by Draven, Zoey
“There is still time, female,” he warned. His voice curled around her insides.
And then he left.
Cara let out a long breath, staring straight into the darkness and seeing nothing. Eventually, she drained the goblet on the console, feeling it settle inside her. And then she returned to her quarters, briefly glancing at Devix’s closed door before she stepped into her own.
And whether it was the alcohol, or his words, or the jumble of strange, confusing emotions she felt inside, the moment she slid under the furs on her bed, her hand trailed between her legs.
And unlike in the shower, when she brushed over her clit and found her center dripping wet, this time she didn’t care.
She orgasmed in record time, biting her lip to muffle her gasp as her back arched off the bed from the pleasure of it.
Then, she fell into the most restless sleep of her life.
ELEVEN
Devix hardly slept that night, even though he’d hardly slept the previous night too…and the night before when he’d stayed awake on Petrika to watch over his female as she rested. He was running on low energy, but the beautiful peace of sleep would not come.
And he hadn’t had enough Brew to dull his senses. He hadn’t had enough Brew to stop the words repeating in his mind, the crude threats he’d made, the way Cara’s eyes glinted in the light as she said she was glad for his freedom, even when it meant her own, the way she told him he wasn’t a villain.
But he was.
Sleep wouldn’t come to him because self-hatred and disgust had taken hold, long before he’d ever met Cara. Now, it was growing, feeding off such a strong foundation, such deep, dark roots.
His reaction to her words had been visceral, so intense that it had taken him by surprise. But Devix couldn’t stomach what she said, that he deserved happiness. She’d looked at him like…he was worth something. And he knew he wasn’t.
He was a disgraced, exiled Luxirian warrior, once proud, once strong, once respected. Now, he was Quadrant scum, belonging nowhere except perhaps on the drifter colony of Rozun, where he found a semblance of peace in the rich, fragrant, damp soil.
With a surging, unexpected moment of clarity, Devix thought, I want to be better for her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling that thought reverberate down his spine, brushing over his Instinct at the rightness.
Devix wanted to reclaim the honor, the loyalty, the pride he’d felt as a Luxirian warrior. He wanted to let his hair grow past his waist and not have to shave it every span. He wanted to see his blood brother, whom he had turned away in shame and anger when he’d come looking for him on Petrika.
He’d been given a gift. A fated mate, one that awakened his dormant Instinct. The highest of honors bestowed upon him by the Fates.
Had he actually thought that he could hand her over without a second look back?
The clarity lifted the heaviest of burdens off his shoulders and he let out a shuddering breath in the quiet of his quarters, staring out at the stars as they slid slowly past.
With that clarity came a grimness because he knew what he would have to do. Sarkon would hunt him relentlessly. He would come for them on Rozun, but Devix didn’t know where else they could go. He needed to refuel and was welcome nowhere else.
But Devix had another advantage. He’d long disabled the trackers on the vessel, something Sarkon had never commented on. Rozun was a massive colony, spread out among the planet’s surface. There was a colony center, where the markets were open, where Devix sold his crops whenever they were ready…but Rozun was a place for hiding, for forgetting. What he’d told Cara was true. The beings on Rozun operated on a unique policy…no creature bothered you if you didn’t bother them. No one asked questions, no matter what.
Most lived near the colony center, but many inhabitants were scattered across the planet, far and wide. Even if Sarkon came looking for them, he might never find them. No one knew where Devix lived. He lived in isolation, far from the center. In the six rotations he’d lived there, no one had ever come across his dwelling by mistake.
Devix stared out at the stars, only half-seeing them.
And he formulated his plan.
* * *
Cara entered the training room the next morning tired, sore, and pissed the hell off. Partly from being aroused and hating it, partly from the pain that radiated from her right leg, causing her limp to be more pronounced, but mostly because Devix was standing on the rubber mat, arms crossed, looking fine as hell and rested, with the calmest expression on his face she’d seen.
“What are you so happy about?” she snapped, wondering if he’d bring up the night before, wondering if he’d threaten to fuck her so hard she’d feel him for the rest of her life.
Her clit throbbed and she scowled. Cara enjoyed rough sex, but none of her past partners had ever fully satisfied that desire. And the fact that his words had aroused her told her that she wasn’t concerned he would carry out on that threat…unless she was fully willing.
Because despite what he thought, Cara had read him right. Somehow, she knew that. She didn’t know why. It was an…instinct. She saw him clearly and she wasn’t cowering away, no matter what he wanted her to think or do.
Immediately he came to her, pushing into her space, which surprised her. Her gaze flickered up to him only to find he was frowning down at her leg. Cara gasped when one of his large hands reached down to gently prod the area, feeling his touch everywhere. She was thankful her pants covered her skin because she might’ve spontaneously combusted had they not.
“You hurt here?” he murmured and that voice caressed her.
Cara’s head spun and suddenly all the pissed off drained out of her. Blinking, she said, “A little.”
