The Breaking

by Imogen Keeper

  “Are you always so warm?” She shivered. “I’d have frozen without you last night.”

  “You’d have slept without me last night.”

  “Maybe,” she said with a noncommittal tilt to her head.

  He grazed her cheek with his unshaven jaw.

  “I liked it, though.” Her voice went straight to the base of his spine.

  His arms tightened around her of their own volition.

  They were silent for a long moment before she said, “You’re all bristly in the morning.”

  “And you’re still all blinky,” he whispered in her ear.

  She breathed out an amused sigh and took a long sip of his eeffoc.

  “And pink.” He twirled his finger through a curl of her hair, studying the different tones.

  She shrugged. “I am me.”

  And he loved her for it.

  He couldn’t tell her that, though. She’d probably just feel more gratitude if he did.

  Instead, he rested his chin on top of her head, and together they watched the sun spread its warmth and light across the plains of an alien land.

  27

  I’m just so scared.

  Even of you.

  She tilted her hat back to see him.

  Something was wrong. It hung in the air around Ajax, palpable as a thick fog. And in the way he looked at her. It wasn’t anger. She knew anger. This was different. There was a layer of formality she’d never experienced with him before. A distance. As if she’d failed him.

  He scanned the grassy plain around them, moving with the same fluid, muscled grace as always.

  He’d donned a new white shirt that morning, one that wasn’t bloodstained and tattered. It plastered to his skin. And he wore the silly hat, tied beneath his chin with a big, ridiculous bow of white fabric she’d torn from the dress the birds had destroyed.

  On him, somehow, it didn’t look as silly as it should have. He was so devastatingly beautiful, with that rock-hard, darkly bristled jaw.

  New heat built in her core.

  He’d done things to her body she’d never dreamed of before. Whatever his medical training had entailed, perhaps it had involved a more thorough and inventive analysis of the female body than Utto had gotten.

  Last night had been wonderful. And terrifying. When the memories had crept in, she’d touched him, and his touch had been enough. He’d soothed her. Ajax wasn’t Utto. As different as air and water.

  That, more than anything, had filled her with a single bright hope that her salvation lay within his body. His healing touch had chased away bad memories and hidden fears. Bonding with him would chase away the last breath of Utto from her skin, the last trace of him that invaded her body and lingered in her blood, until there was nothing left but him.

  She’d hoped, repeatedly, every time he’d woken her in the dark, a hand parting her thighs, or cupping her breasts, that he’d Bond with her. She’d wanted it. She’d wanted him. She’d begged for it, sobbed, desperate for him to fill the growing void inside her. The shift had begun sometime in the cold and silent darkness; he’d taken up a place in her chest beside Utto. She could feel them both there, now. Ajax, firm and stoic; Utto, angry and maybe desperate, vibrating like a livewire.

  She’d lost control on a primitive level, pleading for Ajax, as pathetic as a supplicant at the altar of some detached god. He’d steadfastly denied her, refused to take her, used only his tongue and his fingers.

  Her nipples burned against the fabric of her dress, chafed from his tongue. She wanted to tear the dress off now and beg again. She shook her head, trying to clear the hazy rush of lust for him, and the strange frenzy of Utto’s Bond thrashing in her chest.

  Ajax glanced over at her, a question in his eyes.

  She lifted her shoulders, unable to explain the growing frenzy in her blood. Something was different. He frowned but didn’t comment.

  They’d been walking all morning, so long her head swam when they finally approached the bottom of the hill.

  “Let’s stop here for a few moments,” he said. “I want you to know how to use a rezal.”

  “Really?” She blinked away the fog.

  “You feel okay?” He tilted her chin up, studying her eyes, pressing a hand to her forehead.

  She forced herself to forget all about the awkwardness between them, the unspoken words, the fear that he didn’t really want her after all, at least not enough to Bond. “I’m fine.” She swatted his hand away. “Why the rezal?”

