* * * * *
Xairn fumed as he stalked down the long hallway the trail of lights led them to. Slk had no right to speak as he did. Broadcasting the thoughts and emotions of others was wrong and offensive. Especially when there was no way they could be true.
What kind of game is Slk playing? he wondered, taking a sharp right as the lights dictated and finding himself in front of a large green door. How could Lauren find a Scourge compelling or attractive? We are not known for our physical beauty. No, they certainly were not. Xairn was well aware that the grey skin and red-on-black eyes he had inherited from his father looked monstrous next to Lauren’s own smooth, warm brown skin tones and lovely amber eyes. What would people see if they were placed side by side? A beast next to a beauty. That is what they would see.
And how could Lauren see it any differently?
Slk must have been lying for his own benefit, Xairn told himself as he pushed open the door to reveal a small but well appointed guest suite. But what does he stand to gain? And why didn’t Lauren contradict him?
He cast a sidelong glance at her as they entered the room but she was looking elsewhere, her arms crossed protectively over her breasts. Xairn sensed that she was upset about something but he had no idea what. Perhaps she, too, was distressed by the things Slk had said but was too polite to say it aloud.
That must be it. She doesn’t want to cause me undue emotional pain by contradicting Slk which is why she chooses to remain silent.
Xairn felt marginally better at this explanation. It was like Lauren’s kind and gentle nature to refrain from hurting his feelings, though it still seemed strange to him. All his life, he’d been raised in an atmosphere specifically designed to cause pain—whether physical or emotional. The AllFather had fed from his pain and he was an expert at causing the maximum amount of damage. To be with someone who wanted to avoid hurting him was a new experience.
It made Xairn glad that she didn’t desire him as he desired her. If she had, he would have had to worry about hurting her—something he would rather die than do. No, it was far better that he leave her alone and admire her from afar. She was too beautiful, too good and pure for one such as him.
But if he was only meant to admire her from afar, why did his body still tingle where she had pressed against him? Why could he still smell the scent of her hair and feel the warmth of her in his arms?
Xairn pushed the enticing but dangerous thoughts away. Looking around the small room, he saw only one sleeping platform but there was also a couch at the foot of it. Good, so he could take the couch and leave Lauren the platform. It wouldn’t do to be too close to her in the night. Especially considering how his body reacted to hers. And in the morning, they would leave this place and he would take her back through the wormhole to her own planet. The AllFather would never again be able to find her—he certainly wouldn’t be looking for a human female with Scourge DNA. And if—
“I have something to say.”
Lauren’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Xairn turned to see her glaring at him.
“What is it? And why do you look so angry?”
“Why do I look angry? How can you ask me that?” she demanded. “Why do you think I’m angry?”
“I have no idea,” he said, honestly mystified. “Are you concerned about the effects my DNA might have on you?”
“No, nothing like that.” She sighed. “You’re really going to make me spell it out?”
Xairn raised an eyebrow at her. “If you would prefer to speak each individual letter rather than—”
“That’s not what I meant—stop being so literal.” She sounded exasperated. “Look, what I’m trying to say is, why did you make such a big deal to Slk about us not being ‘carnally involved?’”
He frowned. “Because we’re not.”
“Yes, but you acted like the whole idea of being with me was repellant to you.”
Xairn shook his head. “Not repellant. Impossible.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Look, Xairn…” She came closer to him and put one slim hand on his arm. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this but we’ve been through hell together and I care about you—a lot. And, well, I thought that maybe you cared for me too. At least a little.”
Her big, amber eyes were filled with hope—an emotion almost unknown to Xairn. He had been raised without hope or love or tenderness aboard the Fathership. So how could he show them to another? His shaft throbbed at the soft touch of her hand and he moved away.
“I do care about you, Lauren,” he admitted in a low voice. “That’s the main reason we cannot become sexually involved.”
She bit her lip. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”
“No!” Xairn ran a hand over his hair and took a deep breath. “I do want you. Much more than I should. But I don’t want to hurt you. My Scourge nature—”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you’re really going to use that as an excuse? Your nature? Your race?”
He frowned. “It’s no excuse. It is the truth.”
“Well, I’m not buying it.” Lauren came forward and poked him in the chest with one finger. “I think you’re scared—scared of any kind of relationship, sexual or otherwise.” She sighed. “Look, Xairn, I’m not normally a pushy person—especially about things like this. But, well, I like you. A lot. And if you like me too and we finally got away from your father, well, what’s to stop us from taking things to the next level?”
“What exactly do you mean by the ‘next level?’” he asked warily.
Lauren smiled. “You could start by kissing me.”
“Kissing?”
“You know—you put your mouth on mine? I gave you a kiss before, don’t you remember?”
Xairn eyed her lush mouth longingly. He well remembered the soft touch of her lips against his own—it had been just after he promised to keep her safe from his father and take her home. She’d been happy and had pressed her lips to his in a display of spontaneous joy and affection. The gesture had deeply affected him but he understood instinctively that it would be a bad idea to repeat it. It was too intimate…too dangerous.
