by Zoey Draven
“I feel awful,” Eve admitted.
“Why?” Khiva asked, nudging her chin up so he could look at her.
“When Valerie came here, to arrange the meeting with you, I said things. I accused her of taking part in what Madame Allegria has been doing. And while we eventually came to understand each other, I still said those things. Not knowing.”
Khiva’s gaze softened slightly. “Leeldra, you could not have known. Madame Allegria forces her to lie to clients about many things. But she helps us in her own way. Many times, she’s helped us.”
“Still,” she murmured. “I owe her another apology. And there was still so much I wanted to say, so I feel I should apologize for what went unsaid.”
Khiva trilled again. “My little protector,” he murmured, his voice warm.
Eve flushed, giving him a small smile, and reached up to touch his cheek. “I just want to help you, Khiva.”
His expression sobered, but he didn’t say anything in response.
She sighed. Eve couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated by it. She figured she might as well try to broach the subject again. “Khiva, I’ve told you about my inheritance. You know how little use I have for it. I could pay for a passage visa off Everton for you, for the others. I could help you find your mother and brother. Not to mention that we could go to the United Worlds about Madame Allegria. I’ve been looking for my father’s contact there and I think I found—”
“Veki, I’ve told you before,” he simply said, his tone neither anger or soft. It was simply stern and it didn’t allow for arguments.
Eve didn’t care. Pushing up on her elbow so she could see him better, she asked, “But why? It would be such a simple solution to…to everything. Can’t you see that?”
“You do not understand,” he said, never looking away from her.
“So explain it to me,” she pleaded. “Because you’re right, I don’t.”
He exhaled a sharp, quick breath through his nostrils. And for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t, that it would simply be the end of the failed conversation.
But then he said, “My line, my family, was one of the wealthiest families on Kerivu. I was raised never knowing the harsh realities that I could have had in another life, had I been born to another mother. I was called the Prince of Firestones once I took over my line’s legacy. From that moment, I was treated like one. I never wanted for anything. And even then, I knew that I wanted to give my line, my young, my mate, the same. It is a source of pride for Keriv’i males, to be the provider, just as my father was to us.”
“Khiva…” she whispered, shaking her head.
He pressed two of his fingers to her lips. “To be the Prince of Firestones and then fall to the position of whore…” Eve’s throat burned, hearing that word from his lips. “It was not an easy transition, as you can imagine, but it was a necessary one. When you become a whore, you learn very quickly that pride is perhaps the last thing you have to hold onto. That is why I cannot accept.”
Eve felt like she was on the verge of tears, but she held them back, swallowing hard. Though she felt his words jab at her chest, she also felt a small ball of anger.
“Last night,” she said softly, “when you said you wanted to have children with me, a family…what was that then? You make me hope for these things when you do not want to help your situation.”
“You should not listen to males when they are on the verge of orgasm, Evelyn,” he murmured, rubbing his fingers over his closed eyes. She sucked in a breath, his flippant words cut her more than the knowledge of his clients ever had.
Eve shook her head, confusion making her thoughts fuzzy. Had she really seen more than what was there, just as Genni had warned her about all those weeks ago?
She didn’t doubt her feelings for him. She’d been falling in love with him from the very beginning. Head over heels, as the Old Earth expression went.
No, however, she began to doubt how deeply his ran for her.
“How did you see this playing out?” she asked softly, not quite able to meet his eyes. “Eventually, I mean.”
“You mean us?” he asked.
Eve nodded, sitting up in bed, tucking the sheet around her naked body. She felt like her whole reality had shifted somehow and she suddenly felt very, very vulnerable. “Yes. Our future.”
“I thought eventually you would stop coming to see me. It would have been gradual, but obvious,” he said softly. “I thought that you would meet a male, who could give you the things you wanted, what you needed. That I would just fall into your memory as the Krave you used to visit, whose company I like to think you enjoyed. From the very first moment I saw you, I knew you would not be a regular client of mine.”
“Why are you saying these things, Khiva?” she asked, shaking her head, staring across her room at the fireplace. “Why are you…compartmentalizing our time, making it seem less than what it was?”
“Because I have to,” was the only thing he said in response, in a voice so soft she almost didn’t hear him properly.
“What does that mean?” she cried out, frustrated, sad, angry. Nothing made sense anymore.
He didn’t answer her.
Eve bit her lip and a tear ran down her cheek before she dashed it away quickly. “I have to go to the washroom,” she murmured and quickly exited the bed.
As she grabbed the robe slung over her chaise, she realized how sore she was, evidence of their amazing night together. Only the morning after was going so terribly. And she didn’t even know why it had taken a turn.
In the washroom, she stood beside the shower tube, taking deep breaths. In privacy, she allowed herself to cry, though she muffled any noise, as stark realization hit her in the gut.
He’d never seen a future with her.
