The Alien Exile_Syrek_Clans of the Ennoi

by Delia Roan

  “Yes, don’t you?”

  He stopped in front of her. “Only people who work on my ship have value. And their value lies in their work, not themselves.”

  “That’s a cynical way to live.”

  Syrek shrugged. “One might say it’s more realist than cynic.”

  Mara took a deep breath. “I disagree. The world is better than that. My human friends might be sleeping right now, but I know them. They have value. You cannot turn off the cryo-beds.”

  “Can I not?” He sounded amused.

  “No, you can’t.”

  He stretched out an arm and placed it beside her head, then leaned forward. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. “If you honestly believe that I cannot, then you do not know me at all. I am Syrekayan Ar’Zathris, son of Zathlassan Ar’Zathris, the man known as The Ennoi Butcher. There is nothing of which I am incapable.”

  Mara swallowed. At this distance, she could see the texture on his skin. His breath caressed her face, and she swore she felt the warmth of his skin on hers. She closed her eyes for a second, lost in the memory of their kiss.

  It had been good. No, better than good.

  Perfect.

  She could have stayed there in his arms forever. Somehow, the strangeness of her life had melted away under their mutual desire. As out of place as she felt on Haven, she felt like she belonged in that moment when he had kissed her.

  Except it was a kiss built on falsehood. She had thought he might have a heart underneath all that callousness, but his words right now told her that she was wrong. He could cast her aside without a second thought, and he could do the same for the sleeping humans.

  Too much was at stake. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by what-ifs. Nobody would advocate for Dannica and the others if Mara didn’t pull her head out of the clouds.

  Perfect lies. Perfect liar.

  She opened her eyes, and gasped because Syrek had taken the opportunity to step closer. His elbow, now bent, rested against her head, and the heat of his skin warmed her ear. He watched her with languid eyes, like a predator stalking a tasty morsel.

  “You were saying?”

  He’s trying to throw you off your game.

  He was using her attraction to him as a tool. The coil of desire in her belly sent up a shoot of outrage. He knew she wanted him, and he knew what effect he had on her.

  And he was using it, the jerk.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I want you to let my people live.”

  “How badly do you want them to live?” His words slid along her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. “What would you do to keep them alive?”

  Against her better judgment, her eyes closed, and she turned to press her cheek against the cool metal behind her. “I would do anything.”

  Syrek’s lips brushed her ear as he whispered. “Anything?”

  Her fingers curled into a fist, and she opened her eyes. She turned her head, and he leaned back far enough so he could see her face. Her eyes met his.

  “Anything,” she said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SYREK

  After spending the last few hours lying in bed with his head pounding, Syrek decided he vastly preferred being vertical, if it meant pressing up against the human. As far as distractions went, Mara proved to be an excellent one. She’d walked in the door and the ache in his body had subsided, as if by magic.

  She has cast a spell on me.

  In this moment, he could forget about the Ykine visit. He could forget about the overheating and cooling issues. He could forget that a few short hours ago, he had felt like death was riding up to claim him.

  At first, she’d been an annoyance, but the more she spoke, the more that coolness in her attitude stripped away, revealing the fire underneath. A fire that warmed him from the tingling in his scalp all the way down to his crotch, where matters were taking on a life of their own.

  He leaned closer, enjoying the way her breath hitched. He brushed his lips against her ear, smelling her fresh scent. The fine strands of her hair tickled his cheeks, catching on the stubble on his head. He longed to bury his hands into her hair, like he had the last time they had been this close.

  It was a challenge. He threw down the gauntlet, waiting for her balk and run. Over the years, he had learned to read his enemies. Their body language told him everything he needed to know to conquer, often even before they knew themselves what course of action they planned.

  She’s going to buckle.

  The tells were obvious. The nervousness in her voice, the tremble in her hands as they curled into fists, and the way she averted her face when he got close to her. She didn’t want to be here. If he pushed, just a little more, she would give into her fear.

  Why am I doing this?

  Because I want to see her fight back.

  Morbid curiosity begged him to experiment, to keep goading her until she either broke or bloomed.

  “Anything?” he whispered into her ear.

  Her lashes fluttered against her cheek, and her breathing stopped. He withdrew, watching the play of emotions across her face. His fingers ached to cup her face and force her to meet his eyes.

  As if reading his mind, her eyes flicked open. The unexpected determination in them made him reel back, so he could take in her entire face.

  She is angry.

  And she is fierce.

  “Anything,” she whispered back.

  The word was a sledgehammer, and she wielded it against his body. His chest thumped, and lungs spasmed. He felt dizzy and light-headed.

  What is wrong with me?

  With one word she had flipped their positions. Unease gnawed at him, and his instincts, the ones which kept him alive in battle, warned him that he strayed too far into unknown territory.

  “Please,” she whispered. “They’re helpless. I beg you, show them mercy.”

  An echo rose up from his past. A woman sobbing as she clung to the hand of a powerful man. Please, she said, desperation seeping into her voice, they didn’t ask for this. Please, let them go. You can keep me, but let them go.

  Syrek’s stomach lurched. The game he played suddenly lost its appeal. “You friends will be safe.”

