by Regine Abel
Kamala’s fingers slipped under the elastic band of my shaal to settle on my ass. Her fingers dug into my cheeks, as she lifted her pelvis. Breaking the kiss, my lips latched onto her neck, sucking on her markings. My cock stiffened in response to her throaty moan and the sharp sting of her nails sinking into my flesh. Holding my weight on my forearm, I lifted her short skirt with my free hand and savagely ripped off her thong, my fingers diving into her core. My mate’s back arched off the floor as she cried out her approval. She was soaking wet, her inner walls convulsing with impatience.
Blinded by a primitive, almost feral lust, I lowered the waist of my meditation skirt, grateful for the stretchiness of the waistband, and dragged down my underwear with it, before slamming myself home into the burning sheath of my woman. I swallowed Kamala’s strangled cry as I once more devoured her mouth. She was so damn tight around my cock, squeezing me in the most exquisite fashion. The initial pain of our coupling quickly abated, and I drowned in an ocean of pleasure, both hers and mine mingling through our empathic link. I no longer doubted that she could feel my emotions, however subtle it might be.
I took my mate with near savagery, and she welcomed the assault. Spurring me on with naughty words, Kamala writhed beneath me, her hips gyrating in tandem with my thrusts, her nails clawing at my naked back. I hated the clothes between us that kept me from the feverish feel of her silky skin against mine. But the world could have fallen to ruins around us, nothing could have made me stop now.
My mate was truly my Fehama, the fire in my blood, searing me from the inside out. Each stroke spreading liquid fire in my veins, fueling the inferno in my groin, eliciting one voluptuous moan from my throat after the next. Even as rapture swept her away, I refused to stop—I couldn’t stop. Her inner walls clamped down around my cock, wresting my orgasm from me. But despite the liquid ecstasy shooting out of me, I continued pumping in and out of her. Her burning sheath convulsed around me in the aftermath, stroking and caressing my shaft with each contraction, keeping me hard.
As soon as she came down from her high, I pulled out of her just long enough to flip my mate around, pull her to her knees, and slam myself in again. Kamala threw her head back, crying out my name, begging me to take her harder still. Nothing pleased me more. One hand holding her hip, the other fisting her hair, I pounded into her with reckless fury. She swayed back and forth, in counterpoint to my movements, meeting me thrust for thrust. When I raked my nails along the Veredian markings on her nape, she screamed, climaxing violently. Kamala collapsed onto the padded floor, her body shaken by tremors of ecstasy. Lying down on top of her, I wrapped my hand around her throat, holding her still. With my cock relentlessly pumping in and out of her, I sucked on her markings until I claimed another orgasm from her. Only then did I finally surrender to my ultimate release.
As the last drops of my seed spilled into her, and the lustful haze abated, I addressed a silent prayer to the Goddess that she would keep my mate and future daughter safe from harm and the ugliness of the world that I wouldn’t be there to shield them from. Cuddling up next to Kamala, I drew her into my arms, and she curled up against me, her lips placing a soft kiss on the tattoos on my chest before burying her face in the crook of my neck.
Goddess, bless my girls, and hold them in your embrace.
* * *
While Kamala slept, I’d snuck out to do a couple more recordings for our daughter, finalize the transfer of my assets, and update my will. I made it back to my quarters to find Kamala awake in bed. To her questioning look, I truthfully replied that I’d checked on the ship’s status, long range scans, and the state of the repairs she’d done in the engine room, all of which I had indeed done on top of everything else.
I hated being secretive, if not deceitful, with my mate, but there was no point ruining what happiness she could still have right now. Throwing the blanket aside, thus revealing the perfection of her naked body, my mate beckoned me, her darkening markings standing out against her golden-brown skin. I answered Kamala’s call, our bodies singing in harmony twice more before sleep reclaimed us.
