Ah. The tiny scrap of fabric that covered her cunt. He enjoyed how her juices soaked the fabric but such a covering was not necessary. “No,” he said.
“No?” A hand went to her hip, all attitude and ready to fight. Adorable.
“In the bath,” he said. With a firm hand, he removed the sheet. Taking a step back, he admired his bond mate.
She was intoxicating, all soft curves and smooth skin. Her little human hands and feet were fascinating. How could something that small be useful? Or even keep her upright? It seemed a design flaw.
She pulled her dark hair over one shoulder, covering her scars.
“Don’t,” he said, pushing her hair back to expose those scars.
“They’re ugly,” she said, face turned away. “I’m ugly.”
“Lies.” His dark fingers skated along the raised scars, the marks pale against her skin but turning the palest golden where he touched. She acted ashamed of where the fire branded her but her shame was misguided. She was made for the fire valos in every way. He would show her.
Asche pressed his lips to her shoulder, kissing the scars. She gasped at the contact. Her cool skin drew the heat out of him. He wrinkled his nose. “You stink like ferix.”
Lucie pulled away. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Bath. Now.”
Her back straightened, and her eyes flashed, but she obeyed. Her body responded the same when Sarsen gave orders. Most intriguing, her musk filled the air.
Lucie eased herself into the bathing pool. It was shallow for a valo but wide. For a human, the water came up to mid-chest. The ends of her dark hair fanned out in the water, like wings. Human hair fascinated him. A thick coat covered her head, and a fine layer covered her entire body, but it was not noticeable until he got very close. The fragrant dark curls covering her sex held the most appeal to him.
“Is it cold?” he asked.
“No.”
Excellent. He eased himself in behind her.
She stiffened and pulled away. “What are you doing?”
“Washing you.”
“I can wash myself.” She turned to take the sponge from him, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts, wet and glistening. His appreciation rumbled in his throat and her nipples hardened in response. One arm crossed over her chest to shield herself but did a poor job. All it did was squish her breasts together and lift them. “This isn’t like you.”
“I disagree. This is very much like me.” Impulsive. Impatient. If he waited for Ertale to discuss their mating or for Sarsen to even say a kind word, his fires would grow cold. “Now will you let me wash your back or will you continue to hold up your breasts like a tray of confections?”
Her face turned a fierce pink and she turned around quickly, water swishing. He took the cloth and soap and set to washing her back. Asche marveled at her remarkably soft yet resilient skin. She did not protest his touch, even when it lingered long enough to burn. He knew that if he held delicate material long enough it would scorch and burn, but Lucie did not complain. This was another sign she was meant for them.
His soapy hands slid over her shoulders and across her collarbones. Leaning over her shoulder, he lathered her breasts. The way she sucked in her breath did not escape his notice. Her nipples puckered, but he resisted the temptation to pinch and roll them. He continued to lather down her soft stomach.
When his hands reached the juncture of her thighs, they parted in invitation. His hand cupped the curls covering the mound of her sex. “Is this what you desire? Your male to take what is his?”
Her back arched into him. Yes, she desired.
His lips pressed the back of her neck. “You will accept all of us or none of us.”
Her back stiffened. “Is that the price of my staying here? I have to have sex with all of you? Be your wife or something?”
“You are our bond mate.” He explained this once. How did she not understand? “We are one tribe.”
Lucie pushed away, water surging between them. She turned, covering her heavy breasts with one arm and doing it poorly. “I’m really not in the mood for your we-are-one speech. I don’t buy it. Nothing’s free. Is sex or is sex not the price of staying here?”
“Are humans so callous that they do not help those who need it without payment?”
“Just the humans on this planet.”
He tilted his head, considering his bond mate. Instinct told him to surge forward, take her in his arms and make her understand the nature of their bond, but she was a wounded being. She bore the outward scars on her soft skin but also carried them within her.
“You only want me because I’m the only woman,” she said.