  He stepped back, still studying her. “If something happens to me, I don’t want you to be defenseless. No reason you shouldn’t know how to use every weapon available. This is a good spot.”

  He dropped their pack to the ground against a nearby tree and tore off his hat, tossing it to the ground, then scrubbed his hand through damp, sweaty hair. “You use your right hand.” It wasn’t a question. He knew quite well that she was right handed. She’d had it wrapped around his big, hard...

  Another surge of heat blasted her core, making her flinch, and she focused on his muscled forearms as he pulled one of the shiny, black-and-silver weapons from the harness he wore around his waist. All bones and muscles and tendon. The man was a work of art.

  When he glanced up at her, his eyes softened. He’d evidently misread her expression for apprehension rather than desire. “It’s okay.” He gestured her closer. “Come here.”

  She hesitated. She’d never touched a rezal before. Licking her lips, she forced her feet to move over the blue star-shaped flowers and white leaves that carpeted the sandy soil.

  He pointed out the different components. The safety, the charger, the trigger. He shifted it to his left hand and offered it to her.

  She paused, hand in midair. He brought the rezal to her palm.

  The surface was warmer than she’d expected, presumably from contact with his body, or maybe the sun. She didn’t know where to hold it, or what to do with it. Her knees trembled.

  Ajax stepped behind her, keeping his hands loose outside hers. “It’s okay.” His voice was low and gentle. “First rule—only point it at someone if you’re willing to kill them.”

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she nodded.

  “See these two ridges? They’re the sights.” He touched his finger to a small raised fin at the back and another at the front.

  She nodded again.

  He guided her hands higher, so she held the weapon in front of her, arms partially extended. He shifted her grip so her right hand held the weapon and her left hand supported the weight. “Line the front sight up with the back one, and put them right on top of your target.”

  “What’s my target?”

  He breathed out a laugh. “Pick a tree.”

  There weren’t a whole lot. Three silvery purple trees. She chose the one in the center.

  When his lips grazed against her outer ear, her belly hitched. “You’re allowed to breathe.”

  He was right. She’d been holding her breath.

  “I’m going to let go now and step back. Okay?”

  She nodded. Her arms shook. He dropped his hands, and the rezal was a thick, sullen weight without him there helping her support it. Her elbows shook. There was an intensity to the weapon, more a weight than a darkness, that spoke to all inherent potential it carried, the infinite ways it could change the future, the lives it could save, the lives it could take. It was like holding one of the threads of the Fates.

  It took several breaths to stop the tremors, to control her breathing, until the nose of the rezal stopped shaking.

  A few birds twittered. Minutes passed.

  “You can pull the trigger,” Ajax said, voice containing a single note of humor. “It will be loud. Your hands will want to kick up toward the sky. Let your arms take the motion.”

  She shifted her grip, sliding her finger from the barrel to the trigger.

  Deep breaths.

  The little ridges formed a line.

  She tightened her finger.
It was so much harder to squeeze than she’d expected. And he was right—it was loud. Her eyes squeezed shut against the noise, and her hands flew up against the recoil. A blast of light flared at the edge.

  Where had it even hit? It was too fast.

  She checked the rezal, moved her finger out of the way as he’d shown her, so it rested flat against the side, and careful to keep it aimed to the ground, she turned toward where he leaned against a tree a few feet behind her. “Did I hit it?”

  “Hit what?”

  “My tree.”

  He didn’t smile. Not with his mouth anyway, but his eyes got squinty at the corners. He shook his head. “Not yet. Spread your legs a little wider. Lean forward. Arch your back. Try again.”

  He kept her shooting, offering corrections between shots, until the rezal ran out of power and her finger hurt. The sun was high in the sky when they finally stopped, and her belly was empty, but at least her knees no longer shook, and she’d learned to control the recoil, so as soon as the upward momentum stopped, she could lower the weapon again and reclaim her aim with reasonable speed.

