Some of her good humor faded, and he wanted to kick himself. He wanted more than kisses, yet maybe this was better. He shouldn’t encourage her when she could do so much better than him. His one experiment with the opposite sex since he’d lost his arm hadn’t proved a success. His partner had refused to continue unless he turned off the light, even though he’d paid her for the privilege. Gweneth could have her choice of lovers.
“I thought we were past that.” Her sharp tone spoke of irritation. Anger.
Face the problem. “You’re beautiful, Gweneth. I wasn’t much to look at before I lost my arm. I’m a handicap.”
“What you are is an idiot. Why the experiment if you think we have no future? Our kisses are a rousing success. Don’t try to tell me you feel nothing because I won’t believe you.”
“I haven’t been with another female for ages.”
“Good. I don’t like to think of other females touching you.”
Ellard blinked.
“The experiment,” she prompted.
He blinked again, his mind not working at its normal pace. She almost sounded jealous of his other lovers.
“Ellard!”
“The voice keeps telling me to kiss you. We must give off sexual energy with each kiss.”
“Sheera and Leeam are hungry? That’s what you’re saying?” Gweneth curled her fingers to a fist, fighting the urge to jump up and down and cheer. Yes. Yes. Yes!
“I think so. I think that’s why they’re having difficulty communicating with us. I’m hearing snatches of words, sometimes very faint.”
“I felt something extra—a shove when you lifted me.”
“My theory is that helping us that way drained the last of their power.”
“We have to keep them alive. They’re kids starting out.”
Ellard’s brow furrowed. “They’re old enough to mate. They’re not youngsters any longer, not according to their Incorporeal race.”
“They stopped you running to find a clearing.”
“Yes, and they didn’t want us climbing to the top of the flat hill.”
They’d wanted her and Ellard to kiss. She could use this to nudge their relationship along in the correct direction. Stars, she could kiss Leeam and Sheera even though she hadn’t met them yet.
“The ship is heading back this way,” Ellard said.
Gweneth drew in a breath and clapped her hand over her mouth.
The ship came closer and appeared to hover above them.
Ellard eased up beside her. “They know we’re here. Must have heat-seeking equipment.”
“Friend or foe?”
“The voices say danger.”
The ship continued to hover.
“Off the path,” Ellard whispered. “The birds are heading back this way. Maybe they’ll think we’re birds too.”
Gweneth slipping into the trees with Ellard close on her heels. A thought occurred. “Stand close to me. They might think we’re bigger.”
“Good idea.”
Gweneth smothered her grin against his chest. What did Olivia used to say about kismet? Something about if it came calling to cast away doubt and embrace that bitch until you sucked it dry.
“They’re leaving.”
“Could be any number of reasons. What should we do?”
“On the assumption they’ve found us, I think we should stick to our plan. Find shelter and reassess in the whitelight. Hopefully, the dragons will realize something is amiss and find a way to get us out.”
“Makes sense. Can we use those leafy plants over there to fashion a shelter and something to rest on? They’re not the hungry type?” Gweneth straightened from her lean against Ellard and winced at the combined pain of several bruises. Not for the first time, she wished she could shift to feline to help speed her recovery.
Ellard trotted over to investigate the plants. When he started tearing the large green-and-pink leaves free from the main plant she joined him.
Once they had a pile, she grabbed an armful and followed Ellard. He plunged off the track again and into the trees until he neared a large rock formation.
“This will work. The rocks at our back and the trees are thick here. We can’t see the path, but we’re still close enough to get to it.” He dumped the leaves he carried. “Stay here. I’ll get the last of them.”
Despite the unrelenting aches and jabs of pain, Gweneth started to fashion a bed. If she stopped and sat down, she didn’t think she’d manage to start moving again.
Ellard returned with the last of the leaves. “I saw some sticks we can use to make a framework. The air feels wrong. It’s going to rain.”
“Delightful,” Gweneth muttered as he strode away. “Cold, wet and sore. A triple treat.”
Ellard returned and together, they constructed a rough frame. They draped the larger leaves over the top, layering them to make a roof.
Gweneth sank to the ground with a groan.
“Take off your tunic and let me check your bruises. In this heat, infection will set in quickly.”
Gweneth opened her mouth to argue then pressed her lips together. Getting naked with Ellard might spur him onward, give him a nudge in the right direction. She raised her arms and hissed. “You’ll have to help me.”
It took him longer with one arm, but their combined efforts finally worked.
“Phrull, that’s a big bruise on your ribs.” He traced the region with one gentle finger, and her breath caught at the scatter of sensations that darted from the point of contact.
“At least nothing appears broken. We were both lucky.”
A howl sounded in the distance, and they both lifted their heads, automatically scenting in the direction of the disturbance.
“Better grab a pile of stones and a stout stick. We possess one knife between us,” Gweneth said.
“The creature—whatever it is—isn’t close. Not yet. You stay there. I’ll collect a stash of sticks and stones. I want to check your wound while it’s still light enough to see.”
“My head isn’t too bad, not as painful as my ribs.”
“Yes.”