“We had females,” Asche said, to clear up his mate’s confusion.
“But not now.”
“Not for 242 seasons but even when they were here, I was not interested.” Lucie was the first female to stir his fire, ever.
“Not interested? Like you were asexual?” Her eyes went wide with an idea. “Was it the heartstones?”
The removal of the heartstones did not stop that impulse. Asche had been numb to those desires, though. “No. Some shared physical comfort with each other, even had children but that was not for me. I suspect it was a by-product of Sarsen losing his first mate.”
“Wait, what?”
This conversation proved more difficult than he expected. He moved toward her, bringing a comb to her hair. The wet strands were silky and dried with his touch. The temporary feeling of the wet strands between his fingers was alluring.
“The female population in our tribe had always been unbalanced. There were roughly three males to every female.”
“Why was that?”
“I do not know. It had always been so. It was the practice for a female to take several mates. Three, in fact.”
“A triad.”
“Yes. You have heard us use this term. Good. This structure had many advantages to share the burden of work, childrearing, and safety if something happened to a member of the triad.”
“Like lava monsters?”
“Yes.” Technically there had been no lava monsters, or ferix, before the Creators arrived, but the specifics didn’t add meaning to his story. “Sarsen had his own mate and triad when the Creators arrived.”
“I can guess what happened to them,” she said, voice grim.
“Nothing pleasant. Sarsen was very low at their loss. I feared he would not survive without the support of a new triad, so we formed one without the intention of taking a new mate.”
“Seems cruel to force him to go on living when he might have wanted to die with them.” She shuddered at the thought. His Lucie had a compassionate heart.
“He was my friend,” Asche answered, truthfully. “And I did not want to be alone.”
Lucie turned, water swirling. Her eyes were bright. The scars on her neck and shoulder burned faintly from his touch. She was beautiful.
“Is that what I am to you? A chance to not be alone?”
He pressed her hand to his heartstone. “Our hearts beat in the same rhythm. You alone burned away the numbness inside me. You are the first female I have ever desired.” He refused to let his mate denigrate herself by thinking their attraction was proximity, convenience or loneliness. She was so much greater than all those excuses. “If the city were to come alive with Fire Valos once more, only you would catch my eye. My heart only beats for you.”
“Asche—” Her eyes softened. “I really like you. I do. And I’d totally be down for this, whatever this is, but it’s not just you, is it? It’s a package deal. All of you—”
“Or none of us,” he said.
“I don’t know that I can do that.”
Lucinda
Apparently her guys were taking turns babysitting her. She couldn’t be trusted not to let herself get eaten by beasties and things that went bump in the night.
She and Asche collected the scattered radio parts and packs. Finding a way to contact home grew more improb
able every day, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Not until she tried everything.
Find the survivors. Contact Earth. Go home. Make it so that the people on her list could never hurt anyone ever again. She’d go back to prison, but it’d be worth it.
Protect Antony and the kids. Every time she repeated her list, they fell further and further behind. Protecting the little that remained of her family was all that motivated her. It always had. If a few greedy corporate board members had to suffer, so be it.
She needed a way into that tower.
“I need a work space,” Lucie said. “Some place away from lava monsters.”
“There are many workshops on the lowest level. One will suit your purpose.”
“Hmm. But what if I injure myself? Humans are clumsy. We bleed. A lot.” Just wait until they encountered menstruation. “I was on the ground level, and those things found me.”
“Ferix.” The bitter word fell from Asche’s lips.
“Maybe somewhere up high? So the scent of blood doesn’t carry. The air up there is easier to breathe, too.” Lucie scanned the city’s skyline, acting as if she didn’t have the perfect place picked out. She landed on the tower, a great silver spire with a bulb at the midway point. “How about that?”
Asche followed her gaze. “That would serve.”
Accessing the tower involved two levitating platforms and a short bridge. A heavy metal door barred access. Lucie pulled on the massive handle and found it locked. “What’s up there?”