  “You did well,” he said.

  “Really?”

  He nodded, and she felt as tall as he. As if she could take over the galaxy, all on her own.

  They ate lunch fast. Their meal was unceremonious and uninspired. Rations from the ship that left her belly full but unsatisfied. The lull after the adrenaline of shooting the rezal reminded her of the insistent heat spiraling roughly through her abdomen.

  Something was different today. Her body pulsed hotly, in tandem with her steps. Some of it might be residual nerves from the power she’d felt holding a weapon she’d only ever seen in the hands of men.

  But this was new. Desperate. Feminine and sore and scorching hot. She shifted uncomfortably.

  She kept having flashbacks of the night before. They hit her like a stab to the belly. She closed her eyes, forcing her legs to keep moving, hissing against pleasure and need that broached painful. And the burning memories of Utto’s flinty eyes and Rennie’s grasping, clammy hands seemed… lesser somehow. As if Ajax had chased some of the darkness away. Instead of their mean glares, she saw only Ajax’s shadowed face as he stroked her breasts, pushed her thighs wide. The growls he made in the back of his throat as he stroked his fist up his cock and spurted serum over her breasts.

  Another burst of desire flared low, and she gasped in agony.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her chest tightened against a blast of Utto across their Bond, and she’d never wanted him gone so badly in her life.

  “I think I need—” she broke off, irritated with her own constant neediness. “I need you.”

  A muscle in his jaw tightened under the sun’s harsh, beating rays.

  Oh, for life back when she needed no one and no one needed her. She dropped her gaze.

  “We need to go another half mile maybe. About ten minutes at the most to get up this hill. See that clearing, up ahead? Those dark trees?”

  She glanced up, pressing a hand against her lower belly, where heat pooled.

  “I can make it.”

  Maybe he could feel her; he certainly seemed able to read her more closely than ever before. His gaze landed on her as she shifted her posture, stumbling when a stab of need coursed wet heat between her thighs. She gasped at the flare of arousal in his turquoise gaze.

  He picked her up and moved with all the unnatural speed of the Tribe into the shade.

  They’d barely made it to the copse of trees and into the filtered shade before she tugged at the ribbons of his hat, twisting in his arms, pressing him back against the smooth silver bark of a tree. Her legs wrapped around his waist, she struggled to get higher, wanting to feel him against her heated sex.

  She wrapped her fingers around him through his thin khaki pants.

  “Shit. Slow down,” he hissed through gritted teeth. She batted at his hands, pushing away from him, struggling out of his arms, until he finally let go. She dropped to her knees before him. In seconds she freed his cock from his pants and closed her lips around it, sucking him so deep she gagged, and he grunted. She only sucked harder.

  He hissed again. She looked up to see him arch his neck against the tree.

  His hands fisted in her hair, drawing her closer until he pressed thickly against the back of her throat. She moaned around him.

  “Gods, you look beautiful when you do that.”

  If she could have smiled, she would have as she stroked her hands up his muscled legs, over the springy hairs that covered them, to the heavy sack that hung between his legs. She raked her fingers over the surface, and his head fell back, the cords of his neck straining, and he fisted her hair tighter, moving her head back and forth, thrusting his hips, fucking her face in a steady rhythm, using her mouth for his pleasure so he could give her what she needed all the faster.

  Even when he was greedy, it was for her. Even in the dominance of the position, his concern was evident. She squeezed a little harder.

  He came fast, thick and long, pulsing down her throat, holding her still by her hair and pumping his hips. It settled her stomach and stilled some of the burn coursing slick between her thighs, but it wasn’t enough.

  Utto thrashed against the Bond, wilder than ever, beside the seething intensity of Ajax’s climax. Two men fought an invisible war inside her chest.

  She pulled away. “It’s not enough,” she growled irritably, her voice hoarse and shaking.

  “What?” He lifted his head slowly. Brows drawing together as his chest rose and fell. He didn’t understand. How could he not feel it?