It was possibly also why he didn’t want to accept her help. Because it meant they would be connected to one another through credits. Perhaps he didn’t want that.
She only allowed herself a couple minutes before she leaned over the sink and splashed her face with water. When her eyes were still watery and red, she stepped into the shower tube and quickly washed, rinsing away their night, giving herself more time to calm down.
When she emerged from the washroom not ten minutes later, wearing her robe, Khiva was standing at the window, looking out to the street below. He was dressed.
He turned to her when she entered and he studied her for a moment before saying quietly, “I should leave. It’s still early, so I doubt I will be seen.”
Though her treacherous heart didn’t want him to go, despite knowing now that she’d read too much into their relationship, or whatever it was, Eve nodded and knew it was for the best.
“I’ll order a car for you,” she said, numb, going to the tablet imbedded in her bedroom wall. After she did, she led him downstairs to the foyer and got his overcoat. Her chest felt heavy as she handed it to him, as she watched him put it on, concealing his skin, his body, his quiet strength.
It felt weird, like a different reality, to be so close to him and not touch him. To not smile at him or kiss him goodbye.
No, everything was all wrong. His words didn’t make sense. It was like he was deliberately trying to hurt her, to push her away.
“I know I have no right to ask,” he said softly, as they stood there in the foyer, “but will I see you on Thursday evening?”
Her booking. It felt like a slap in the face that he would remind her of it.
“You might be chained to a bed by then,” she couldn’t help but say, to buy time, remembering what he’d said about his Rut. God, had that conversation happened less than a half hour ago? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Perhaps,” he said carefully. “But if I am not, will you come?”
“I…” she trailed off, not even sure how to respond. She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache start to bloom. “I have a lot to think about, Khiva.”
His shoulders seemed to stiffen at her words, though he nodded.
And because she felt like she should be honest with him, because this might be the last time she saw him, though everything in her rebelled at that thought, she decided to be brave for once and confessed, “My feelings for you run deeply, Khiva. And until this morning, I thought that yours did too.”
She felt a little hope, wanting him to respond, wanting him to tell her that yes, he felt it too. What had he called it? The nuvur’u drava? The linking. That was what he’d told her he felt with her.
So where did it go wrong?
Khiva remained silent, however, deflating her just a bit more, cementing some of the doubt that had begun to spread through her.
“I’m wondering what I should do,” she admitted. “Because if I continue visiting you, knowing that you don’t see a future for us, knowing that you believe I’ll just leave one day, then I feel like I’m setting myself up for failure. I don’t want to do that to myself. I can’t leap blindly towards something if I don’t even have a direction to go.”
His jaw clenched and pulsed, but his eyes remained steady on her. “Leeldra.” That word tore at her. He’d told her he’d never used it with another female. Just another thing that confused her. Was it a lie? “I wish…”
Words seemed to fail him however, but he stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders, as if his touch could answer the swirling questions inside her. But she found no answers.
“Khiva, please know that if you change your mind, if you want my help for passage off the colony, I will give it you,” she said. “No strings attached. You’d never even have to see me again.”
“Why?” he asked quietly. “Why do you still want to help me?”
“Because I like to think that we’ve become friends, Khiva,” she replied. “And friends help friends.”
“You believe we are only friends, Evelyn?” he asked next.
Though she’d woken up fresh and energized, she suddenly felt very drained and tired.
“If we can be nothing else, then yes,” she said, wanting to crawl back to bed…if only his scent wasn’t all over her sheets. A constant reminder.
Again his jaw tightened. Behind him, through one of the windows, she saw the driverless car pull up to the curb.
“Your transportation is here,” she murmured, moving to the door to open it. But Khiva placed his hand on it, keeping it closed, and he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, making Eve hold her breath.
“Please, leeldra,” he whispered.
“Please what?” she asked just as softly.
Again, he didn’t answer her. Or couldn’t. Instead he spun her around, placing her back against the door, and kissed her hard. She immediately responded, but after a moment, she realized what was happening.
With her heartbeat beating in her breast, she turned her head to the side, though it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
Khiva stilled but kissed her cheek softly where his lips landed.
“Kasari, Evelyn,” he said before stepping back.
Eve’s hand was frozen on the door handle, but eventually she opened it, letting the early morning chill sweep in. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she watched as he pulled up his hood to cover his face, his eyes never leaving her.
“Goodbye,” she whispered, feeling that word tear through her chest.
He hesitated on the threshold for a moment longer.
And when he finally stepped through, with one last touch to her cheek, she felt…undone. She watched him get into the car. A short while after, it pulled away from the curb, away from her.
It only took Eve 25 years to experience her first love, her first lover.
And her first heartbreak.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Khiva restlessly paced the floor of his mating room, certain he was wearing tracks in the already worn carpet.
It was Thursday evening, the night of Evelyn’s scheduled visit. Valerie had told him that she hadn’t called to cancel the booking, which had relieved him immensely, but something told him that she might not come.
