by Eve Langlais
“And do you always do what your mama tells you to do?” Clarabelle mocked.
“My mother only has my best interests at heart.” But she would also be thinking of her own, how his mating with a barbarian would appear. That reminder had him saying, “She will probably try to kill you.”
Belle coughed. “Seriously? And am I allowed to kill her back?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. My sisters might take offense.”
“Sisters? How many do you have?”
“Too many,” he grumbled. Three who’d somehow not succumbed when the plague ripped through their planet decimating the female population.
“If they come after me, I will put them in their place,” she warned.
“Do what you must. I can hardly blame my sykyrah for defending herself.”
She blinked. “Hold on a second. Is your sudden interest in me solely because you want to rebel against your mommy?”
“No.” He leaned down close to whisper by her ear. “I am interested because I think burying myself into you will be like finding nirvana.”
She couldn’t hide the heat flushing her body, and the scent of her… Oh, the scent told him everything he needed to know.
He kept walking, and it took her a moment to join him, silent and glancing at him. As they stood before his home, the grandness of it looming overhead, she tilted her head back. “This is where you live?”
“Yes.
“Jeezus, it’s a freaking castle.”
Having researched her kind, he understood why she would name it so. It sprawled with turrets and crenellations, but it was much more delicate than the blocky examples on Earth.
The door opened at their approach. Someone must have been watching.
He knew better than to try and stand in front of Belle, blocking any immediate danger. For one, she wouldn’t appreciate it, and for another, his mother wouldn’t respect Belle if she thought her too weak to defend herself.
Stepping over the threshold, she appeared interested in the architecture, which must have irritated his mother to no end, given she stood at the top of the staircase, hand on the hilt of her blade. Did Belle do so on purpose to not notice her? Or was she truly obliv—
Belle barely moved, and yet it was enough for the thrown dagger to sail harmlessly past. Despite the attack, she didn’t look over her shoulder but rather pointed to the large piece of art hanging on the wall. “Pretty.”
“A local artist painted it with the blood of the animals he caught in that very valley pictured.” The reds were still vivid after all this time, and the use of the darker ochre from the wildlife provided texture and contrast.
“And the green?”
“Came from the flesh-based plants. I should mention it’s not recommended you sleep in that valley at night unless you don’t mind waking up as a pile of bones.”
“I doubt I’ll be here long enough to go exploring.” She finally whirled but still ignored his mother, who glared.
“What is this?” his mother growled.
“Mother. How nice of you to be here.” He smiled in the face of her laser glare.
“Of course, I’m here. I live here. Who is this?” No politeness in the barked query.
“My sykyrah,” he declared and got to see his mother’s nostrils flaring.
“But she’s alien!” his mother huffed.
“That’s what I said.” Finally, Belle chose to acknowledge his mother’s presence. “Trust me, I’m not keen on it either. Maybe you can talk some sense into him because he’s all like, fate this, goddess that, and I’m like, dude, you and I”—she swirled a finger back and forth between them— “are from two different worlds.”
“Very different,” his mother stated, coming down the stairs. “What are you?”
“Human. And before you ask, no tail. No snake at all in my lineage.”
“You appear weak.”
“And your aim is shit,” Belle said with a shrug.
“How dare you—”
His mother blinked as the knife soared too fast for either of them to move, slicing past her face, a single lock of hair drifting down to feather the floor.
“Let me know if you’d like lessons.” Belle turned and strode off, peering into doorways, disappearing into the one for the food preparation area.
“She’s rude,” his mother huffed.
“Very.”
“Talented with a knife, though.”
The praise surprised him. “She was raised by Zonians.”
“Really? How interesting,” she mused aloud. “When is the bonding occurring?”
The rapid change had him blinking and looking for a reply. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll need a few days, first to contact your sisters that they might return in time and also to prepare the party.”
“Don’t start planning yet. The bond might not happen.”
“Excuse me? What did you say?” His mother turned to eye him, and he did his best not to fidget.
“Belle hasn’t agreed yet.”
“She is your sykyrah.”
“Yes, but—”
“There is no but. It is fate.”
“She doesn’t believe in fate.”
His mother was silent a moment then shook her head. “She can’t escape it.”
“Is that why you’re not arguing about the fact she’s not from our world?”
“Why would I argue? She’s strong. And goddess chosen. Can you imagine the children you will have?”
His mother seemed too agreeable. Was she so desperate for him to settle down she’d truly accept Belle as his mate?
Then again, he’d come around quick enough to the idea. Seeing her again—smelling her and hearing her—he couldn’t wait for her to become his bride.
Nine
Clarabelle wouldn’t have admitted it aloud, but Thyos had a really nice castle. House. Whatever he wanted to call it. It rocked with its nice things and big rooms. It had more than enough windows to let in sunshine with views of a green garden that she wanted to stroll. She felt so much at home that she even wondered for a moment if maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad.
