by Regine Abel
My hands instinctively flew to his shoulders, and his found their way to the small of my back. My breath caught in my throat as he swallowed painfully and the scent of cinnamon tickled my nose. I stared at his neck, wondering if my eyes were tricking me or if it looked a little swollen. Could his mating glands…?
“They’ve been throbbing since the first time I saw you on Thirilia,” Chaos said, his voice dipping deeper. “Sometimes, they swell so much in your presence that I don’t think I will be able to carry on any type of conversation.”
This time, a full-on inferno raged in my stomach while my mind attempted to process what he was saying. I couldn’t possibly have heard what I thought I had.
“Me?” I breathed out. “Your glands have awakened for me?”
“Yes, Sabra, for you. I’ve waited sixty-four years to find you.”
“I’m your soulmate?” I insisted, needing to be sure beyond any doubt.
“Yes, Sabra. You are my soulmate.”
The same vulnerability took over his features as he awaited my response, making me melt from the inside out. To my surprise, he didn’t spy on my aura to find out. I wanted to scream and shout with joy, and shout to the world that he was mine. Instead, the dumbest words came out of my mouth.
“I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” I exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.
For a second, he appeared at a loss for words. “We’ve been taught—”
“Fuck what you’ve been taught,” I snarled, interrupting him. I pressed myself harder against him, my arms wrapping around his neck while his hands tightened their hold on my back. “When it comes to you and me, there’s only one rule: no rules. And the answer to your question is heck yes!” I added, my eyes locked on his lips.
Heart pounding, I watched his head lower and then the warm and soft cushion of his lips pressed against mine, at long last. Liquid fire erupted in the depths of my core and spread outwards, coursing through my veins. The blast of desire and happiness that swept through me took me by surprise. I hadn’t realized I had lowered my empathic shield but didn’t care. Chaos’s pleasure and nervousness echoed mine.
I wouldn’t have labelled our kiss clumsy, but rather tentative and timid. Oddly, his obvious lack of experience made me feel more at ease with my own. My lips parted instinctively, and his tongue wasted no time staking its claim. He tasted sweet and slightly spicy, like roasted cinnamon. I melted against him as he took command, one of his strong arms holding me close as if he feared I would run away, while his other hand caressed my back with an incredibly soft touch. It traced a path up to my nape before fisting my hair and pulling my head back, breaking the kiss.
Breathing heavily, my blood rushing in my ears, I drowned in the fathomless depths of his obsidian eyes locked with mine.
“My mate,” Chaos whispered with a possessiveness that made my toes curl. “My beautiful mate.”
He suddenly lifted me in his arms. I yelped in surprise, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“My man,” I said, holding myself up with one arm and caressing his short hair with the other.
I admired every single one of his perfect features, from the delicate golden scales that shaped his eyebrows and covered his forehead and part of his cheeks, his noble nose that gave him a regal air, the square jaw that spoke volumes of his strong and willful personality, and those sinful lips that I wanted to taste again.
Maker, he is mine! Truly mine!
I captured his lips again, losing myself in the feel of his strong body around me, and the intimate caress of his consciousness brushing against mine.
Chaos suddenly stiffened and pulled away with a frustrated growl. Through the fog of pleasure surrounding me, I gave him a questioning look.
“Raven is coming,” he grumbled against my lips before putting me back on my feet. “I had asked you to come earlier so that we could talk about the mission before he showed up.”
“The mission?” I asked, perking up even as I felt bereft to no longer be in his arms.
He adjusted the short skirt of my uniform dress—which Ayana called our Uhura uniform as it indeed had a similar cut to the Star Fleet dress uniform the famous character had worn in that old Earth TV show. It was rather endearing to see Chaos protecting my modesty, especially with the jealously possessive vibes that oozed out of him in droves.
“You are coming with us as my Soulcatcher,” Chaos said.
My squeal of joy hurt even my own ears. I threw myself into his arms just as the door to his office opened.
“Wow, should I come back later?” Raven asked in a teasing voice.
Mortified, I tried to move away, but Chaos tightened his grip around me, holding me against his side. Raven’s eyes widened for a split second, and then he emitted a wave of approval that made me feel warm inside.
“Finally, old timer, you staked your claim,” he said mockingly, although his eyes gleamed with affection. “I was starting to think you needed me to show you how.”
“Bite me,” Chaos growled, making me chuckle with a mix of amusement and embarrassment.
“I’ll leave that to the kids, especially your Godson. I don’t think Defiant will ever stop teething,” Raven said with a long-suffering expression that made me laugh again. “So, what can I do for you?”
Chaos gestured for us to settle in the seating area of his office. Everything was too neat and too barren. I would have to start sneaking in some little decorations to make it more alive without making it cluttered, or he might rebel. It struck me again how surreal it was that as his new girlfriend—hell, as his soulmate—it would now be well within my rights, if not part of my duties. I swallowed back the urge to squeal again.