Still, the next day flew by too fast. During our usual morning training, I taught her some Korlethean combat techniques, perfectly suited to her smaller figure. With my people being more lithe than some of the more massive warrior species out there such as the Xelixians and Guldans, we had to learn how to use our opponents’ brute force against them. Where Guldans weren’t as big of a threat, the Xelixians’ incredible speed, added to their impressive force and impeccable combat techniques, made them a force to be reckoned with.
This, too, constituted treason, but I no longer cared. Something had died in me with that override attack. I would never deliberately put Korlethea in jeopardy, but the welfare and future of my woman and unborn child now took precedence over everything. The selfish part of me was grateful for her remaining by my side, but the protective part of me wished she had left to rejoin her Sisters on one of their Tuurean ships. That the prophecy stated she’d survive to give birth to our child and watch her grow didn’t mean Kamala wouldn’t suffer a great deal before then, not to mention the trauma of witnessing my death.
But Eryon wouldn’t have insisted she come without a good reason. If she needed to leave after saving me from the sabotage, surely he would have told me.
We spent the rest of the day talking, me teaching her some of the Korlethean board games of my youth as well as our traditional dances, and of course, making love. The one time Kamala requested a couple of hours to deal with Veredian matters, I almost begged her to postpone so that we didn’t miss a minute together. With a heavy heart, I agreed and used that time to make two final recordings for our daughter.
I barely slept that night, fighting the urge to turn the ship around and race back to Xelix Prime. By the time we arrived within range of Korlethea, Kamala had realized something was troubling me. She tried to get me to confess but relented when I shut down, having already learned to recognize when it was a topic I couldn’t be swayed to open up about. Before we even entered Korlethean space, the navigation board lit up with warnings and incoming transmissions.
“I’m going to answer,” I told Kamala who gave me a worried glance. “Stand over there behind that panel and remain out of sight.”
My mate nodded and moved swiftly to the hiding spot, sticking a translation bud in her ear. Taking in a deep breath, I schooled my features and opened the channel. The image of Helios, one of our veteran patrol officers, appeared on screen. His dark brown eyes surveyed the room before locking with mine. For a second, my heart skipped a bit, wondering if we’d forgotten to activate Kamala’s disruptor which would conceal her presence on board in case they scanned my ship. The chances were slim that they would, but with the recent attack, I couldn’t take chances. They wouldn’t let us land if they discovered my mate before we did.
“Greetings, Agent Thanis. It is good to see you alive,” the patroller said in Korlethean with a neutral voice. Helios had always excelled at hiding his thoughts. “We’d received word your ship had suffered critical failures.”
“It did. I barely survived it.”
“Are you in distress?” Helios asked. “Do you need rescue?”
“No, thank you,” I said with a grateful smile. “I was able to stabilize the ship. It is capable of completing the journey safely. But I’m curious, as my coms were down for a while, who did you hear it from?”
“The Agency’s High Command, of course,” Helios said. “They will want to see you as soon as you land.”
“Who, specifically within High Command?” I insisted.
Helios ever so slightly narrowed his eyes, realizing something greater was happening. What I wouldn’t give in this instance to be able to read his emotions, which obviously didn’t work over a com system.
“I wouldn’t know. We simply received word from the communication desk of the Agency. Is there a problem?”
“Yes. An override subroutine was sent by someone in High Command t
o sabotage my ship. By rights, I should not have survived it, and my ship would have exploded, leaving no evidence of foul play.”
I sensed Kamala’s stunned—and extremely worried—reaction at my candor with the patroller. Refusing to let myself be distracted, I focused on Helios. She would understand soon enough.
“That is a grievous accusation, Agent Thanis. I’m sure you wouldn’t make it lightly.”
Although worded as a statement, both the underlying question and subtle warning didn’t escape me.
“It is indeed, and I have proof to substantiate my words. For this reason, I request a security detail upon landing on Korlethea and to be escorted directly to the Quorum,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
Once more, Helios remained stoic, his shock only betrayed by the nerve ticking on his temple. This would make some major waves: a drama he certainly didn’t wish to be involved with.
