by Presley Hall
“Has it ever been wrong?” She looks up at me, those wide, beautiful blue eyes searching my face. “I mean… has there ever been a couple who were unhappy? Who split up?”
I blink at her, surprised. But then I remember what Tordax told me last night about Terran mating, and how it doesn’t always last. How their vows are not always unbreakable, as ours are.
I shake my head. “Never,” I tell her firmly. “There has never been a couple for whom the bond has chosen wrongly. But,” I add, even as my mind and body scream at me for doing so, “that doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice. Until the bond is consummated, or even after, either person can refuse it. You won’t be forced into anything.”
She flushes when I say the word consummated, and it’s enough to make my body prickle with desire all over again. She’s so innocent, so shy. It makes me wonder if a man has ever touched her, ever claimed her. The thought that I could be the first is intoxicating, but I can’t imagine how that could be true. I’m aware that Terrans frequently share beds with each other outside of any kind of bond, and to be fair, I have as well.
I’m far from inexperienced, and I don’t expect that from my mate. Still the thought of teaching her everything there is to know about physical pleasure, the idea of seeing her face as she feels all of it for the first time, of being the only male to ever touch her in that way—
I push the thoughts away firmly, focusing on Nadia. On my mate. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
“I know I have a choice,” she says quietly. “It’s just that I don’t know what I want yet.”
Her admission strikes directly at my heart. There’s a chance, then, that she might reject me. But I shake it off, choosing to focus on a happier subject as I glance down at her.
“Tell me about yourself,” I encourage her. “I want to know everything about you. Is Kalix the only planet you’ve been to other than your own?”
She shakes her head, her dark hair shifting over her shoulders. “We crash-landed on a planet called Wauru, after Commander Tordax and the other warriors rescued us. I don’t know if you’ve heard about all that. But before the Orkun abducted Brielle and me, I never even knew all of this existed.” She gestures at the space around us. “I never knew there was anything but Earth, and humans. I didn’t know there were other species, other people, whole other worlds.”
“Terra is remarkably isolationist in that regard.” I chuckle lightly. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes.” I can hear the enthusiasm in her voice, some of her shyness slipping away as she relaxes. We’re not touching, not so much as holding hands, but I feel her move a bit closer to me as we walk, keeping pace. “I was scared at first, obviously, when the Orkun took us. And suspicious after the Kalixians first rescued us.”
“You can’t be blamed for that. You’d just been abducted, and I’m sure everything seemed so strange.”
“Exactly.” She smiles up at me, and it sends a thrill through me to see it. “But then, on Wauru, once I got a little more used to everything…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Then it started to be exciting. Whole new worlds, ones I never knew about and had never seen. I couldn’t quite believe it. It started to feel like an adventure. By the time we made it to Kalix and the king told us that we could stay or choose to go back to Earth, it didn’t feel like much of a choice. I wanted to stay here.”
“And your sister?”
“She did too,” Nadia says quickly. “She might be suspicious of the bonds, and she’s pretty much entirely kept me away from the warriors until the feast last night—herself, too. But she knows we’ve got an opportunity for a better life here, and we don’t have a lot to go back to there. It made sense to stay for both of us.”
“I’m glad you did.”
As I look down at her, a breeze springs up, whipping her hair away from her face. She turns it up toward me, and my pulse lodges in my throat. I want to take her into my arms so badly, to draw her away from the street and behind one of the buildings, kissing her until neither one of us can breathe. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to do exactly that.
I’ve heard stories of the mating lust, of the drive to claim one’s Irisa, and I always thought it might have been a bit exaggerated. After all, I’ve felt desire often. But nothing like this. It’s a concentrated effort to keep my cock soft in her presence, and even so, I can feel myself steadily rising at times, the moment I’m even the slightest bit distracted.
The throb of anticipation in my blood is like a drug, making me feel restless and achy, and I know that if she accepts me, it will multiply a hundred-fold. I’ll be so desperately aroused that I won’t be able to keep myself from taking her as often as possible, as many times as she’ll allow. Just the thought of it, of that much pleasure, of that kind of wild, wanton coupling with this devastatingly beautiful woman is enough to drive me out of my mind with desire.
But I manage to keep ahold of it, nonetheless. I can tell that she’s shy and nervous, and I don’t want to frighten her. I want her to trust me implicitly, to know that I’ll always have her best interests at heart.
“It’s a beautiful city,” Nadia says, glancing around.
We’re nearing the market quarter, and the air is filled with vibrant scents wafting through this part of the city—fried foods and greasy meats, the warm, dusty smell of live animals waiting to be sold, the earthy scent of plants and the bright scents of fresh fruits and vegetables. The noise of it is invigorating. No matter what city I’m in, on any planet, the market quarter is always my favorite. Something about the sounds and smells of it, how vibrant it all is, the crush of people and eager bargaining, makes me feel more alive than almost anywhere else.
“It’s the most beautiful city in the universe, I think,” I tell Nadia. “And I’ve been to almost all of them,” I add, grinning rakishly down at her. “Whatever there is to see, I’ve just about seen it.”
