The corner of his lip tightened. “I didn’t either. I thought I was doing the right thing, giving you time.”
“I know. I understand now. But back then, I was so embarrassed. And so confused. I thought you didn’t want me.”
“I did. So badly. You have no idea how badly. I got permission from the Admiral of S-6 to ask you formally to Bond with me, but I didn’t want you to be skewed by that kiss.”
Her heart thudded. He’d wanted her all along. She closed her eyes tightly, remembering those early days when she’d lived for him. When every minute of her day after she’d awoken on Sierra-Six, she’d thought of only one thing, one person. Ajax, and his kind eyes. Ajax and his gentle touch. Ajax and his slow smile. Ajax and his perfect, wonderful smile. And while Ajax had refused to kiss her in those days, to give her time to clear her head, time to grow accustomed to life amongst the Tribe, Utto had drugged her so he could get into her head.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
She nodded. “Me too. I should have talked to you first.” She should have done so many things differently. She should have fought for him.
He held her close for a long moment before cursing and looking up at the sky. “We need to get back to the ship. I don’t want to risk getting stuck outside at night.”
He stepped back, and she felt strangely shy after all the revelations as they finished packing up their things, but he seemed brighter somehow, casting a warm smile her way. So much was out in the open now. So many things she should have said long ago.
She couldn’t resist teasing him as she picked up his hat. “Don’t forget this.” She held it out toward him. “Remind me when we get back to find you a new ribbon to tie around it, so it doesn’t blow away.”
The smile faded noticeably from his face.
The fish was delicious. Flakey and salty.
Even better was sitting in the cradle of Ajax’s arms as he leaned against their rusty old ship later that evening. As the sun set, low and golden on the horizon, the air cooled. She was grateful for the warmth of his back and the dancing fire on her face.
It was still too warm inside the ship, from a day spent baking in the sun, but they hoped it would cool down enough to sleep soon.
The last time she’d spent time like this outside was after the offworlders came to her planet and she’d entered a cryo pod to escape. That was before Ajax. Before Utto.
“So much time wasted,” she murmured.
His arms around her tightened. She stretched a hand to stroke his face.
“You mean with Utto. If we’d Bonded instead.” His words, in his deep, husky voice, hit her like a punch in the belly. How different would she be if they’d Bonded immediately? She inhaled sharply against a sudden flash of an image of him moving inside her, filling her, claiming her as his.
He pressed a kiss against her temple. “We’d be back on S-6. I’d be working in my healing bay. You’d smell like flowers, and have the happiest laugh and the brightest eyes.”
At the loss of that stupid, laughing girl, tears burned her eyes. “Do you wish I were still like that?”
The sky had darkened from a pale periwinkle to deep cerulean. Not a cloud in the sky. Stars peeked through, bold already despite the lingering light. “I like you as you are.”
Those were words she’d never heard before. Simple. And more loving than a thousand other declarations.
Ajax pressed a kiss to her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her more closely. “Sing for me.”
She did, as night blackened the sky.
In the distance, a bird answered. A distant cooing hum.
The light waned, and the singing bird was joined by another. They sang their song, and she sang hers.
Wings moved against a darkling sky, small black dots flickering as they came closer.
The birds must have been drawn by the sound of their song.
She stopped singing.
Ajax stiffened.
The birds grew louder. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Circling overhead.
They were almost invisible. Black wings against a star-riddled sky.
“Move. Get inside the ship.”
She made it two steps before the humming song shifted and became sharp caws.
Ajax cursed, his body looming over hers, sheltering her as they moved along the ship’s hull toward the entrance.
He cursed again. Wings flapped against her skin, and Ajax lurched against her. “Birds,” he muttered. “B is for birds.”
25
Close your eyes.
Black feathers slapped her face.
Ajax grunted behind her.
Shrieking caws filled the cooling night air. It was so dark she could barely see. Ajax’s hands closed around her upper arms, propelling her forward.
He cursed again, and the birds screamed louder. Hundreds, probably more, dove at them.
She threw her hands in front of her face. Talons—or were they beaks?—tore into the skin of her forearms.
He lifted her from the ground and tossed her through the hatch of the ship.
Black birds with wingspans the length of her arms crashed against the walls, flapping and squawking. One dove at her, and she dropped low, hiding her head with her arms, searching for something, anything she could use as a shield or a weapon.
He shouted something from the hatch, which he wrestled to close. A bird dodged close. She slapped at it, and it darted away, squawking.
Three more landed on him. He twisted, grabbing one from the air. Red streaks. Blood down the front of his shirt, vivid against the white.
He shouted at her again and pointed away, down the passageway.
She ignored him.
On the wall were a variety of tools. She twisted the locking mechanism and pulled out the first solid object her fingers closed around.
One hit her back, digging into the skin. The pain was bad, but she was accustomed to pain.
Vaguely she registered that Ajax had finally sealed the hatch.
Black wings flew at her face, and she covered her eyes. Her fingers closed around a heavy wrench, longer than her forearm. Ajax shouted again. Massive birds slammed and crashed against the walls.