“I do not know. It was for the Creators only.”
“No valos allowed, huh?” Sounds like it had just the equipment she needed. She ran her hand along the frame, looking for a keypad or a lock. She touched the handle again. On the back side was a sharp spike. If she had grabbed this part of the handle—
She knew what she needed to do. Only a Creator’s blood unlocked the Vault to keep the valos out. Logically a Creator’s blood would work for all other locks.
“Oh, it’s not that easy, is it?” She wrapped her hand around the handle and felt the spike dig in. “You’re not going to be happy with me.” She pulled. The spike dug in, splashing a few drops of her blood on the mechanism. The door unlocked. Sheenika had a serious blood fetish, bleeding all over the place.
“You injured yourself.” Asche moved to take her hand.
“It’s fine.”
The ground floor of the tower held only a metal spiral staircase. Placed in vertical formation, sunstones illuminated the space. The stones’ normally warm light was cold. Lucie shivered.
“It is not fine. You will attract ferix or worse. And now you are cold.”
“Isn’t that why we here? To be above all that.” Lucie climbed the steps.
The steps were designed for a person with longer legs. Lucie panted and her calves burned by the time she reached the control room. That was the only way to describe it. Banks of electronics lined the curved walls. Light, true sunlight, filtered in through glass planes. If she couldn’t repair the radio—and she probably couldn’t—she could figure out how to contact the survivors. Maybe even Earth. Somehow. Earth didn’t exactly have an interstellar rescue hotline.
“This is perfect.”
Before she could explore, Asche grabbed her hand and pulled her close for inspection. The jab wasn’t bad, not really, and it had mostly stopped bleeding.
He frowned. “This is the third time you’ve injured yourself.”
“It’s fine.”
“It is not. You are incapable of preventing harm to yourself.” His dark fingers brushed across her palm, sending little sparks up her arm.
“I’m not the one who decided to use a blood-key to lock all the doors,” she said.
“Remain here.” Asche dropped her hand, and she immediately missed the contact. “Do not touch anything. I will retrieve medical supplies.”
“Fine, I can’t think with you hovering over my shoulder.” Once he left, she’d get time to explore.
“Do you hunger? Is that why your mood has turned sour? You need food. I will bring food.”
“Oh my God, I’m fine. Just leave already.”
“I will return with food.” Asche hustled out the door and down the metal stairs, each step ringing out on the treads.
Her palm tingled where he touched her. A warm, fluttery feeling shifted in her gut that had nothing to do with the bath, the way he caressed her or the way she checked out his butt as he left the room.
Asche was a fire elemental alien, or something very similar. Of course her skin tingled where they touched. He lived and breathed fire. If he touched something for too long, he scorched it. Hell, she’d seen the rain literally steam off Sarsen when they were tromping through the forest. The bath practically boiled with Asche in it.
Huh. The bath was boiling but she hadn’t turned pink. She hadn’t even felt uncomfortable. The water had been warm, soothing and just right.
And boiling.
Last night Ertale held her for hours until she calmed down, but he didn’t burn her. Her dress, however, had scorch marks where they made contact, but she was unscathed, which made no sense at all. She wasn’t fire resistant. Right?
The serum.
During the crash, Lucie had jabbed herself with the concoction intended for Lydia. Still, that didn’t mean she could shoot fireballs. Lydia had been selected based on her genetic profile, and the serum designed just for her DNA.
Lucie should receive no benefit at all. None. Yet here she was in a city inside a volcano, not even breaking a sweat. Halliday, stupid Halliday, had been red-faced and ready to pass out from heat exhaustion. Lucie actually felt a little chilly at night in her big empty bed.
The doctors had wanted to turn Lydia into a human fireball. Maybe—
Lucie held out her hand and stared, willing herself to produce flames.
Nothing.