“Yes, I hear you’re very worldly,” she says with a musical laugh. “Which makes me wonder, what do you see in me? I couldn’t be less like that if I’d tried.”
I turn toward her at that, opening my mouth to tell her exactly what it is that I see in her. How lovely she is. How sweet and kind and earnest she seems.
But before I can say any of that, there’s a sudden loud noise nearby. Voices rise in alarm as the Kalixians around us scatter.
It takes me only a heartbeat to see what’s happened. A large brovar has escaped.
Brovars are hooved, horned creatures used for pulling carts and sometimes for meat, and this one is a particularly massive example of its species. The thing is charging down the street, head lowered and a loud bray falling from its mouth as it thunders directly toward us.
Toward Nadia.
I react without thinking. I push her aside, using just enough force to get her off the path, and then I lunge forward, meeting the animal in its headlong rush as I sidestep it. As the brovar passes me, I grasp both the animal’s horns and pull its head back so that its front hooves come off the ground and it’s forced to stop. The muscles in my arms flex and strain powerfully as I haul the brovar backward.
There’s a general gasp from the crowd around me, but I ignore it. It wasn’t my intent to harm the animal—something spooked it, nothing more—and I murmur to it calmly, keeping it restrained with one arm over its eyes and a firm hand on one horn as I hold it in place. I keep patting the dirty fur of its neck and speaking in a low voice until it stops trying to charge and settles down, stamping one foot but remaining in place.
The brovar’s owner isn’t far behind, panting and cursing as he runs down the street with a length of rope in hand.
“I’m so sorry!” he exclaims. “Thank you. I can pay you for your trouble, if you want. I hope no one was harmed—”
“No one was hurt,” I assure him. “And there’s no need. Just keep a better eye on your stock, all right?”
He nods effusively, staring at me as he wraps the rope around the animal’s neck and
leads it away.
The moment the brovar is restrained, I turn to find Nadia in the crowd. She’s watching me, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She’s breathing a little heavily, her petite breasts rising and falling quickly above her arms, which are wrapped tightly around her waist.
As I stride toward her, I can pick up on what she’s feeling, just a little. I don’t know if it’s the bond or the simple matter of reading her body language—but I get the feeling she’s excited by what she just saw. It wasn’t particularly difficult for me to restrain the animal, if a little dangerous, but she doesn’t know that. And in this moment, I can see that she craves a little danger and adventure.
The bond drew her to me, but I know she’s attracted to my nature as well, to my confidence and worldliness, to the reckless adventure that the stories she’s likely heard about me represent to her.
If I were a man of more restraint—like Malav, perhaps, or Tordax, or Tycran—I would be cautious of that. I’d disabuse her of the romantic ideas she has, letting her know that my missions were dangerous and not lightly undertaken, that the far reaches of space can be frightening and deadly.
But I’m not that kind of man.
I was exhilarated by the danger of it just as she is right now, and something about the look in her eyes calls to me, heating my blood as I approach her.
Restrained or cautious have never been words to describe me. Since I was eighteen, I’ve known that my time to live could be cut abruptly short at any time. So I chose to live completely, vibrantly, and fully. I chose to grab on to life with both hands, enjoying all of it that I could while exacting revenge against the ones who took it away from so many others at the same time.
And I can see in Nadia’s eyes that she wants to do the same. She wants to live entirely, deliciously, dangerously. She might not know what that means yet, not really. And I know that I should warn her. I’m older than she is, more experienced. But if I’m being completely honest with myself…
I don’t want to.
I stand over her, looking down into her wide eyes. Her pulse is beating visibly in her throat as she looks up at me, and all I want to do is throw every ounce of caution to the wind and show her everything she could ever want to learn, to take her anywhere she could ever want to go. I want to do everything in the universe with her, and to her.
Something about her makes me feel more reckless and desirous than I’ve ever been in all of my existence.
“Come up in my ship with me,” I hear myself saying before I have a chance to think about the words coming out of my mouth. “I want to show you the view from space.”
Nadia breathes in, and my gaze drops to her mouth. I can’t help it. I want to crush her against me right here in the middle of the market, to wrap my arms around her and kiss her so thoroughly that she’ll never forget the shape of my lips or the way they feel pressed against hers.
She blinks slowly, almost as if she’s considering saying no. But I can see the yearning in her face—for me, for my offer, for everything that the universe could possibly have to offer her. I see her hovering on the edge of an internal precipice, caught between the safety her sister insists on and the adventure she longs for.
It makes me smile. My Irisa is small and delicate, fragile to look at, but there’s a fierceness hidden inside of her.
I’m certain of it.
9
Nadia
I stare up at Zatir, my heart beating so hard that it feels as if it might burst out of my chest. I feel as if I can hardly breathe.
My body feels tight with need, my skin prickling all over, the heavy ache inside me drawing me toward him. I want him so much, so badly. I know it’s the bond doing this… but it’s me, too. I’m sure of it.
