Awakening

by Rebel Miller

  “It’s forbidden to engage in that kind of activity,” Tai said as if speaking to a child.

  Liandra laughed without humor. She threw a red lock of hair behind a shoulder and leaned over her food. I noted absently that the color of her hair had a brilliance that could have only been created by an optic. “The Outer Realm is more organized than you think. At last count, they had over two hundred worlds, fifty of them inhabited. You think the Realm would stick its head in the sand, knowing about that potential threat?”

  “There are only four inhabited worlds in the Outer Realm, and they’re fractured, with no leadership,” Tai stated.

  “So you only read the newsfeed.” She smirked and turned to Gannon. “You’re the chancellor. You must be privy to confidential and factual information.”

  Gannon glanced away briefly then shrugged. “He’s right.”

  She clenched a small fist on the table. “You know as well as I do there are more. Argon was doing exactly what all the dominions were supposed to be doing. The Corona and Realm Council mandated it. We all have a requirement to gather intelligence about the Outer Realm, yet Argon is the one that is suffering. My father is dead because of the Corona’s hypocrisy.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Tai said.

  Liandra sniffed and shook her head. She picked up her fork and stabbed at her food. “You’re of no help to me,” she said.

  “Why would she do that?” I asked after a moment. Three pairs of eyes looked at me. “Why would the Corona expel only your dominion if everyone was required to explore?”

  Liandra’s shoulders slumped. “That’s what I can’t figure out,” she said.

  Tai had enough. “Perhaps you should stop with the lies and tell us why you and your father were on the craft in the first place,” he snapped, his tablet long forgotten. “If you weren’t behind the attack, what were you doing there?”

  “I’ve already been thoroughly interrogated, Protector,” she said with a curl to her lip. I could see the Elite breeding brimming to the surface. “I don’t need to answer any of your questions.”

  “She and her father are guilty of attacking our sovereign and the members of Realm Council. Of course, she won’t answer,” Gannon said snidely, his arms crossed.

  She threw down her fork and it skittered to a stop in front of me. “We were invited by the Corona herself to meet her at the arc station. We were explaining this to that Protectorate fool, Thaddeus Centurion, when the attack happened,” she said. I realized then that Liandra and her father had been the reason for our delay in leaving the craft when we had docked at the station. “They said the Corona never issued such an invitation, but she did. I had it in print and in her writing, but still they denied us.”

  “Where is it?” Tai challenged, leaning forward. “Show me this invitation.”

  “I lost it in the attack,” Liandra muttered, glancing away. “I don’t know where it is.”

  Tai pushed back from the table, rolled up his tablet and stood. “This is a waste of time. I have law-abiding citizens to protect from violent rebel groups.”

  Tight-lipped, he walked to my side of the table as he slung on his bag. “I’ll message you when I get word about where we’re being transferred.” He sent Gannon a meaningful look before saying a few words to the protectors and striding away.

  Liandra looked at me. “I thought you said he was the arrogant one,” she said, tilting her chin toward Gannon.

  “Yes, well, Tai has his moments,” I murmured.

  Gannon picked up his tray and stood. His customary look of cool arrogance had been replaced with one of great impatience. “Let’s go, Kira.”

  “What kind of intelligence were you tasked with gathering?” I asked Liandra.

  “Kira,” Gannon warned. “Let’s go. Now.”

  Liandra crossed her arms on the table. “Anything and everything. Mostly about Outer Realm technology and exile leadership.”

  “Technology? Leadership? You say that as if rogue worlds are advanced and have governance and law,” I said.

  “They have a version of our system. Some of their leaders’ ancestors were part of the Realm long ago. They simply modeled theirs after ours,” she said. Liandra considered me a moment, the tumult of her emotions making her gray eyes shine bright. “Argon’s citizens aren’t chess pieces to be played with. My father was a good man. He shouldn’t have been used as part of some grand scheme.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  More white.

