Zin’nia. So that was her name.
I stare down at the dry-eyed hu’man. Something inside of me wishes to pick him up by his thin neck and snap it. My dislike grows stronger by the second. But I do not wish to continue this interaction longer than is necessary. I give M’Rir a nod consenting to the hu’man’s request.
Once M’Rir directs the hu’man where to receive his extra rations, I turn to leave, relieved to have that part over. The translator falls behind me as I head back to the ship.
“Xar, he took the news rather well. It could have been much worse. The parents of the other hu’man female who tried to run wept greatly and it became necessary to summon their people to remove them from the landing plank. But the Leader Dan seemed more inconvenienced that anything else.”
Inconvenienced. That word makes me want to turn back around and give in to my earlier wish to snap the young leader’s neck. But the Breeding Ceremony is over, and I am once again the Xar, I remind myself with a glance toward the body armor I redonned after returning to my quarters.
I must act accordingly. I nod in seeming agreement, giving none of my inner ire away.
“About the other female,” M’Rir continues, still following close behind, “is it true?”
“Is what true?” I ask with a hard set of my ridges. “There is much to be done before we land in Xalthuria, and I have no time for riddles.”
“There are rumors that the Kel has decided to take one of the hu’mans back with him…to breed.”
I halt and turn to stare down at the green translator. “Are you trying to engage me, the Xar, in gossip about our Kel?”
Feh M’Rir’s ridges raise in alarm. “Of course not, Xar T’Kan. I was merely repeating what I had heard. I wished no offense to you or our Kel. Please forgive my lapse of judgement. It won’t happen again.”
His thin body quivers as he touches his ridges, not quite making eye contact. Like my uncle and many of the other aliens engaged in intelligence work, he was not warrior trained, and possesses a slender build.
Similar to that of the hu’man female I was duty bound to punish. But without the hips and the mammary glands…
The memory of the way her breasts had hung when I came around to the other side of the cross hits me hard. Round and trembling with dark nipples, so engorged, they looked like pebbles.
Would they be hard to the touch? I wanted to know.
And oh how tempting it had been to forget my original intent, when her eyes fell to my spent diijo and she released another spray of that intoxicating scent. It appeared to be emanating from her breeding slit. Like an invitation.
An invitation I couldn’t accept. At least not yet….
I reminded myself of my duty. And I’d turned from the sight of her upon the punishment cross, so that I wouldn’t once again find myself inside of her, rutting her like an animal, mindless and out of control.
Duty…
“See that it does not,” I say to the green translator, bringing myself back to the present.
M’Rir scurries off, and I head toward the observation deck.
But as the elevator ferries me to the top of the ship, images from the previous night once again assail my mind. The dark-skinned female’s eyes when I pulled the whip out. How they had looked at me with complete terror. How they made water as she shook her head back and forth.
“Observation Deck,” the elevator clicks, once again tearing me from thoughts of the onyx female.
Resetting my ridges, I step onto the main deck and start issuing orders.
I did not lie to the translator about there being much to do before we landed. Many of the males who participated in the ceremony, fucked themselves past the point of dehydration. The warriors in particular would need to be attended to, so that they could resume their duties in two days’ time. My Kel also bid me to oversee the transfer of his unconscious captive to a medical unit for genetic counseling and repair.
“I want her fixed and readied for my breeding as soon as possible,” he had commanded.
When we get close enough to the planet for the holo system to come back online, it is necessary to hail my uncle before he hears the news of my failed breeding from someone else. I do not abide his emissaries among my ranks, but I have a feeling his fellow green intellect Feh M’Rir will have no reservations about relaying everything he has observed on this trip.
“Is it true our Kel has taken a hu’man to breed?” he answers my holo hail as if to confirm my suspicions.
I steadily refuse to relay any information about our Kel, even to my uncle. But I must admit to feeling relieved my friend’s unorthodox actions have drawn my uncle’s attention away from my actions.
He only clicks a single disapproval about me wasting my entire breeding time on the punishment of a single female. “You will go next year and hopefully will not be distracted by our Kel’s digression next time. And I suspect with this taking of a hu’man female, next time may come sooner than later.”
I suspect my uncle is up to something. But instead of answering, I touch my ridges and vow I will do my utmost duty to secure an heir for the Line Neixal.
After that holo is done, I hail F’Syn, my second-in-command who has been standing in for me while I undertook my breeding trip. There is much to discuss about my time away and the additional two days off given to all Breeding Ceremony males.
“So you will not return tomorrow?” the purple commanding officer asks, with a surprised hiss.
I admit I have lost the ability to take time off well since the end of The Three Generation War. This will be the first time I do not return to work with only the require bare minimum of time away. It is likely F’Syn has not prepared a training regimen for the next two days, he was so certain I would return on the morrow.
The screams of the onyx female ring in my ears as I answer, “No, I have decided to spend the recommended amount of restorative time at my cabin.”
