Cyborg Heart

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Cyborg Heart Page 8

by Anna Lewis


  “At least you know I am a woman,” she said while running to him.

  Catching her in his arms, he held her up by her butt and rubbed his nose into hers.

  “And who would not know that?” he asked curiously.

  “These creatures,” she responded while gesturing wildly. “They had no idea what I was!”

  “They’re not the smartest,” commented the prince.

  “I couldn’t tell,” she said while chuckling.

  The reunited couple embraced each other and kiss, their celebration interrupted by rapid fire coming from below. No one was manning the ship and it was beginning to make its decent towards the surface of Degau. Realizing they were being shot at by their own soldiers, Ero’an took hold of the controls and yelled over his radio for them to cease fire. Panicking, Amelia tried the controls for the beamer and began setting up their transfer until the whirling abruptly stopped. The light for the control beeped rhythmically under her fingers while she pressed it repeatedly, groaning with frustration when it wouldn’t start.

  “What does blinking mean?” she asked as the ship plummeted faster to the ground.

  “How should I know?” snapped the prince while pressing other buttons.

  “Don’t you know how to fly these things?!” she cried.

  “Some of these controls are different, you know,” said the prince.

  “Now isn’t really the time for your pride to make an appearance, Ero’an. We need to do something fast. Isn’t there manual on this ship?” Amelia asked while bracing herself against a seat.

  “There must be a booklet somewhere,” said Ero’an, eyes darting around.

  “Not a manual! Manual as in we can manually drive the ship, you twit!” yelled Amelia.

  As the ship fell rapidly from the atmosphere, and the two lovers yelled, Amelia pressed a few more buttons and took hold of the lever that apparently controlled the ship. She pulled it back and they belly of the ship hit the ground, slamming them down as it skidded to a halt in the fields. Flower bulbs were scattered everywhere as the couple collected themselves from the metal ground of the cockpit, brushing each other off and coughing from the fumes emitted during their crash. Stumbling, they made their way from the rubble to encounter a slew of soldiers surrounding them with ray guns.

  ***

  “Stand down!” yelled the prince as the soldiers began to apologize. “Would you kill your prince?”

  Amelia shook her head and began to laugh, the shock wearing off and leading her into the more comical side of her rescue. While Ero’an had done well to appear, she was the one who had led them to safety and, in a sense, had been the rescuer. Never had she imagined herself a heroine in any of the worlds she saw herself on, but here, she was one. Ero’an wrapped an arm around her as the soldiers applauded their appearance, helping them each from the rubble around them.

  “Behold, my savior,” said Ero’an while presenting her to the king and queen who came out to greet them. “My beautiful bride and savior.”

  “Bride?!” yelled Amelia with wide eyes.

  “Will you do me that honor, darling earth woman who has captured my heart?” asked the kneeling prince.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd of soldiers as they awaited Amelia’s response, her eyes only growing wider at the embarrassment she was suffering. She nodded immediately and accepted his kiss while smiling, tears falling freely from her eyes that were doomed to remain wide open in perpetual shock. How had they come to this? And what would it mean? She hadn’t bothered to check in with her home planet, but that smile only pulled her in harder. While studying the features of his face, she became light-headed and fell backwards against the soft and bulbous flowers. Ero’an shook his head and turned to Herman who was scraping stray petals from his skin.

  “It appears I must get us a cushion to carry for her,” commented Ero’an while shaking his head. “I don’t understand why she keeps doing that.”

  “Perhaps it’s the atmosphere, sir,” said Herman while poking his leg. “Here, she loves these particular flowers.”

  Ero’an collected the little bouquet from Herman and then lifted his new bride to carry her into the castle, hoping perhaps rest will do her well. On the way, his parents followed and spoke with the young prince about his future.

  “We absolutely approve of your decision, dear,” said his mother while admiring the sleeping Amelia. “She will do so well to protect our planet.”

  “Indeed. She is quite a spirited earthling. Strong and passionate like us Degaurians,” said the king.

  “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means. She’s been so wonderful,” said Ero’an when they reached his room.

