by Pearl Foxx
She ran a hand down his cheek and cupped his jaw. Pushing the fingers of her other hand into his hair, she leaned in for a gentle kiss. After a moment, she pulled back, looking him right in the eyes. How had she ever doubted her feelings for him? How could she think she would do anything other than staying on Kladuu with him?
With a smile, she said, “And that’s why I love you.”
Nestan pulled away again, but this time not in a flinch, but in surprise. He peered up at her with such hope in his eyes that it took at least five years off his appearance. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her tighter against him. “Can I ask you something?”
“After that? What could you have left to ask after that?”
Chuckling, he squeezed her tighter. “Something I’ve been afraid to ask.”
“Well, dip me in batter and call me fish fry. What could possibly scare you after I tell you I love you?”
“Will you stay? Will you stay here on Kladuu? Preferably with me?” He ran his hands up her back in a smooth, soothing motion.
“Did you not hear what I said?”
“I did.” His smile was broad and bright. “But I didn’t want to assume.”
“So that’s your big question? That’s the thing that has you all scared? I declare my love, and all you have to do is ask me to move in with you?”
He burst out laughing. The sound was almost jarring because it seemed so out of character. But at the same time, it was like he was finally letting her completely in and allowing himself to relax. He squeezed her, pulling her chest tight against his.
Nuzzling his face into her neck, he whispered, “I love you.” His hands roamed over every inch of her body that he could reach. One arm snaked around her waist, his hand moving up to the back of her neck and clinging to her tightly. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Linnea giggled and placed her fingers back into his thick curly hair, kissing the side of his face and whispering the same thing back again.
After a moment, he stood, his hands under her ass so he could carry her weight. He took them over to his bed and lay down on top of her. With both hands, he smoothed her hair away from her face, a look of adoration brimming from his eyes.
“I love you,” he said again, his voice thick with conviction and lust. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated with desire before he brought his lips down to hers.
She opened her mouth to him, reveling in the feel of his coarse beard against her cheeks. They kissed slowly. Not because of his timidness like before, but because they had so much to say and only their bodies to say it with.
Linnea wrapped herself up in him, letting the warmth and goodness of him become a cocoon she never wanted to emerge from. She kissed him back, her tongue tasting each part of him. She wanted to know him and for him to know her, to truly connect and finally understand what it meant to make love.
His hand made its way to her breast—rubbing and caressing it, pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp, and then pressing a warm palm against it. He cradled her with such reverence, while at the same time showing her no mercy when it came to the pleasure she sought.
She raked her nails up underneath his tunic top, desperate to feel his skin. She pushed the front up to his chest so she could scratch her nails along his muscular body and feel the soft hair on his pecs against her fingers. He raised his hands so she could pull the tunic over his head and expose his body to her hungry eyes.
She brought her mouth to his neck, kissing and licking along the sensitive areas until she found the spot that made him moan. There, she bit his skin lightly, and he threw his head back with a sigh. She licked and kissed and scratched and caressed, putting all the love she felt into every touch. She lost herself in exploring his body.
Taking his nipple into her mouth, she tongued at the hard, pebbled point. She kissed her way down his firm, muscular stomach until she found the line of hair that led the way to his pants. When she reached for them, he lifted his hips and let her pull them off, exposing his impressive erection.
He kicked off the pants while she settled herself lower on the bed. She ran her tongue up along the inside of his thigh, enjoying the musky scent that was uniquely Nestan. He smelled like woods and wildness, he smelled like freedom and peace. As she inhaled, she licked along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein that pulsed with need.
He let out a shuddered sigh.
She looked up with a wicked smile. “Have you ever done this?”
He shook his head.
“I think you’re gonna like it,” she said before kissing the already dripping head of his cock. She tasted the sweet salty taste of precum and wrapped her lips around his head, pulling the velvety soft skin into her mouth with just enough suction to make his hips jerk.
The Vilka beneath her groaned and reached down to run his fingers through her hair.
She wrapped her tongue around his erection, licking and lapping at it with a slow, teasing pace that made him whimper and pant. The usually stoic man who would never ask for anything for himself lay beneath her begging for more.
She pressed her hands against his hips, holding him still so he couldn’t move deeper within her mouth. A strangled groan came from above her, and Linnea smirked before pulling even more of his thick, solid cock into her mouth. She licked the underside as she went, sucking and flattening her tongue so she could eke out the most pleasure for him. She bobbed her head slowly, pulling almost all the way off before diving back down. With one hand, she gripped the base of his cock, unable to take all of him into her mouth.
He pressed against the back of her throat, almost causing her to gag, but the taste of him was heady and delicious, making her wish she could take all of him, filling herself up with everything he had to offer.
When she could feel his cock throb and his heavy balls tighten, Nestan pushed himself up into her mouth with a cry. Without warning, he bucked against her mouth, his hips unable to hold still any longer.
She held on tight, jerking the base of his cock at the same pace her mouth moved. Creating one fluid movement, she pulled and sucked him deep into her throat.
When he came, it was all in a rush, the thick explosion pouring down her throat. She swallowed and sucked on him until tiny aftershocks made his whole body shake.
