Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6

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Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6 Page 21

by Ashley L. Hunt


  When they were done interrogating Phoebe, Vi’den thanked her. He then turned his gaze to me and said, “We would be glad to hear your account of the event, Zuran, but I must ask you remain calm and collected.”

  I sneered, but I did not argue. I was going to tell my story and, if being calm and collected would be what made the Council listen, I would oblige.

  I told them what had happened very similarly to Phoebe’s recounting, though I included the extra details of the time spent running through the palace with Venan and the other guard in search of the Novai. When I reached the part about finding Kharid locked in battle with the Novai, however, I became impassioned.

  “They were hand-to-hand,” I said. “The Novai was gaining on him, pushing him backward. It was only a matter of seconds before the Novai would have had the advantage and, at that point, it may have been too late. The Novai have been known to be very quick to attack, and Venan did what he needed to do to stop the Novai from killing an Elder.”

  “By killing the Elder himself?”

  I snarled, whipping my head around to see the mean-faced Sevani glaring at me. If I had not been on a podium in front of the entire Council fighting for my brother’s exoneration, I would have pounced on him and torn him limb from limb just to relieve the anger that was boiling within me. As it were, that was not an option, nor was becoming hostile with him.

  “He killed Kharid by mistake,” I said. I spoke very slowly, as if the Elders would have a difficult time understanding me otherwise. I wanted to impress upon them how sincerely I meant my words. “The sword was too long and too sharp. It went through the Novai and entered into Kharid’s chest before Venan knew what had happened. His only intention was to rescue our Elder from what could have been a very violent, unnecessary death.”

  Sevani made a noise in his throat, clearly disbelieving my perspective, but I opted not to respond. I was mad, but this was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment when I would be able to address the Elders and tell them my story to get Venan out from behind bars where he never deserved to be. I would not ruin it now.

  They did not ask me questions as they had the other two. Either they assumed I was too emotionally unstable to withstand an interrogation, or they simply felt they had all the information they needed. Vi’den looked from me to Phoebe and back again.

  “Is there anything else you feel the Council needs to know?” he asked politely.

  Phoebe shook her head, but I hesitated. I went over everything in my mind to make sure I had indeed imparted all of my knowledge. When I could think of nothing more, I said, “That is all.”

  “Thank you,” Vi’den acknowledged, graciously inclining his head. “Please take your seats again.”

  We did as he requested. I helped Phoebe step off the platform first, then I followed, and we sat down to watch the rest of the trial. I was now nervous rather than furious. It was now I would find out if Venan would be returning home of his own accord or if I would need to become the criminal I had never wanted to become again and break him out.

  “Have you anything else to say, Venan?” Vi’den asked.

  I expected Venan to say no, to say that everything that needed to be said had been said. I did not want him to go into further detail about anything for fear he would implicate himself by wording something incorrectly that would give the Elders the wrong impression. To my dismay, he began to speak.

  “I would like the Council to know I accept full responsibility for the passing of Elder Kharid,” he said. His voice was still monotone, but he stared hard at Vi’den in unblinking earnest. “I will accept any consequences doled to me without argument.”

  I tensed. I was willing Vi’den to say there would be no consequences, but he did not. Instead, after a brief look around the room, he told Venan, “The Council will need time to consider everything we have heard.”

  My jaw dropped. I had heard that, many years ago, there were trials in which a judgment was not made immediately. As far as I knew, though, that had not happened during my lifetime. Every trial I had had of my own, and every trial of others I knew, had ended with a firm ruling.

  Vi’den turned and whistled through the corner of his lips. The young A’li-uud appeared, and Vi’den told him in our language, “Please summon the guards to have Venan escorted back to his cell.”

  I jumped to my feet, ready to scream again, but, this time, Phoebe’s tug on my arm pulled me back down.

  “You need to stay in control of yourself,” she whispered. “For Venan’s sake.”