  “We’ll make the arrangements for your wedding,” said his mother.

  “Thank you, Mother,” Ero’an responded with genuine gratefulness, his heart fluttering and giving way to astonishing emotions that he had never before encountered.

  After his parents left them, Ero’an laid Amelia out on the bed and admired her peaceful features. Her chest rose and fell in a regular breathing pattern that inspired him to sigh, stroking her neck as she slept. The war outside had ended and now he could sleep at night knowing that his people were safe. If ever they should need to war again, he knew he had a strong princess at his side who was more than capable of defeating evil species from all over the galaxy. Her strength inspired him to do more, to be better. It was enough to make his heart swell and expand, allowing room for the endless possibilities of love.

  Ero’an stretched out next to her after removing his armor. He continued to admire her face, the image of her lips enough to arouse him. She opened her eyes as he thought this and he blushed with embarrassment, prompting her to question his suddenly flushed face.

  “You turn me on,” he said while nuzzling her neck with his nose. “That’s all.”

  The compliment caused Amelia to smile and she kissed him, running her hands over his bare back and shivering with excitement at the feeling of him nude. She eyed his body and then plunged down the bed to his erect member which twitched in response to her mouth enveloping it. Sliding her tongue over his shaft, she gripped the head with her lips and sucked dutifully, lingering briefly underneath the head and dipping back down to take the entirety of him in her mouth.

  “Oh, darling, please,” he whispered with his hand pressed to the back of her head. “Let me ravish you.”

  “Yes, dear,” replied Amelia as she came up to greet his lips.

  While dueling tongues, she lowered her body gently over his wand and bounced, her hips shaking against his thighs as she rode him like the beast in the fields. Their bodies met heavily with each bounce, the surface of their skin tingling with every touch and kiss. Mouths hung open in ecstasy as she rolled over his body in long strides to cloak every bit of his wand that was begging to burst. Sitting up, she grasped his shoulders and hypnotized him with her gray eyes, the stars inside them twinkling with pleasure and deviance. Focused totally on her, he gripped her hips to help her grind which inspired their moans to grow louder. He kissed the slender column of her throat, tracing her back with his fingernails and pumping hard into her silky insides.

  The sight that joined their heated flesh because increasingly sensitive, her bud blossoming over his tool and tingling with every bounce. Legs entangled, he kneaded into her bosom with his hand and gripped her back with the other to steady her grinding. Their frenzied race to fulfillment was near completion as their moans climaxed, their bodies stiffening beneath the weight of pleasure. Molten waves of bliss suddenly flooded their bodies and they each took turns crying out while gripping each other, their achievement evident. With happy gasps, they fell over on the bed without separating, too wrapped up in the blissful moment to part. Sunlight filtered through the glass and illuminated their sweating forms, which were now fused as one.

  ***

  Some weeks after the wondrous victory of the Degaurians, Amelia was out in the field teaching the young people of the planet how to figh
t with a sword. Her class was mixed with men and women who ranged in age, all of them admiring her as the new princess who had come to save them from the dreadful Ka’lorians. Her hair had faded from purple to blonde, but her beloved prince promised to make a run to Earth soon in order to retrieve the proper supplies to uphold her beautiful image.

  “No matter what,” said Ero’an. “I still think you’re beautiful.”

  The compliment made her flush with endorphins, as she imagined the fun they would have later on when they got back to their bedroom. As she helped a woman gain balance with the sword, she felt something stirring in her gut that made her ill. Nausea swept over her body in cold waves, making her sweat suddenly from the dizziness it was causing. Noticing her discomfort, the woman took her hand and asked if she was alright, to which Amelia responded that she wasn’t sure.

  “Perhaps you are tired from the exchange. We will fetch you some water,” said the woman while helping her sit.

  As the other students ran off to get Amelia some water, she cried out in pain and leaned her head into the bosom of the woman. She gripped her hand, yelling that someone should fetch the prince and take her to the doctor inside the castle. The woman gasped and placed her hand on Amelia’s stomach, which seemed to be vibrating beneath the skin.