  “Do you mean it?” Her face filled with hope.

  “Slavery is unacceptable to any civilized society. Despite our rough lives here, I would like to think Haven qualifies as such.” He stepped further away, trying to distance himself, trying to push away the shame lodged in his throat. “I will allow no harm to befall them.”

  She tightened her jaw. “Promise me.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You doubt me?”

  “If I hear it from your mouth,” she said, “I will not doubt you.”

  “You put too much faith in me.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he couldn’t dissuade her.

  Her jaw tensed. “Promise me.”

  “The universe is a dark and deadly place.” He splayed his fingers against the metal of the door, feeling the coolness of it against his skin. “I cannot promise you that no harm will befall them.”

  “Promise me.” The trembling in her body grew, but she did not break her gaze from his.

  It felt strange to have her trust. He frowned. He had been away from Ennoi society long enough to know promises meant nothing. Not every species kept their word the way the Ennoi did. While business dealings flowed from his mouth without hesitation, this promise felt like it mattered. She was placing a lot of trust in him.

  This vow matters.

  To her.

  Am I even worthy of making this vow?

  He opened his mouth, and weighed his words carefully. “I promise that while the humans are in my care, I will ensure that, to the best of my ability, no harm will befall them.”

  She seemed to deflate. Her breath puffed out, as her eyes dropped to the floor, and she nodded, almost to herself. “Okay,” she muttered. “Okay. I can live with th
at.”

  “I hope you will never have reason to doubt my honor,” he said.

  The words were meant to lighten the mood, but her eyes flicked back to his, and he saw gratitude and warmth in them. “Thank you, Syrek.”

  It was the first time she had spoken his name, and it seemed to send a glow through his limbs. He wanted to hear her say his name again and again. The way her mouth stretched on the first syllable, like a smile, and the slight parting of her lips at the end begged for a kiss.

  “You are welcome,” he drawled. “But I suspect there is something else you want from me as well.”

  A small crease formed between her brows. “No, I don’t think so. That’s all I wanted to ask.”

  He smirked. “No, I think you want more.”

  Her breath hitched, and she straightened against the door. She suddenly seemed aware of the cage his arms formed around her, and of the solid door behind her. “I-I should go now.”

  She made to step forward, but Syrek did not move. He watched the flicker of emotions across her lovely face. First surprise, then irritation. It pleased him that Mara didn’t fear him.

  Maybe she should.

  “I have to go,” Mara said. “I have to get back to work.”

  “In a minute,” he said. “While you are here, you should ask me.”

  A sound of annoyance crossed her lips. “About what? There’s nothing else I need.”

  He leaned forward, until their noses were an inch apart. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move. Didn’t swat him away. Didn’t duck under his arm. “You want to ask me for one, more favor.”

  Teasing her is so much fun.

  She shook her head, her confusion making her face seem sweeter. The silence in the room was broken only by the hum of the lights and the soft sound of her skin against the door.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “You want to ask me to kiss you again.”

  Her tiny gasp of surprise delighted him. He waited for her to deny it, but she didn’t. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and the tip of her tongue ran over her lip. The thrill of knowing he had guessed correctly made every inch of his body ache. One false move, and he would lose control. Of this situation. Of his libido. Of his mind.

  He imagined he felt her shudder through the metal under his hands. She didn’t run. “What?”

  “I know you enjoyed that kiss.” I know I did. “I know you want more. Just ask.”

  “F-fraternization is against the rules,” she whispered back.

  “Mmm, more like a guideline, really.”

  “We shouldn’t be… We shouldn’t have… touched… like that, and we shouldn’t touch now.”

  “You’re right,” he replied, leaning back to put some distance between them. “That’s why I’m not going to touch you.”

  “Oh,” she said. The disappointment filling her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him, as much as he wanted her.

  “I’ll just do this, instead.” He drew closer, keeping his hands on either side of her, and skimmed his lips against her jawline. When he bit down on her earlobe, she gasped.

  “Tell me to stop,” he murmured to her. “And I will.”

  “We shouldn’t…”

  “That’s not stop,” he said, smiling into hair. The strands tickled his face. He swept down her neck, brushing her flushed skin with his lips, his nose and cheeks, feeling her shiver as he went. The heat radiating from his body made hers seem cool by comparison, and he let his flushed cheek rest against the side of her neck.

  “Syrek…”

  He paused, waiting for her to add anything to his name, but she simply drew long, shuddering breathes. “Tell me to stop,” he said, running the tip of his nose against her other ear. “And I will.” He trailed small kisses down her neck, savoring the smell of her, sweet and heady, and listening to her breath.

  “Syrek…”

  His tongue traced the hollow at the base of her neck. Her skin tasted like spiced wine, making him dizzy with the magic of her. With every lick, he grew more desperate. He longed to follow the same path with his hands, to explore every inch of her body, but he kept his palms pressed against the door.

  “Tell me to touch you,” he murmured into her clavicle, “and I will.”

  She simply sighed, and tilted her head, letting him drink in her sweetness.