“What happened?” he asked, catching her, again, by surprise. But Cara knew he’d probably seen the scar already.
“A motorcycle accident,” she said, the words falling from her lips effortlessly although she’d hardly ever spoken about it.
“Motorcycle?” he repeated, his words deliberate, questioning.
“It’s like a…a very, very small spaceship that’s open and has wheels. We use them as transportation on Earth. Well…some people,” she tried to explain. But her mind was in a fog and he was touching her leg with surprising tenderness. His body was close enough that she perceived his heat, could see the steady, slow thumping of his heartbeat, which put in her in a comforting kind of trance.
What’s happening to me? To us? she thought.
“Like a hovercraft?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, his fingers still rubbing against her.
“I guess,” she whispered. “My dad was driving. I was sitting behind him. A car didn’t see us and hit us from the side. He died instantly,” she said, swallowing hard. The memory was dulled but it still hurt to think about. She could still smell the fumes sometimes, could still remember thinking that it was all just a dream, that it wasn’t real. Because how could her life possibly be real without her father in it?
Only that thought could shake her out of whatever spell he’d put over her. Cara blinked and stepped past him, breaking the contact.
“What are we doing today?” she asked.
“Female…” he murmured, trailing off. His eyes were careful as they looked at her. “It must hurt you very deeply, losing your sire in that way.”
Something tugged at her chest. “It does.”
Devix inclined his head. “It always will,” he said simply.
All of a sudden, Cara wanted to smile, despite what they were discussing, despite what she’d just told him. Because no one had actually ever said those words to her. People always told her it would get better with time, time healed all, blah blah blah. But it never did. Time never healed anything. It only made the pain more manageable.
Devix just told her, in his very matter-of-fact, blunt way, what she’d always thought to herself.
“Thank you,” she said softly, knowing right then that he’d lost someone
close to him as well. It was comforting, in its own strange way, that grief was, literally, universal. That beings from all over experienced such an intense, debilitating emotion.
Devix didn’t say anything else about it, which Cara was thankful for. She would talk about her father if he asked, but after last night, after all the strange emotions coursing through her body that she didn’t know how to deal with, it wasn’t the time or place to discuss him.
Instead, Devix handed her the familiar blade she’d used yesterday. As if her body knew, she immediately assumed the position he’d taught her.
“I will not take it slow just because of your leg,” he told her, eyes glinting.
“I don’t want you to,” she told him, but somehow her words felt like she was responding to something else. Something hidden.
He moved fast, dodging around her blade with a familiarity that irked her. He was at her back, arms around her waist, breath against her neck in an instant.
“Then fight me well, luxiva,” he rasped.
* * *
It happened about four rounds into their training session, when Cara began to become aware that their body language started to morph and change.
She’d managed to elude him once, which seemed to please him to no end. But he kept at her with an intensity that made her arms prickle.
It was impossible not to feel the heat radiating off him and Cara swallowed thickly, feeling that strength against her. Instead of being frightened by it, she felt…empowered.
It was also impossible to forget his words last night, the shocking way they’d made her feel. Every time he came up behind her, she felt his sex pressed up against her. She swore he was hard, but she didn’t know if that was just how he was all the time. What did she know about his race?
His breathing started to change, which Cara thought was odd. They’d barely even started their session and Devix had proved to her that he could probably run a marathon without breaking a sweat. So when his breathing went choppy and ragged, she stopped trying to fight against him, relaxing her tensed muscles.
She turned her head and asked, “Are you okay?”
Cara swallowed. Devix’s eyes were pitch black, his horns were slightly straightened, lifting off his crown, and his shoulders were bunched.
And he never released her. If anything, his grip tightened.
“Devix?” she questioned softly.
His chest rumbled. She felt it reverberate against her back, a kind of growl, softened with a purring trill.
A spark inside her made her belly warm. It spread to every tip of her body, making her suck in a startled breath.
Devix released her with a growl. “Again,” he ordered in a voice she hardly recognized. “Remember what I told you. If you see the opportunity, you run. Do not let me at your back.”
Cara’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest but she forced herself to nod. The blade shook in her hand as they began again. That time, she dodged him twice, eliciting an animalistic growl from him that made her breath hitch. When he lunged for her a third time, she spun, her leg throbbing in protest, and managed to reach the far wall of weapons, the darkest part of the training room.
Cara saw him approach, saw his muscles shift and grow right before her very eyes. Her sex gave a helpless throb, but she was used to her body reacting to him that way that she hardly batted an eyelash. That tantalizing musk of his rose to meet her nostrils and the space between her thighs grew wet and slick.
Another sound tore from his chest, one she’d never heard before, caught between a muted roar and a rasping purr. She saw his nostrils flare and his eyes glinted a sapphire blue in the dimly lit space.
Devix caught her in a flash, hauling her against him until she was pressed snugly into his body…until there was no mistaking what was between his legs.
Her tunic had ridden up her back in their struggle as she tried to kick her legs to connect. She twisted in his arms like a small, trapped animal, desperate for escape. Part of her was unsure whether she wanted to escape.