F’Syn’s ridges ripple with confusion, but he is too well-trained to question me further. As a reward for his restraint, I spend the rest of the trip running through my preferred Readiness Drills for planetary defense. With the Three Generation War over, it is unlikely the Kaidorians will ever find our planet, much less attack us, but I would rather my troops remain over prepared than under.
After landing in the palace field, I oversee the offloading of the hu’man female Kel D’Rek has taken from the planet. She is still in her medical repair unit and according to the readout now undergoing gene and cell level corrections for a degenerative eye condition.
“Our Kel would also like her to be equipped with a translation chip as soon as her medical repairs are done,” I tell the medic attending her unit.
“Of course, Xar,” he answers, swiping a hand over his ridges before setting the repair unit to float mode and charting a course toward our Kel’s suite in the royal palace.
“Xar T’Kan,” one of my officers approaches me soon after the medic disappears into the palace with the Kel’s prize. “Your trunk has been offloaded to your flyer.”
“Thank you.”
Duty done; I head to the long-distance flyer I’d ordered with my databoard as soon as I’d returned to my quarters after finishing with her punishment. Yet, my stomach continues to twist with memories of the onyx female, even as I set the coordinates to my private cabin and fly away from the city where the mansion I share with my uncle and his second marriage daughter, A’Ry, resides.
Only when I land in the cleared field beside my cabin does some of my unease drain way.
The cabin rests on the mountain I inherited shortly after my mother’s death from the Extinction Virus. Nestled among a thick forest of trees, there is much hunting to be had. And though this area is much colder than the always warm royal city, the tradeoff of no one for great distances to bother me is well worth the drop-in temperature.
I climb out of the flyer, heart lifting at the sight of the two-room cabin I built with my own hands. There’s a reason I come
her when forced to take leave. Out here, I am not the general of our planet’s military force or the last in line of a prominent house because of my failure to save my cousin from dying on a Kaidorian’s horn.
Out here I am simply T’Kan, with no responsibility, or ties to duty. And this is why I much prefer to spend time at my little mountain cabin.
I pull the trunk out of the long backseat of my flyer and carry it inside of my sanctuary.
The generator fires up as soon as I enter, and I’m greeted by the clicks and hisses of the appliances I’ve acquired over the solars. The overhead lights also switch on, illuminating the cabin’s bare-minimum furniture. A table with two chairs and a large sleeping mat lined up against the back wall. Not much, but enough for my purposes.
Setting the trunk down close to the sleeping mat, I take a deep breath and open it to ensure its contents remain unharmed.
Curled into a ball, knees pulled to her chest, Zin’nia remains unconscious, her chest moving up and down thanks to the discreet holes I drilled into the trunk’s sides last eve. Still, I touch the side of her neck to reassure myself my precious treasure is still breathing.
To my relief, I find her pulse steady and strong. I lift her out of the box and place her upon my sleeping mat.
Then I kneel in front of her. Trying to reconcile her presence here in my sanctuary. Trying to fathom what I have done.
This onyx hu’man has awakened something in me that I had long thought was dead. And she may be my ruin.
But for now she is mine.
Mine to steal.
Mine to breed.
Mine to keep.
Mine.
Chapter Nine
T’Kan
I am the Xar of a great army. High-level strategizing is essentially what I do. I should be thinking of ways to get myself under control, and also figuring out how to resolve the situation I have created without further endangering our accord with the New Terrhans. After all, the deal between our two races is the only thing standing between us and extinction.
I should be making a plan. Any plan at all.
Yet hours have passed since I brought Zin’nia to my private sanctuary, but I remain in the same place. Watching her. With my diijo at full rise.
And the only plan pulsing inside my head has a mere two parts:
Keep her
Get back inside of her.
I have never hyper-focused on a female like this, but even when I try to pull my eyes away, to plan the next steps to save my career and fulfill my duty to my family lines, they come immediately back to her.
She stirs, assuring me she has suffered no ill side effects from the sleep disc and that she will awaken soon.
By the stars she is beautiful.
I once again make great study of the body I’ve already committed to memory. She is perfect to me, from the curve of her onyx breasts capped with even darker peaks, to the rounded hips so ideal for carrying a babe. My babe.
I drop my gaze to her oddly twisted leg, a wound easily fixed on Xalthuria but apparently not so on New Terrhan. Even the misshapen limb does not distract from her perfection. Scars are marks of honor to warriors like myself and often go without repair.
In fact, I considered it an act of penance, when instead of keeping my many Kaidorian gouge scars, I visited a cosmetic repair unit as soon as I returned planet side from the Last Battle. I did not deserve the honor of those scars after my failure to save the cousin I had been raised beside like a brother.
But now I run my fingers along her leg, unable to keep myself from touching her scar.
My exploration does not stop there. I place my palm against her flat belly before continuing my ascent to her breasts, cupping one in my palm. It is even softer than I predicted it would be and settles in my palm like it was made to be there. Careful not to scratch her with my talons, I rub her nipple with the pad of my thumb and watch in fascination as it comes to life beneath my touch, puckering into a tight bud.
My diijo stiffens even further at the sight, creating a painful ache. Still, I do the same to her other nipple.