  I glanced about the room, not even remotely impressed. As in the clinic, the furniture, bedding and walls were all a pristine, gleaming white.

  “This world leaves much to be desired,” I said as I headed over to peer out of the single small window. It was night now, so I didn’t have to see the long stretches of flat land and deficit of color that characterized the dominion. “Haven’t they heard of paint and foliage here?”

  Gannon chuckled as he offloaded his bag and packages of clothes, food and drink. “I take it this is your first time to Septima,” he said, knowing full well I hadn’t traveled much in my life.

  “I’ve heard quite a bit about it from my mother, but I was hoping for a little more than this.”

  “It’s our diplomatic center. It tries to be neutral in all things,” he murmured as he removed the dusty, torn mess that was his coat. “Well, except religion,” he amended, turning around.

  A few hours after our conversation with Liandra, Tai had notified us of the accommodations that were being arranged for Realm Council members and their delegations. While leadership would be situated in Septima Two’s official residences, subordinates were being transferred to a guesthouse and protectors to a base, not too far away from each other. Gannon promptly rounded up his things and accompanied me to the guesthouse, showing no sign of heading to the residences with his fellow senators.

  He scanned the sparse room and, seemingly satisfied with what he saw, approached me. “Show me your wrist,” he said.

  I held up the bandaged wrist for him to see. He started to unwrap it carefully.

  “What do you think about what Liandra said?” I asked, noticing the light stubble around his mouth. Using my other hand, I ran my fingers across his jaw, smiling at the rogue look the facial hair gave him.

  He made an irritated sound. “Kira, what is it with you and this woman?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed. He placed the bandage on a small table beside us and started prodding gently at the swollen flesh. “She just feels so familiar to me, which is odd since she’s an elite. There’s just something about her spirit, I guess.”

  Gannon snorted. “Is Septima bringing out the religion in you?” He stepped away to collect something from a bag.

  I rolled my eyes and watched as he pulled out a compact ultra-light therapy kit. “I think she was telling the truth.”

  Gannon scowled, but held his tongue as he set up the kit on the table.

  “The truth about the number of worlds out there, that is,” I said. “We don’t explore, so how would we know for sure?”

  “So you believe what she was saying about the number of worlds in the Outer Realm, but not that all our dominions have been exploring all along?” Gannon said, still working on the kit.

  “Why would the Corona condemn only Argon for something every other dominion’s doing?” I asked.

  Gannon lifted his gaze to study me. He exhaled deeply and jutted his chin toward the bed. I went to sit down on it as he pushed the table with the kit on top of it closer to me.

  “Tell me if this hurts,” he ordered as he crouched in front of me. Gannon fitted my wrist with a plastic cuff lined with a metallic material on the part that rested against my skin. It felt cool to the touch but warmed almost instantly. He pushed a small button on the side and placed my hand, palm up, on the table. The cuff glowed a warm yellow. “It should take only a few minutes each of the next three days for the swelling to go down,” he said, still staring at the device.

  I looked a
t the crown of his head, watching the dim light of the room highlight some strands differently from the others. A light coating of dust covered his hair, but it did nothing to diminish its beauty. Suddenly, Gannon curled the fingers of one of his hands into a tight fist, his shoulders tensed.

  “Gannon?” I placed a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to look at me. He didn’t.

  “I’m supposed to take care of you, Kira,” he said hoarsely, glancing up.

  I looked at him, confused. The guilt in his eyes was painful to witness. “What are you talking about?” I said. “You have taken care of me. You and Tai protected me in the attack. I haven’t been out of your or Tai’s sight since.”

  “You shouldn’t be here in the first place,” he growled. “I should have made you stay on Prospect.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped me, Gannon.”

  “Yes, I could have,” he stated so simply that I knew it was true. “I could have found a way for the minister to retract her invitation or even deny you entry onto the craft. Tai and I discussed it.”

  I stared at him. “So why didn’t you?”

