by Ivy Cross
“Eat, bathe, rest,” she says, clearly reading some of what I’m thinking. “You guys pick the order, but I insist you do all three.”
“There is one matter that needs to be discussed first…” Atrae looks to Dekkar, then back down to Talia. “I realize things have changed for you now that Regar has been deposed, but where exactly does that leave the Vanthae and the Calji?”
“The deal stands,” Dekkar replies. He guides us further into the room to sit on a pair of long wooden benches. “In fact, my messengers have sent word to Jaha expressing my wishes to expand the pact even further. It makes little sense for the Calji and Vanthae people to stay separated—your village is in decline and we have much to offer here.”
“You would combine the tribes?” Atrae asks.
“I would. Do you not agree?”
Atrae shakes his head solemnly. “No, I believe it is the correct course. A handful of cycles ago, I might not have been happy with the idea. But it is clear we cannot continue as we are. And the Qarna grow bolder.”
“I have my thoughts on that matter as well,” Dekkar says. “But there will be time for that later.”
“That’s not the only problem,” I blurt. “We’re sort of on the lam…” I look from Dekkar to Talia, then back to Atrae, taking some comfort in the warmth I find in his eyes. “Jaha wants me dead—probably wants Atrae dead too at this point.”
“What?” Talia asks, shifting forward on her bench.
“It was Jaha’s doing from the start,” Atrae says. “There was an incident involving one of our guards and Bailey. Jaha thought Regar would see it as weakness if he did not exact immediate punishment.”
“Jaha is correct,” Dekkar says. “Regar would have seen it as weakness. Fortunately, Regar is no longer leader. And Jaha will accept that the two of you are under my protection. He has little choice at this point…”
“Then it’s settled,” Talia says, standing. “We’ll get you all a place to rest and clean up. And then we’ll have supper together. Dekkar roasts a mean brisna.”
Chapter 19 – Atrae
“Leave me.”
The Vanthae guard offers a curt nod and marches away, leaving me to enter the hut alone. Like the exterior, the inner chamber is pristine and has the warm smells of newly hewn boards and freshly cut reeds.
I walk to a back room and splash water on my face from a basin there. It is scented with the fragrant leaves of the lailae plant.
My hosts’ hospitality has been beyond courteous, but the sight of this thriving village fills me with a pang of sadness for what the Calji once had. Dekkar may have the right of it—we should combine the tribes and move the rest of my people here. Jaha will have some qualms with the prospect of losing his position of power, but that will not be enough to sway the events that are sweeping down on us. And perhaps Dekkar will keep the old man around as an advisor of sorts… he certainly has experience on his side.
I stride back into the main chamber and pace the limits of the room. Briefly, I consider walking the paths of the village, seeing what life here might be like. But I only make it as far as the door before turning back and dropping heavily to a bench.
Bailey and her fellow human were taken to a hut of their own. Probably another new build such as this one… I imagine she will take advantage of all that is on offer. As well she should—her days and nights have been difficult to this point. She lets on little, holding her chin high in the face of hardship—another trait that reminds me of Llea—but, still, I can see it. The pain and stress creep around the edges of her shining eyes.
A knock at the hut’s door startles me from my thoughts.
“Enter.”
I expect the Vanthae guard, perhaps returned to summon me to Dekkar’s feast, but I am treated to a vision of Bailey instead. She hesitantly pushes open the door and steps through. She is dressed in a simple tunic, and her hair still gleams wet from her bath. As she comes nearer, she brushes a hand back through the dripping strands.
“I guess they don’t really do hairdryers here.” She stops for a moment and studies me. “I’m not interrupting, am I? If you were resting or meditating or something, I can—”
“No, I was only sitting,” I say. “Sitting and trying to figure out why, when everything has turned out better than expected, I still feel so uneasy. Perhaps, it is only the changes that are on the wind… so much new to deal with.”
Bailey finds a seat on the opposite bench and holds me with her piercing eyes for a long moment. As appealing as I find those eyes, it is difficult to sit through such an appraising stare. It feels like there is no part hidden from her shrewd gaze—no secret left buried.
“Are you sure that’s what it is?”
She continues before I can answer.
“Because I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s happened—in general and between us. But especially between us. I think you’re wrong, Atrae.”
I do not need to ask her in what way I have been wrong, but I do anyway. Maybe it is only to stall. Or perhaps it is because I think she is right.
“I don’t think it works the way you said. I don’t think the specter, or whatever you want to call it, of your former mate appeared to you as a warning or reminder of some failure.”
She waits until I meet her eyes before continuing. “And I don’t think you get to pout and run away for the rest of your life when there are people all around that care about you.”
I do not respond immediately. Instead, I continue to watch her, letting my mind's eye glide over her until, inevitably, some of her features fade and become hazy. Until I see something of Llea sitting there again across from me. I blink and the vision is gone just as quickly as it came.
Bailey blows out a sigh and begins to stand. “Okay, I get the point…”
I stand as she does and grasp her by the shoulders gently. “No, you do not. I believe you are right.”
“You do?”
