by Y. M. Roger
“Would it be alright if I spend some time with Unisha this afternoon?”
Hondo pulled just slightly away from her and turned only his head to face his Captain – his hand’s massaging never slowing as he spoke.
“Kilgar?”
Kilgar was engrossed in the communiqué and thought, but he pulled his mind away at Hondo’s behest.
“Huh?”
The Captain was obviously engrossed in the contents of the communiqué.
Hondo asked again. Sort of.
“Unisha?”
Hondo felt Shelvana’s moisture begin to coat his fingers, and he had to swallow his wartrige’s growl of lust as the pre-occupied Kilgar answered.
“Uni … oh, yeah. Female. Promoted to Shelvana’s detail. Definitely.”
Hondo turned his attention back to Shelvana and smiled warmly.
“Enjoy your time, shioliah,” he leaned forward to kiss her good bye as he reached around to caress her buttocks, smoothing down far enough to spear her slit from the rear this time – his tongue moving in and out of her mouth in sync with the actions of his finger.
Shelvana moaned into his kiss again just before she broke the kiss by nipping his bottom lip and baring her teeth that she had allowed to elongate over her lip.
“I will see you for family dinner, my Hondo?” her teeth already back to normal, Shelvana smiled tenderly as she ran a talon-bared hand through his ebony-colored hair and nuzzled his cheek with her nose.
“Yes, kedi,” Hondo licked his fingers profusely as he watched Shelvana shut the door behind her before finally turning his attention back to Kilgar. Hondo engaged the door’s sealing mechanism just as a frown pulled Kilgar’s brows together – his demercriere growling almost imperceptibly – as he tossed the letter back across the map table toward Hondo.
Their eyes met and, almost simultaneously, they both stated, “Plant,” although Hondo’s was more of a question whereas Kilgar’s was a strident statement of fact.
Kilgar nodded in assent to his Prince as he continued.
“But bring the pich in anyway – I still have a few soldiers I need to train on some questioning techniques – works out just fine for everyone.”
The light of bloodlust in Kilgar’s eyes shown brighter than Hondo had seen it in a while – pair that with those deep scars that adorned his rugged face, and Hondo had to chuckle.
“Damn, birader,” Hondo downed the remainder of his fermenti and smiled at his trusted friend and Captain, “I am sure as godsfall glad you are on our side.”
Kilgar’s smile increased in its intensity, only this time the emotions encompassed there in reaction to Hondo’s address of him were anything but aggressive.
“Always, my Prince,” he shoved his final bite in his mouth and practically swallowed without chewing – his mind re-focusing on tactical planning, “Now, do we need to arrange a strategic female for Rafal for this op – it would be the easiest way to …”
Hondo interrupted him with a chuckle.
“I am pretty sure he would refuse,” the Prince licked his plate clean and downed the rest of his fermenti, “Rafal is all about rubbing Khitam’s nose in the fact that he refuses to bed a fertile female.”
Kilgar chuckled along with Hondo.
“Yeah, I got that,” the Captain paused for a moment and then intensified his stare at Hondo, “What kind of allocation should we make for Rafal’s personnel?”
Hondo let out a long breath, his wartrige’s sigh evident within.
“Most of Rafal’s resources are,” Hondo hesitated and averted his eyes from Kilgar’s intensity, “Obscure.”
Kilgar and his beast growled – not threateningly so, but a growl all the same.
“You have said that before,” Kilgar studied him, searchingly, “Care to elaborate yet?”
Hondo got up and retrieved two water sises from the cooler, mostly to avoid Kilgar’s question – he did not like keeping things from this, his best friend, but on this one topic, there could be no compromise because, as Kilgar had so eloquently put it earlier, they were talking about the future of the whole Empire.
“Soon,” Hondo tossed one sise to Kilgar and opened his own as he re-seated himself, “We promise, Captain. For this day, however, we ask that you continue to trust your Prince,” Hondo took care to look Kilgar in the eye as he stated the last, “But I will ask him about resources when we speak tomorrow – we will have most all of your answers by the time we return.”
