by Kiersten Fay
Apparently, Calic had spread the word and embellished her role significantly. As the night drew on, her involvement had grown from successful escape to single handedly defeating Xandar with her sword. Xandar was assumed dead, and a massive cover up was thought to be in place. Anya let them say what they wanted. Deep down, most of them knew the story was too outrageous, and she figured they were merely having fun with her.
Most who entered the pub greeted her personally before taking a seat, making comments like, “I always knew something wasn't right with that boy.”
Anya would just smile, nod, and take their drink orders. She really didn't want to talk about Xandar, didn't want to be reminded of him when she was too giddy from this afternoon’s encounter with Sebastian.
She wondered idly if he would come to the pub tonight. Or if she would find him in her room waiting for her with his devastatingly arrogant smile and rock hard body. Then she would ruin her own good mood and wonder, what if he didn't come? Or worse, what if he came to tell her he was wrong about her being worthy and took back all those beautiful things he said about her? His words were far too good for her, and she knew it.
Calic entered the pub and flashed Anya a brilliant smile, fang and all. “Ah, my little warrior!” he declared for everyone's ears.
Anya felt herself blush. “You must stop lying to everyone,” she ordered.
“Hell no! My version is way better.”
Marik slipped in behind Calic, slapping him on the back. “Don't listen to him, Anya. You did very well for yourself. Even if you didn't flip him over your back and roundhouse kick him to the floor, before smashing his brains in with your fist.”
She laughed. In a teasing voice, she said, “Oh, that does sound close to the actual events, although it was the fireballs from my eyes that crushed his skull.”
“No, it was lasers.”
“Ah, that's right. How could I forget?”
Calic just shrugged. “Anyone who hears my version will think twice before messing with you. Besides, my reputation as a master trainer is on the line.”
“Hey boys.” Sonya sauntered up to the group. “What can I get you?”
“The usual.”
Anya's heart began to flutter when she spotted Bastian enter the pub. Sudden apprehension took over. He was devastatingly handsome with his spiky black hair. He was covered in a long sleeved, black shirt. She wanted to run her fingers under it to feel his hard muscular chest hidden by all that cloth.
His honey colored eyes locked with hers, and she watched him, unable to look away as all that masculine energy loomed toward her. Shivering, her body reacted instantly.
Trying to keep herself in control, she would have said, “Hi,” or something equally lame, but when he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off the ground, and pressed his lips firmly to hers.
Her mind went blank.
His sensual lips sliding against hers was the only thing that mattered at that moment. He held the kiss and allowed her body to slide down his until her feet reached the ground once more. She could feel every ridge of his muscular chest as she went.
Dimly, she noticed silence around her. She glanced up and was met with shocked faces and dropped jaws. Before she had time to react, however, Sonya began jumping up and down with glee. She pulled Anya into a tight, breath squelching hug.
Marik just slapped Bastian on the back, while Cale made the comment, “Come on, Anya, you can do so much better.”
Anya let out a relieved breath as Bastian reclaimed her from Sonya's grip. She hadn't realized until now that she'd been just as worried about their reactions.
For some reason, Sonya kept stealing glances at her neck, looking confused at first. Then she frowned. “You haven't…”
“No,” Sebastian quickly interrupted. “And it's none of your business.”
Anya noticed the others bristled slightly. “What isn't their business?”
“Anya,” Sonya replied. “Can you help me with the drinks? Boys, you take a seat right there.” She pointed to an empty table, eyeing Sebastian just as pointedly before stalking off to the storage area.
Anya followed and helped prepare the raging infernos that the demons loved so much, tipping the bottle to ring every last drop that she could from it. They would have to drink something else after this.
Sonya was obviously aggravated, forcefully reaching for and setting down bottles with loud clangs that surely must be heard throughout the pub. The whole while, muttering in Demonish through clenched teeth.
As soon as the drinks were mixed, Sonya was out the door, leaving Anya to ponder what she had missed. At the table, the men ended what seemed like a heated conversation as she approach. She handed drinks to both Cale and Sebastian, while Sonya handed one to Marik, keeping one for herself. Anya’s beverage had a little less alcohol than the rest.
With an indignant look at Sebastian, Sonya raised her glass. “To courage of the heart.”
“Sonya,” Bastian grumbled.
Sonya shot back her drink and set the empty glass in front of Sebastian before returning to the bar without another word.
Demons were strange with their drinking rituals, Anya thought.
The others sipped their drinks, knowing it was the last of their favorite brew. After a moment of awkward silence, Cale offered a second toast. “We should toast to Anya's first battle won.”
With a snort, she replied, “Cale, really, I didn't do much.”
Ignoring her, Cale bellowed, “A strong, tough, and resilient chit, with laser eyes and all that shit, a right hook that will put you to the floor and a knee that you really should watch out for.”
Anya giggled and buried her face into Sebastian's shoulder.
“Though she wails sometimes at a tiny blister, I'd be honored to one day call her my sister.”
