by Regine Abel
Alkor snorted, a strange glimmer flicking through his uncanny yellow eyes. “Indeed,” he said, a mysterious smile stretching his full lips.
“Until tomorrow, then,” I said before leaving.
As I walked out in the cool late morning breeze, Alkor’s stare burned holes in my back. But I kept my head straight, refusing to look back and reveal how much our meeting had affected me. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
I ended up shopping after all and found this ridiculously sexy, black brocade, steampunk corset with golden clasps in the front, making it so much easier to close. A black flannel, ruffled long-sleeve bolero coat gave the outfit a bit more flair, which I completed with a short, black leather skirt and a pair of high-heeled, steampunk, black ankle boots. I let my golden-brown hair down, the natural waves nicely framing my face, and kept the makeup to a minimum—mainly some mascara and a nude lipstick.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I had to admit the result was flattering. It had more of a gothic edge than steampunk vibe, which pleased me. I had this vampire mistress thing going on, which I found super-hot. Considering we were still a little over three weeks away from Halloween, I covered my outfit with a long, black leather coat, not wanting my nosy neighbors to start asking questions if they ran into me on my way to the garage.
After dropping my car in a nearby underground parking garage, I walked nervously up to the entrance of The Darkest Hour. A line had already formed outside with eager patrons in a variety of impressive outfits. The doorman recognized me, but his eyes narrowed at my ‘traditional’ coat. I shrugged it off, revealing my more suitable clothing beneath. With an approving smile, he gestured me in, ahead of the pack. I’d never been part of the ‘in-crowd’ that got to skip ahead of the line before. It felt freaking awesome! I loved their envious stares, each wondering who I was, and what made me so special.
I’ve got a date with the big boss, bitches! Eat your hearts out!
The party was already in full swing inside. Throngs of people had taken the dance floor by storm, others sipped exotic looking drinks served in skull-shaped glasses, or with smoke at the top as if dry-ice had been dropped into their beverages. Most booths along the walls were already full, laden with bottles and munchies for the wealthy patrons occupying them. But I had no time for any of this. My heart pulsed in tandem with the pounding beat of the music playing as I made my way to the back, towards the private elevator. Another security guard, whose name I didn’t remember, nodded at me as I approached. He opened the cage door of the elevator and gestured with his head for me to go in. He used a key fob on the security panel and then pressed the up button before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
The lift flew up, and my shoulders tensed with anxiety, anticipation, and the terrifying sense that something important was about to happen; a line would be crossed, and there would be no turning back from this.
The lift stopped on the private balcony which only Alkor had access to. With a trembling hand, I opened the cage door and stepped out. Alkor, his back turned to me, was looking down at the partying crowd, his hands resting on the railing. Two massive, leather wings with vicious looking spurs at the top and at the tips, hung folded on his back. They flexed, the motion incredibly natural for mechanized prosthetics.
“Welcome, Brianna,” Alkor said, without turning around. His voice sounded deeper and even more gravelly than before.
“Hi,” I whispered, struggling to find my voice.
He turned his face sideways, giving me a profile view. My stomach dropped at the sight of the facial bones and short horns protruding from his hair.
I knew that face. But the darkness kept me from being certain. I advanced with hesitant steps, my breath coming in short bursts as if too much pressure on my chest kept me from breathing properly. Stopping barely two feet behind him, his long tail twitched as I raised my hand, fingers trembling, and reached for his right wing. Still looking at me over his shoulder, Alkor stretched that wing, allowing me to explore its soft, leathery texture. A network of veins crisscrossed the dark membrane between the bones. My palm roamed over it, then towards the middle of his back, where it attached seamlessly on the side of his spine beneath his shoulder blade. No contraption strapped it to his body.
“They are real,” I whispered. “You are real.”