This reckless, confident, insane man just stepped in front of something that looked very much like a bull charging at me and stopped it with his bare hands. As he strode toward me, his eyes locked on mine with a heat that I could feel burning through my blood, I realized I’d never been so aroused in my entire life. All I want is for him to kiss me, right here, right now, and I don’t care who sees us. I don’t care if my sister finds out. I want him.
And then he shocked me all over again.
Come up in my ship with me. I want to show you the view from space.
Every nerve in my body is alert as his words echo in my head, excitement and fear blazing through me all at once as I look up at him. I know how reckless this is to consider. I don’t even know this man, and I’m considering going up in a spaceship with him?
Brielle would tell me not to do this, not to trust Zatir to take me up alone in his ship. She’d say he’s just trying to get me away from everyone, away from prying eyes, away from anyone who might stop him from insisting that I consummate the bond, anyone who could help me if I said no.
I know exactly what she’d say. She would warn me that getting involved too fast was what got me in trouble last time—that it was trusting the wrong person too quickly, letting my heart get away from me when my head should have seen all the red flags. She’d remind me of how that ended, of the scars I still wear on my body, and of how I’ll feel if it happens all over again.
But I feel different with Zatir than I’ve ever felt with anyone. I feel, down to my bones, that Zatir is different. I didn’t feel this way with my awful, abusive, manipulative ex-boyfriend. I thought I loved him, but he didn’t make me feel like this. He didn’t look at me the way that Zatir is looking at me right now.
And I know the Kalixians are honorable. Zatir is more brash and roguish than any of them, and if I’m being honest with myself, I know that’s a large part of my attraction to him. But I still believe that he wouldn’t hurt me. I believe it entirely.
I made a mistake once. I can’t ever forget it, not completely. But I’m so, so tired of living my life in reaction to that mistake—constantly questioning my own judgement, my assessment of people, and how I feel about them. Wondering if I’m reading them wrong or if I’m letting myself be too naïve.
So in this moment, I decide to do something more daring than I’ve ever done—and I decide to trust myself again. To trust how I feel, just one more time. To see where it takes me.
It might lead me somewhere better than I could have ever dreamed.
“Yes,” I tell Zatir, adrenaline rushing through me as the word leaves my lips. “Let’s go.”
He grins down at me, clearly pleased with my response, and the smile on his face sends butterflies sweeping through my stomach, fluttering out to the tips of my fingers as a delicious shiver moves down my spine.
Yes, I think, as he reaches out for my hand.
His skin brushes against mine, and the contact seems to burn through me, lighting my every nerve on fire as his fingers intertwine with mine. I feel alive, truly alive, for the first time in so long. I feel overwhelmed with it, full of nervous energy at the reckless decision I’ve just made, and I close my hand around Zatir’s.
The nerves are building, but I won’t turn back now. I know I’d regret it if I did.
He doesn’t let go of my hand, holding it the entire way as we walk toward the dock where the ships are kept.
“My ship is small,” he tells me with a grin as he leads me toward it. “But I’ve made a lot of modifications to her. She’s one of the fastest out there now, quick and nimble. She’s saved my life more than once.”
“You talk about your ship like it’s a person,” I tease him.
“She is,” he insists, his smile broadening. “Or might as well be, as attached as I am to her. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, until you.” His gaze heats, and I flush all over again.
Beautiful isn’t necessarily the word I would choose, once I get a good look at his ship. It’s clearly heavily modified like Zatir said, especially next to the other, standard Kalixian ships on the dock.
It’s patched in places, the rivets and seams visible, but it’s also clear that whatever was done to the ship, it was a
labor of love. Looking at Zatir’s face, it’s clear that he adores the vessel, on par with the feelings someone might have for another person. And if the stories and rumors I’ve heard are true, it makes sense. That ship has clearly gotten him through a lot of battles and out of a lot of scrapes.
“Come on,” the dark-haired Kalixian says, waggling his eyebrows at me as he leads me forward. His fingers are still interlaced with mine, and I find that I don’t want to let go of his hand. It feels good, having him next to me. I feel more excited and invigorated than I have in a long time.
“There’s not much to it,” he tells me as we board. “That way is the cockpit. I’ll help you get strapped in there before we take off. Down the hall, there’s a small galley and a cabin, and a common room.”
“I love it,” I tell him, and I mean it. The ship is small, but it feels cozy. Personal. Like being invited into someone’s apartment for the first time.
A pleased light gleams in Zatir’s eyes as I say the words, and it surprises me how happy that makes me. Is it the bond making me feel this way? Or am I developing a connection to him separate from the mate bond?
I wish I knew how it all works.
After we get back, I’ll go talk to Lucy, I think to myself.
She’ll explain more of this to me. After all, her mate took a while to come around to the idea of the bond. She’s the least shy of all the women about these things, and the one I know best. Maybe she can help me navigate these new and unfamiliar feelings.
“Here we go.” Zatir leads me into the cockpit. “That’s my seat.” He points to the chair in front of the controls. “And you’ll go here.” There’s another seat a few inches away, with straps to buckle in for takeoff. “Usually, that would be for a co-pilot, but I typically fly alone. This is a rare occasion,” he says, grinning at me as I sit down.