A soft moan escapes her lips, and I yank my hand away. Surprised but hopeful that she will soon awake, so that I might execute part two of my very short-term plan. Get inside of her.
And to think, I’d paid such scarce attention to the talk amongst my warriors about the sweet hot between the hu’man females’ legs. Now I understand all too well.
Memories from the previous eve assail me… the wet hot feel of her wrapped around my diijo… the intoxicating scent that had emanated from her breeding slit after I pulled out. Making me want to taste and fuck and keep her well beyond the allotted three hours.
Yes, now I fully comprehend the meaning of sweet hot, and that understanding makes me once again reach out.
This time I touch her plump lips. They are also remarkably soft. Her mouth falls open with another moan, and her little round tongue darts out to lick the pad of my thumb. At the same time her hips undulate upward, and suddenly the same intoxicating scent from the punishment cross fills the air.
Essh! The smell of her sweet hot is more than I can bear and my mouth waters with the desire to taste her there. But just as I nearly give into the temptation to push her thighs apart and bury my head between them, she starts to move.
I jerk my hand away, but stay where I am, watching as she stretches her arms over her head and releases a yawn. My diijo is harder than I can ever remember, even before the Last Battle.
My gaze stays trained on her every movement as she slowly looks around, including the way the top of her ridgeless nose crinkles when she realizes she is no longer in whichever one of the primitive red clay houses she called home on New Terrhan.
She is confused, but I cannot bring myself to say anything to her. It feels like my tongue is glued to the top of my mouth as I watch her ease herself on her elbows and continue to take in her surroundings. Until finally it happens.
Our gazes collide.
A shocked beat.
Then she releases an ear-splitting scream.
Lunging to my feet, I hover over her, my hands extended. “I mean you no harm hu’man.”
But, of course, she cannot understand my words.
She shakes her head and scoots away from me, holding up her hands as if I am a monster she wishes to ward off. Then, perhaps realizing how pathetic such a defense would be against someone so much larger than she, she pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, spilling throatbox words as she shakes her head.
I want this female badly. But I must approach her carefully, I realize. Ease her mind in some way to let her know I am not a threat—despite stealing her from her planet for reasons I cannot explain, even to myself.
I briefly wonder at the possibility of having contracted a virus of some kind. Xalthurians on the whole are supremely logical, especially in comparison to savage races like the Kaidorians and irrational ones like the hu’mans. There were in our history, however, a few diseases and viruses known to cause mind rot. Perhaps this frantic need to possess her could be taken away with the proper medication.
“Wayrami? Wyydidyoobringmeeheer?” the female demands, pulling me back from my thoughts of mind rot.
I hold my hands out in front of me I open and close them several times to show her I am without a weapon. I am hoping this is a universal sign for peace.
Perhaps I am right. She abruptly stops speaking and shaking her head. But she still regards me with mistrustful eyes. And she is trembling. Fear or cold?
Just in case, I hold up a finger and head to my launder wall unit to retrieve the garment I covertly picked up when it was stripped off her friend before she was put in the medical repair unit. It is heavy and rougher than anything a Xalthurian female would wear, but at least it is now clean. However, Zin’nia only looks blankly at me when I hand her the serviceable dress.
I kneel, bringing myself to her level and place the outfit at her feet. Then I stand and turn my back, hoping
she will understand my meaning.
She does.
I hear movement and the rustling of cloth. And, after counting several beats I turn back around to see that she is now dressed but in the same position she was in before.
Once again I make the open hand symbol for peace and carefully sit in front of her. She flinches, but at least the trembling has stopped.
She stares up at me questioningly, her dark eyes like mesmerizing pools. And my resistance is once again broken. I reach out and graze her cheek with the back of my hand, giving in to the temptation to touch her soft dark skin.
She pushes my hand away, but I reach for her again. This time placing my hand on her shoulder.
“Zin’nia.” I pronounce her name carefully, using my throat instead of clicks.
A soft gasp escapes her lips and her forehead crinkles. Right before her lips curl into a smile.
A smile for me. It has become dark outside since we arrived, but it feels as if the sun shines inside my cabin.
“Zin’nia,” I repeat, twisting my lips into an answering grin.
My smile muscles are tense from disuse. It has been a long time since I have had anything that gave me joy. But this onyx beauty has managed to produce this feeling within me with her response to hearing her name fall from my lips.
And my smile seems to reassure her. She still eyes me with caution, but she does not push my hand away.
I wish to stay like this. Touching her. But she has been out for some time now. “You must be hungry,” I say.
I pretend to eat some invisible food and point to her. She cocks her head to the side and squints. So I point to my mouth and then rub my belly.
Her eyes widen as she bobs her head up and down, seeming to understand my rudimentary sign language.
“I will be back,” I explain, nodding to the food replicator then gesturing to the spot I’m standing on. I then point to the small facilities room. “You may evacuate your waters there.”
She looks toward the toilet visible through the room’s open door and nods eagerly.
However, instead of hopping to her feet as I did, she turns over and pushes herself up to one knee.
His To Steal Page 4