Alkor turned around, his face devoid of any expression, although a muscle ticked at the edge of his jaw. My chin quivered, and my eyes misted as I looked upon the face that had haunted my dreams for the past twenty years. The strong jaw, the yellow eyes, the prominent forehead, and sensual lips. With a will of their own, my hands cupped his face, tracing every single one of his features as if to confirm what I was seeing. Alkor closed his eyes, and his lips parted as he surrendered himself to my touch. A sharp pair of fangs peeked out from between them. The blunted tips of his horns scraped my palms, while the silky feel of his dark-brown hair soothed them.
“It’s you. It’s you,” I repeated in a litany, tears I couldn’t control trickling down my cheeks. “I found you. After all these years, I found you.”
Throwing my arms around his neck, I buried my face in his chest and bawled my eyes out. His arm wrapping around my back and his hand caressing my hair only opened the floodgates wider. In that instant, it wasn’t just emotional gratitude overwhelming me, but the fear, the sorrow, and the loss I had sustained that day, and in the years that followed, that all came crashing back down on me.
“Hush, Brianna. Hush,” Alkor whispered, still gently stroking my hair. “I am here. You are safe. It’s over. No harm can come to you anymore.”
I tightened my hold around him and nodded, deeply moved that he had understood without requiring an explanation. My face rubbed against his neck, the texture of his skin slightly rough, like his hand had been yesterday when I shook it. Forcing myself to get a grip, I reluctantly loosened my hold and looked up at him, feeling rather embarrassed. His yellow eyes gazed upon me with such tenderness that my chest constricted. He gently wiped my tears with his knuckles and placed a kiss on my forehead.
“Why?” I asked softly. “Why did you hide from me all these years? Why reveal yourself now?”
A troubled expression crossed his unusual features, and he averted his eyes.
“Please,” I begged. “I need to know. You knew who I was all these years when you refused to see me, didn’t you?”
Alkor sighed then nodded. “I was trying to protect both of us. Come,” he said. His hand on my waist, he led me to a large, cushioned, leather bench.
Despite the dim lights, I could see that the sparse furniture in the large private booth was top quality. Once again, most of the pieces appeared to be antiques. Aside from the bench, a matching chair and three-cushion couch surrounding a wooden coffee table, the booth possessed its own minibar, a circular table that could seat ten people, and a set of five monitors that displayed all key areas of the club in rotation.
I sat on the bench, and Alkor settled next to me, our arms touching.
“Protect me by hiding that you’re a gargoyle?” I asked gently. “That statue was you, right?”
Alkor smiled. “That statue was indeed me, but I’m not a gargoyle. I’m a Khargal.”
I blinked, unsure of the difference. “Is that a different breed of gargoyles?”
Alkor chuckled. “The gargoyle is a human myth inspired by Khargals. My kind has been among humans for centuries, living in hiding. But the occasional sighting is inevitable. Humans created their own lore based on real events, but also based on a great deal of assumption and speculation.”
“Okay, but where do you come from? Where do your people normally live?” I asked. “I mean, you’re not really from some kind of Underworld, right?”
Alkor burst out laughing. “No, Brianna. I do not come from the Underworld. Truth be told, there are very few of my kind around. In fact, just a little over twenty.”
“Twenty?” I exclaimed, my eyes widening. “What happened? You were hunted?
You don’t have many children?”
“Our females here all died,” Alkor said in a somber tone. “A few of my brothers have taken human mates with whom they’ve had hybrid offspring.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. It was inconsiderate of me to pry like this,” I said, mortified by my lack of tact.
“It’s okay,” Alkor said, with a gentle smile. “It happened a long time ago. But as you can guess, the less people know about us, the better. Certain unsavory groups would love to get their hands on us to turn us into lab rats.”
The way he said that, he’d clearly already dealt with some of said ‘unpleasant’ individuals.
“So why did you finally agree to reveal yourself to me now?”
“Some things have… changed. Things that make me reconsider my stance about certain… situations.”
“Some things like whatever it is that makes you want to reopen that room?” I asked.
Alkor narrowed his eyes at me, and I held his gaze, daring him to contradict me.
“Yes,” he conceded. “Some things like that.”