“You say that I’m scared?” he said, looking at Lauren. “Well it’s true—I am. Because I don’t want to harm you. To do the things I’ve seen done. The things…” He cleared his throat and looked away. “The things I’ve seen my father do to females.”
“You’re not your father, Xairn.” Lauren’s voice was gentle as she reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re nothing like him. Or any of those other Scourge for that matter.”
“You’re wrong!” Xairn pulled away before her touch could start an avalanche of desire that would bury his reason. “I am like them,” he said fiercely. “Their actions—their desires—they are my birthright. I have denied my father and forsworn my race but how can I escape something written in my very blood?”
Lauren frowned. “And these desires you’re talking about…they’re really that bad?”
Something close to despair welled up in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him, to press his lips to hers until she was burned into his senses forever. And though he could scarcely believe it, that was apparently what Lauren wanted too. But I can’t. I must not give in to this emotion, this desire for her.
“Fine,” he said heavily. “You wish to know about Scourge sexual practices? I’ll tell you.” Pacing over to the sleeping platform, he sat on the side, his shoulders slumped. “Females are nonexistent among my kind but even before they became extinct, they were incredibly rare. So they were kept caged from childhood until they were ripe for breeding.”
Lauren swallowed with an audible click. “Caged like…like animals?”
“Exactly.” He nodded shortly. “By the time a female was ready to be bred, there were usually multiple males vying for her.”
Lauren frowned. “So what—she had to pick one?”
Xairn shook his head. “If only it were that simple. But the female in question never had a say in the matt
er—the males would decide it among themselves.”
“How?”
“A fight to the death. Sometimes as many as a thousand males would enter the battle but only one would emerge victorious to claim the female.” Xairn closed his eyes for a moment. Gods, she would think he was a monster when he was finished telling her the practices of his people. But if it was the only way to keep her out of danger he had no choice. “Then the winner would take her home and put the marks of possession on her,” he said.
“Marks…marks of possession?” Her voice was soft and uncertain. “What are those?”
“The Kindred are content to scent mark their females,” Xairn said in a low voice. “But there are other, darker marks of ownership the Scourge place on their females. Those are the marks of possession.”
“But what exactly are they?” Lauren still looked more interested than frightened which wasn’t good as far as Xairn was concerned.
Determined to drive his point home, he grabbed her roughly by the upper arms and pulled her closer, so that she was standing between his thighs, facing him. Her sweet scent drew him like a drug but he forced himself to ignore her effect on him.
“First, a collar.” He placed his hand on her neck, his long fingers spanning her slender throat easily. Lauren’s eyes widened and he could feel her entire body trembling but to her credit, she didn’t pull away. “Then a brand,” Xairn continued. “Here or here.” He touched the inner curve of her hip and the upper slope of her ass. “After that—”
“Wait—there’s more?” Lauren looked at him in disbelief.
Xairn nodded. “After that,” he continued, “She was pierced.”
“Pierced?” Her voice trembled. “Where? I’m guessing you don’t mean her ears.”
“Here.” Though the garment she was wearing was oversized, Xairn could still see the ripe points of her nipples pressing against the silvery fabric. He brushed his fingertips over them lightly, drawing a gasp from Lauren. “And here,” he murmured harshly, letting his hand drift down to brush the tender V of her sex.
Lauren gasped again and jumped back. “You…you’re kidding me.”
“I wish that I was.” Xairn sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “But all that was simply a prelude to the torture that was to come.”
“A prelude? Being caged, branded and pierced was a prelude?” Lauren shook her head. “What could possibly be worse?”
“Bonding sex.” Xairn rose and began to pace the room. It wasn’t very large so there wasn’t much room to pace but he felt like he had to move or he would go mad.
“What is that, exactly?” she asked.
“A mark that never fades—one that causes a permanent mental and emotional connection.” Xairn stopped and looked at her. “Do you want to know how it’s done by my people?”
“I…I don’t—”
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” He began pacing again. “The male would chain his newly won female to the bed. Arms and legs wide, for easier access. After various inventive sexual tortures, he would straddle her and force her to suck his primary shaft.”
“Wait—hold on. His primary shaft?” Lauren frowned. “How many, uh, shafts does a Scourge have?”
Xairn raised an eyebrow. “Don’t human males have more than one shaft?”
“One is usually enough,” she said dryly. “Are you saying you have more than one?”
“We have two. The secondary, which can be used for non-bonding sexual activity and the primary which is only for bonding sex.”
Her eyes widened. “What, like side by side or—?”
“The primary shaft sits above the secondary,” Xairn explained. “Unless it’s properly stimulated, it remains small and inactive.”
“So what…” She coughed. “What happens during, uh, bonding sex then?”
“With both shafts engorged, a Scourge male is able to fill his female completely—both front and back.” Xairn gave her a level look. “I trust you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Lauren nodded and he thought that her normally warm brown skin looked pale. “So she’s tied to the bed and he—?”