I sat on the large three-cushion couch. Chaos settled next to me and passed a possessive arm around my shoulders while Raven took the chair across from us. I sensed a sliver of hesitation from Chaos that I didn’t quite know how to interpret, as if he was worried about my reaction. But to what? I leaned against him and his tension immediately lessened. Had he been worried that I might be displeased by his physical display of affection?
“I’ve just informed Sabra that she will be joining the mission. But I want to make some changes to her training before our departure in three days,” Chaos said. “She is to be dispensed with the regular Aspirant training until our return. I want you to focus on her Ghosting abilities, and I want her and Varnog to work closely together so that he can shadow her while she does.”
Raven’s eyes widened, and then he grinned mischievously. “That’s a brilliant idea! I’m almost sorry I won’t get to tag along on this one. With the two of them and Stran, you guys are going to be unstoppable.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, completely confused as to what was going on.
“You’ll see very soon,” Raven said with a grin.
“Make sure to give them a protocol they can continue to practice with during our ten-day trip to the Moon of Melibos,” Chaos continued. “In-between all that, I want her to get familiar with our ship, the shuttles, and the whole process of reviving our Shells on rebirth tables. Later today, Ayana will help you practice soulcatching me,” Chaos added, looking at me.
A swarm of butterflies took flight in the pit of my stomach. I nodded, transfixed, my mind unable to come to grips with how radically things had changed since I’d entered his office today.
We spent the next twenty minutes discussing my training plans before Raven finally whisked me away to start putting it into action. But not before my man gave me a long, searing kiss goodbye.
Life was good.
Chapter 13
Chaos
Over the past four decades, I’d gone on far too many missions to count or even remember them all. But I knew this one would remain engraved in my very soul. Like all new members of the Vanguard, my woman was thrumming with excitement, even more so than during our trip to Fobos. This time, we weren’t going to investigate potential beings in distress, we were taking the fi
ght directly to the Kryptids.
After all these years, and after saying my ultimate farewell to Meredith—my first human Soulcatcher—I thought I had gotten over my fear of losing another one of our girls. Tabitha had been such a force to reckon with that it had become easier with time—but never easy—to be less panicked at the thought something might happen to her while my brothers and I were on the ground fighting. I would probably feel worried over any new Soulcatcher I could partner with, but Sabra being my mate took it to another level.
I wanted to safely tuck her away on Khepri with Victoria so that no harm would ever come to her. However, it wouldn’t be fair to her. How many times had I given Legion and Raven an earful when they, too, had wanted to keep their mates safe at home while they battled? It wasn’t pleasant to have my own arguments turned against me… by me.
The soft chime of my quarters’ doorbell startled me out of my musings, and my hearts picked up the pace in anticipation.
We were on the second day of our trip to the Moon of Melibos, deep inside Kryptid space. After much back and forth, we’d decided to travel with one of our larger chasers since we were planning a surgical strike rather than a massive raid. With the more limited number of private quarters aboard the vessel, assigning them had been a little awkward. The news that Sabra was my soulmate had spread like wildfire, further fueled by me greedily holding her hand or having my arm around her waist or shoulders every chance I got, even in public. Naturally, everyone assumed we would share the same room, but we hadn’t crossed that bridge yet. While I would have loved nothing more—even if we didn’t go further than cuddling, I didn’t want her to feel pressured.
Therefore, she got her own room.
“Come in,” I called out, while rising to my feet from the desk where I’d been reviewing the last analysis reports Tabitha had compiled on our destination.
The door opened with a soft swish, revealing my beautiful mate. Her long, black, wavy hair fell freely down over her shoulders, just the way I liked it. Wearing a white sports bra and an above-the-knee-length flowy, white skirt, my female looked good enough to eat. And that wretched little ring piercing her navel made my mouth water, forcing me to swallow past the throbbing of my swelling mating glands.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, coming straight into my open arms.
I lifted her up for a kiss. I didn’t know why I systematically did that. Even though I towered over her by a good head, Sabra wasn’t short. But the feel of her body against mine, her light weight in my arms, and having her as my temporary captive did crazy things to me. I still couldn’t believe I had found her after all this time.
We kissed, slowly, deeply. I’d worried at first that Sabra would be turned off by my lack of experience, but finding her as much a novice as I was did more than alleviate my worries, it also allowed me to relax in her presence. We were learning what we liked together, no baggage, no comparisons, no boundaries. I only hoped that the day we went all the way, I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.
I loved the sweet taste of her lips, and the salty-sweetness of her skin as I kissed and nipped her jaw line and the tender flesh of her neck. Without stopping the sensual exploration of my woman, I walked over to the seating area. I laid her down onto one of the two cushions framing the domook table I had specifically requested be installed in my room before our departure.
Kneeling next to her, I kissed my woman again and then let my lips trail a path down to her breasts. I rubbed my face against the right one, then gently nipped at the hardening nipple through the fabric. Sabra moaned and arched her back, pressing her chest against my face. I smiled, loving how my woman responded to me and at how much fun it was to slowly discover the things that she enjoyed. While my thumb caressed the exposed skin of her side and flat stomach, left bare by her short sports bra, my lips continued their journey down to seize the treat that had taunted me from the moment she walked into my quarters. Sabra’s stomach quivered when my tongue tickled her navel, and my teeth gently pulled on the ring adorning it before nipping at the soft skin around it.