Sure, his mother had tried to kill her, but she understood that kind of aggression after being with the Zonians for a few years.
She had a prickling awareness she wasn’t alone.
“You like the garden?” Thyos’s voice came from behind her.
She ran her fingers over the soft leaves of a flowering plant. “It’s beautiful.”
“If there is a particular color you’d like to see, you just have to inform me, and I can have it ordered for planting.”
“Isn’t this your mother’s domain?”
“My mother thinks it is a waste of time.” He swept his hand. “She thinks I am odd for bringing home different clippings and making them grow.”
The admission startled. “Wait, this is your garden?” She eyed him, this big warrior man who admitted to liking flowers.
“Growing plants is my hobby when I’m not doing other stuff.”
“I don’t have a hobby. Not anymore.” On Earth, makeup, boys, and meeting up at the local fast food joint were her thing. The Zonians only believed in work. No play.
“In our society, it is recommended to have a pastime that is calming. Some choose to follow the culinary arts, others crafting or painting.”
“And you grow flowers.” She traced the delicate pink edge of a bloom that shivered. The incongruity of it had her whirling to face him. It was strange how she no longer saw his bronze skin as so different. Rather more exotic, especially against the lush backdrop.
What she liked less was the tingles she felt. Arousal for him, and after she’d said no sex.
“I am capable of many things.” He purred the words, and she shivered.
To her surprise, they spent the day together as he performed his job as leader. He was respected by his people, who eyed her askance but said nothing.
He proved himself that day to be not only possessed of a green thumb but
handy with tools as he helped with some repairs. Smart as he dealt with folks needing his input on supplies and the protection of what he called his tribe.
That evening she said, “People were eyeballing me.”
“They’re curious.”
“Because I’m different.”
“Yes.” He didn’t say anything, so she was forced to.
“But in many respects, we’re not.”
She eyed the remnants of the food on her plate. She didn’t recognize it, but it tasted delicious. Of course, she didn’t eat the plate his mother handed her. Rather she waited for Thyos to take a bite of his then reached over and swapped their dishes. When his mother didn’t protest as he kept eating, she figured she was safe from poison. For now.
His mother said nothing during dinner, but she did stare a lot at Ishtara, who’d arrived with her usual stomping grace just as they were sitting down.
Ish wasn’t one to let a foul-tempered mother bother her. “You overcooked the meat,” Ish declared, wrinkling her beak. Given Zonians liked it raw for the most part, any kind of heat applied to it was too much.
“I agree,” said Thyos, smirking in his mother’s direction.
Which led to said woman standing and declaring, “Are you a barbarian who has no idea how food should be prepared?”
“Perhaps you should show me,” Ishtara replied.
The next thing Clarabelle knew, Ish had joined Thyansa in the kitchen for an exchange of culinary techniques, leaving Clarabelle alone with Thyos.
Which shouldn’t have mattered. She’d been with him all day, though mostly in the company of others. But there was something different about this, with the sunset, dim lighting, and her belly full.
When he rose and said, “Shall we go sit somewhere more comfortable?” she agreed and prepared herself to foil his next move. Because surely seduction would come next.
Instead, he grabbed a tablet from a low-slung table, indicated she could grab the other, and ignored her to read.
Or so she assumed, given when she slid her finger across the tablet screen, she was shown covers and titles that changed from gibberish to English when she pressed on one.
A book. She hadn’t read one since her abduction from Earth.
Next thing she knew, she was leaning against the arm of the divan, feet up on the cushions, toes pressing on his thigh. It was the most relaxing thing she’d done in ages.
When he declared, “Bedtime,” she only stirred slowly.
Was this when it would finally happen? The day but a sham for what he’d try next?
He led her up the stairs and pointed to a door. “Those are your quarters. See you in the morning.”
He did nothing else. Didn’t try to kiss her. Or ask her to join him. He simply went into the room across the hall and closed the door.
She stood, staring for a moment at the closed door. Waiting.
Annoyed with herself.
Annoyed with him.
Which might be why, when she wakened a while later after spending some time tossing and turning and heard the whispered, “I can break the sykyrah bond,” she overreacted.
Ten
It was only a squeak of sound, and yet Thyos woke instantly. Then paused to listen. Nothing marred the deep silence of night, and yet unease gnawed at him. It took a moment to discern why.
Belle!
He didn’t pause to think, or dress. He crossed the hall and threw open the door to Belle’s room. It remained mostly in shadow, but the hall light shone inside enough for him to see Belle sitting atop his sister Thyara, holding a knife at her throat.
Curse his meddling family. He should have known they’d made things too easy thus far. Still, to attack his sykyrah while she slept… He was almost tempted to leave his sister to her fate. But then he recalled how when she was a child she always held up chubby arms for him to lift her.
It caused him to utter a resigned, “Don’t kill her.”
His intended growled. “Give me a good reason why.”
“Because she’s my sister.”
“She’s in my room.”
