by Lisa Lace
If we don’t get moving soon, it will only be a matter of time until we’re caught. The system encompasses many, many planets in the habitable zone, which is very wide, because of the three suns in their intersecting orbits. Add in centuries of terraforming, and there are dozens of planets and moons that can host life in the Centauran system.
I just hope whoever lives on this planet has a really fast spacecraft lying around.
That hope is quickly dying. King Ursen is not a patient man. If we’re late, he could refuse to pay us, or he might kill us. Killing us seems more likely.
And what if he punishes Emily? I can’t bear the thought, so I grimly soldier on, carrying the stubborn human in my arms.
When we finally reach the jungle, it’s a relief. The air changes almost immediately from dry heat to humidity and moisture, making my skin stick to my shirt.
Emily begins to stir awake and whispers several words under her breath. I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or dreaming. I watch her for a second, lost in her beauty. Her black hair lays over her face. I push back a few strands away from her mouth.
Her head turns slightly at my touch. I hold my breath; I really don’t want to wake her up.
I catch up with Mor, who is eager to escape the desert. The wide expanse with no cover leaves us too exposed for attacks.
The sand has slowly turned into wet earth rich in nutrients, but the foliage here offers no clear-cut path.
Mor whips out his knife and slashes through the brush. Vines and branches snap away at his strike. The trees’ massive height dwarfs Mor, and the dense coverage from the leaves is heavy enough to block out most of the moonlight as we delve deeper. The sound of creatures moving through the night fills the dense air with a strange cacophony.
None of the noises are familiar to me. They only add to the eeriness of the foreign planet. Truly, we are all aliens here.
“This might be a good planet for us to hide out on after we drop Emily off at Omicron. Baroma will be closing in on us,” I say.
Mor grunts in agreement, keeping his focus on clearing a trail.
My eyes adjust to the darkness. Mor removes his hyde jacket and ties it around his waist. His exposed arms and chest are covered in perspiration, just like mine. The mugginess of the air is almost suffocating. We’ve been walking for ten hours now.
“We should rest for the night,” I say. Usually, I would continue our trek, as would Mor. We have traveled longer distances before, but our bodies suffered a lot in the crash. As a Baromenian, I do possess healing powers, but it takes an exorbitant amount of energy—especially for healing someone else. I used too much today, and without sleep, I could endure permanent damage.
I stop at an uprooted tree in a natural clearing. The giant plants twist and turn in the ground, making a natural shelter. Enough moonlight shines through the leaves above us to let us see without a fire.
“Are you sure?” Mor confirms.
I nod and gently set Emily down onto the massive root structure.
I stare at her unconscious face. She must be dreaming. I have the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to feel her velvety skin. She looks at peace, and I smile at her twitching mouth. A strange feeling of protectiveness settles in me.
Her hazel eyes sluggishly open. They grow wide with surprise and then constrict in suspicion when they fall on me. She sits up, shaking her head. “Where have you taken me?”
“Um, to this nice jungle.” I throw my arm back and watch as she takes in the exotic sight of dense trees and colorful plants.
“Are we on a different planet?”
“Nope, same one.”
She stops, and her eyes meet mine. “Why are you so close to me?”
I chew on my cheek; I hadn’t realized I’d allowed myself to be so physically close. I furrow my brow and shrug, then move backward. “Are you done interrogating me?”
“For now.”
She tosses a handful of her hair from her face, sending a ripple of her sweet scent into my nose.
My body tightens when it hits me. Pure, animalistic lust rushes through my veins. Nothing has ever smelled more delicious. My cock stiffens. She’s torturing me, and she doesn’t even know it. I can’t let her know it.
I stand up and walk away from her, to the middle of the small clearing. I begin to collect dry branches from the trees and ground.
Mor sits on a rock, examining his wounds from the crash. Omicronians don’t heal like Baromenians, but it takes a lot more to hurt the sturdy beings. Their skin is the only armor they need.