  She was right, regrettably. I gritted my teeth, shook my head, and closed my eyes. I had thought I was furious with Venan before, but it was nothing to how furious I was with him now. It was as if he did not care I wanted him free, that our parents needed him free.

  Venan was escorted from the podium by four guards. I recognized Feq amongst them. He met my eyes, but he did not smile, nor did he say anything. I understood, as he needed to maintain his cover. Once Venan was led away, Vi’den told Phoebe and me we were excused while the Council deliberated. We got to our feet, and, again, I considered saying something, but Phoebe’s words came back to me in a rush, and I opted against it.

  The boy was present again, ready to lead us back into the small round room. Before we could go, however, Ma’ris, the Elder beside Vi’den, called out to Phoebe.

  “Have there been any new developments?” he asked. “Any cures?”

  She looked at him and said ruefully, “No.”

  I saw Ma’ris exchange a look with Vi’den, but I did not have a chance to ask why they wanted to know or how this was relevant to Venan’s trial before the boy opened the door to the room and we were ushered in. I was going to have to wait.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Phoebe

  I’d expected to hear the Elders’ decision about Venan’s fate that night, but it turned out that wasn’t what was going to happen. Zuran and I were brought back to the hospital by Vi’den after a very long rant from Zuran, and Vi’den told us in his calm way he would return with news as soon as a decision had been made and Venan had been informed.

  Zuran was irate. He felt they were drawing out something that didn’t need drawing out, either because we’d given them enough to realize Venan was innocent or because they’d already decided he was guilty. When we got back to the hospital, it was the middle of the night, probably somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, and the entire facility was silent. Even the Novai were asleep, their eyes hidden behind eyelids we had only recently learned were there. I didn’t know if Zuran wanted to stay up and talk or if he just wanted to go to bed, so I waited for him to tell me.

  “Would you mind coming to my room?” he asked.

  He’d asked me that every night since we’d gotten back from Ka-lik’et. I always slept in his room now, and I found it comforting to be curled up next to his warm body and even more comforting to wake up in the morning and find his arm wrapped around my belly. I knew he asked to be polite, but he didn’t need to ask. Frankly, I probably would’ve been upset if he didn’t want me in his room.

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  He guided me down the corridor to the door that led to his personal residence, and we entered as quietly as we could so as not to enter anyone in the neighboring rooms. Once we were enclosed in the silence, I sat down on the bed and looked up at him, waiting to find out if he wanted to talk or sleep. He sat down on the bed beside me.

  “I am sorry I have been so angry lately, particularly tonight,” he apologized. “I know you have seen me become enraged, and I am certain that it is a frightening experience for you.”

  “No,” I contradicted right away. “It’s not frightening. The only part that scares me about it is that you’ll get yourself into trouble.”

  He nodded. “I understand, but I would still like to apologize. That is not how I wish you to see me.”

  I looked at him, lifted my hands, and cupped his face. I turned him to look at me straight on. “I see you,
” I said firmly. “All sides of you, even the less-than-pleasant ones. Your anger is not unjustified, just like Venan’s actions weren’t unjustified.”

  “I only hope the Elders view it the same way,” he mused. “From my understanding, the Council only takes time to deliberate rather than making an immediate decision in very rare circumstances.”

  I tilted my head. “Don’t you think the death of an Elder by his second-in-command is a pretty rare circumstance?”

  For a minute, I thought he was going to get mad again, but then the fury that had been lingering on his face for days finally broke. A hint of humor came through, and his eyes sparkled. “I suppose you have a point,” he said.

  He leaned in and kissed me, and I could feel the tension beginning to leave him through his lips. This was good. This was progress. All the stress would end up killing him, otherwise. When he pulled back, there was a new glint in his eyes, a glint I recognized from the inn on our travel back from Ka-lik’et. My stomach writhed in response.

  “What?” I asked suspiciously.

  “I believe the solution to my rage has been in front of me the whole time,” he said. “I think I may just need to take out some of my frustration.”