A bird landed on her shoulder, talons digging deep, beak pecking at her face. Squeezing her eyes shut to protect them, she swung around, roaring, wielding the wrench wildly, striking out with her other hand.
A hand closed around her arm in an iron grip, stilling the motion. She opened her eyes. Ajax had stopped the arc of her wrench only a few inches from connecting with his head. His gaze was calm. No recrimination. Only concern in the depths of his vibrant eyes.
A pathetic whimper left her mouth.
An enormous black bird flopped to the floor with a plop. Dead.
Five or six others littered the floor. Blood was everywhere. Pooling across the floor… just like…
He loosened his crushing grip on her arm. She was breathing too hard. Too fast. She just kept on seeing Rennie’s face. Grinning. Dead on the floor. Grinning. She dropped the wrench from shaking fingers. Slippery with blood that wasn’t hers.
The wrench clattered to the floor, the noise echoing like a beating drum.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, studying her with wary eyes. Blood dripped down his temple. More streaked over his chest. His shirt was torn. Long gashes marred his beautiful, smooth skin.
He possessed rage, just like Utto did, like all men did, and women, too. She knew that well. But from Ajax, somehow she just knew it would never turn against her.
He squatted in front of her, pressing a hand to her head, tilting back her neck to study her face. His turquoise gaze probed hers. He tilted her face to the side, eyeing her cuts and scrapes. Her heart slowed its panicked beats at his contact.
“Are you okay?” She glanced at the sealed hatch of the ship, where the occasional slap or crash came from the birds, still flinging their bodies against the hull, seeking entry.
He turned her away from him,
pushed her hair over her shoulder, and hissed. “You’re shaking.” His hands closed around her upper arms, pulled her to her feet.
She looked at her hands. It was true.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She almost laughed at that. “Me? Look at you. You’re a mess.”
“I’m fine. Come on.”
He led her down the passageway, where they stripped off their clothes in the rusted bathroom of their ship, lit only by the low, lurid green emergency lights that lined the edges.
The bathing chamber in this ancient ship was a far cry from the luxurious one in Utto’s quarters on Romeo-Two, but still, she eyed the all-too-familiar room with trepidation. Nor was it as modern as the one they’d had on Ajax’s ship. This one was… serviceable at best.
The dark water rippled and steamed. Argenti kept the sponge-like stiranella organism for a renewable water supply. The organism absorbed impurities from the water. A familiar joke among the Tribe’s warriors was to say that someone’s stiranella was thriving. The healthier the bathing pool dweller, the dirtier the warrior.
This one was quite healthy. The blackish-green organism hovered in the corner of this pool, large enough to make her nose wrinkle. She didn’t want to linger on who else had bathed in this water.
“What were those things?” she asked, to distract herself, and hopefully ease the tension in Ajax’s shoulders. His jaw was tight, eyes tense.
“This was a resort planet. People came here for sport. But it hasn’t been used in about three hundred years. Another planet, closer by with better weather, was found, and this one was abandoned. Who knows what sort of mutations the animals here have undergone.”
“What do you think they wanted?” She winced as he ran a soft, soapy sponge over the scratches on her arms. The hot water burned.
“If I had to guess, I’d say us.”
“To eat?”
He didn’t answer, just traced stinging soap over the cuts on her back.
She shuddered despite the heat of the bathing pool.
Only when he’d washed her entire body did he finally permit her to minister to his cuts. She tried to be as gentle as he’d been with her, but the birds had made for tough work. They hadn’t just scratched at him as they had her. He’d protected her with his body as they ran for the ship, and the birds had preyed upon him. They’d carved deep welts into his back with their talons, punctured his skin with their beaks, torn at his flesh.
“Do we need to worry about infection?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. The soap is strong. We’ll apply balm that should help us heal faster.” He lifted his shoulder carelessly. “We’ll keep an eye on them.”
It had to hurt, but he didn’t complain. The soap did its job, sizzling along his wounds, stopping the flow of blood.
“What happens now?”
He sat on a ledge in the bathing pool, and she knelt behind him, stroking her fingers through his hair. He tilted his head into her touch. “We need to talk about Utto and what he did… what happened back there.”
Her fingers froze in the pale, thick strands of his hair. “Maybe, but not now.”
“Soon. That drug…” His chest rose with his words, deep voice echoing around the chamber. He took a long breath. “What Rennie did, whatever he did—”
“Please, Ajax. Not tonight.”
He stiffened, and she could actually feel the resistance in him, the desire to force her to face the past.
“I just… after today… it’s been so perfect. Can we just focus on us? On you and me. Here and now.”
His shoulders relaxed, the tension easing. “It will get cold in here at night. We’ve landed in a desert. Cold at night, hot during the day. And we’re too far from a water source. Heating and cooling will draw too much power, even with the solar absorbers working. We shouldn’t risk losing what we need to keep the food fresh.”
“So we’ll keep each other warm.”
He nodded vaguely.
“What else do you know about this planet?”
“Not enough. I should have looked it up.”
“We were a little preoccupied,” she said.