When he finally went still, she climbed up his body and came to rest on top of his hard and unyielding frame. Her curves wrapped around him, soft for each of his hard angles. They fit together. And as she pressed against him, she cupped his cheek and brought his lips to hers.
They kissed again, and it was so full of sweetness that she could barely stand it. She wanted to kiss every part of him—his lips, his nose, his eyes, his neck, his arms, his elbows, his belly, his penis, his toes. She wanted to wrap him up and give him everything she had to offer. She longed to make sure he never spent another day in his life thinking he was anything other than completely worthy of all the love the universe had to offer.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. He pulled her tight against him, and his large, warm hands soothed the tension in her back. His touch was enough to replace all her anxiety and fear with serenity, and his words filled her with that euphoric feeling Jude had described as home.
“If I stay, I would like to stay with you,” she confessed, unwilling to be anywhere other than by his side every day and in his bed every night.
“I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nestan
The next evening, Nestan strapped into the back cargo area of one of the Vilkan military ships as Jude settled at the helm. He couldn’t quite figure out what qualified her to fly a military ship from Kladuu, but it wasn’t his place to question his Alpha’s mate. If Gerrit thought she was a good enough pilot to entrust all their lives with then she must be something spectacular.
She flew low, just over the top of the jungle’s canopy, making sure the ship wouldn’t be seen from Savas’s c
amp. When they reached a clearing, she landed the ship with an almost imperceptible jolt. She wasn’t just a spectacular pilot; she was the best he had ever seen. As if she had sensed his earlier doubt, she threw him a smirk as he unhooked his harness and disembarked.
The ship’s back hatch opened, and the first thing Nestan saw was Zayd’s imposing figure. He stood right at the bottom of the ramp, his hands on his hips, still wearing the dark leathers and no shirt. Why would anyone choose such primitive clothing when other options like Arakid silk was available? Behind him, Draqons in their second forms landed in the clearing, tucking their heavy wings against their sides.
It was one more thing to file away in his list of things he would never comprehend about the Draqons.
Gerrit and Jude strode out of the ship while the rest of the men unbuckled. “Glad to see you.” Gerrit put his hand out to shake Zayd’s.
The Draqon leader quirked his head and gave a cutting smile. “Draqons don’t break their promises.” The gruff man turned and strode away, leaving Gerrit and Jude to roll their eyes at each other and follow.
Nestan and the men geared up and exited the ship. Some had guns, but for the most part, Vilkas preferred to fight in their second forms. And his father would be no different.
As soon as they had disembarked, Jude gave Gerrit a kiss and disappeared back inside the ship. She lifted into the air expertly and navigated farther away. If at went according to plan, she would return shortly to take them all home.
As soon as she was gone, Zayd’s Draqons—who’d remained unshifted—lifted into the air with their mates, who seemed to only communicate in long, unflinching glares, on their backs. The wind created by the massive creatures’ flapping wings almost knocked Nestan over. But he couldn’t deny that while terrifying, the shimmering Draqon scales were beautiful up close.
The only Draqons without mates were Maxsym and Zayd. Maxsym stayed on the ground, while Zayd turned away from the Vilkas, revealing his back, which had black wings etched into his flesh that spanned from the top of his shoulders to his lower back. Tossing his leathers at Maxsym, Zayd shifted with a ripple of skin and scales, and the tattooed wings somehow unfolded from beneath his skin and stretched as he grew into a snarling, smoking Draqon. He leaped into the air, swinging his wings, and took off at the front of his swarm.
Maxsym and the Vilkas crept toward the edge of the jungle. Above their heads, in the tallest limbs, the yellow eyes of the Katu tracked them. With Draqons and Katu helping the Vilkas, Savas wouldn’t stand a chance.
The Vilkas moved silently through the dense foliage, making their way closer to the camp as quickly as possible. As they approached, someone screamed, “Draqons!”
Maxsym rubbed his hands together before crouching down and baring his teeth. “I think I’m going to like fighting with the Vilkas,” he said.
It was the nicest thing Nestan had heard him say yet.
In the camp’s clearing, Draqons swooped down from the sky. They dropped acid and fire upon the men, pulling everyone’s attention upward. Savas’s men, knowing there was nothing to be done but run and hide during a Draqon attack, scurried about, dodging sprays of acid and bouts of fire. The men screamed and yelled, shifting into their second forms, and taking off.
The few who turned tail to run into the jungle were met with Gerrit’s battalion of men ready and waiting to capture or kill as necessary. As the firebombs continued to rain from the sky, Nestan spotted his father in the distance, rushing toward the cave through which he and Linnea had escaped only a few days ago.
Nestan grabbed Maxsym’s arm. “Can you shift?”
“Of course, I can,” Maxsym replied angrily. Nestan hadn’t meant to insult the Draqon, even though he’d stayed with the Vilkas instead of shifting for some reason. But there was no time to think about that.
“Then make sure he doesn’t get into that cave,” he said, nearly shouting above the fray. He pointed toward his father’s running back. “No one can go in there. If they do, we’ve lost them.”