“Which is rude. I agree,” he soothed softly. Inside, he silently raged. He’d thought his mother would be the worst hurdle, and yet his guilty sister was the one on the floor, intending what exactly? Murder?
“I just wanted to talk to her,” Thyara groused. “She attacked me.”
“You’re lucky that’s all she did. What were you thinking?”
“Can’t you guess? She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you,” Belle snapped.
“The goddess wouldn’t shame our family by mixing it with the blood of an outsider,” Thyara insisted.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I have spoken to Karma, and she was rather insistent that my sykyrah wouldn’t come from our world or even our star system.”
“You guys and your stupid goddess.” Belle shoved off of Thyara to her feet, but she didn’t sheathe her knife.
“Do not blaspheme the goddess!” Thyara sounded most shocked.
“Your goddess can—”
He ushered his sister out before Belle could finish the insult then shut the door and leaned on it. “My apologies your rest was interrupted.”
“It’s like being at home. The Zonians have this thing about making sure we can act the moment we’re wakened so they drill us all the time for preparation.” For some reason she sounded weary as she said it.
A few things occurred to him in that moment. The first and foremost being that the main reason she wanted to find a human settlement wasn’t just for the species factor but because she wanted a life that was more than just being constantly ready for battle. It would be hard to convince her that the life in his tribe would be calm most of the time, given that, since her arrival, two of his family members had attacked her.
“Our village is safe.” For now, at any rate. There was no honor in attacking a failing tribe.
“From outsiders, maybe, but apparently it’s the inhabitants I have to watch for.”
“I am sorry for my sister’s actions.”
“Are you?” Belle finally put her knife away, but what he liked less was she went for the pile of clothes on the chair and began to dress. He wouldn’t have minded her remaining a moment longer in the slim fitting shorts and cropped top that outlined her lean physique.
“Do not confuse her feelings with mine.”
“She wants me gone.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m not about to live somewhere I have to watch my back all the time.”
“If you became my sykyrah, they wouldn’t dare harm you.”
Clarabelle snorted. “I’m not worried about me. But if you’re attached to them, it could get dicey.” She slid on her boots.
“Are you going for a walk?”
“You might say. Listen, this isn’t going to work. Might as well face it now. We couldn’t last one day together, let alone a lifetime.”
“You said you’d give me eight days.”
“You might not have any family left by the end of it,” was her ominous proclamation. “Best for us both if I leave.”
Leave? She couldn’t go. Not yet. He had to do something. “What if you didn’t have to deal with my family?”
“Going to murder them yourself?” was her sardonic reply.
“More like going to suggest we escape them for a bit. How do you feel about camping in the wild?”
Eleven
What had possessed her to say yes? Clarabelle wasn’t a person who enjoyed shitting in the woods or sleeping on the ground, yet the thought of being alone with Thyos enticed.
It shouldn’t have.
She’d been ready to leave. Being constantly on her guard didn’t appeal. Screw seven more days of vigilance. Yet despite all the reasons to go, she found herself riding a hover bike of some kind out into the wilderness. The bike made her think of the ones used in that Star Wars movie she’d watched as a kid. Had George Lucas been to outer space? Because there was an
uncanny resemblance.
She appreciated the fact Thyos didn’t expect her to ride bitch. She got her own bike, and once she figured out the controls, she had a blast zooming through the trees, doing hover wheelies and zigzags. It helped that the vehicle wouldn’t let her crash. Some kind of safety feature ensuring she never got too close to any trunks or branches.
She couldn’t have said how far they travelled, only that it was fun. When they finally stopped, she was smiling. And dear Lord, he smiled back.
Once more she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. He’d worn only a harness over his chest and a short kilt for the ride, meaning he had plenty of his body on display. She’d seen even more of it when he’d barged into her room, ready to be her hero.
Kind of hot, especially given he’d been dressed in a pair of loose shorts and nothing else. She got to see those shorts again once they’d parked and he stripped down to dive into a lake, the water sparkling in the sun.
When he emerged from the water, hair slicked back, he showed white teeth as he said, “Aren’t you coming in?”
The water tempted, but she could already see it was deep. It went from rocky lip to bottomless.
“No thanks.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t swim.” She hated to admit it and waited for the mockery.
Instead, he said, “Let me show you how.”
Her first impulse was to say no. After all, she’d refused more than a few offers of teaching by her friends and the Zonians. Pride and even a bit of fear had held her back.
Not today. Call her possessed, or she was just in the mood, she stripped, her cheeks hot under the avidness of his gaze. Did he like what he saw when she removed everything but her undershorts and cropped tight tank top that acted as a bralette? She could only imagine what the glow in his eyes meant.
Not yellow, she realized, but golden and warm. The fact they were shining should have repulsed her. Instead she felt more of that delicious heat between her legs.
It might have been a while since those teenage hormones had her wet all the time, but she remembered the feeling. The panted, fumbling pleasure in the back seat of Ryan’s car. He’d been two years older than her, driving and so hot.