Maybe starting with a fireball was too big. She needed to think smaller. She focused on the tip of her finger, willing a spark or flame, even the ripple of superheated air. Focusing on fire, she brought out memories of campfires and the way a candle flame danced in an air draft.
Still nothing.
Okay, maybe thinking wasn’t good enough. Maybe she needed to get physical. Lucie stretched out her fingers, the ligaments flexing, and moved her hands as if she held an invisible ball. She moved the ball slowly to her chest, inhaling and focusing on fire. Exhaling, she pushed the ball forward. Again. Inhale, pull the ball in; exhale, push the ball away. Think fire. Think warm. Hot. Burning. Scorching.
Hands full of imaginary fire, she flung the ball away.
“What are you doing?”
Lucie jumped, burning red in embarrassment. On reflex, she pulled her hair over her burn scars. Sarsen leaned against the doorway, a sardonic smile on his stupid, handsome face. “Nothing,” she said quickly.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” He prowled around her, nostril flaring as he breathed in. Briefly, so quick it nearly escaped her notice, his cruel smile was replaced by a genuine expression of delight.
Which made no sense, now that she thought about it. Valos didn’t breathe, he said. They didn’t eat or drink, either. So what was he smelling? And what was he smiling about?
“Were you trying to make a fireball?”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. He saw through her lie immediately.
Sarsen laughed. At her.
“Stop it,” Lucie hissed, temper getting the better of her. She didn’t like being teased. Kids teased her when she was young. Adults mocked her. Well, she wouldn’t let Sarsen mock her now. She hadn’t been acting foolish. She had been perfectly reasonable— scientific, even— in her exploration of the effects of the serum. “It’s not funny.”
“It is not.” He took her hand and turned it over, revealing her newest injury. “Is my brother so careless that he cannot keep you from bleeding?”
“It’s fine.” She pulled her hand away, hiding it behind her back.
“It is not. Thi
s room was locked.” His nostrils flared again. “You think you can come in here and steal valos secrets? Is that what you wanted to find in this room?”
“I don’t want to steal your stupid secret. I want to go home.”
“This is your home,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist. He applied pressure but not enough to hurt, not really.
“Oh, right. We’re one now.”
With a snarl, he slapped her hand over his chest. Lucie took in a ragged breath as her heartbeat synced perfectly with the pulsing of his heartstone. “One,” he said.
“That means nothing.” She twisted out of his grip.
“Nothing? Nothing! You came here without invitation, and you did this to me.”
“You didn’t have to take the stone from me.” This was not her fault. She didn’t know. He had surprised her in the vault, and she didn’t want him to think she stole it. Of all the terrible things she’d done, theft was not one.
He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her in. Heat poured off him in waves. “You do not dangle meat in front of the ak’rena and act surprised when it bites.”
Lucie kicked her chin up, willfully ignoring the ache between her thighs. What was wrong with her? He was wrong for her; rude, barbaric and just plain mean. Her traitorous body responded to him with a burning need.
Her body sucked at picking guys. He was the worst, just the worst. She wasn’t even attracted to him, she desperately reasoned with herself. This was just her body responding to four years in prison with no physical contact. Asche had ramped her up that morning and then left her hanging. She was horny. It wasn’t real. Her nipples hardening as they pressed against his broad chest was not real and her pussy growing wet was so not real…
Sarsen sniffed the air again.
Fuck. She wasn’t wearing panties. She’d been going commando for days. No panties in Sonhadra, apparently.
“You bound me and my brothers to you, and now you plan to leave,” he said. His words were bitter, but underneath hid a layer of hurt. She could hear it but only cared enough to recognize it as a tool.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a grumpy jerk all the time and gave me a reason to want to stay—”
He slammed his lips down over hers, devouring her. She melted into him, arms snaking behind his neck and pulling herself up on her tiptoes. His large hands scooped her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist. That little loincloth did nothing to hide his hard cock pressing against her. She squirmed, wanting to feel more, but the fabric of her gown created a cock-blocking barrier.
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