“I do. Those cycles ago, I did fail Llea. Of that, there can be no question. But when I look at you and see her… I do not see a look of disdain or judgment. So, perhaps I have all of this wrong.”
A strand of her cool, damp hair alights on the back of my hand.
I let my hands slide down from her shoulders to the smooth, soft flesh of her bare arms. When I touch her skin, something stirs within me—something that I have been fighting since the moment I met her.
“Perhaps there is something of a warning in my visions. A warning to better protect that which I hold dear. But I think, mostly, the reason I see Llea when I look at you is that you remind me of her. You do not resemble her outwardly, but you share much. You are strong, willful, and full of light. You remind me of how I once felt and how I might feel again, if I only allow myself.”
I trace the delicate curve of her jaw with the tips of my fingers. The look in her eyes says what I want to hear. What I need to hear. But I must be sure, as I can place little merit in what my eyes tell me.
“Do you feel as I do?” I ask. Now that my hands have caressed her supple curves, I can scarcely stop myself.
“I do. I think I do, at least. My time in this place has been nothing but chaos and change… but you have been the one constant, Atrae.”
“And, knowing what you know of my past, you would trust me as your mate? You would do me that honor?”
Bailey hesitates, and I fear I have been the fool once again.
“That’s not exactly how we would do it back where I come from… but we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Her lips arch in a smile that burns inside my chest. “So, yeah, I would trust you as my mate.”
In an instant, it is like a cold weight is lifted from my heart.
I pull the tiny human into my arms and hoist her into the air. Her delicate lips find mine, and I drink in the sweet taste of her frantic tongue. After a feverish moment, she pulls back from me and looks into my eyes.
“Who do you see now?”
I take a moment to look at her—to really see her.
&nb
sp; Relief floods into me.
“I see only you.”
Chapter 20 – Bailey
“You do not like the meat?”
Dekkar’s booming voice pulls me back to the present and away from my warm and pleasant daydreams. I look up to see him and Talia staring at me from across the wooden table in their tana hut.
“No, I mean, yes. Or… whichever means I think it’s fucking delicious.” Tal chuckles as I spear another chunk of the meat and shovel it into my mouth. It just about melts the moment it touches my tongue. Any other time, this meal would be the only thing on my mind.
But not today.
Atrae shifts next to me, and I notice his clay platter is empty. And then I notice Tal and Dekkar are finished, too…
“I guess I am lagging behind a little,” I say.
“Yeah, are you feeling alright?” Tal asks. “When we were up on the ship together, you pretty much fantasized nonstop about any meal that wasn’t that cat food shit they kept forcing on us.”
“God, don’t remind me. I’m still having nightmares about that stuff.”
“Your sleep is troubled?” Atrae asks. His voice is serious and concerned, almost comically so. “I did not know this.”
Tal grins as I backpedal. “No, not really. It was just a joke. Mostly…”
“Well, if you’re not all that hungry now, the meat will keep until you are,” Tal says. “We understand if you need some more rest. When I checked on Cara, she looked like she’d be down for about a week.”
I glance over at Atrae, trying not to be too obvious. He stares back with an open expression. “You would like me to take you back to your hut?”
“Uh, okay, maybe that would be best.” I look back across the table to Tal. “But if I didn’t say it before, thanks for this. I almost feel normal for the first time in… well, a long time.”
She smiles back. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s not been all that smooth up to this point but, when you think about it, things have worked out a hell of a lot better than they could have.”
“I’m glad to be here,” I say. “You have no idea.”
“I think I might.”
***
Atrae and I barely make it back to the hut before pouncing on one another. I think the stresses of the last few weeks have built up inside me, and now it’s like a pressure valve is about to pop.
And the change in Atrae is only adding to the need I feel. Almost all of the haunted look that shadowed his eyes is gone. Now, his every move seems to ripple with power and authority.
He lifts me into his arms the moment we cross the threshold. His hungry lips go to mine, part them, and then our tongues dance with one another.
“If you are tired…” he says in a breathless whisper.
“Gods, no.”
He smiles at my imitation of his phrase. It crinkles his eyes at the edges and warms his whole face.
“Good.”
He strides off to the back room, his muscles rippling beneath and against me, and places me gently on the downy bed. It sucks me down into it, cupping me gently like a nestled baby.
Atrae peers down at me for a long moment, letting his eyes rake up and down across my body. Even in the tunic, I can feel his stare penetrate to my bare flesh.
He slides his hands down to the clasps at the sides of his leathers. I don’t need further invitation. I shuck the shirt-dress up over my head and fling it to the floor.
Atrae pauses before finishing his clasps. His eyes once again return to my body, and his expression darkens to show an animal need.
“Gods,” he whispers. He flicks the clasp and his leathers drop to his feet.
Gods indeed.
It’s my turn to slather his body with my gaze. Every inch of him is magnificent. Even his slightest movement sends a ripple through the chiseled muscles that run throughout his whole body.
A primal hunger hits me like a sledgehammer. Seeing Atrae aroused by the sight of me—and, my god, is he aroused—awakens a kind of lust I have never known.