Kilgar narrowed his gaze before relaxing again and nodding – he trusted Hondo.
Completely.
“And I am guessing he still does not trust his Captain or his Detail?”
Hondo would have chuckled if the subject made any sense to him at all – he could not imagine actually feeling safe without his Kilgar … with only Yearlan to trust …
Hondo poured some of the water into his hands and rubbed it over his face and through his hair.
“Not one kahrolasi bit, Kilgar,” Hondo and his beast growled in unison as he poured more water in his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, “And I honestly believe that he and his beast would kill the lot of them if something was not preventing him from doing so.”
Kilgar nodded his head in agreement as he opened his own sise and chugged half of it while he watched Hondo refresh himself. The Captain’s instincts told him he was looking at that ‘something’ right now – Kilgar had always surmised that Rafal’s kahrolasd ‘Jaylis situation’ was the result of a deal Rafal had made with the supreme ruler of godsfall himself … Khitam Sadid.
But because Kilgar suspected that deal had been made for Hondo’s sake, he would keep his speculation to himself.
For now.
Rafal walked out of his chambers nearly two and a half hurs later – his hair was still damp, but all preparations that could be made at this point based on Hondo’s message were finally handled.
As were the necessary details from the triacate incident last night.
Now, he could concentrate solely on his Chiyoto.
And even though her scent was still so strong that his beast rumbled with desire inside of him, all that met his searching ears was silence.
Rafal stepped into the small food prep area to find his Dalis sitting at the table, the steward’s head rested on one hand as his other hand cradled a fermenti. Dalis’ eyes were closed although his body did not signal a state of sleep at all – in fact, it seemed as though the elder steward was lost in prayer of sorts. Dalis’ lips moved just enough to signal such to the wondering Prince.
Rafal frowned as there was no sign of his Chiyoto anywhere.
“Dalis?”
His deep voice startled Dalis such that the steward’s hand slipped out from supporting his head and his forehead fell forward to bump on the fermenti sise. Dalis only rubbed his head slightly as he smiled wistfully at his Prince and pointed toward the sitting area – that action followed immediately by Dalis placing three fingers over his own lips to indicate that Rafal should be quiet.
Rafal crossed the floor to look into the sitting area. There, his Chiyoto was balled up fast asleep, in her hands and held near her face was his shirt he had deposited there last night when Dalis had called him home about Hondo’s message.
His chest tightened with the emotions that ran through him at the sight – his beast only rumbling low in agreement with those emotions, as if the usually ferocious and hard-to-control beast, too, was afraid of waking her.
She was beautiful, and she was perfect.
And she is ours.
Rafal took a deep breath to anchor himself with those words as he heard his Chiyoto’s declaration repeated in his head.
“Both you and your beast share that same strength, the same anger and ire, whether either of you admits it or not.”
Rafal chuckled at his innocent Chiyoto’s wisdom a
nd the solace it brought him – she was the first being to ever acknowledge his beast as anything but ‘horrid’ or ‘murderous’ or … Rafal simply shook his head as he turned back to Dalis.
“How long has she been sleeping?”
Rafal made his way toward the cooler.
“Just over an hur or so, Prime Magistrate.”
Rafal stopped just short of opening the cooler and immediately turned back to his steward – Dalis’ tone indicated true concern.
“Is she alright, Dalis?” his beast growled in apprehension.
Dalis looked like he had all the troubles of the whole Empire on his mind.
“She is for now, my Lord, but …,” Dalis seemed to lose his words and his eyes darted anywhere but to Rafal’s face.
Rafal abandoned the cooler for now as he stood to full height and examined his Dalis closely.
“But what, Dalis?”
Dalis’ eyes finally met Rafal’s.
“She was hungry, truly hungry, and the amount of food and nourishment they consumed …”
Dalis’ eyes fell away from Rafal’s again.