With a nod, Maxsym stepped out into the clearing, the scales on his shoulders and the black ink on his back seeming to flutter then peel from his skin as if catching some invisible wind. His wings lifted and accordioned out. While Nestan’s gaze was locked on the wide green and purple wings with sharp golden tips, the rest of Maxsym transformed until he was one of the largest Draqons Nestan had ever seen, talons for hands, and a fearsome body covered in rippling muscles.
The monster turned, pinning Nestan with his reptilian eyes and massive nostrils unfurling around smoke. Nestan was tempted to step back away from the threat, but he refused to let Maxsym see him intimidated. Just as he was about to say something, Maxsym’s Draqon winked.
Nestan rolled his eyes at the beast.
The Draqon took off with one powerful flap of his massive wings and barreled toward the opening of the prison cave. He blasted it with fire before slamming the side of his body into the rock so the low-hanging opening collapsed. The rubble cascaded, creating an avalanche which removed any chance of escape, right before Savas.
Nestan watched, his mouth open, as the Draqon rose again and spit acid at the rocks covering the opening, ensuring that no Vilkan would dare touch them.
Savas screamed in fury, his face red and his body trembling in a way Nestan had seen plenty of times before. But he wasn’t a little boy cowering and afraid anymore.
He ran out amongst the melee of Draqons diving above him and Vilkas howling. From the jungle, the Katu roared, branches snapping and cracking as they leaped from limb to limb, corralling any Vilka who got past Gerrit.
At the cave’s entrance, Savas searched for an escape path through the acid dripping rocks.
Nestan approached, his canines descended and claws out. This was about more than just making sure the flesh trade stopped, about more than smuggling trapped Kladians off-planet. Those things were worse than he could have ever imagined his father capable of, but for Nestan, this was the moment where he showed that he would never again allow his father to have so much power over him.
“Father,” he called. The roar of Draqon wings buffeted the sound, but Savas turned as if knowing his son was there. Blood ran down the side of his father’s face, along with the red burn of acid across the top of his bare shoulder.
He seemed even skinnier and wilder than when Nestan had left with Linnea. He looked crazy. Unhinged. Sadness spiked through Nestan’s heart.
“Father, you’ve been defeated. Come and surrender. Gerrit may show you mercy.”
Savas’s lips curled into a snarl. “How very like you to think submitting to that pup would be the right action. If I could have chosen qualities for my son, it would be none of the ones you display. You have no loyalty, no sense of family. You’re barely a man.”
Of course, Nestan had known in his heart that his father would never back down. Something about his nature meant refusing to give in. He had done so much wrong to his planet and to his people, yet he was always righteous in his own eyes somehow. He was blind to all the harm he’d caused.
He was evil. He was everything Nestan refused to be.
Savas reared back as if to punch him, but as the attack flew toward his face, he ducked underneath and delivered an uppercut to his father’s abdomen. But instead of curling his hand into a powerful fist, he left his claws extended and plunged them deep into the older man’s abdomen.
Savas jolted, his eyes stretching wide as they landed on Nestan.
“There’s always a chance for peace, Father.” He watched as Savas crumpled to his knees.
“I would rather die than have your peace,” Savas spat, with bubbles of blood in his mouth.
“Then you will die.” Nestan swiped his claws across his father’s throat.
The slice was deep, and blood spurted. His father made a gurgling sound, reaching for his son. Nestan stepped back as his father collapsed to the ground. A circle of blood spread out around his head.
Nestan turned around, his body cov
ered in his father’s blood. It had splattered across his face and dripped from his hand. Sadness seized his heart, but it was the sadness of all the things that should have been, not over Father. He should’ve had a father who cared for him; he should have had a father who loved him. But instead, he’d been raised by a monster. The monster who he’d put down like the beast he was.
Nestan approached Gerrit as the Draqons and Vilkas came together around the corralled rebels.
“Brothers,” Gerrit said to the rebels. “I will extend sanctuary to those Vilkas willing to start at the bottom of the pack. You will have to earn your place. There will be no special treatment given to you and nothing you left behind will be returned. But if you’re willing to rejoin our community, I will give you the opportunity to earn that right. However, those of you who choose to continue fighting will be exiled from this point forward. And no treaties or guarantees of safety will be extended to you.”
As the prisoners divvied up between those who would swear their loyalty to Gerrit and those who preferred to continue living in the woods, more beast than Vilka, Nestan noticed a significant face was missing.
“Gerrit, have you seen Caj? He should be here.”
Gerrit looked around and ordered his guards to search the fallen Vilka. When he turned back to Nestan, his face was grim. “If he’s here, I want to see the body.”
Nestan nodded and began the search for Caj.
Felks’s corpse was discovered underneath a pile of rubble, half his body badly burned. But no one could find Caj.
“Where could he be?” Gerrit asked, staring at Nestan as if he would miraculously be able to conjure up an answer.
“If I know Caj, he’s seeking some sort of sanctuary of his own. I wouldn’t put it past him to retreat all the way to Earth if he thought he would have an advantage by going there.”
Gerrit’s eyes hardened, and he clenched his jaw. “If he went to Earth, then the secret of Kladuu’s location is even more jeopardized than it already was.”