I reach out toward his ramrod cock, needing to feel it right now, but Atrae drops to his knees before I get the chance. His expression is a mixture of worry and something I can’t quite understand.
“You were injured in battle?”
He traces his fingers gingerly along one side of my stomach, causing a lightning storm of tingles to erupt in my skin.
I follow his eyes down to my naked body, but it still takes me a moment to understand.
“Oh, no, it was an operation. A medical procedure. I had to have my appendix removed.”
Atrae’s brow furrows. “A shaman cut you? To remove a blight?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s pretty much the gist.”
He lowers his head against me and presses his hot lips against the scar. The tingles erupt again, and when he reaches the edge of the small mark, he keeps going.
I drop back into the soft bed again, letting the waves of pleasure course through me. I moan, as Atrae’s kisses become playful nips and he glides ever lower.
He pushes my knees apart and moves in closer. A low growl warns me just before his tongue commands my sensitive folds to part. I get no warning when it lances out again, flicking urgently against the nub of my clit.
My moan becomes a scream of pleasure. The sensation sizzles through my core, and the sounds I make only spur Atrae into a fervor. He laps greedily at me, riding up and down with my body as I squirm and writhe on the edge of orgasm.
I buck my whole body and try to tell him what I want—that I need to feel him inside of me. Now. But I only manage another long moan.
Atrae seems to understand anyway.
He slides up my body, maddeningly grazing the entire length of my inner thigh with his thick, heavy cock. When he’s in position, I reach between us and take his shaft in my hand, as much to take possession of what is mine as to guide him where he’s urgently needed.
A moment of pressure, and an almost too-full feeling, then blinding pleasure. I gasp and Atrae’s mouth returns to mine, sucking my lower lip before biting delicately at the tender flesh of my throat.
His thrusts come more urgently now, each one punctuated by a ragged growl. His dark eyes bore into mine to form a connection as real as anything else happening between our entwined bodies.
I dissolve into those twin pools of darkness, my body flying apart in a thousand directions as I climax. Atrae pulls back for an agonizing moment, before driving inside me one last time. His own orgasm rips through him, tensing the massive muscles throughout his body. He doesn’t break eye contact even for a moment, until he finally collapses down to me, his mouth clinging to mine as though he might never get the chance again.
***
I come to with a start, visions of insect-like aliens buzzing around just behind my eyes. I’m not sure how long I slept, don’t even remember falling asleep, but the light filtering into the hut’s bedroom is the pale blue of late evening.
Atrae’s breathing beside me is the reassuring constant of a gentle tide lapping slowly against the warm sands of a beach. I watch him sleep for a moment. He’s uncovered, still naked, and as peaceful-looking as anyone I have ever seen.
I reach out and trace my fingers across the severe lines of Atrae’s muscular chest. Even sleeping he’s a fearsome sight to behold. But seeing him so restful, his massive chest rising and falling with a clockwork rhythm, makes my eyes heavy again. After the weeks I’ve had, maybe a solid twenty hours of sleep wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
And I think Tal is right. Everything considered, things couldn’t have worked out much better. There’s still another escape pod yet to be found, but the other surviving humans are all here and under the care of a leader that seems to be generous and kind… and wrapped around the little finger of Talia.
My eyelids slide almost closed, allowing me one last glimpse of my warrior beside me. I drift off gently with a smile on my lips, actually content for maybe the first time in my life.
Stolen
(A sneak peek of Untamed Warriors of Vanthae Book 3)
About a million years ago, when I was still a silly little girl with a familiar planet firmly under my feet and zero idea that that might not always be the case, I was in a car accident. It was a foggy morning, and my dad was driving me to school, I think. But who the hell knows for sure, right? It was a million years ago. What I do remember was the minivan lurching and then spinning into the air as it flipped. For a split second, from my position in the backseat it was like flying in a particularly ungraceful airplane.
Being tossed down to a planet from an alien slave ship is pretty much nothing like that car wreck from my memory. Except for that same godawful feeling in the pit of my stomach as we plummet to our likely deaths.
The only thing rivaling the crunchy abrasive sound coming from all corners is the high-pitched trill of holymarymotherofgod and similar cheerful phrases repeated from a couple of feet across from me.
“Could you not do that?” I half-yell over the constant grating rumble that is coming from the escape pod’s thin walls.
“I—I’m praying.” The dark-haired woman in the seat across from me interrupts her stream of babbling long enough to give me a look that’s equal parts bewilderment and disgust.
“Yeah, well, that’s fine and all. But maybe keep it to yourself. I feel like that Micro Machines guy is performing my last rites or something. It’s creepy as fuck.”
The woman harrumphs, which is pretty funny because she has to do it loudly enough to be heard over the ruckus.
My grandma was like that, God rest her soul (she’s not dead, but on the off chance the big guy’s listening, it’s about time to scoop that ol’ biddy up…). She never complained with words, but she tossed around sighs, groans, and looks of disappointment better than anyone I ever met. Before I stopped letting my mom drag me over to her house for our yearly Thanks-Christmas-McBirthday visit, it got to be like running into a mime who hated everything around her.