Surrender of a Soulseer (Dark Star Doms Book 3)

by Ivy Barrett

  “She’s a demon!” Stroking himself with frantic desperation, Kapali attempted to solve the problem himself. He grabbed the firmine salve and closed his eyes.

  “She won’t allow you to come like that. You sensed her hunger. Pretend she’s Baylott and you can both have what you want.”

  Picking up on his subtle suggestion, Ratauni surrounded herself in illusion. Drey Fon no longer thrust into Serena’s mouth, he held Baylott, punishing him for his part in Serena’s ascension.

  “Suck me harder, you worthless Perrlain dog,” Drey Fon said dramatically. “You will rue the day you touched my mate.”

  Kapali’s hand stilled and his eyes opened. Fear twisted his features. “This isn’t real.”

  “Thrust your cock into his ass and say that again.”

  Moving toward them with stilted steps, Kapali shook his head. “I will not fuck a demon.”

  “You’ll be fucking Baylott. This is what you want, what you’re risking so much to attain.”

  Kapali barely got his cock into position and Ratauni bucked, impaling herself with one violent thrust. The high priest screamed. “It burns! I am being consumed.”

  Baylott dissolved and Drey Fon was in Serena’s mouth again. Until the full moon rose, he would be content with this illusion. Kapali, on the other hand, twisted and howled. Ratauni easily followed his frenzied movements.

  “She needs your come,” Drey Fon muttered, concentrating on his own pleasure. “Thrusting decreases the burning.” Her mouth sucked and slid, commanding his senses. Fire gathered in his balls and he relished the searing pleasure. How could he be content with human passion after this intensity? As if to answer his silent question, Ratauni transformed her eyes. He stared into Serena’s shimmering blue gaze as he pumped his seed down the throat of the demon.

  Staggering back, Drey Fon wasn’t surprised when his cock immediately hardened. Ratauni’s adventures beyond the lodge always left her ravenous. He watched Kapali stuff her ass, each thrust a bitter surrender.

  Memories of Serena’s ascension lingered in Drey Fon’s mind. This bastard had taken her virginity, had felt the firm grip of her cunt before any other. He deserved to die!

  “Death or submission,” he said in a calm, clear tone.

  “Alliance.” The high priest gasped. “I will not be your slave.”

  “Submission is not slavery. A slave has no choice. You will willingly obey my every command or Ratauni will suck the life out of your body.”

  “That’s not a choice. It’s an ultimatum.” Ratauni must have increased the heat because Kapali screamed. “Tell this bitch to release me and I’ll do anything.”

  “Come and she’ll let go.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Ratauni, flood his mind with images. I have other plans for him right now.”

  Kapali tossed his head and guttural sounds more growl than groan tore from his throat. He slammed into her again and again, suddenly wild and demanding. Drey Fon crossed his arms over his chest, amused by the spectacle. Ratauni was the best negotiation tool he’d ever procured. With an infuriated roar, the high priest thrust deep and came in hard, racking spasms. The demon shivered and sighed, collapsing onto her belly.

  Still on his hands and knees, Kapali panted and gasped.

  “Offer me your ass.”

  Kapali looked over his shoulder, his gaze burning with hatred and resentment. “There is no reason—”

  “I will never repeat a directive. If you truly want to become my apprentice, you must obey me in all things.”

  “Get away from me,” Kapali shouted at the demon. Once she had moved to the far side of the fire, the high priest slowly reached back and opened himself for Drey Fon.

  Chapter Five

  Matt licked his lips, savoring the delicious taste of Serena’s passion. She pressed her mound against his thigh, all but begging him to continue what they’d begun.

  They have sex with…machines?

  The revulsion in her tone echoed through his mind even now. If she knew he was a cyborg, would she shrink away and shudder? His body was biomechanical, but his memories and personality had not been programmed, they’d been transferred.

  He stroked her hair away from her face and kissed her brow. “I think we’ve made enough progress for one night.”

  “Progress?”

  The hurt in her tone was unmistakable. Still, he reinforced his determination. It was hurt her now or destroy her later. If she found out what he was after they had sex, she might never recover from the shock. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened during her ascension, but her fear was grounded in mistrust. He couldn’t fuck her until she knew the truth and he had no idea how to prepare her for such a revelation.

  “Serena, I find you extremely attractive, but we have to focus on our goals. You need to be able to express your sexuality so you can freely access your gift. I’m more than willing to help you, but anything more will cause needless complications.”

  “You’re right.” She disentangled their legs and wiggled away from him. “Objectivity is crucial for both of us. I apologize. I should have been more—”

  He placed his fingers against her lips. “You don’t need to apologize. This is an exchange. You heal my spirit and I make sure you’re ready for your celebration.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide and luminous. He could no longer see her disappointment, but he suspected she’d suppressed the hurt, not accepted the situation.

  Scooting off the end of the bed, she retrieved her robe from its hook on the wall. He longed to stop her, to draw her back into his arms. No, it was better for them both if they maintained an emotional distance. He reached over the side of the bed and found his simple garment, draping it across his lap.