  “It’s not enough. Something’s wrong.”

  He straightened, closing his pants and peering down at her, studying her eyes. He pressed a hand against her cheek. “How so?”

  She shook her head. “Utto feels stronger in my chest. I can feel him more.”

  “Is he closer?”

  “I don’t think it’s about proximity. I think he’s angrier or scared or something.”

  Ajax frowned. “He can feel you with me? That’d piss him off for sure.”

  “But not like he normally can. It’s almost like, I don’t know, like he’s afraid of something. And I need more from you.” She pointed at the rigid bulge in the front of his pants. “That didn’t fix the problem. You’re in my chest too.” She pressed her hands over her heated face. Embarrassed to the depths of her being, loathing the addiction that ruled her body. She parted her fingers enough to glare up at him through the opening. “I need more serum.”

  He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, lips turning down in a frown. “I gave you too much last night. It must have affected the Bond. That explains why you’re feverish and your pupils are dilated.”

  “You mean it’s shifting to you?”

  He did a head movement that was part nod, part shake. “Maybe. I can feel you in my chest too. I feel your emotions. I thought I was imagining it. It must be a partial Bond.”

  “A partial Bond?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know any more than that. It’s possible to have a connection without a Bonding, but it’s unhealthy.”

  “Good. Then finish it. Right now. I want it.”

  “For a few weeks,” he said, with words so bitter they stung.

  She surged to her feet. “What do you want from me?”

  His brows rose.

  She stepped closer to him. She’d sworn she’d never need anyone like this again, but it didn’t matter. Something had been off with Utto from day one—he’d poisoned and manipulated her, drugged, abused and victimized her.

  Well, no more.

  Never again. She’d ended that along with Rennie. The thought brought a fresh surge of anger. Maybe she’d needed Ajax all along. He wouldn’t hurt her, and like he’d said, if he needed her equally, she wouldn’t be alone.

  She shoved her hand against his chest, breaking the silence, refusing to be pathetic for one moment longer. “I won’t beg you again, A
jax. I swore I wouldn’t beg. Not for anything. Everything he did to me, I never once begged Utto for anything. I begged for you last night. I could hate you for that alone.”

  He didn’t move a muscle.

  “I’ve made it clear what I want,” she said, voice rising. “I thought you wanted me.”

  “I do.” He pushed away from her, moving so fast she nearly fell in the vacuum left in his wake.

  “Then what is it? I’m right here, Ajax.” Had she ever shouted at anyone before in her life? Probably not. It felt good. She shouted again, just because she could. “What do you want? You want me one minute, and the next you say no. I can’t keep up.”

  He rounded on her, muscles tight, head and shoulders above her, a quivering mass of furious man. “I want you.” He stormed closer, eyes furious, motions fast and jerky, breathing hard. A big, hard, angry man, and she would not back down. “All of you,” he snarled, nostrils flaring, body vibrating and enraged.

  She caught herself, foot threatening to retreat. She clenched her fists and instead stepped closer so they were scant inches apart. When she spoke, she kept her voice deadly calm. “I refuse to be afraid of you.”

  He froze, backed up a step, breathing with effort. “You shouldn’t be afraid of me.”

  “Answer me, then! What the hell do you want?”

  “You.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “For a few weeks or a month. You’re asking me to take you now and give you up later.”

  She swallowed. “Do you think it will be easier to let me go if we never Bond at all?”

  His gaze dropped down to his hands. “You saw how Nissa cried, and how sick she got. She nearly died. I swore I’d never let that happen to me, let alone a woman I was lucky enough to Bond with. And that was before I—”

  He scrubbed his hands through his hair, jaw flexing. His shoulders relaxed, and he blew out a breath.

  “She survived. So did Tam. So would we.” She dropped her hand to his shoulder, but he pushed her away. “I do want you, Ajax. Now. Why can’t that be enough?”