“What are you really after? What’s your agenda?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“There are many things I want, Brianna. Many things.” Alkor said, his eyes dipping to my mouth. “But that is for another time.”
I licked my lips in an involuntary, nervous gesture. His yellow eyes darkened, turning to molten gold. My stomach fluttered as his gaze remained glued to my mouth.
“You can trust me, you know?” I said, leaning forward. “You saved my life. My father’s life as well. I would never betray you or harm you.”
“I want to trust you,” he whispered. “I want…”
His voice trailed off, replaced by an almost animalistic growl. And then his lips were pressing against mine. I couldn’t say for sure who had kissed whom as I’d been fighting the urge to throw myself at him. I welcomed his invading tongue, a fiery ball of desire swirling in my belly. My fingers found their way through his hair, the horns making it a little awkward to fiddle through them. In a move so swift it made my head spin, Alkor effortlessly lifted me with one hand under my bum and positioned me to straddle his lap. His mouth swallowed my yelp of surprise as he dove in for seconds.
Although not prudish, I didn’t make a habit of jumping a man I felt attracted to. But this man… this Khargal… I wanted him to ravage me. And Alkor seemed just as hungry for me. Tilting my head back, he covered my neck with kisses, his fangs scraping over my sensitive skin making my stomach quiver with fear and excitement. His hand lowered to my bum, pressing me against his pelvis. The stiffness rubbing against my core left no mystery as to his level of arousal.
Only when I felt my bustier loosen did I realize that Alkor had opened the first two clasps. Bending me farther back, he continued to unclasp the others while the warm wetness of his mouth closed around my nipple. I threw my head back and moaned, pleasure coursing through me from both my breast and the wickedly divine friction of his groin against mine. My short skirt having ridden up meant my thong in no way dulled the sensation of his hard cock rubbing against me. Alkor, bare-chested, wore only a skin-tight, grey pair of pants, of an unknown fabric, that also allowed me to feel him as if he were fully naked.
My bustier fell off and Alkor drew me back to him, recapturing my lips. The burning skin of his bare chest against mine tore another moan from me. His arms around my back held me with incredible possessiveness, like he feared I would flee or disappear. No thought could be further from my mind.
“I want you,” Alkor growled against my lips, the urgency in his voice making my stomach flip-flop and my inner walls throb. “I need you.”
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling with an irrational desire.
Alkor growled again, his hand slipping around and under my bum, his fingers parting the thin fabric of my thong to tease the seam of my pussy. A strangled moan escaped me, and I writhed under his ministrations, needing more.
“You’re already wet… So gracking wet for me,” Alkor said.
“I need you,” I said, echoing his earlier words, aching to feel him inside me.
I felt—more than I saw—him free his cock. And then its head was pushing against my opening. Despite the slickness of my arousal, it proved a tight fit. Alkor worked his way in with a series of shallow thrusts. It took every ounce of my willpower not to just impale myself on his shaft, the need to feel him deep inside me overriding every other thought, and even, almost, my sense of self-preservation.
“You’re mine,” Alkor said, his voice thick with desire, once fully sheathed. “You’re all mine now.”
His wings wrapped around us as he began to pump in and out of me. Each stroke awakened me to a whole new world of sensations. I hadn’t seen his cock, but I could feel the unusual ridges along its length caressing me just the right way inside.
Alkor’s labored breath in my ear, and his sultry moans further fanned the fire consuming me from within. The odd texture of his skin tickled every single one of my nerve endings. He was inside me, all around me, taking me to sinfully delicious heights as I began to crest. Heart pounding, skin burning, I toppled over the edge as the raging inferno in the depths of my core erupted in blissful waves of ecstasy. My body seized, and I cried out his name. Alkor continued to pump furiously in and out of me, his bruising hold tightening around me as he neared his own climax.
“Brianna,” Alkor said. “Brianna!” he repeated, this time as if in pain.