The needy way my mate whispered my name sent my blood rushing to my groin. The cinnamon scent of my own pheromones heightened my blossoming desire, adding to the growing discomfort of my cock throbbing and demanding to be freed of its confines. Grinding my teeth to silence my fangs also aching to make an appearance, I forced myself to stop before I got carried away.
“You’re not going to leave me hanging like this?” Sabra asked with incredulity as I straightened and helped her sit up.
“Yes. You’re here to train, young lady, not play,” I said with fake severity, while clamping down the fire raging deep inside me.
She gaped at me while I circled the table to settle cross-legged on the cushion across the small table from her. Sabra scrunched her face, looking like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to shake me, punch me, or call a psychiatrist.
“You really need to learn to loosen up,” she mumbled, eyeing me balefully. “And get a better sense of priorities.”
“Work first, play after,” I said, pretending to be unmoved by her annoyance, when I wanted nothing more than to resume where I’d left off.
“Why not do both at the same time?” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “We need to reinforce our psychic bond to improve the efficiency and range of me soulcatching you. What better way than through intimately close interactions?”
“Which is exactly what we are about to do,” I said, gesturing at the table of domook before us.
“How the heck does playing Thirilian chess qualify as intimate, or training for that matter?” she asked in an adorably grumpy tone.
“Because we will play with you using your empathic ability to try and anticipate my next move, to detect the traps I’m setting for you, to realize when you’re playing right into my hands so that you can adjust accordingly, and to learn to recognize when I’m bluffing,” I said, falling into my serious trainer role while setting the pieces on the board.
Although still a little frustrated that our playtime had been cut short—which did wonders for my shaky ego as far as my amorous skills were concerned—Sabra was starting to get onboard with the idea, seeing how this could benefit us on the field.
“You get to start,” I said, pretending myself magnanimous, which only earned me another baleful look.
I chuckled, surprised how much I enjoyed my woman’s playfulness. Her first few moves were quite safe, opening with her pawns. It pleased me, as it showed that, despite her disappointment, she was taking her training seriously. While I didn’t doubt for a moment that she was a more aggressive and competitive player, with this being our first match, she was trying to assess what type of player I was.
For a moment, I almost revised that assessment, the way she was increasingly leaving herself open, but then I realized she was testing my own skill level, whether I saw those openings or not. Playing along, I deliberately ignored some of them, while expressing excessive joy at others that I acted upon. Although I ended up winning, Sabra hadn’t been fazed—or fooled—in the least.
I won the second match as well, but this time, it had been a close call. While she’d left herself open on purpose a few times, my mate had also amped up the strategic difficulty of her moves, forcing me to focus even more on the game and to plan at least four or five moves in advance.
“New rules,” Sabra said as we reset the board.
I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, my curiosity further heightened by the mischievous glimmer in her eyes.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“For the following matches, every turn will be timed to ten seconds,” Sabra stated.
My brows shot up. “Ten? Why? Domook is already a fast game, unlike regular chess,” I argued.
“True, but on the field, things move even faster,” Sabra countered. “We need to make potentially critical decisions in a split second.”
I nodded slowly, impressed but wondering what more hid behind that request
.
“True,” I echoed in concession. “But I wasn’t planning on moving to that before our second or third session.”
“As you can see, I’m a fast learner,” she said, making a taunting face at me. “And there’s another rule change.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Yep. Every time I win, you have to do something I ask without question,” Sabra said, matter-of-factly.
“Something like what?” I asked, disbelieving but unable to resist a chuckle.
“Like removing a piece of clothing that I choose,” she replied, lifting her chin provocatively.
My arousal, that had temporarily gone to sleep while playing, reared its head with a vengeance.
“You want to play strip domook?” I exclaimed.
“You could almost call it that,” she said with a shrug. “But not really considering it’s only when I win, and that was only one example.”
“And what about when I win,” I asked, frowning slightly.
“You won’t,” she said with a cockiness that left me speechless for a second before I burst out laughing.
“You seem to forget that I’ve just spanked you two times in a row,” I said smugly.
“Because I let you,” she deadpanned. “But sure, if you win—which you won’t—you get to ask me to do something that doesn’t interfere with my new rules.”
“Very well,” I said with a predatory smile. “I’ll play along. And I’ll even let you start again.”
This time, she was no longer testing the waters, opening far more aggressively. I immediately blocked off my emotions to up the ante. My mate’s head instantly jerked up to stare at me with outrage.
“Hey! You blocked yourself off!” she exclaimed accusingly.
“Yes,” I said smugly while making my move. “Your new rules didn’t forbid it, and your enemies in the field might do it or use disruptors. What will you do then?”
“Empathy cannot be blocked by disruptors, and I can force my way through your emotional barrier,” Sabra countered with a ‘gotcha’ expression on her face.