Ellard left and Gweneth attempted to relax. While she hadn’t planned her cycle to end this way, at least she was with Ellard.
By the time he returned, blacklight had settled in, bringing the area to creepy life. Shadows loomed, spread by the faint starlight that pierced the trees. The sounds were different, although the creature hadn’t howled again.
“Do you want to put on your tunic?”
“It’s still muggy. I think I’ll sleep better without it.” While Ellard had been away, she’d rolled it up into a neat pillow.
“It’s started to rain.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Ellard sat down beside her. “Thank you for not panicking.”
“Panic won’t help us.” She rolled closer until she felt the heat coming off his body. “We’ll get out of this mess alive. Ransom will come for us.”
“It might take them a while.”
“The Incorporeals will come.”
“Maybe not. There must be an explanation, a reason why Sheera and Leeam are trapped here.”
“You think it’s them and not something else?”
Ellard sighed. “If it’s another being, we might be in trouble. I prefer to stay with my theories until I have proof to the contrary.”
Gweneth smiled into the blacklight. Her too, because she could use this to advance her courtship. She rolled closer and Ellard’s good arm came around her. Without hurrying, she aimed in the general direction of his mouth. Her lips grazed his shoulder and moved on to the base of his neck where it met his shoulder.
A small rush of air escaped him, and she grinned. This time she pressed a harder kiss in that spot and added a bit of suction.
Ellard froze. He moaned and jerked from her touch.
“Is something wrong?” Gweneth knew of her crime. A cheeky move, but necessary if she wanted to keep Ellard off-balance.
“Don’t k
iss me there.”
“Why not?” Her feline half allowed her to see him a little, despite the reduced light. His green eyes held a storm of confusion and sensual heat. All emotion that offered encouragement. Somehow, she needed to maneuver him into taking the next step. She wanted him. Her feline wanted him, yet she sensed he needed to make this decision on his own. In this, she shouldn’t push.
“Gweneth, playing dumb doesn’t suit you.”
His terse words stung and she glanced away from his stern visage. He was right, damn it. Manipulation wouldn’t win his love. She needed to fight fair and square, to seduce and show him her heart. They had to get to understand one another, their strengths and weaknesses. No tricks.
“I’m sorry. I…I got carried away. Ellard, I wish you would see yourself in the way I see you.” The words, while impulsive, grabbed his attention. His frown dispersed.
“How do you see me?”
“I see a good and loyal man, a feline with a true heart. I see someone who would do anything for his family or friends. I see a feline male I could love and trust.”
The silence throbbed between them, and she wondered if she’d gone too far.
“Women never take a second glance at me,” he said finally.
He watched her with his cat-green gaze, his attention solely on her. Her heart began to thud instead of simply beat. Thud, thud, thud. Impossibly fast.
“Who do they look at? What do you think they see?” she whispered.
“Before Jarlath found Keira, they looked at him, and the women from the upper level families decided if they paid attention to me, they might have a chance of Jarlath returning their interest. The felines we met and the ones we socialized with used me to get to Shiloh and Lynx. The House of Cawdor used me to put a plan in place to cut the House of the Cat off at the knee. The fact a beautiful woman paid attention shocked me, and I never looked deeper or asked the questions that might have stopped their plan.”
“You can’t let the past color your actions.”
“Why not? We learn by experience. It’s how we grow.”
“That’s true, but we shouldn’t feel sorry for ourselves either. People are blind not to see the real you. When you smile, your eyes glow. You have beautiful eyes, Ellard. Seeing you that way makes my heart beat faster, my insides turn to mush and I start thinking about—”
“Don’t finish that thought.”
“You’re not frightened of a little frank talk about sex?”
His sharp intake of air and the subsequent gritting of his teeth made her pulse race even faster. “You’re too young for me, and you’re so beautiful, looking at you makes my teeth hurt.”
Gweneth stared in astonishment. Was that a confession of his sexual attraction to her?
“What happens if you change your mind?” His low, impassioned words held fear and betrayal and truth, yet a thread of hope underpinned the emotions.
Gweneth sensed if she handled his objections carefully, she might have a chance. A faint one, but she had to find the right words and that meant baring part of her hidden self. “You think I’ll change my mind? That my feline is steering me wrong?”
“I think you’re young. You’ve spent time with Ry and Camryn, exploring different worlds during your voyage to Viros. You haven’t met many males your age. You should have fun rather than stressing about your future.”
“I’m not too young to know my own mind.”
“There are hundreds of eligible males on Viros. The dragon shifters we met are interested too. I saw their stealthy glances, their appreciation of your beauty and brain.”
Pleasure suffused her at his words. He spoke of her intelligence. No male had ever complimented her in that way before.