“Fucks her,” Xairn said roughly. “Bonds her. He’s not gentle either. It takes a long, long time. And when he’s finished, if his female isn’t dead of blood loss or shock, she is his to do with as he pleases for the rest of her life.” He took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “Do you see now why I didn’t want to tell you? Why it isn’t a good thing that I have emotions for you?”
“God.” Lauren let out a shaky breath and sank down on the bed. “And you…” She looked up at Xairn. “Are you saying you’d want to…to do all those things to me?”
Xairn squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. Gods, how he hated himself at this moment! Himself and his whole twisted race. “Would I take pleasure in hurting you?” he said at last, looking at her. “Is that what you’re asking?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“I told you that I have no desire to cause you pain,” he said, coming to stand before her. Reaching down, he grasped her by her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She was so fragile in his hands—like a flower that could be snapped in two with one careless move. “But I have the same desire—the same need—to posses that all my people do,” he told her. “The need to claim—to mark—to own. I can never get away from it, Lauren. It’s in my blood.”
She looked up at him, her amber eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. “I get it. And if you’re trying to scare me, then congratulations—you’ve succeeded.”
“Good.” Xairn let her go abruptly and crossed to the other side of the room, putting some distance between them. He reached for the door.
“Wait—where are you going?” Lauren protested.
“Out.” Xairn threw her a glance over his shoulder. “These are close quarters. I need some air.”
“But…how long will you be gone? You’re not going to leave me here alone in this weird place, are you?” The pleading tone of her voice gripped Xairn’s heart like a fist.
“Of course not,” he said roughly. “I’m not leaving the alteration house. And I swear I’ll be back later tonight. You can have the sleeping platform—I will take the couch.” His hand was on the knob but her soft voice called him back.
“Xairn,” she said. “Please, I’m sorry you felt like you had to tell me all that but I still don’t believe you’re like…like—”
“Like the rest of my people?” he demanded. “But I am, Lauren. I told you because I needed you to see why nothing can ever happen between us. Why I can’t trust myself with you.”
“I trust you,” she said softly, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes. “Even if you don’t trust yourself.”
Xairn felt his heart clench like a fist. “You shouldn’t.” Before she could say anything else or try to stop him, he left.
It was the only safe thing to do.
Chapter Twelve
Lauren lay on the bed, curled in a ball after he left. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to think about home, about the fact that she’d be seeing her mother and walking on the warm, sandy Florida beaches very soon now.
But the images filling her mind were too disturbing.
Lauren wrapped her arms around herself protectively. God, the things Xairn had told her had been awful! And he’d spoken so dispassionately. His voice was utterly flat as he described the atrocities his race perpetrated against women. Clearly females were nothing more than property to them—to be won in barbaric contests and then marked like cattle.
But though his voice had been flat as he talked, his eyes had been burning. The way he’d looked at her when he spoke made it clear that each word hurt coming out. He didn’t want to tell me. Didn’t want me to think he was a monster.
Lauren sat up in bed and ran a hand through her long black hair. It felt rough and tangled and she wished for a hot bath and a hairbrush. He’s not a monster, she told herself forcefully. He’s protective and sweet and thoughtful. I know he would never
hurt me.
But he’d admitted that he wanted to mark her as his—to put the ‘marks of possession’ on her. Lauren shivered. She supposed she could do the collar and maybe even the piercing—well, the nipple piercing, anyway. But there was no way she was going to let any man—no matter how much she was beginning to care for him—brand her or give her a piercing below the navel. There were lines she simply wasn’t willing to cross for anyone.
Well, she’d have to think about it later. Maybe talk to Xairn some more when he wasn’t in such a dark mood. Sighing, she got up and went to see about getting the hot bath she’d been longing for.
She was happy to find a small but luxurious bathroom with surprisingly Earth-like accommodations in the adjoining room. There was a recognizable toilet which looked completely normal except for being a startling shade of bright blue. A matching marble tub with gold taps sat in one corner and a shower stall in the same color stood across from it. There was even a plush purple robe hanging from a hook on the back of the door.
Lauren was glad to shed her scratchy silver-blue muumuu and put on the robe instead. It fell to her knees and felt as soft as feathers whispering against her bare skin. Then she turned to the tub and twisted one of the gold taps.
To her dismay, instead of water, a thick stream of what appeared to be bright pink oatmeal started pouring from the gold spout between the taps.
What the hell? She twisted the other tap but that only made the pink oatmeal flow faster. Already the bright blue tub was more than half full of what looked like psychedelic breakfast cereal. It was like the Quaker oat man had taken a dose of LSD and then decided to cook up some new flavor. Shocking strawberry, maybe.
Lauren twisted the knobs this way and than but with no result other than to completely fill the blue marble tub with the thick, viscous stuff. At last she got them turned off and stood there, her hands on her hips. The steam rising off the shocking pink oatmeal actually smelled pretty good—kind of flowery—but there was no way she was getting into it.
Brides of the Kindred Volume One Page 137