“Acknowledged,” Helios said. “Please continue your approach. We will meet you at these coordinates and escort you the rest of the way.”
“Thank you, Major Helios,” I said respectfully.
He nodded and terminated the call. Kamala came out of hiding, her demeanor showing nothing of her steadily rising fear. Once more, I admired my woman’s self-control and cool headedness that made her such a fantastic leader for the Tuurean army.
“Do not fret, my mate,” I said, drawing her into my embrace. “Even if they decided not to honor my request—which would be illegal—with the word now out that someone in High Command attempted to murder me, whoever is after me will not be able to act then as it would confirm my accusations.”
“They’ll simply look for another opportunity,” Kamala said, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“They will, but that still buys me more time to root them out or have them exposed.”
“But what of me? What happens when they see me?” she asked.
“Now you worry about that?” I asked teasingly.
“No matter how weird your people are, they wouldn’t cause an intergalactic incident by killing an unarmed high-ranking officer of the Tuurean army who came peacefully to negotiate a truce,” Kamala said with a dismissive shrug. “They may jail or deport me, but they know better than to torture or kill me. It’s you I’m worried about. What will they do to you for bringing me?”
“You’re my soulmate. No one can forbid me to bring my bride home unless she’s been banished for a crime,” I said smugly.
She shook her head at me, her concerns far from fully appeased, but didn’t argue further.
Less than twenty minutes later, two Korlethean ships flanked us. Helios quickly confirmed Omniate Sagan himself would meet us at the docks with his personal escort and the contingent of guards usually assigned to the all too rare dignitaries ever allowed to visit us. I didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Sagan was a friend, but also a stickler for rules. Back on the reproduction compound where we’d all been held captive, he’d been the first to want me to proceed with the Quorum’s edict of assassinating Eryon’s mate. However, he wasn’t a narrow-minded fanatic: merely pragmatic. He wouldn’t do me any favors out of friendship, but he would follow the letter of the law, whichever way it leaned.
Kamala debated long and hard whether to wear her Tuurean armor. It would send the wrong message if she did, but it would provide her with an invaluable protection if things got heated. For that very reason, I encouraged her not to wear it. As per Eryon’s vision, things would get heated for me. I didn’t want her jumping into the fray, forcing the others to attack her. She agreed to wear a shimmering, turquoise Veredian dress which made her hazel eyes pop. The mid-thigh skirt with short side slits stopping just shy of her hips, flaunted her endless, perfect legs and their gorgeous Veredian markings. Out of respect for our traditions, my mate didn’t do her signature braid but let her hair flow loosely on her back, down to her ankles.
The only piece of technology she insisted on wearing was her armband which merely looked like an intricately carved, decorative bracelet. It served as a com device, short-range scanner, stealth shield, and energy shield.
Kamala was so beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, savoring this last vision of perfection before facing the trials that awaited me. I wanted nothing more than to drag her back to my bed and lose myself in her, forget about this whole mess, the Quorum, the prophecies, the Titans… to chase anyway anything that wasn’t the two of us. Instead, I gave her a passionate kiss, pouring into it all the feelings that had blossomed in my heart for her.
With much reluctance, I pulled away from her as Kamala began to sense my distress through our empathic bond. I smiled and caressed her lips with my thumb in response to her questioning look.
“There we are,” I said, my chest constricting with emotion as the golden silhouette of Korlethea appeared on screen. “This is not how I wanted to bring you to my home world, and make you visit all of its wonders.”
“You did make me visit it,” Kamala said softly. “We’ve meditated together in the gardens of Salvaye, made love on the floating mountains of Aelyons and in a clearing of Jessineh, and then danced under the blood moon in Trakia. That meditation room of yours is beyond fabulous. I’m addicted.”
