack a few days early. I believe they disseminate false information just so their enemies are unprepared. I plan to have everything in place by tomorrow."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lielle
Tomorrow.
Lielle donned her dress and boots silently, watching Zordan dress with glances out of the corner of her eye.
When he'd finished, he turned to her. "I remember you saying that we needed to win this war. Why does the higher elven realm care what happens to Aurora?"
"If we lose, the universe will become darker. The queen of the higher elven realm said that if that happens, the souls in the higher realm will fade and no new souls will be able to enter."
He swallowed. "You're joking."
"I wish I were."
"What happens to you if we win?"
She shrugged. "I didn't have time to ask. I assume that I'll go back to the afterlife in the higher elven realm. But the queen did say something about a danger to my soul."
"There was a danger to your soul, and you didn't ask about it?" He looked at once horrified and bewildered.
"Time was of the essence. It was only minutes between when I had the vision and when I landed in your arms."
He crossed the floor and kissed her. Without warning, without preamble. He kissed her like he was laying siege to an unknown castle, and his tongue plundered her mouth, beguiling hers to join it. The kiss lasted for long minutes, and when he was finished, he raised her chin and looked directly into her eyes. "That selflessness, that purity, is why you were in the higher elven realm. It's why you shouldn't be with someone like me."
She shook her head. "You are good, Zordan. If you were evil, I wouldn't love you." He froze, and she belatedly realized what she'd said. She opened her mouth to take it back, then realized that she didn't want to. She did love him, and she didn't care if he knew it.
He was quiet for long moments, the only sound in the room that of their breathing. "Lielle," he said softly, "you can't love me. Even if you could . . . have you ever seen a non-elf in the higher elven realm?" The bleakness in his eyes told her that he already knew the answer.
She couldn't bring herself to voice it. Tears began to slip down her face, and he crushed her to his chest.
"Don't cry, beautiful," he said, brushing his lips over the top of her head. "I'm not worth it. Even if a higher realm exists for Siirtians, or cyborgs, I think we both know I wouldn't be welcome there."
The desolate frankness of the words made her cry even harder. It wasn't true. Yes, he'd been arrogant and he’d led his soldiers in war. But in the few times she'd checked in on him, she'd seen the good he'd accomplished. He'd done the best he could to protect and defend his people and bring them education, technology, and improved quality of life. He'd abolished slavery in each realm he took over, dug canals for clean water, shared the prosperity of his already thriving lands with the new additions. He'd changed so many lives for the better.
There had to be room for people like him in the afterlife. If there wasn't, then what was the point?
But even if there were, his afterlife wasn't the same as her afterlife. So she would never see him again. All at once the afterlife, with all its glitter and sparkle, its beauty and light, seemed dim.
Finally, he released her, dropping to one knee and wiping her tears away. “At first, I fought for allegiance. Then I fought for power. Most recently, I fought for the oppressed. But now, it’s different. Your purity of spirit, the love I feel for you . . . that is more of a reason than any of them. I feel no regrets for loving you, and whatever happens, I hope you don’t regret loving me.”
She fought back a fresh wave of tears and nodded fervently, grabbing one of his hands from his knee. “I would never regret it. I couldn’t.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Then let’s go make our final plans.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Zordan
Zordan left the chamber with one last, regretful glance. It didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the last time he’d be with Lielle. As a warrior, he counted on nothing more than his intuition. The hours would matter most today, when he could still make last-minute changes that could make a big difference in the war.
Breakfast was a solemn affair. The feeling of impending doom hung over them all, and smiles were few and far between.
Tordan ushered them into the laboratory when they were finished. “Tristin has given us some files from the ships, information collected by the Ardaks. He wanted you to look at them.”
“Okay.”
Tordan pulled them up on the first computer, showing Zordan how to scroll down through the documents.
After he’d scrolled through once, he went back up to the top. “I’ll need about thirty arcs to read these from start to finish. I hope this is everything they know about Aurora, because this is what the general of the Ardak army will use to make battle plans.” He switched to the frequency. “Tordan, Mordjan, Durstin, Stephan, Tristin, Roihan, Valdjan, please meet me in the Renwyn laboratory in thirty arcs. Could we also notify Aefin, Lohein, and anyone else who is playing a significant leadership role? I’ll need numbers and status.”
“I’ll notify Lohein,” Durstin replied. “What the hell is thirty arcs?”
Zordan frowned. “Thirty arcs of the sun. How do you measure time?”
“We used to use a different measure, but we use our chip for that now,” Tordan replied. “Focus on the top right side of your visual cortex.”
Zordan closed his eyes for a moment to focus. “I see it. It says 48.25.”
“Right. I think you want to meet at 48.75.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you.”
Tordan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be back for the meeting.”
“And I’ll go to the sparring place and find Aefin,” Lielle said.
Zordan nodded absently as he sat at the console. It took about a half hour for him to absorb everything the Ardaks had in their notes, and the cyborgs began arriving just as he finished.
“What do you think?” Tristin asked when Zordan sat back, thinking.
“The Ardaks obviously examined this planet in a systematic way, cataloging beings, potential enemy armies, allegiances, weapons, technology, and planetary resources. It’s a cold, calculating look at the planet—all numbers and nothing about the beings that live here. And it’s a terrible way to engage in war.”
“Yes,” Tristin agreed quietly.
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