  “Because I would never want to control you like that, and I know how much this means to you on a number of levels,” he said, angrily pushing himself to his feet. “Fuck, I never expected something like this would happen.”

  “Tai didn’t either, and he’s in the Protectorate,” I said, trying to break him free of the belief he was so powerful he could predict the future. Even the caste designed to protect us wasn’t expecting what had occurred.

  “But we knew there was a chance,” he said, pacing. “I figured the safest place for you would be close to the Corona and the members of Realm Council. I’m such a fucking fool.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said. “There’s no need for you to act the martyr.”

  He shook his head, his blue eyes gleaming with pent-up emotion. I knew that look. Gannon was feeling powerless and he didn’t like it. I was about to disengage the therapy device and go to him, to offer him the comfort I knew he needed, when there was a buzz at the door.

  Gannon immediately went on alert, swinging around to face the door. The only other person who knew we were in this room in the guesthouse was Tai, and he was supposed to still be at the clinic with the ambassador.

  Gannon approached the door and activated the audio device on the wall next to it. “Who is it?”

  There was more than a slight hesitation. “Tai.”

  Gannon’s shoulders lost some of its tension. He engaged the door and it slid open to reveal a weary and haggard Tai on the other side. I moved to go to him, but the device snagged my arm, reminding me to stay in place.

  “I thought you were still at the clinic,” I said, looking Tai over as he walked in.

  “The ambassador was released. He’s settled in at the residences,” he said. He turned in the middle of the room and faced Gannon. “That’s where I thought you would be.”

  “I’m wherever Kira is. You should know that by now,” Gannon said, cutting him a look. He came back to the bed, disengaged the light-therapy device and removed my wrist from it. “How does it feel?” he asked.

  “Better,” I said, but I was looking at Tai. “You need rest.”

  Tai ran a hand over his hair. “There’s not much chance for that. I only stopped by to make sure you were settled in, to see if you needed anything.”

  Gannon glanced over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of her,” he said through tight lips.

  I frowned. “You look like you need more care than I do at this point,” I said to Tai.

  He grunted as if agreeing but shook his head, dismissing my advice. “The attack has brought on a new set of concerns. We’re managing to hold things down for now, but there are reports of uprisings across the Realm.”

  I stood up, trepidation darting through me.

  Gannon’s face darkened. “Is there a chance whoever orchestrated today’s attack could try again?” he asked.

  “We don’t see any immediate threat, but we’re monitoring it.” Tai looked past Gannon’s shoulder to me. “We’ll need to stay here for a few days until we get the lay of the land and things settle down a bit. With the Corona’s condition as it is, it’s the best thing to do.”

  I inhaled deeply, thinking of my family back home and how worried they probably were. I made a mental note to call them again first thing in the morning. It was too early in the day on Prospect Eight to call them now. In fact, I needed check in with Mila as well. Before heading to the guesthouse, I had tried to see her but had been informed that she’d already been transferred to the residences.

  Gannon and Tai spoke in hushed tones. Despite the content of their discussion, the sound of their deep voices soothed my frayed nerves. Wrapping my arms about my waist, I wandered into the small adjoining bathroom and started when I saw my reflection in the mirror.

  Good gods.

  I looked like I had just been through a squall-season cyclone. My face was smeared with dust, my eyes were red and my hair was filthy and in complete disarray. My clothing, once black, was now a smoky gray. I removed the small bandage on my right temple, where I had been hit by falling debris. I undid my belt and jacket, dust flying everywhere as I did so. I dropped them on the ground then leaned over the sink to splash warm water over my face and neck. The water became discolored from the dirt and twisted like a brown snake as it slid down the drain.

  “You okay?”

  I looked up to find Gannon leaning against the doorjamb, assessing me. I nodded but was sure I didn’t look too convincing. We stared at each other for a long while, understanding each other’s feelings even within the silence that rested comfortably between us.

  “Where’s Tai?” I asked, breaking the spell.