I lay the branches out in a pyramid and snap. A small blue flame ignites on the tip of my fingers, and I light the sticks. The fire glows red, then bursts into orange flames, tall shadows flickering against the wide tree trunks.
“How did you do that?” Emily asks.
I look up at her and snap my fingers again, producing a flame. “You can’t do this?”
She shakes her head no.
“Don’t worry. Mor can’t either.”
I hear him let out a low grumble.
“Baromenians have a million little tricks up their sleeves.”
Emily presses her lips together and thinks about something. “Don’t the Baromenians run this galaxy or something?” she asks.
I look at Mor, and we share the expression of surprise.
“How did you know that?” I say.
She glares at me. “When I was at TerraMates, I had a lot of time to read. They treated me well.”
Unlike you, the accusation hangs in the air. I feel stupid—and then terrible. She might actually hate me.
I continue to speak. “Well, you’re right. Baroma runs this galaxy, unfortunately.”
“But aren’t you from there? And you aren’t happy about it?”
I take a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”
I watch her in the glow of the fire. She folds her arms over her breasts and leans forward. I wonder what she’s thinking. She’s stopped the violent outbursts. Has she given up already and accepted her fate as King Ursen’s bride?
That would be no fun. I wouldn’t be able to flirt with her the way I do now and watch her cheeks burn red. She would also have to completely trust Mor and me to deliver her.
But she doesn’t know we’re hardened criminals. For once, I feel guilt.
Mor reaches into the leather sack and hands me a handful of dried fruit and meat.
“Too bad we couldn’t scavenge any beer from the wreck,” I groan, biting into the meat. We lost a lot of our supplies, and I used the rest of my healing liquor on Emily.
I saunter over and give some food to the human woman.
She examines it for a long moment, bending the food between her fingers. “Is this what you gave me on the ship?”
“No, this is just dried doona and marg,” I answer. Her face twists into complete confusion. “It’s fruit and meat. The other stuff was high-tech food. This is all we have left after the crash.”
“And some rona berries,” Mor adds, shaking his sack.
“Go ahead. It's pretty good. Not the best, but it’s good,” I say, breaking off a piece of the doona and throwing it in my mouth.
She hesitates, eyeing me suspiciously. “You aren’t going to drug me?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Do you want to get high?”
“No—I just—I’ve been through a lot lately, and I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Well, our job is to make sure you arrive alive and in one piece if that’s any consolation.”
She stares at me intently, with doubt. “But you said, ‘not my king, not my problem.’”
“No, no. You misunderstood. I just need to bring you in alive. That’s it.”
She doesn’t think I’m funny. Instead, she looks down at her feet.
I want her to trust me, though, which is a foolish wish. She’s been ripped from her home and is being all but forced into a marriage with a stranger. She must be experiencing trauma and fear, all partly my fault.
> I’m not making it any better. Realizing that makes me feel terrible.
I should just let her be, but it will be almost impossible to ignore her. My original plan was to keep her safely locked in the cell until we landed in Omicron. She’d be bored, but I wouldn’t be distracted by her.
Now, everything will be different. I have to keep my mind in order, but my desire is growing.
I can’t have her. The only thing I can do is make her hate me. That way, she’ll keep her distance.
And my heart will be safe.
I’m embarrassed at the thought. Then I wonder—am I being a coward?
When I look back, she’s still staring at her food.
“Eat,” I say gently.
She looks at me, hesitating. Then she finally takes a few small bites of the food.
Mor and I speak to one another in hushed tones. We try to come up with a plan, but after the exhausting day, neither of us are thinking straight. We decide to discuss everything in the morning when we’ve gotten some rest.
I look over Mor’s wounds. His blue skin is covered in white bruises and cuts, but nothing is broken. I offer to heal him, but he refuses.
Emily drifts off to sleep. Her head leans back against the tree, and she curls up in the roots. I can’t help but stare at her.