“Then I didn’t do too badly,” I said, my voice slightly shaking from emotion.
“You did wonderfully,” Kamala said, brushing her lips against mine.
I embraced her one last time then settled in the pilot’s seat to land the ship. A welcoming committee of twenty guards awaited us with Sagan in the docking bay of Hereya’s space port—our capital city. My mate’s worry rose again as we headed for the airlock. I summoned my Kaa and pushed it towards her. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as the soothing waves washed over her.
“That’s amazing,” she whispered, staring at me in awe. “Is that what Eryon does for Vahl?”
I nodded. “Yes.” Stopping in front of the exit door of the ship, I embraced her once more and gently kissed her before pointing at a corner of the room. “Please stand over there, out of sight. I want to go out first to prepare them and avoid unfortunate incidents.”
“Okay,” she said softly then gave me one last desperate kiss.
I waited until she had reached her position and opened the door. As soon as it parted, I stretched my senses, drinking in the emotions from the guards. To my relief, nothing but curiosity, wariness, confusion, and awe swirled around me. As one of the top agents of the Agency, I had earned a bit of a cult following. Nevertheless, their confusion made sense: an assassin didn’t need protection. He was the ultimate protector. But that was the least of my concerns. I only cared about the absence of hostility.
“Welcome home, Xevius,” Sagan said, looking regal in his white dhalla, woven with threads of gold. A thick ribbon of a similar burnished yellow held his long, dark-brown hair into a ponytail. His smile was genuine, filled the warmth of friendship, yet wrapped in a thick layer of concern. “It seems you are stirring even more unrest than we expected your return would.”
With Sagan, you could never tell if he was teasing, chiding, or merely stating facts.
“More than you know, my friend,” I said tauntingly.
“You have not carried out the mission,” Sagan told me telepathically. “Vision or not, many are calling for your head as a traitor. I hope you have solid arguments. As much as I love you, I will vote purely based on evidence.”
“I expect no less, my friend, and I do.”
“Good,” Sagan said before resuming normal speech. “Let’s be on our way, then. The Quorum awaits.”
“Wait,” I said, bracing for what might follow. “There is someone else with me.”
I skimmed through the shocked emotion quickly replaced by suspicion, relieved of the continued lack of any clear hostile intent. But it was Sagan I focused on. Shock, outrage, and disappointment coursed through him. The seed of doubt, previously absent, had now taken root. Behind me, the waves of worry from my mate swooped down on me. I sent her a
little more of my Kaa.
“Someone else?” Sagan asked in a dangerously low voice.
“Yes. The Goddess has blessed me with my Sareema. She’s here with me.”
Sagan and the guards gaped at me, their suspicion fading to be replaced by genuine surprise and curiosity.
“You have found your soulmate?” Sagan asked, incredulous.
I chuckled. “Yes, the Goddess blesses even scoundrels like me. Come, Fehama,” I said over my shoulder, holding a hand out for her.
Despite the trepidation emanating from her, Kamala walked out with her usual confident, feline steps, her head high, looking like a queen. Walking up to me, she took the hand I’d held out for her and stopped by my side. This time, the men gasped out loud at the sight of a Veredian in our midst. They stared at her with a mix of hostility, lust, and suspicion. Everyone single one of them narrowed their eyes, shifting their vision to assess the truth of my words.
“Sharaz takes me,” Sagan whispered. “There is no denying the Tuning. Your souls are in perfect harmony.”
“They are,” I said proudly, looking possessively at my mate. She smiled, and I affectionately kissed her forehead.
“Well, this complicates things,” Sagan muttered to himself before locking eyes with Kamala. “I am Sagan Lentus, Omniate of the Quorum. What should I call you?”
“My name is Kamala Dartos,” my mate said in a courteous but firm voice.
Right on cue, another wave of disbelief swept through our escort.
“Your Sareema is the flipping leader of the Tuurean army?” Sagan asked me, flabbergasted.