  “Did Miranda tell you I was a soul seer?” She returned, sitting on the foot of the bed with her legs curved to the side and her robe tucked around her.

  “Lutton first used the term. After Miranda decided she couldn’t help me, she suggested I come here and continue my treatment.”

  “Why did you first start seeing Miranda?”

  “I suffered an illness that nearly killed me. While I believed I was going to die, I reevaluated my life.” Miranda had a way of extracting details without specifically demanding information. Would Serena use the same tactic? How much did she need to know? “What exactly does a soul seer do?”

  “I see a representation of a person’s inner being. Many cultures report a similar phenomenon. Some see rings, some claim the shadow reveals a person’s true nature, others sense what lies beneath the physical appearance.”

  “What form does this representation take?”

  “I see strands of color, interlacing and flowing with pulses of energy. The patterns, along with the rhythm of the flow, are as important as the color of the strands.”

  “You’re able to look at these soul strands and determine… What exactly do these strands tell you? Are you able to see them around every person you meet?”

  “I’ve yet to encounter anyone I couldn’t read, but Hyalee warned me that it will happen.”

  “You’re able to read my soul strands?”

  “They’re faint, but I can see them.” She smiled and glanced at her hands. “We’ve got some work to do.”

  Did this mean he still had a soul? Faint and convoluted was better than no soul at all. He was sentient and adaptable, but many would not consider him alive. He took a moment to compose his expression. It wouldn’t do for her to realize how pleased he was by her comment. He couldn’t admit his dilemma without explaining the cause of his uncertainty.

  “How does your ability help me? I already know I’m screwed up.”

  Her gaze sparkled with some secret amusement. How he wished he could read her mind.

  “I’m not only able to see soul strands. I’m able to manipulate them. If we work together, we should be able to untangle your strands and balance your energy stream.”

  He raked his hair with one hand and released a weary sigh. “I
think you got the short end of the stick. Helping a passionate woman feel pleasure is a whole lot easier than untangling what’s inside me.”

  She didn’t argue and she didn’t press him for details about his past. They spoke of Halley Prime and his relationship with Miranda. She explained more about the Order’s structure and everyday life in the Perrlain village. It was one step more productive than small talk yet light-years away from the things they needed to say.

  Her gaze stared past him from time to time though she remained attentive. Not exactly past him, it was more as if she stared at the space surrounding him. “What are you looking at?” he asked as her expression clouded for the fourth time.

  “Much can be learned by watching a person’s response to inane conversation.”

  “You’re studying my soul strands? Are they visible all the time?”

  “I have to activate the ability. Soul strands can be hypnotizing. I wouldn’t want to see them all the time.”

  “What have you learned so far?”

  “Not much. You’re a very guarded person.” She fiddled with the end of her belt. “May I ask a rude question?”

  “I suspect you’ll have to ask many if we have any hope of working through this mess.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Much older than I look.”

  She nodded. “There are far too many experiences in your strands for a man in his late twenties. How have you maintained your youthful appearance?”

  “Technology. Many procedures are available on Halley Prime that extend life and youthfulness.”

  “Was technology responsible for your recovery?”

  “Very much so.” He opened his mouth then closed it. It was better to ease her into this a little at a time. “The illness I battled would have destroyed your entire village, ruthlessly crippling those it did not kill. You believe in divine providence, don’t you? Would the Order’s teachings have condemned me to death?”

  “We treat our ill and tend our wounded. I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Ashton VinDerley is a friend of mine.”

  Resentment filled her gaze, making her eyes gleam like blue crystal. “Is this some sort of game to you people? We treated Ashton with respect. He was unfamiliar with our customs, so Lutton mentored him. As a result we have been flooded with tourists! Pilgrims gawk and snicker and sully the things we hold sacred.”

  “That wasn’t Ashton’s fault. Well, not entirely. A young man named Palmer Boehme was involved in the crisis that brought Ashton to your village. Palmer circulated stories about their adventures, hoping to increase awareness about the outposts.”

  “Why did awareness need to be increased?”

  “The conditions on Temple-Tuttle are primitive by design. Many of the other outposts were suffering horribly from neglect. Palmer meant well, but he didn’t anticipate the long-range consequences of his actions.”

  She tucked her robe more snugly around her legs, clearly uncomfortable with the current topic. “The village is closed to pilgrims. No permanent damage was done. What does this have to do with you?”

  “When the malignari shot its quills into Ashton, the elders wanted to let him die, correct?”

  “Ashton’s spaceship crashed into the jungle. When that didn’t kill him, the Deity sent a malignari to finish the job. Is it so hard to understand why the elders believed he was meant to die?”

  “If someone contracted an aggressive illness while they conducted business with criminals, would they be getting what they deserved?”

  She didn’t answer immediately. He hadn’t even told Miranda how he’d contracted the virus, only that he had nearly lost his life. Would Serena agree with the elders? Her opinion shouldn’t matter. Regardless of how it had been accomplished, he was alive. Why did he care what she thought?

  “Do you think you should have paid for your bad behavior with your life?” Her tone was hushed and thoughtful.