“You like her, don’t you?” Mor whispers to me. The fire pops, and sparks fly out into the sky.
I smile to myself. “She’s alright. I feel bad for her, in a way.”
“Orien, be honest. Are you developing some sort of feelings for the human?”
I snap my head, and my long hair spins around my face. Anger surges through me. “As in, do I want to fuck her? Then, yes. Lots of feelings.”
Mor gives me a smug smile that I want to beat off his fucking face. “I’ll be damned. Has the ex-Prince of Baroma found himself a mate?”
I force a laugh. I hate when he calls me that. “I’d sooner die.” I lay my head against one of the roots and watch the fire. The smoke rises up into the night sky, where thousands of stars poke through the small cracks of the leaves.
“We just need to get her to King Ursen,” I say in the silence, using my most convincing tone.
But Mor has already passed out where he’s sitting. He grunts a pathetic response, then fills the night with his loud snores.
I roll over onto my side and try my best to doze off. But as soon as I grow sleepy, I hear a rustle beside my head.
My eyes slide open. Is there trouble?
I’m right. Through the crack of my eyelids, I see Emily slowly scooting toward me. What is she doing?
Her delicious aroma hits me first, and my body awakens almost instantly, but I don’t move. I wait, lying there and watching her. She draws nearer and leans down. Her hazel eyes glint in the fading firelight.
I take a deep breath. She must think I’m still sleeping. Her flesh is so close to me now, I can feel the heat of her body against mine. It’s almost too much.
Fuck! My fists clench instantly as blood begins to rush through my body. I feel as though this is the first woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Everything she does excites me. I feel my cock harden, then, and Emily’s eyes glance down. All the nerves in my body react when she presses her hands, which are still bound, lightly on my bare arm.
My eyes open completely as I give up the ruse. “What are you doing?” I ask.
She freezes, then tosses her head to the side. “I was just wondering what I have to do to make you take me back to Earth.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper, and her hand traces along my bicep.
The words exhilarate me. Here she is, practically offering herself to me—but I’m not an idiot. No matter how bad I want to fuck her, I can’t. Perhaps there’s no harm in messing with her. She’s clearly trying to seduce me. Even if it’s working, she’s no good at it. Far too obvious.
Yet, oh—what I would give just to get a taste of her. I try my best to push the hunger out of me, but it’s powerful. Is this the game we’re playing?
Then let’s play.
I grab her bound wrists and throw her down on the ground, rolling my body onto hers. I hold her arms above her head as I lay directly on top of her. Just feeling her body under my weight, as we would if I were taking her, exhilarates me. My hips push between her legs slowly.
She gasps, unbidden and full of longing. I can sense the increase in her heart rate and feel her breathing grow rapid. Her cheeks flush, and her full lips rush pink with color. She is both afraid and aroused.
“Is this what you want?” I growl.
She musters her strength, and her head lurches forward straight for mine. I jerk back just in time, missing another blunt hit. She lets out a whimper of frustration. It takes everything in me not to burst out in laughter.
Now, she’s enraged. Her lips push together as she grinds her teeth. She kicks and squirms underneath me with ferocity. I roll us, then, keeping her under my grasp. Now, I lay below her, and she straddles me. Both of her legs wrap around my hips, and my hands hang onto her thick, delicious waist.
She tries to push herself off me, but my grip is firm. With one swift movement, I thrust my hips up underneath her. Her cheeks burn a bright pink as she feels my swelling manhood between her legs.
She throws herself toward the ground off my body, and I roll her flat on her back once again, getting her pinned under me. Her breathing is quick and rigid.
“Look, Emily. I’m really sorry.” My mouth presses ever so lightly against her ear, and I speak in a light whisper. “But you’re King Ursen’s property, and you will be going to Omicronian.” I pull slightly back; our foreheads are touching, and our mouths almost brush.
“I’m no one’s property,” she says through clenched teeth.