  I raised a brow. “Do you want to punch a pillow or something?”

  He laughed, but it was not a laugh of glee or delight. It was evil, threatening, and dangerous in the sexiest way.

  “No,” he replied smoothly. “But you may need to.”

  He leaned over me, guiding me back onto the blankets. I felt his fingers snake into the waistband of my pants, and he began to shimmy them downward. Immediately, I flushed as I realized his intentions. I bit my lower lip and looked down at him as he slowly undressed my lower half. He’d taken my panties with him when he eased my pants down, and, after several long seconds, my body was bare in front of him. He gazed at me for a moment in admiration, almost like he was staring at a painting in an art museum. He was considering me, studying me. Then, he lowered himself down between my legs, pushing my thighs apart, and placed his lips around my most intimate of places.

  All at once, electricity shot through me. My back arched on its own as his tongue slithered up the length of my folds to the bead at the very top before venturing back down again and rolling in a circle. I was amazed at how instinctively my body reacted. There hadn’t even been any foreplay or a preamble to build me up, but I felt like I didn’t need it. It was like I’d been ready for him this whole time, and now that it was happening, my body was on fire. Every nerve was spasming, and, as he suckled his lips around my button, I moaned. I didn’t even care if the doctors or healers in the rest of the residences could hear me. I was Zuran’s captive, willing to do anything he wanted and willing to let him do anything he wanted to me.

  His tongue snaked down again, but, this time, it burrowed inside just enough to send my hands shooting above my head to curl my fingers into the pillow upon which my head rested. I gripped it so tightly, I lost feeling in my fingertips, but I barely noticed because he flicked the very tip of his tongue over my hooded bead again at that moment. I realized this was a game to him, but I liked it. I liked that he was using me to release his frustrations. If how it already felt was indicative of what was to come, I was happy to be his voodoo doll anytime he needed.

  His hands were roaming up and down my figure as he licked, stroking my stomach and caressing my thighs and even sliding up beneath my shirt to cup my breasts and tweak my nipples. I was hot all over, but I couldn’t stop shivering. It was the most intense build I had ever experienced. He was flicking, he was fluttering, he was swirling, he was tapping, he was prodding. Anything he could possibly do with his tongue, he did, and anything he could do with his hands to drive me even crazier, he did that too.

  “God,” I groaned, lifting my hips up toward his mouth to increase the pressure. “Oh, god, don’t stop.”

  I felt him grin against me, his lips spreading wide to meet my thighs squeezing him, and he hummed. I felt the vibration from his throat all the way to my core, and I knew I was only seconds away from perhaps the most explosive climax I’d ever experienced in my life. He trilled his tongue, then, and that was it. I dove headfirst into euphoria, and he rode the wave with me with his skillful tongue and his eager fingers.

  When I finally came back to reality, he eased his movements to a still and looked up at me. His lips were shiny with my arousal, and there was a newfound lightness in his grin.

  “Have you released your frustrations?” I gasped, barely able to form words.

  He nipped my inner thigh. “For now,” he said carelessly. “But you might want to get some sleep. I have a feeling I will be frustrated again in a few hours.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Zuran

  “I can’t believe you never did this as a kid.” Phoebe tossed a handful of sand at me, splattering it across my midsection and covering my lap. “Even I did this, and I grew up in Ohio where there’s no desert or ocean.”

  We were sitting together outside in the patch of shade stretching across the ground from the hospital. She had found herself with several free hours to spare in between tending to the Novai, and, rather than holing up in my room like we normally did, I decided to take her outside for some fresh air. The start of the cool season was right around the corner, which meant we were now blessed with a day here and there in which the weather was not swelteringly hot. I was accustomed to Dhal’at and all of its extreme temperatures, but Phoebe was from a milder climate, so she was thrilled to join me outdoors without breaking into sweat within minutes.