Rafal knew what the implications of such an appetite were.
And he knew that his Dalis knew as well – no reason to lie.
“She is Yasak, Dalis,” his beast growled in protest and in agreement – if such a contradiction were even possible, “And she is our mate. Period.”
Dalis raised an eyebrow at his Prince as a mischievous grin slowly crept across his elder face – he could not wait until Mischief woke to tell him the news.
“She is delightful, Magistrate,” he rose and threw out the mostly-filled fermenti, “And her speech and language are so proper and impeccable, but she is obviously not accustomed to, shall we say, modern accommodations?”
Rafal nodded in agreement as he resumed his opening of the cooler, “Yes, she has been quite isolated since …,” Rafal gaped as he held open an empty cooler except for two more fermentis, “Dalis, where are all of the meat pastries and …”
Dalis chuckled.
“I told you, my lord, Hanfendi Chiyoto was truly hungry,” Dalis smiled as he keyed in the access code to open the supply order system that connected the Royal Suite to the shuttle’s kitchen/dining area, “All of our” – he pointed to himself – “nourishment is gone as well.” There was no annoyance or regret in Dalis’ tone, only amusement, “She even finished up your meat pastry you had started before she arrived.”
Dalis’ pleasure could not be masked.
Rafal stood and frowned, his hands placed authoritatively on his hips.
“But we just had a meal last …”
“Oh, she threw all that up, Prime Magistrate,” Dalis continued typing in his order as he spoke, “Apparently, there was synthe …”
Rafal’s brow furrowed as he leaned in to Dalis’ face.
“What do you mean ‘oh, she threw that up’, Dalis?”
Dalis chuckled as he finished up his typing and placed his palm on the confirmation pad.
“I mean, the synthetic blood in her drink made her extremely ill – which is not unusual for one unused to the substitute or whose particular altre cannot process the chemical variations – and she went to bed with an empty stomach last night,” Dalis paused and turned to Rafal – a complete change of subject, “I should have these supplies delivered immediately, yes?”
Rafal looked at his steward as if the aged male were mad for even asking such an insane question.
“If not sooner, Dalis,” he re-opened the cooler and grabbed one of the lone fermentis, “We are hungry.”
His beast growled in agreement.
“Not nearly as hungry as your female was,” Dalis grinned sheepishly as he ducked teasingly away from the Prime Magistrate’s intensity – adding to the delivery instructions ‘immediate’ and ‘scratch only’ for entrance.
He did not want the delivery to wake their wonderful female.
Rafal chuckled at his steward; he opened the sise and took a large swallow as he leaned back against the countertop.
“And why would they have used synthetic blood, Dalis,” it was a subject he would only discuss with Dalis, “Are there not always a large number of willing donors especially for a price?”
Dalis completely halted what he was doing and turned to face his Prince – the shock and disbelief at Rafal’s question written clearly on his face.
“My lord,” Dalis tried to control his inner anger at Rafal’s ignorance while simultaneously attempting not to let that anger wake his sleeping altre – Mischief was almost unbearable when awakened too early in the day, “It has been nearly two cycles since the Khedive forbade the transfer of source nourishment off-planet. It is why I always must bring ours along when we travel now.”
Dalis continued to stare at his Prince as if it were an indictment.
Rafal simply stared back at Dalis – too many thoughts ran through his head – too many questions of how such a restrictive policy affected the millions of beings who depended on blood for survival – and all of the those thoughts and questions played simultaneously with his Dalis’ words just a few moments ago.
“She was hungry, truly hungry … and she went to bed with an empty stomach last night … Not nearly as hungry as your female was.”
“You said particular animals, Dalis,” Rafal’s voice had become harsh, his beast mixing with it, “Who cannot proc …”
Dalis interrupted him because he knew the question.