At that, Anya froze, unsure if he was serious or joking.
Calic downed his drink. Marik smiled, eyes glittering with a knowing mischief as he swallowed his drink. Sebastian waited for her gaze to move to him before he downed his as well.
Her mouth went dry.
“You know, Sebastian!” Sonya stomped toward them, angry and determined. “I never thought I'd see the day I'd lose all respect…”
Marik cut her off. “Settle down, luv. Just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't. It's obvious they're both lost, it's only a matter of time.”
Sonya bristled. “It had better. If you are cold hearted enough to just…I'll never speak to you again.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I would think you would want to punish me, not reward me.”
Sonya stomped to the bar, baring her teeth in a silent growl.
Anya sat speechless, trying to decipher the strange conversation, still dazed from Calic's rhyme and the way Sebastian had looked at her. And what were Sebastian and Sonya arguing over?
Before she could request clarification, Sebastian stood, forcing his chair back with the back of his knees. When he reached out his hand, in a silent request for her to accept it, she wondered if it was some significant gesture.
Then she noticed a group of people leaving for the pool. Anya's mind instantly flashed to Sebastian's wet, almost naked body, his arms securely holding her above water's surface. Her arms clinging to him, her legs around him…
“Are you ready to go?” Sebastian asked, breaking her mind away from the intimate image.
She slipped her hand into his.
* * *
——
* * *
At first, Anya thought she had gotten herself turned around again, her sense of direction confused once more, but soon she realized Bastian wasn't taking her to the pool. With reserve and command, he forged ahead, her hand still within his. It was warm and callused, and reminded her of the way it felt on her bare flesh. She shivered at the thought.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
Now that he'd broken the strange silence that had fallen between them, she felt it
was time to start bombarding him with the questions that had been raking her mind since they left the pub.
“What were you and Sonya arguing about? What did Calic mean? For that matter, what did Marik mean? Where are you taking me?”
A robust chuckle rolled out of him. He pulled her to a stop. “We're here.”
“The control room?”
He gestured to a small corridor to the side. Nestled a few feet in were a set of metal stairs spiraling up, curving around smooth cylinder walls. She'd passed this corridor before, but hadn’t thought much of it.
Every step was carved intricately and looked to be handmade, a different pattern etched into the metal. Why hadn't she noticed these stairs before? Maybe because this particular corridor seemed to have been designed to look uninteresting, ordinary, and somewhat hidden. The stairs offered an intriguing promise that something magnificent lay at the crest, something that deserved an entrance of such dramatic elegance.
Anya gave Bastian a questioning look before beginning her ascent. The stairs were solid, sturdy under her feet, and clanged dully as she climbed. Bastian followed behind.
At the top was a door, same as any on the ship, but it didn't automatically open as she approached. Bastian moved in beside her and pressed a few buttons on the key pad. The door swooshed open. Without hesitation, she entered the room, eager to see what was inside.
She was not disappointed.
The room was a dome, almost entirely open to space. Nearly the entire ceiling to floor curve was a transparent wall, gifting her with a strikingly immense, infinitely starry backdrop. In the distance she could see multicolored space-dust fanning out from what she assumed was another mining zone. The brightness of it lit the room in a rainbow of colors, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from the cosmic cocoon, eyes darting back and forth, trying to see it all at once.
Bastian eased himself behind her, resting his hands on her hips. “Beautiful, isn't it?”
“Mm-hmm. What is this place?”
“The captain's quarters.”
His room?
She looked around. Sure enough, there was a bed—a large bed—covered in plush dark sheets and pillows, positioned so that, when laying on it, one could stare out at the awe-inspiring view. There was what looked like a minibar and a seating area with matching plush chairs and a miss-matched couch. A familiar looking couch.
She gasped.
It was the old couch from her room. The one that Sebastian callously took away and then sweetly replaced with a more comfortable one. He'd given her a couch from his room, switching it with hers.
Behind her, Bastian rubbed his hands along her hips and sides, allowing her to take everything in. Unconsciously, she was leaning her weight against him. The man was playing into her every desire. Her every dream, manifested in the male standing at her back, who was now moving his hands across her stomach. A strong, confident, yet tender male. A male who would protect her. A male who would never hurt her, or allow any other to do her harm. A male who could show her things she'd never seen before, unleash her passion and match it with his own.
She swallowed hard, realizing she was falling head over heels for Sebastian.
As if he felt the change in her, he turned her to him and took her lips the way she loved, as if they were his to do with as he pleased. She eagerly opened for him, knowing she should retain some measure of control, but her mind was no longer working correctly. Her body screamed for more of him. To give him anything he wanted. To give him all of her.
“Anya.” Her name on his tongue was thick with lust, sounding almost painful. Grabbing her backside, he ground his hardness into her, making her wildly in need. “I want you, Anya. So bad. I want you to be mine, forever.”
Warning bells went off in her head as she remembered something Darius would say to her.
You are mine Analia. You belong to me.