  Part of him must or he wouldn’t be plagued with spontaneous memory loops and disjointed images. Who would have thought a biomech capable of nightmares? But he wasn’t an ordinary biomech. His body didn’t require sleep. He simulated the state as he simulated so many human processes. For the past few months, when he activated the subroutine, his intuitive programming accessed his memory files, forming images both real and extrapolated.

  The intuitive programming in his neuro-processor was his greatest achievement. Not only could he experience emotions and access memories, he could learn from experiences, adapt and change. Or at least that was his hope.

  “What I think is irrelevant.” His tone mirrored hers. “I asked what your Order teaches. Was it the Deity’s will that I die?”

  “Apparently not. You’re still very much alive.”

  “I’m alive because of technology, not because of a higher power.”

  “The Deity reveals which plants ease pain and how to brew teas that lower fevers. Lutton learned many things during his seasons at the university and we have embraced them all.”

  “But the Perrlain are opposed to technology.”

  “We’re not opposed to technology. We simply have different priorities.”

  He wanted to believe her, but Ashton’s experience with these people told a different story. “If Orillia became ill and the healers were unable to cure her, would someone seek medical treatment for her elsewhere?”

  “Few of our people ever leave the valley, but there is no ordinance prohibiting such an action. Has your illness relapsed? Do you need medical treatment?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.” He was silent for a long time, considering all she’d told him. There was so much more to his conflict than his cybernetic body. He needed to focus on the other components contributing to his discontent. He scrubbed his hair with both hands and rested his head against the wall. “You said your final assessment will take place with the next full moon. When is that?”

  “The last full moon was eight nights ago.”

  “Then we have three weeks, give or take a night?”

  “How many nights are in a—week?” She hesitated over the unfamiliar word.

  He smiled. Time had far less relevance to the Perrlain. “Seven nights make up a week. Four weeks make up a month. And there are twelve months in each year.”

  “Why do you need so many designations? How do you keep track of them all?”

  “We often chart our activities on something called a calendar or enter appointments into our computers.”

  She licked her lips in a futile attempt to hide her smile. “It all seems rather silly.”

  “Have you ever been out of the valley?” She shook her head. “It’s hard to understand something when you’ve never experienced it.” Scooting down, he relaxed against the mound of soft pillows. He felt as out of place in this primitive cottage as she would in one of the opulent suites at the Dark Star. “It’s been an eventful day. Why don’t we try to get some sleep?”

  Her gaze swept down his body, lingering on his mouth, his chest and finally his groin. “I’ve never slept with a man before.”

  “Has your fear returned?”

  “Of course not.” She crawled across the mattress and curled up against his side. Even through her robe her body was warm and inviting. “You’re going to have to allow me to touch you at some point.”

  He’d thought of little else since he first saw her. Still, maintaining an emotional detachment would be that much harder if she touched him. “Why is that?”

  “After I’ve demonstrated my abilities, the celebration unfolds in three stages. I’m expected to give pleasure and receive pleasure before the other priests and priestesses. Then pleasure will be shared by the entire tribe. It is the customary format for most of our rituals. This is why it is imperative that I overcome my fear.”

  “You have to share yourself with every member of the tribe?”

  “Not necessarily. They witness my pleasure and the demonstration of my abilities. My partner or partners are entirely up to m
e.”

  “Are all your ceremonies so…erotic? Ashton refused to talk about the specifics, but everyone knew the Celebration of Life involved sex.”

  “The culmination of this ceremony is nearly identical to what Ashton and Corry went through.”

  He didn’t speak the words out loud, but the thought of anyone else touching her left him cold. The urge to sweep her beneath him and push into her welcoming heat was nearly overwhelming. Desire smoldered within her eyes. He didn’t want to lose the momentum they’d gained, but he refused to rush her.

  “Give, receive and share,” he said with a smile. “I think we can handle that.”

  * * * * *

  Serena propped herself on her elbow and stared at Matt’s peaceful face. Moonlight revealed the planes and angles of his rugged features and gleamed off the lighter streaks in his hair. She’d curled against his side until his breathing slowed and deepened. Even then, she’d waited until the faintest snore escaped his throat before she shifted position so she could look at him.

  She felt free and empowered, eager to explore. Orillia warned her that she would feel a special bond with the first person she took into her body. Matt hadn’t actually fucked her, but the feelings he’d released were even more intense than what she’d experienced during her ascension.

  Was this warm lethargy nothing more than a novelty? She couldn’t make herself accept such a discouraging conclusion. If Matt had allowed it, she was certain they’d have spent the rest of the night indulging their mutual desire.

  Brushing his rugged cheek with the backs of her fingers, she enjoyed the slight bristle along his jawline. Those whiskers had rasped against her inner thighs as he devoured her pussy. How would he react if she used her mouth to draw him gradually from sleep? Having his thick shaft sliding against her tongue was more than appealing. She longed for his taste and the thrill of watching him lose control.

  Out of habit, she summoned his soul strands. Several places were tightly knotted and so faint she could barely see the colors. What had caused the constrictions? Had he done more than interact with criminals? Shame was a prominent player in his psychological makeup, shame and regret.