Through blurred vision, still coming down from my own high, I watched him swallow painfully, his fangs bared, a hungry look on his face as if he were struggling not to bury them in my neck. And then, he threw his head back, shouting his release, his wings spreading wide open behind him. His seed shot deep inside me and, for a fleeting moment, I realized we hadn’t used protection. And yet, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to worry. Body still shaking with the tremors of his orgasm, Alkor looked at me with such wonder and borderline worship, I melted against him.
Still buried deep, he once again closed his wings around us and kissed me slowly, tenderly.
“My woman,” Alkor whispered against my lips. “I’m keeping you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but he didn’t seem to expect a reply. For the next eternity, our hearts beating in tandem with the rhythmic thumping of the music inside the club, we remained in each other’s embrace, savoring this moment of intimacy in the aftermath.
5
Alkor
I couldn’t stop feasting my eyes on my woman as she peacefully slept in my bed. Despite taking her four times already—three yesterday evening and waking her for another round during the night—I hungered for her still. My mating glands had swelled at the back of my throat, demanding to release my dassa, for the mating kiss. The binding fluid would make her my life mate. Same with my fangs, which ached to complete the bonding bite. Although not required, it would accelerate the process. But I couldn’t do this lightly, and especially not without her consent. The consequences were too great. The lack of sex in my life didn’t explain this insatiable need she’d awakened in me. Khargals weren’t slaves to their libido. Unless we found our mate, our sexual drive remained fairly minimal.
But mate or not, by revealing myself to Brianna, and worse still, by becoming intimate with her, I’d stomped all over the Prime Directive. As a career soldier, and high-ranking officer, I’d always taken pride in following rules and enforcing laws—not breaking them. For a millennium, I had resisted temptation, even over the past twenty years since meeting Brianna—although the last ten, once she came of age, had proven to be the truly painful ones.
The few women I had been intimate with over that thousand years, only once each, had no idea of my true nature. I’d also made sure not to impregnate them. Reproducing with humans would be an even bigger violation of the rules. A few of my brothers had done so. I had severely frowned upon their actions, but stranded and alone for centuries, it felt heartless to begrudge them finding wha
t bit of happiness they could.
Back then, I hadn’t believed a human female could stir our mating instincts. But meeting Brianna had flipped that notion on its head. Still, I had remained steadfast in my observance of the rules, agonizing each day at the thought my woman was aging and soon, her short human lifespan would permanently take her from me. That she’d still been in her twenties had made it an easier choice. But would my resolve have remained unshakable as she grew older?
Last night, I had broken all of those rules and ached to break them further. Biting Brianna, sharing my mating fluids with her, would increase her lifespan and make her body stronger, less vulnerable to sickness, cold, heat, and deprivations of all types. It would also prepare her to receive my child and allow a successful implantation.
Brianna stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stretched her long, toned limbs. The blanket slipped, exposing mouth-watering pink nipples. Unable to resist their appeal, I wrapped my lips around her left one. Startled, Brianna emitted a shocked cry, which turned into an amused chuckle. Her fingers weaved through my hair while I sucked on her hardening little nub.
I loved the sweet taste of her and the softness of her skin. Shoving the blanket aside, revealing her sexy nakedness, I let my hands roam over her flat stomach before dipping between her legs. Her breath caught, and her back arched. Brianna’s response to my touch drove me crazy. Already, the proof of her arousal coated my fingers. I pursued my manual assault until she fell apart, and only then did I bury myself into the searing warmth of her tight sheath. The wet embrace of her inner walls around my cock set my blood ablaze, each stroke sending electric sparks up my spine and to all of my nerve endings.
My mating glands swelled further. The primal need to bind her tortured me beyond words. Her delicate hands, feverishly exploring me, impatient and possessive, helped distract me from this torment. They awakened sensations unlike anything I’d ever imagined. Brianna had already become an addiction I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let go of. I pounded into her with reckless abandon, forcing myself to rub my pelvis against hers, every five thrusts or so to stimulate her clitoris just the right way.