  “Send for the prince!” she cried while helping Amelia stand.

  “No, I must sit,” begged Amelia while pulling the woman down.

  “Your majesty, you are in labor,” said the woman. “We have to get you inside before--”

  “Labor?!” cried Amelia while yanking the woman’s arm. “How is that possible?!”

  “Well, you and prince went to bed, I presume, and you--”

  “Not that! How did it happen so soon?” asked the confused princess.

  “Our gestational period is very brief, only a matter of weeks for a typical Degaurian pregnancy. The babies are small, but grow quickly because of--”

  “Never mind that. Get me inside. I feel a breech or something...”

  What was the proper terminology? Amelia had no clue. She only knew that the pain was infinitely stronger than menstruation and it made her knees buckle. Feeling queasy, she doubled over and vomited all over the ground, blue goo oozing over the soil. The flustered prince came running from the gates and helped his princess over the bridge to the infirmary where a doctor waited for them with a smile on his face.

  “Ah, we are to welcome a lovely little prince into the world, eh?” asked the doctor while helping Amelia up on the chair.

  “Don’t talk. Just...get it out,” said Amelia as she propped her legs up in the stirrups. “Oh, no, I’m not even prepared for this. Ero’an!”

  “Yes, my love?” he asked, rubbing her arm.

  “How do I do this?” Amelia asked while tearing up.

  “You’re doing wonderfully. Just keep breathing and we’ll get you through the whole thing,” said Ero’an as the doctor sat in his chair.

  Underneath her legs was a bucket filled with some kind of water, or a thin, clear goo, which was used to transition newborns into the world of the Degaurians. Looking down, Amelia gasped.

  “Is that where it’s going to fall?” she asked Ero’an.

  “Yes, dear. That’s how it’s done,” he replied.

  “But its head,” she said.

  “What head?” asked the doctor and Ero’an in unison.

  Looking between them both, Amelia groaned and cried out again as the labor pains took hold once more, signaling for her to begin pushing. She huffed as she began to push the form out of her body, the limbs feeling extra slippery and slimy which confused her as well as comforted her. Squishy isn’t terrible, she thought. And as long as it doesn’t have tentacles I’m fine. Another wave of pain crashed over her stomach and she screamed, pushing harder than she ever had in her life. The prince remained at her side throughout the ordeal, whispering all manner of encouragements even as they were met with snappy responses and apologies. Rubbing her head, he asked the nurse for warm towels and she obliged, laying them over Amelia’s stomach. It calmed her for a moment and Amelia thanked the nurse, still squeezing Ero’an’s head as more contractions came barreling over her body.

  “I see something here,” said the doctor.

  Another push sent the form flying from her body and landing in the bucket below with a gentle plop. Gasping with relief, Amelia turned to Ero’an to ask what she had just birthed and how in the world that liquid gel helped with the transition. The question left them both as they heard the beginning sounds of crying and then began to weep with joy. Raising up the supple creature, Amelia was met with another wave of relief as she was handed a baby girl with little gills in her neck and no tentacles.

  “No tentacles,” she sighed.

  “Pardon?” asked the doctor.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly while wiping the little girl’s face.

  “She’s beautiful,” Ero’an said as he leaned into his wife. “You did an amazing job. What shall we call her?”

  Amelia thought for a moment and met his cheek with a kiss.

  “Imagica,” she whispered. “I think we should name her Imagica.”

  Swollen with joy, the prince burst into a fit of tears as he laid kisses upon his girls, the stress fading away as he realized his fate had come to fruition. The beautiful family sat for a moment to rest before being moved to another room in order to sleep, nursing their new baby girl with love and affection. It would be the ending of Amelia’s earthly existence, but the beginning of her happy life with the amazing otherworldly prince who was no longer a blundering fool, but a happy one. This joy would carry him through his life and he would bestow it upon each child they had after Imagica, populating their planet with love and strength that would eventually permeate the universe.