Darius' voice in the back of her mind sobered her, instantly killing her desire. She backed away from Sebastian. With his strong arms around her, she wouldn't have been able pull away if he hadn't allowed it.
No longer in his embrace, the air chilled her and her body nearly wept from the loss of him, but she forced herself to continue her retreat. His hardened gaze followed her every move, as if any moment he would lunge for her. Her heart was racing and she was finding it difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat. “What do you mean?”
For a long while he just held her gaze.
With surprising fortitude, she demanded, “Tell me!”
He softened and then said, “My kind believes that for every one person, there is another. A predestined, fated mate. I believe you are mine.”
“Yours?” she said in a flat, disbelieving tone.
* * *
——
* * *
“Yes,” Sebastian continued. “When I claim you, you will me mine. For the rest of our lives there will be no other for you but me, and no other for me but you.” He watched the emotions play across her face. Fear. Apprehension. Watched as she distanced herself farther, shaking her head.
Hating the space between them, he struggled not to take a step toward her. He needed to tread carefully here, but was afraid he was doing a poor job of it.
“Claim me?” She was growing more frightened by the minute.
“It won't hurt. It's supposed to bring the female pleasure.” He paused, wondering how best to phrase it. She silently urged him on. “While we are in the midst of making love, I would bite you, take your blood into me, thereby marking you, and claiming you as mine.”
Her jaw dropped in horror. “You can't mean that I would belong to you.”
“You want me, just as I want you. I can protect you. We can protect you.” She was going to reject him. He should want her to, does want her to. He’d never desired a mate. But he could not imagine living the rest of his life without her. He needed her.
“I do want you,” she said with a sigh. “But I will not consent to being owned by you. And no, you cannot protect me. Whether you like it or not, I am in danger. So are all of you. I've put you all at risk! He will kill you if he finds me here. Nothing of this ship will be spared.” She slumped onto a chair sinking her face into her hands. “I must leave as soon as the delivery is made. It's the only way to keep everyone safe.”
“No!” Sebastian roared. “I will not let you leave.”
The hurt in her eyes speared him with regret for his tone, but her talk of leaving cut him to the core. Never mind she'd thought to protect him and his crew. He couldn't imagine leaving her. How could she possibly imagine leaving him?
“You would keep me against my will?”
“For your own protection? Yes.”
A quivering lip betrayed her feelings before she hardened her features. She stood and gave him an indignant glare, burning with disappointment as she glided passed him. He heard the door open and close. When he turned to look, she was gone.
He had imagined this night going so differently.
* * *
——
* * *
Anya ran down the halls of the ship, sucking back her devastation. He'd displayed no hesitation when he told her he would keep her against her will. He hadn't even offered an apologetic tone. She'd seen it in his eyes, felt it to her bones that he was telling the truth. He would lock her up if he had to. Keep her in a room, alone. Maybe he would visit every day, maybe not. Tell her he was sorry, but it had to be this way.
She would fight him, of course, wouldn't allow herself to once again be locked away. Escape would be her only goal. Knowing now, what freedom was, she could never go back to how things were. Not without losing her will to survive.
How long would it take before she grew to hate him for it?
Winded, she slowed her pace. If he was coming after her, he would have caught up by now. It was wise of him to let her go considering how angry she was at the moment.
How could he think to threaten her freedom? Did he expect her to thank him f
or it? Arrogant demon! He even seemed shocked by her refusal to accept him as her new owner. How could that have possibly surprised him?
Absently, she wondered the halls, not really seeing where she was going, growing weary with anger seething in the pit of her stomach. Making her way through the ship, she headed toward the one place that had given her the greatest sense of tranquility.
The Sanctuary.
As she entered, the essence of life flooded through her, dancing its way up her spine. Breathing in the air, she felt refreshed, slightly calmer. Moving farther into the room, she avoided the corner where Sebastian had kissed her for the first time—she would not even think of it—and continued to a patch of grass, plopping herself down.
Blocking out her sorrow and focusing only on her surroundings, she stayed there until everything became muted. Until her strained emotions subsided. Until her eyes grew heavy.
* * *
——
* * *
Sebastian buried his head in his hands. It had come out all wrong. He'd meant to tell her how he felt about her, that he couldn't live without her. He'd meant to tell her that, with him, she would want for nothing. Would always have anything she desired. How he would cherish her, spoil her…love her.
He'd meant to tell her he loved her.
Instead, he'd told her he would lock her away if she ever tried to leave him.
Idiot.
His heart had been hammering with fear that she would refuse him, stumbled on his words because of it. His calm, cool demeanor that he hid behind so often was now a hindrance, keeping him from blurting out his feelings for her like some lovesick pup.
“Dammit!” His voice echoed through the empty room. He had wanted to chase after her and beg for her to let him start over again, to let him explain. But he sensed if he tried to force her back, she would break. Her final look at him, as if he were some evil thing she needed to escape, had torn at him from the inside.