That was when Cara felt his cock. He was hard at her back, but she felt it pulse, like there was a heartbeat inside.
Warmth swarmed her cheeks, her eyes going half-lidded. It was such a natural, animalistic response…but it felt right.
Her movements against him grew exaggerated, more frenzied. She heard him bite back a groan as she twisted her body against him and Cara’s nipples peaked into hard points. Devix’s arm brushed against them, making her want to gasp out loud as a stinging pleasure wound her body tighter and tighter.
“Female,” he gritted in her ear, his voice a dark velvety thing that aroused her even more. “What are you doing to us?”
She thought it strange he phrased it like that, but it didn’t stop her from gasping, “I—I don’t know.”
Another groan rumbled from his chest when she squirmed against him.
“Devix.” His name was torn from her throat in a sharp, husky rasp. His name was a question that she desperately needed the answer to.
Cara felt the sharp tip of his nose trace the sensitive column of her throat. Devix inhaled deeply and a shiver racked her body, finding the action strangely erotic.
“You are aroused for your male,” he growled against her throat and Cara felt those words burrow inside her.
“W-what?”
“I can smell you, female,” he murmured. “You need to mate.”
Cara inhaled a sharp breath. He could smell her?
Suddenly it made sense. Why he’d reacted to her in the hallway a couple days ago…because she’d been aroused then and he’d been able to smell it.
Oh my God.
Her struggles against him resumed, slightly mortified that he could sense something so intimate.
“And are you volunteering to help me with that?” she couldn’t help but ask. “After all, I believe you said you still have time to fuck me.”
A growl sounded behind her and Cara managed to connect with one of his shins. His grip loosened just enough to let her wiggle out of them, no doubt catching him by surprise.
And then she ran, doing exactly what he’d told her to do.
Only she didn’t make it very far.
Cara let out a small cry of surprise when she went down hard on the rubber mat in the center of the room, her breath whooshing out of her. Immediately, she rolled, kicking out her legs, connecting with his chest, making him grunt.
But he wasn’t deterred. With a speed that surprised her, he pinned her down, flat on her back, his hips sinking down to hold her in place.
Cara’s lips parted, a strand of her hair sticking to the side of her forehead. Her chest heaved hard, brushing his own.
Devix’s eyes were wild and his horns were completely straight, something she’d never seen. They tangled in her hair when he leaned down to rasp in her ear, “I would fuck your cunt so hard you’d feel me for the rest of time. But I also know you would like it. You would drag your blunt little claws down my back, bloodying me, as you begged for more.”
Cara’s hips raised against him, as if her body wanted just that. She forced herself to still. The blade was still clutched in her hand and he was distracted, possibly for the first time. So he didn’t realize that she’d just commandeered the upper hand until she tucked the blade underneath his granite jawline, the sharp edge a centimeter away from his neck.
Devix stilled and slowly, he pulled his head back until he could look down into her eyes. Cara’s arm followed, never allowing the blade to leave its position.
“Good, luxiva,” he murmured softly, in the same voice that had said those dirty, mesmerizing things in her ear.
Cara wondered what luxiva meant in his language. She liked the sound of the word rolling off his tongue and she pressed the blade harder into his neck until the edge was against his skin.
“Have you thought about it often?” she whispered, cocking a brow, feeling a strength infuse her bones, an addictive feminine power over a male.
“Fucking y
ou?” he growled.
“Yes,” she whispered, her knees widening slightly until he was wedged between them. “How often?”
“Since before I saw your face, female,” he answered and she knew it was honest. He’d only ever been honest with her. “I heard your voice and wanted you then.”
“What did you imagine?” she couldn’t help but ask, feeling breathless, aroused, yet undecided about what she would do with the blade.
Devix leaned down and Cara gasped when a small bead of blue blood welled from his neck. “Lower your blade, female, and I will show you.”
“I—I won’t have sex with you,” she found herself saying.
He purred, “I can still pleasure you.”
Who is this? she thought, dazed. Certainly it wasn’t her surly, broody alien captor.
Something about him was different that day. He seemed…less tense about something.
Her grip on the blade wavered and Devix ground his hips down hard, gyrating against her core. Cara let out a shuddery moan, little fireworks of pleasure erupting throughout her body.
“Does that feel good, female?” he murmured.
Oh, wicked male, she thought, half-pissed, half-delighted. He knew perfectly well that it felt damned amazing.
“W-what’s gotten into you?” she asked.
“I have decided not to fight this,” he told her. Again, honest. “I need you.”
And goddammit, Cara needed him too. She needed him between her thighs, thrusting that hard, thick cock inside her until she felt like herself again.
But they couldn’t have sex. Sex was…complicated. Her future was uncertain and she couldn’t forget that he played a large part in this whole mess.
But why couldn’t she at least get a few orgasms from him? It might help to take the edge off, might help relax and focus her.
Besides, he was offering.