My lips hover over hers for a moment, almost leading up to kiss hers. She closes her eyes and tilts her neck up to meet mine, yearning desperately, but I yank back.
I roll off of her and rip the leather belt from around my waist off. Her eyes widen—is that excitement?
I think about what I could do with her, with that belt, and how I could have her crying out in pleasure and begging for more—then push the potent thoughts from my mind.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to fuck you,” I rasp. Instead, I grab her wrists and loop the belt around her hands, tying her securely to a thick tree root, almost the size of my bicep.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, indignant.
“Can’t have you trying to seduce me like that.”
She grows quiet, and her eyes fall to the coals of the fire. She tugs at the leather belt and then gives up quickly.
I shake my head and lay back down, hoping that I’ll get some sleep—but full of regrets.
Emily
I hate him, I repeat over and over. I can’t believe he is already passed out. I tug on the belt wrapped around the thick root. This is how my time has been spent for the past two weeks—constantly tied to something.
I really hate him.
My arms begin to burn. This is hopeless. I suppose I should try and get some rest.
Orien rolls over and lets out a low snore. At least someone’s getting their beauty sleep. His muscular arms twitch, but I cannot help but glance down to between his legs. I know he wants me, but will he give in?
The ghost of his hard cock pressing between my legs stirs me. I clench my thighs together and take a deep breath. There is no way I’m allowing myself to lose control around him, and I most definitely will not develop any sort of feelings for the monster. He thinks he is smooth and calculated. Clearly, he’s never dealt with someone as stubborn as me before.
I need for him to want me enough to take me home. That’s a lot to ask, but it may work. I adjust my position to something more comfortable, but it’s difficult with these alien handcuffs on. I let out a groan of frustration. This is not fair.
“I hate you so much,” I whisper, leaning down over his ear.
He smiles, nothing more than the flicker of his lips. �
��That’s so sweet. Thank you.” He reaches out a hand and pats my leg. His eyes remain shut.
Is he sleep-talking? I don't move.
His hand pulls away and nuzzles under his head. “You should really try and unwind, Emily.”
“Why are you like this?”
His eyes open, and he stares at me lazily. He lays on his back, looking up at me. He places both his hands behind his head and lets out a deep sigh. “And what do you mean by that?”
“I mean that you don’t make any sense. The first time we met, you kissed me, and now you’re acting like the biggest asshole in the universe.”
He chews on his bottom lip. “I am extremely tired, so let me sum this up for you the best way I can.” He sits up. Strands of hair hang over his face. “I’m the way that I am because I’m the biggest asshole in the universe. It’s pretty simple.”
“Clearly, you are,” I mutter. “Do you even know what ‘asshole’ means?”
“Yes. My translator works fine.” He returns to his position on the ground. “You know, you’re quite the little asshole as well.”
I gasp at his jab. “Are you serious?”
He laughs, then closes his eyes.
I sit there for a moment, replaying our conversation. He’s already passed out once again.
I try my best to sleep. There’s no comfortable position. Every time I begin to doze off, I think I feel a spider or some bug crawling on my leg. There isn’t one, of course, but I’ve never slept outside before, and I’m paranoid because I had to deal with some nasty bedbugs and cockroaches in the places where I grew up.
I stare up at the lofty trees hanging over me. The bark on them is light grey and flexible. I dig my fingers into the root, surprised by its softness, but when I yank, it doesn’t move.
I shift my focus to Orien. When he’s sleeping, he looks far less malicious.
I notice a light scar running down the side of his cheek. It’s very faint, but the light of the dwindling fire is casting just the right shadow to draw attention to it. His sharp features ease in the dim light. Without those glowing eyes, he almost looks kind.
“Who are you, Orien from Baroma?” I whisper under my breath. “What kind of life have you lived?” My voice is nothing but a faint sound even I can barely hear. I half expect him to wake up again, but this time, he does not stir once.