“The seriously injured as well as the very old and very young, my lord,” Dalis’ voice quavered enough that he felt Mischief begin to stir, “And …”
Dalis clipped his statement and turned away – the elder steward shaking his head as he began cleaning his food preparation area.
Rafal grabbed Dalis’ arm – probably more harshly than he should have, but he had no patience where the well-being of his mate was concerned, and his beast certainly did not – and turned him physically around to face him.
“And what, Dalis?”
Dalis swallowed hard as he looked from Rafal’s grip on his arm up to Rafal’s harsh face – Mischief was awake and trembling in a fearful heap as the blood drained from Dalis’ face, and his lower lip began to tremble.
Rafal immediately dropped his steward’s arm and took a step back.
“No, Dalis, I meant nothing,” Dalis could see the pain in Rafal’s eyes, “Please, tell your animal it is just …,” Rafal swallowed the words ‘our mate’, but Dalis saw the root of Rafal’s actions and immediately relaxed, even though Mischief could not stop trembling.
This was simply their intense Prince Rafal – only this time, there was a female in the picture.
Rafal’s female.
Dalis nodded to let his Prince know all was forgiven as he evenly answered Rafal’s question.
“And all of our predators, my Lord,” Dalis swallowed hard, “Yasaks cannot survive without true source nourishment – they will die of starvation.”
Rafal stood, unmoved, for quite some time – obvious to both Dalis and the re-settling Mischief that he was deep in thought somewhere.
Your kahrolasi sire must die.
And Rafal could not agree more with his beast in that sentiment. Finally, he moved to round the corner into the sitting area and quietly approached the sleeping Chiyoto.
Dalis watched as Rafal lifted the decorative throw off the reclining chair and gently opened it to place over his female – the steward warmed all over at the tenderness he saw in the supposedly horrid and dangerous Prime Magistrate.
Prince Rafal truly loved this female.
Rafal leaned over to inhale her as he ran his hand over her delicious butt cheek – the action eliciting a not-so-threatening growl from her Runa. Chiyoto’s deep magenta eyes flashed open at the same moment that Rafal barely whispered the word “mine” again i
n her ear.
Runa’s voice seemed taxed, as if she had just awakened – Rafal would take such as a small victory if the animal – whatever she was – felt relaxed enough to even doze off within the confines of his quarters.
“Two more days, dear Sadid, and then your little game ends. We have a job to do, and then we must return home. Alone.”
Rafal ran his fingers through her so-very-wrong-colored mane as a self-assured masculine chuckle ran through both him and his beast. He took a long and lingering moment to fiddle with and examine the Keeper again as he spoke.
“It is not a game, proud Runa,” Rafal sighed as his Chiyoto’s creamy peppermint and musk began to relax him, “And I will not let her go in two days or even two cycles. I am not my sire.”
Runa’s mocking, predatoral snicker.
“Perhaps,” a wisp of that pink energy he had seen the first night escaped from between Chiyoto’s sleeping lips, “But you are his progeny,” Runa paused for what seemed like a yawn or, perhaps, even a sigh of acceptance, “Which makes this whole thing you have begun akin to a game because it can never be reality.”
Rafal frowned as he put his nose in her mane and inhaled – was that a hint of ink in her hair? – before he stood to full height. The Crowned Prince smiled in challenge.
“If it is a game, then I will win,” Rafal felt his confidence swell within his chest, “Because her heart already belongs to me.”
Another yawn and then … a growl?
“It is because of that very reason, Sadid, that you will both lose in two days, and, most likely, for your professed two or even more cycles after that,” her final words held both sadness and anger – Rafal could almost feel both emotions run over his skin – Runa, whatever she was, knew that Chiyoto wanted him as well, “There can be no winner and there is certainly no future where my Treasure and your bloodline are concerned.”
Rafal turned, confused and confounded and more than a bit annoyed, and walked back toward Dalis who still stood watching the Prince talk to what seemed like himself.
“With whom are you speaking, my lord?” asked Dalis very gently as Rafal pushed past him.