“The lack of an arm is a handicap. My Stores made me whole once more, but losing it again has made me a liability. Don’t you want children? I’ve thought about bringing up a child and how I’d do things differently than my parents. But with one arm, it’s not easy to hold a child. How do I teach my son? How do I pass on the knowledge I’ve accumulated with my physical restrictions?”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not attractive. So what if you don’t have the looks of your brother or your friend? So what if you’ve lost an arm? No matter what you think, you can’t let the horrible things from your past define you.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Forge a path for the future. Do it your way. Don’t let others try to tell you what you can and can’t do. You’ve listed your shortcomings before, and I grow tired of your excuses. You are an intelligent male, one of position. You will fail if that is what you want. You can grow into a bitter old feline who snarls at everyone or you can embrace the life of your dreams. A child would be lucky to have you as their father.”
Ellard flopped over on his back to stare at the fern roof of their shelter. “You make it sound easy, doable. It’s not that simple. You haven’t faced the same handicaps. You’re beautiful and your looks make things much easier for you.”
“Crap,” she spat out. With one quick move, she straddled his hips and glared down at his startled face. “I’m going to tell you this once, then we won’t discuss it again.” She ignored the surge of his cock beneath her bottom, the tensing of his big chest and the watchfulness in his beautiful green eyes. “My father is the governor of the planet Ornum. Ornum is an inhospitable hole—the armpit of the Citron universe. It’s the place where neighboring planets send their prisoners, those who have committed terrible crimes. My mother was feline, yet she never shifted and she didn’t bear a cat tattoo on her cheek. I believe my parents were happy and had a good marriage, but my mother contracted an illness and died when I reached ten rotations.”
“I’m sorry,” Ellard said. “That must have been difficult.”
“I still miss her every cycle.”
“You’ve made your point,” he said. “You had a difficult childhood. You can get off me now.”
“I haven’t finished,” she snapped.
Ellard fell silent, and she took that as a sign to continue.
“My father hired a nanny for me. Amme. He grew distant, and I believe that occurred because he missed my mother so much. The depiction I have of her—we look a lot alike. As I matured, the cat tattoo became visible on my cheek. My father didn’t approve. The mark horrified him, because it meant my mother had kept secrets from him. He ordered me to wear a mask while in his presence or whenever I ventured from his mansion. He insisted I cover my face.” Their gazes connected and held. “I know how it feels to be judged for my looks. My father couldn’t bear to see my face, and whenever I went out in public, people whispered and gossiped about the reasons I wore a mask. How is that any different? People still stare at my tattoo, which is why I cover it with makeup sometimes or use a potion Mogens developed during our Earth visit.” Her lips twisted. “Just so I can feel normal.”
“Your father ordered you to wear a mask?” Horror reverberated off each stiff word, and she could see his feline very close to the surface.
At her clipped nod, his breath hissed free. He raised his hand to brush his fingers over the small black tattoo on her cheek.
“How did you come to join Ry and the Indy crew? I’ve always wondered.”
The question—one she knew would come—hurt all the same. She braced as pain and shame struck at the heart of her. She scrambled for equilibrium, but not before the backs of her eyes smarted and her hands clawed into her thighs. A foreign snarl echoed through her mind, shocking her as she recognized her feline’s distress. Surprisingly, she become more aware of her with each passing cycle.
“Gweneth?”
She nodded in response, her thoughts tossed back into the past and the moment when her world had rocked off its axis.
She and Amme had returned from a shopping excursion in the better part of the town. They had entered the house and given their packages to the junior servant.
“Miss Gweneth,” the butler had intoned.
�
�Good morn, Gastonique.”
“The master wishes to see you in his study.”
“Thank you. I’ll go and change. I stepped off the path just as a wagon drove past.” She gestured at the muddy hem of her gown. “I won’t take long.”
“Your father wishes to see you.” Not a shred of expression crept into Gastonique’s stern and craggy features. “He has summoned me twice already.”
Gweneth nodded and stiffened her spine. Amme gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as she turned in the direction of her father’s study. Before she tapped on the carved wooden door, she took a sec to check her fabric mask remained in position and none of her face would be visible to her father. She sucked in a quick breath and tapped twice before pausing to listen for her father’s permission to enter.
“Come.”
She pushed open the door, stepped through, and after closing it again, she approached his large desk. He spoke on a communicator and spat directions at one of his aids like a robotic machine. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Two upright chairs sat in front of his gleaming black stone desk, but she knew not to take a seat. This meeting would be short. She stood to attention, hands clasped behind her back, gaze downcast. He would notice her muddy hem. He noticed everything.
After another series of orders to his aid, he disconnected.
“Where have you been? I requested your presence this morn.”
Gweneth stared through the eye slits of her mask. Her father lacked presence, a short, squat man with an uncertain temper to make up for the shortcoming. He ruled the prison planet of Ornum with a steel glove and his underlings jumped to his every order. She often wondered why her mother married him—that was until the cat tattoo formed on her cheek. Her mother had kept secrets and taken them with her to the grave. Sometimes, she wondered if her father intended to punish her or her mother.
“Answer me.”
“Amme and I did some errands. I required new masks.” A spurt of satisfaction filled her at the subtle barb. Her father could hardly castigate her since she merely followed his orders.
“I have decided to hold a hell-horse race. A special one to raise funds for the city.”
In other words, to fill his deep pockets. She didn’t think he required a response, so she remained silent.
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