After their last parting, Khiva could understand why she might never want to see him again. And while at the time, he thought he was doing the honorable thing, the past week had been miserable and dark and lonely. He’d hardly slept because every time he closed his eyes, he saw her, her expression sad, her gaze questioning, and he woke up furious with himself for hurting her and second-guessing his decision.
Khiva went to the window and looked out, towards the Lake District, and his chest squeezed with loss.
He thought he’d been making the right decision, a step towards self-preservation when she inevitably eventually grew tired of spending credits to visit him. Because what future did they have?
He was a Krave whore, under Madame Allegria’s control…and she was a human, with her entire life ahead of her. She was beautiful, kind, wealthy, and sensual. She could have any number of adoring males or perhaps a mate who could give her the things Khiva wanted to give her.
His fists clenched at his sides, just thinking about other males with his leeldra. But he’d never be able to give her what they could. Not anymore. Not on Everton.
His feelings for her were…unparalleled. Frightening. Beautiful.
Letting her go, however, or giving her the choice to stay, knowing they could never have the future they wanted, seemed cruel, but eventually, she would understand why.
So why did he want to be selfish? Why did he want her to come, so that that he could hold her and have her kiss and her soft eyes, knowing that eventually she would realize the truth? Knowing that eventually they would both be hurt when they were forced their separate ways?
And that was only if Madame Allegria didn’t discover their relationship first. If she found out…there was no telling what she would do.
Khiva growled, his head pounding.
It didn’t help that his Rut was near. He should’ve told Valerie to cancel Evelyn’s visit that night, because he could feel it on the verge of breaking. But it was another selfish decision. He wanted to see her, needed to see her. He could hold it off for another few hours, if only to have a few hours with her. For her, he would control it.
His breath hitched when he heard movement outside his door and he turned, already halfway across the room, when it opened.
Bright relief burst when he saw Evelyn on the threshold and he acted purely on instinct.
“Leeldra,” he growled, rushing her, cupping her chin and tilting her mouth up. He needed to taste her, needed to feel her warmth against him, anything to soothe the restlessness inside him.
He kissed her, slowly at first, trying to pour everything he wanted her to understand into that kiss. And for a moment, she responded, gripping his shoulders tightly.
But then her hands trailed down to his chest and she pushed lightly. “Khiva,” she sighed, turning her face to the side.
Khiva’s chest clenched, but he leaned his forehead against her temple, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. After a moment, her arms came around his back to return it.
They stood there in silence but Khiva knew. Already he knew, from the tone in her voice. He’d come to know her very well in the past two months.
She’d come to say goodbye. Everything rebelled in him at that knowledge, but somehow, it wasn’t quite real. Not yet at least.
Eventually, Evelyn pulled away, stepping back against the door to put a sliver of space between them.
“I’m not planning to stay long,” she said softly, looking up at him with even softer eyes. Khiva couldn’t withstand the sadness he detected there, knowing that he was the cause. “It just didn’t seem right to cancel.”
Khiva swallowed, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. But the agony in his chest told him that nothing would be able to prepare him.
Evelyn took a deep breath, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. Even on the verge of suffering, Khiva still needed her. He couldn’t help but remember everything that tongue had done to him.
“I’ve been thinking a lot, this past week. Too much, perhaps,” she started softly. “I’ve been going over every detail it seems and I’ve come to the conclusion that you do care for me, despite what happened at our last meeting.”
“I do care for you, Evelyn,” he said, wondering if he had implied otherwise. “Of course I do.”
For her to doubt that was…unfathomable.
“Just not enough, you mean,” she finished softly. Khiva had to physically move away from her to keep himself from correcting her. He cared for her more than enough, that was why he’d done what he’d done. “Not enough to see anything beyond,” she gestured around the room, “here. This room.”
Khiva turned his head to look out the window, needing to center his thoughts. Quietly, he said, “You deserve more than this room, Evelyn. More than me. Can you not see that?”
When he returned his gaze to her, she was shaking her head and then she gave him a small, sad smile, “I never believed that, Khiva. It’s not a matter of what and who I think I deserve. It’s a matter of what and who makes me happy. That was you.”
Khiva paced back to the fireplace again, rubbing his hands down his face. He looked down into the flames, remembering the forges on Kerivu, remembering that blistering heat.
“I wish,” he said softly, “you had known me before this. When Kerivu still existed. When I could have given you everything I wish to now.”
Evelyn approached him, her footsteps quiet on the carpet, and she laid her soft, warm hand on his forearm. “I don’t,” she said.
“Kruvu?” he asked, turning to her.
“You are not that same male, Khiva,” she said. “You have not been him since your planet was wrongfully destroyed. You have known pain and suffering since and yet you withstood it all without faltering. You are stronger now because of it, more resilient. This male in front of me is who I’ve come to care for most, not who you used to be. I would take you over him any moment of the day.”