  In front of her crossed legs, she had constructed several mounds of sand she had wettened with her drinking water into a circle. Now, she was trying to level off the tops with her palm. She claimed she was making a sandcastle, but I had never seen a castle that even slightly resembled her creation. I shook my head at the unrefined bumps.

  “No, I can honestly say I never made a castle of sand,” I told her with a snicker. “Though, if I am to be honest, this looks more like Finiba than a castle.”

  She threw another handful of sand my way, and I leaped at her, tackling her onto her back. Her legs flailed out in front of her. “No!” she shrieked, laughing and batting at my chest. “You’re going to knock it over!”

  I gnawed on her collarbone and listened to her squeal, then sat back and let her straighten up. She smoothed one of the hills her heel had dented in our brief fray. Her eyes were glittering, and her smile had not yet faded. I leaned forward over my lap to peer up at her from below, but she stubbornly avoided meeting my gaze. Scooting an inch toward her, I tried again. Still, she would not look at me as she tried to hold back the giggle I could hear building in her throat.

  “If you continue to pretend I am not here, sweetness, I am going to remind you how present I truly am,” I warned.

  She looked at me then, and I saw the indiscernible lift of her chin that signaled a rousing of defiance. “That’s some pretty big talk for someone who follows me around like a puppy,” she shot back teasingly.

  I knew not what a puppy was, but I had started to recognize her queer human adages and let them go unquestioned as a mere figure of speech. She was quite right in her assessment of me as of late: I had spent every moment I could with her, waiting for her to complete her nursing duties with bated breath and dreading when she would have to return to them. Sometimes, I even trailed around the ward with her and helped with menial tasks like entering observations into the data bank or fetching an instrument from the laboratory. Phoebe had become the only connection to sanity I had left.

  A whole week had passed since the trial, and I had not yet heard a word. I could not fathom the Elders were still in deliberations, but Venan’s case was a unique and serious one, so I had no measuring stick to compare what an appropriate stretch of time would be to wait before seeking the Council out myself and demanding answers. From dawn until dusk, and oftentimes in between, I was wrought with anxiety. My appetite had disappeared into not
hingness, and the hard knot of nerves in my stomach became a permanent fixture of my anatomy. I was starting to understand why Venan had looked so deteriorated, for I could not find it within myself to eat and when Phoebe forced food upon me I only ended up feeling sick. My senses were constantly alert, my ears pricked for the sound of an arriving Elder landing on the sand, my eyes darting whenever I saw the slightest movement in my peripheral vision. Proper sleep had become an unattainable luxury rather than a necessary behavior—though, Phoebe suffered through that with me to an extent, as I habitually woke her throughout the night to bury my mouth between her thighs and conduct her symphony of moans. She was the sole distraction from my obsession about the trial, and I had become addicted to the relief she provided. The hours without her while she tended the Novai were filled with fear I did not want to confront.

  “Here,” she said, reaching for my hand and plopping it on top of one of the sand humps. “Put some windows on that.”

  I looked at her sardonically, tilting my head and allowing the foremost strands of my hair to slip over my face. “Am I to shape and fit shards of glass?” I smirked. “Perhaps color-coordinate the frames?”

  She grabbed a fist of sand, but I raised my brow threateningly, and she reconsidered her response with a tittering shiver. “No, just draw with your finger,” she instructed. She prodded the tip of her own finger into the damp hill nearest her and made an awkwardly-shaped dent. I mimicked her movements, but I poked too deep, and a chunk of wet sand slipped down the incline to slop onto the dry sand below. She pursed her lips in consideration, and then said, “Well, we’ll just pretend that’s where the castle got hit with a cannonball or something.”

  Again, I did not know what she was talking about—I had never heard of a cannonball—but I grinned at her anyway. She beamed back at me before returning to pressing window dents into the clump. So focused was she that her tongue poked out from between her teeth and her eyes were progressively getting more and more squinted until the whites were gone and I could only see lashes. I continued to look at her, watching her while she worked.

 

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