He gave a short, breathy laugh. “Fair enough. What do I know about this planet? Nothing more than what we’ve seen. There’s a hotel at the top of the hill, crumbling. We saw it. With waterfalls. There’s water there. And presumably, some kind of roof to keep the birds out. There may be old communication systems too.”
“So we’ll go there tomorrow?”
He nodded, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, resting her cheek against the broad span of his back. She let her hands drift lower, down his smooth, coiled stomach. He was always hard. Always ready for her. And she never offered him half what he offered her.
She stepped away. Lifted herself from the pool to stand above him.
He looked up at her, eyes rising from her toes, stopping for a moment to rest between her thighs, then higher, his gaze a hot caress, hotter than the steaming water of the pool. The air was already cool around them. It didn’t matter.
“Come,” she said, holding her hand out to him. “I want you.”
“Oh?” A half smile lingered around his lips.
“I do.”
He hopped from the tub in a lithe motion, too fast to see, and loomed above her. Water dripped down his body, pooled on the floor.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“I want to show you…” She swallowed, pulling her eyes from the intensity of his. “What it means to me. Everything that you’ve done to keep me safe.”
His finger pulled at her chin. “You don’t have to show me anything.”
“No.” You ask nothing from me, so I want to give you everything. “That’s the point, Ajax. I want to thank you.”
His eyes narrowed at that, and he dropped his hand, grabbed a couple towels from the corner.
Refusing to meet her eye, he thrust a towel at her. “I don’t want your gratitude.”
“I know that.” She scrubbed her towel over her skin, drying off.
He turned away, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him.
“I want to touch you. For me. I want to touch you because I want you.”
He turned back to her.
Her heart raced. She’d never done anything like this before. Utto had taken whatever he wanted or forced her to give. Ajax... was so different.
She shook her hair behind her back, where it clung to her damp skin, baring her whole body to his gaze. No hiding. Not from him. Not anymore.
He didn’t look, though. His eyes stayed on hers. His brows rose. “What do you want me to do?”
She dropped her gaze to the thick erection that bobbed between them and bit her lip. “I want you...” She pressed her hands against his chest, and the muscles bounced under her palms. Nipples beading in the cold air, she stepped closer, rolling her hips. “To take a step backward.”
His brow furrowed and his lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything. Just took a long, steady step back.
She had a sudden idea. “Close your eyes.”
His jaw ticked a beat as he held her gaze. After a moment, his eyelids drifted shut.
“Take another step.”
He did, arms loose at his sides. A man full of big, hard muscles, closing his eyes and walking backward, blind, into a dark passageway, for no other reason than that she asked. It might be a small thing on the surface, but a little piece of her heart melted. He trusted her. Enough to give himself to her, blinded and vulnerable. Some men didn’t need to hang on to the trappings of power; it came from inside them. Ajax was too strong to have to posture, and he was willing to open himself to her.
She could do the same for him.
“Stop,” she said. And he did. Her eyes burned, and confusing emotions clogged her throat.
She walked around him and took his hand in hers, checking to see that his eyes were indeed still shut. She took his hand and led him down t
he passageway toward the pilot’s seat.
That first time on his ship, before Pilan, he’d put her in the power seat, knelt before her. With his eyes shut, and the silent ship all around, nothing but darkness and dim blue emergency lights, she could do this. She would do this for him.
“Sit,” she said, and his body tensed for a moment before he lowered himself over the seat. The material squeaked beneath his bare skin. His legs fell open. His stomach bunched, and the pale lights highlighted all the crinkly hairs on his forearms, his calves, over the center of his chest, and the thin line down his belly. The long, hard length of him, and the softer part beneath.
His arms drifted to the armrests. He looked lazy and relaxed.
Appearances could be deceiving. She knew him well enough to recognize the fine lines around his lips. He’d never looked more beautiful. Heat coiled low in her belly. It would be so easy to take him inside her body, bind him to her for all time.
A Bond with Ajax would be so different than it had been with Utto. She couldn’t wait to end her Bond with Utto… and it would be so simple. Take Ajax inside of her, transfer her Bond to him. She’d need him, but she couldn’t pretend she’d even mind that. She was already half-addicted to him as it was.
But forever? She’d be beholden to him for the rest of her life. Dependent on him. And if he died, what then? It would hurt far too much. They’d have to break it, and she couldn’t bear the thought of breaking a Bond with Ajax.
His nostrils flared slightly, and his head tilted. What could he hear? Her heart? The blood in her veins? Probably.
She closed her hands around his shoulders, stepped closer to stand between his thighs. He lifted his hands to touch her, and she clucked her tongue. “No, no, no, no. No touching for you. You stay still.”
She tapped his lips with her index finger, and his brows rose higher.
“Just feel,” she whispered into the cold, empty flight deck.
He rested his head against the back of the seat. She trailed her finger down his nose, over his lips, down his firm chin, over the sharp ridge of his Adam’s apple. “You think all the time, Ajax. I see you. Your brain is always working. Analyzing. Evaluating. Stop it.”
The Breaking Page 15