  He grabbed the zipper of her overalls with his teeth, and slid downward, pulling her overalls open as he descended. His hands dragged across the metal, but when his wrists reached her shoulders, he moved his arms outward, placing them on either side of her arms.

  The zipper was down to her belly button when she ground out his name again. “Syrek… please…”

  He smiled up at her. “Still not a ‘no.’ Still not a ‘touch me.’”

  He slid his tongue up her body, from the soft skin of her belly, up between her breasts, across her heart, where her pulse pounded against his kisses. She squirmed underneath him, and the little gasps escaping her lips ignited him further.

  The curve of her breasts proved too tempting. He pulled aside the fabric with his teeth, revealing her smooth brown skin, and nibbled on the underside of her skin. Her resolve broke first, running her hand across his scalp and to the base of his neck.

  “Syrek.” But this time, her voice held no pleading. She wasn’t asking. She was telling.

  And it made him bolder. He grabbed the fabric of her top with his hand, and tugged it out of the way. He wrapped his tongue around her nipple, craving her, wanting her, needing her. In an instant, he went from teasing her to losing himself in the sensations she provided: her sweet taste, her heady smell, and the silky touch of her skin against his.

  Syrek didn’t feel like he controlled the situation any more. He was a slave to the fire burning through his body, and the flame only craved release.

  The only one who could provide that release whispered his name in frantic urgency. He stood in a single motion, and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up as he slammed her into the door. He kissed her, forgetting her humanness and his Ennoi strength. She shrieked as he crushed her to his chest, and the lust in her eyes fled, replaced by shock.

  “Ow!” The word burst out of her. Her hand, trapped between their bodies, flailed at his chest. “Syrek, stop!”

  He dropped her and brushed a hand across her cheek. “Mara, my love, did I hurt you?”

  She lifted her hand, waved him away. “I-It’s okay. I just… need to catch my breath.”

  Syrek stepped back. “Should I fetch water?”

  “Too fast.” Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, but when she felt him staring, she zipped her overalls closed. “That was… too fast. Too much. Too fast.”

  She was correct. He panted. Every muscle in his body ached, as if he’d fallen off the tallest mountain and hit every boulder on the way back down. “Mara…”

  “Syrek,” she said, straightening. “We can’t do this. This is a big mistake. I’m sorry.”

  He could only stare as she slipped out the door without looking back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MARA

  Even though her lungs burned from running, she kept going, putting distance between herself and Syrek. Mara raced down the corridors of Haven, ignoring the curious looks she received. Her braid whipped against her back, spurring her onward.

  She wanted to return to Syrek’s room to claim more of his kisses, more of his caresses, more of his whispered words. Her body ached for more. More of everything.

  More of him.

  For one brief moment there, she had been ready to give herself to Syrek, without thinking about the consequences. If Syrek was the sort of guy to be interested in one woman at a time, that one woman would already be at his side. Instead, he enforced a rule about fraternization.

  More a guideline, my ass! Mara thought. Do as I say, don’t do as I do.

  It was a hypocrisy she hated in her father, and she would damn well exten
d that hate to any similar behavior from Syrek. She had to. Her heart depended on it. She had to resist him, despite his broad shoulders, his wicked tongue or even the pride in his eyes when he spoke of Haven.

  No, she thought, turning left into a wider hallway, Syrek and I come from different worlds. It absolutely wouldn’t work.

  Mara slowed as she neared the gardens. She glanced through the wide viewing ports, and took in the blurry sights beyond, where workers bent through the fields of fresh produce that would later show up on their plates.

  Giving into Syrek meant losing her independence. Would she be with him because she wanted to be with him, or because Dannica and the others relied on her? The lines blurred when hormones became involved. It was smarter, and safer, to stay away from him.

  He called me his love.

  What happens to Dannica when he gets tired of me?

  Would he keep his promise?

  Some instinct told her that he would. But another, more uneasy part of her remembered the long line of shattered promises her own father had made to the women he claimed to love. To her mother, and the step-mothers who followed her. Pretty words with scant effort behind them. And finally, when Mara had been old enough, the promises her father spoke and broke to her.

  As she watched, the workers in the gardens straightened, stretched out their backs and began filing toward the door. Mara’s tummy growled. The lunch bell chimed, and Mara started. She’d spent a few hours working this morning, but her time with Syrek, and her run after, left her ravenous.

  To her gratification, she found her way back to the galley without getting lost. Over the past few weeks, she had begun to learn the ins and outs of Haven. Maybe she hadn’t learned all of Haven’s secrets, but she was forging her own way through this strange new world.

  In the corner, she spotted Luall, Oyoyai, and some of her crew mates, sitting around a table by the door. When they saw her, they stared at her for a moment. She waved to them, but to her surprise, they ducked their heads back to their conversation.

  Weird, Mara thought. Maybe there’s hot new gossip.

  She joined the line for lunch and grabbed a tray. She eyed out the salad and stew being ladled into bowls ahead of her. The aroma made her mouth water. At first the flavor profiles of the meals had perplexed her palate, but she was starting to recognize meals now, and even had a few favorites, like the breakfast breads. Not quite prawn masala, but delicious in its own way.