  Gannon pushed away from the door. “He left.”

  “Oh.” It was trivial, but it hurt all the same that Tai didn’t say goodbye.

  Gannon ran a hand over my head. A puff of dust rose in the air as my curls recoiled from his touch. “I think we should take a bath,” he said, still running his fingers through my hair.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You just want to get your hands on me, don’t you.”

  A smile was his only response, but it was a disguise for the tension that was evident in the unsteady hand he curved around the back of my head.

  “I need you,” he said with unexpected gravity. He drew me to him and started to pull at my shirt, tugging it up and away from my body. I eased away from him to raise my arms. As soon as he’d removed my top, he tossed it to the side and captured my lips with his.

  My body sang as Gannon’s mouth moved roughly over mine. Through every touch and taste, we celebrated the fact that we were alive, had come out of an indescribable tragedy whole and together.

  I fumbled with his shirt buttons, undoing them as fast as my wounded wrist would allow. He helped me and removed the shirt before pulling me close to undo my pants. He shoved the garment down my legs, not wasting time to unfasten them all the way. On his way back to stand, he left a trail of scorching kisses along my hips and waist and chest. He paused to breathe deeply between my breasts, cupping them against his face with a firm grasp before reaching behind me to unlatch my bra. I shimmied out of it and my panties while he removed his own pants.

  Naked now, we took each other in. There we stood, filthy and fatigued, the smell of smoke and fear from the horrors of the day thick on our skin. I wanted to make light of our sorry state, but my hunger for him humbled me into silence. After a smoldering glance down my body, Gannon turned on the shower then tugged me behind him into the stall. He lathered a washcloth with soap and ran it over my body, gently cleaning the memory of the day away.

  I laughed when he spent an extraordinarily lengthy amount of time on certain parts of my anatomy. Despite my telling him that my sex, breasts and behind had had no chance of coming into contact with dust, he still found it very important that they receive his unshakable attention. With a seductive grin, he then mad
e quick work of soaping up my hair, helping me work through the tangles while washing the grime from the curls.

  Where some men would seem vulnerable in the nude, Gannon only looked more powerful. I enjoyed the way the water formed rivulets, running over the hard curves and indentations of his body. His muscles flexed along his arms and shoulders as he tended to me.

  When he was done, I took the cloth from his hand and let it fall to the ground. With a small smile, I slid my palms down his chest, waist and lower still, enjoying his swift intake of breath when I wrapped a hand around the wide girth of his cock. He had been hard before, but by the time I was finished stroking him, he was thick, long and stiff. I licked my lips and glanced up at him to find his jaw clenched, his eyes steady on me. Encouraged, I lowered myself to my knees as Gannon’s hands fisted at his sides.

  “Kira,” he groaned, anticipation making the cords around his neck pronounced.

  Taking him in hand again, I brought his cock to my mouth and licked its head. Gannon’s response was a harsh grunt as he slapped a hand against the tiled wall of the stall. I pulled him deeper between my lips, hearing his breath roughen overhead. I shuddered with mounting need as I ran my teeth along his length and was rewarded by a flex of his cock between my lips. The sharp taste of him was overpowering beneath the fragrance of the soap. I leaned in, ignoring the cold, hard floor beneath my knees, to try to take in more of him, but I struggled around his length and width.

  My jaw soon started to protest, so I changed tactics. Easing back a bit, I teased just under the head of his cock with the tip of my tongue. He made a pained sound and curled his fingers into my hair, tugging ruthlessly at the strands. When he forced his cock to the back of my throat, my pulse leapt and my nipples drew tight. I closed my eyes, giving myself over to him, wanting him to control the pace. Suddenly, he pulled back and took a firm hold of my jaw. As he slipped from between my lips, I peered up at him, blinking away droplets from the spray of water that fell over his shoulders from behind him.

  Gannon stared at me with question in his eyes. I considered him for a few moments then understood that he was holding himself back. It was the last thing I wanted.