  THE END

  = Bonus Book 2 of 8 =

  Mated To Twin Dragon Princes

  Nessa walked down the long, blue, tiled hallway, her heels clicking as she went. She glanced out of the arched window beside her. It was a beautiful day outside—the perfectly manicured landscaping of the university’s lawns was breathtaking—obviously kept up using magic. There were perfectly sculpted box trees tucked in tiny rounded mounds beneath the windows of the buildings, and several large, ancient oak trees that shaded the lawns. The grass was verdant, neatly trimmed. Rose bushes were planted in the perfect places to add that little splash of lush crimson between the enormous stone buildings. It always made her feel like she was in a fairytale castle—the university seemed to be the stuff of myth, brought to life.

  For a moment, she stood, watching students walking quickly, trying to make it in time to their classes. They were dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts, sneakers and flip flops. Oddly enough, they were the ones who seemed out of place. The people for whom this whole place was kept broke its atmosphere.

  She ran a hand over her hair and cursed herself for doing so. She’d spent quite a while curling it earlier, even if it had been done using magic. She wasn’t usually one to get ruffled. She felt confident, but nervous—today was her first lecture on the basics of magic. She was one of the university’s top students, and soon, she would qualify for a professorship. It was long waited-for and well-deserved. All of her hard work, all of her years of hitting the books and practicing her skill—at last, she would have the so coveted position.

  She tugged anxiously on the sleek, fitted pencil skirt of her suit. She wore a matching crimson blazer with a crisp, white oxford shirt. She wore a pair of black stiletto heels. Her hair was styled in blonde beachy waves that fell around her shoulders. She wore a light amount of makeup: liquid black eyeliner, mascara, a dusting of foundation and crimson lipstick. She had spent a long time getting dressed this morning. She had wanted to look professional, yet young and exciting. After all, she was only twenty-seven, and decades younger than her soon-to-be colleagues. Typically, it took ages for someone to qualify for a professorship. It took decades and decades of hard work and preparation. Nessa
was a genius—it had all come early.

  At the tender age of four, she had performed her first successful transfiguration. By the age of ten, she was pulling off complex spell work, things that her mother claimed had taken years to perfect. Her parents had always been proud of her—showing her off to their friends and coworkers. She had been the perfect party entertainment—she would dazzle those gathered with her most recent spell, whether it be glass butterflies, conjured out of the air, or real cotton-candy clouds. She had never failed to impress. She had been both skilled and creative. As soon as she had reached the college, she had continued to wow.

  She paused outside of the door to the lecture hall. She could hear the students inside. They were all freshmen, just arrived at the university in order to begin their magical education. Nessa had arrived early—she had only been fifteen. It had been right after her parents had been killed in an accident. She remembered, for a moment, that first day there. She had sat, horribly nervous and terribly miserable, in her seat in the lecture hall. She had been dressed like any fifteen-year-old, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, trying to blend in with the older college-aged crowd. She looked and felt like a kid. She exhaled. She was a far cry from her fifteen-year-old self. She smiled, letting her confidence fill her.

  She opened the door to the lecture hall, and as she entered, the room went silent. Her students all looked at her with interest. She looked at each one of them, smiling at them warmly.

  “Good morning, I am Nessa Kant,” she said, walking up to the lectern at the front of the large, oak-paneled room. It was filled with desks from wall to wall, and it had a soft maroon carpet. Large, arched windows were set in the walls behind the students.

  She looked around at each of her students in turn. Somewhere around thirty young faces gazed back at her eagerly. Her eyes fell on the man sitting in the front row, to the very left. Nessa frowned. He was clearly a decade older than the others. He grinned at her. She smiled back and nodded. Perhaps he’s an older student? She thought. She had been prepared to teach people younger than she was. She hadn’t expected older learners. He might even be older than I am. She hoped that he wouldn’t give her any trouble. Some people in the faculty were offended by her younger age. They teased her about being the same age as her students. She’d laughed it off, saying that she was at least a decade older than most of the freshmen. This, clearly, changed things. She’d never hear the end of it if any of them found out.

 

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