She sat up straighter. “Parted from them! They’re my children!”
“And I am their father,” he said flatly. “Because your husband no longer lived when they were born aboard my ship, they were Garathani citizens under our laws and I assumed full responsibility for their protection. Your only options were to mate with me or return to Earth without them.”
When her mouth worked soundlessly, he continued, “I chose to withhold the news of our mating to give you time to recover from your loss and get over your fears. You said yourself that you were unreasonably frightened and prejudiced against us.”
“Oh no, you did not just throw my words back in my face. I said that because I trusted you, and look what it got me.”
“Shelley, by protecting you from the news of our mating, you had time to get to know us naturally and came to care for us just as we came to care for you.”
“Oh yeah, you cared for me so much you had to risk my life to turn me into one of you,” she said harshly.
The breath stilled in Cecine’s lungs. “What are you talking about?”
“And now you’re going to act like you don’t know why I turned into a hose hound and started having blackouts and feeling like shit?”
He shook his head. “I don’t.”
“You’re telling me you know nothing about the retrogressive neogenesis?” she asked in a nasty tone.
Cecine swore. “That’s a classified project. Where in Peserin’s name did you hear about it?”
“What does it matter? I know now, and I’m so fucking pissed I’d like to rip your fucking head off, you bastard.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I did care about you, dammit, and I hate you for that.”
“Minister, what is she talking about?”
He glanced up at Hastion, who looked wary now. “A med-science project. But Shelley, that has nothing to do with you. Yes, I ordered you prepared for it, but it hasn’t been initiated and it never will. Once I realized you could take me as you are, I informed Tysan I no longer wished to proceed with it.”
“Bullshit! I’m already starting to go through the transition.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, his patience wearing thin. “You were given a preloading regimen to help you gain weight and prepare you for—”
“What!” she screeched. “You mean you made me fat on purpose?”
“Shelley—”
She punched him hard on the chest. “Jesus Christ, you fucking asshole! I was killing myself trying to keep the weight off. I hardly ate anything and I was starving.”
“You weren’t starving,” Cecine ground out. “You were loaded with calories.”
“I wanted to eat food!” She started beating on his chest with both hands. “I denied myself almost everything I wanted for months and it was for nothing!”
He pulled her against him and held her, his insides tight with regret. “I’m sorry about that, I truly am. But that’s all that was done to you. I swear it on my life.”
“You’re lying.”
“Armitran, summon Dr. Tysan,” he said. “Tell him to flare to this room immediately for an emergency.”
“Affirmative.”
A few seconds later, Tysan appeared, looking harried. “You summoned me, sir?”
“Please explain to Shelley that the retrogressive neogenesis process has not been initiated, that she was only preloaded for the transition.” Then he added darkly, “And when you’re done, I’d like to know how she found out about it in the first place.”
Tysan glanced at her and then sent, “Sir, I was going to request a meeting with you first thing in the morning. There have been some unexpected developments in Ms. Bonham’s case.”
Cecine’s eyes narrowed. “Say it aloud, Tysan. She has a right to know.”
“Sir…” he looked at Shelley again, “…the neogenesis process has initiated.”
“What!” Cecine released Shelley and rose from the bed. “You said you wouldn’t initiate the sequence until after her postpartum exclusion had ended.”
Tysan paled. “I didn’t initiate the sequence, Minister. It appears to have self-initiated.”
“How can a complex genetic resequencing process that’s taken our best scientists ten years to create suddenly initiate itself?” Cecine demanded, his voice rising with every word.
Swallowing audibly, Tysan said, “It appears that she was born with several key evolutionary premutations that were completed by the gene therapy she received after her delivery. As a result, her vomeronasal organ and pheromone receptors are now fully functional, and several prolonged pheromone exposures have initiated her transition. Her body is determined to grow, but her growth plates are still fused and her bones are bulging under the stress. That’s what’s causing her skeletal pain. We must initiate the retrogressive phase or she will eventually die.”
“Die!” Cecine roared. At Shelley’s cry of alarm, something sharp sliced its way through his midsection, leaving him breathless and panicked. “Reverse the damned process! I won’t risk her life.”
“I am sorry to say there is no reversing the process, sir. Her transition must proceed.”
Cecine grabbed the doctor by two handfuls of his uniform and shoved him against the wall. “How in the name of all the Powers can this have happened? Her life was never supposed to be in jeopardy.”
Tysan’s features tightened. “With all due respect, Minister, you knew the risks involved in the neogenesis process when you authorized the preloading regimen. I believe your exact words were ‘I’m certain you’ll do everything in your power to mitigate them.’”
Cecine flinched. Releasing the doctor, he shoved his hands through his hair without looking at Shelley. “Peserin’s hell.”
“Sir, even the gene therapy, for all the good it does, poses certain risks,” Tysan said in a less accusatory tone. “Each being is unique and we cannot anticipate every possible combination of mutations and premutations that might arise in a patient, much less which of them a targeted garavirus might replicate to. But as with Terran vaccines, the benefits far outweigh the risks and so we administer them, almost exclusively without incident.”
If Tysan was trying to make him feel better, he’d failed. “What are her odds of a successful transition?”
“All of the test subjects so far have been either brain dead or in a permanent vegetative state—none have been so young and healthy to begin with. I believe her odds are much better than any of the test subjects.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid it will have to be. I would suggest we remove her to the Heptoral med lab to commence the retrogression.”
“How soon?”
“The sooner the better, sir. I wouldn’t wait more than a few days.”
Cecine nodded. “It shall be as you say.”
Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
The minister was not just walking away from this.
“Stay with her,” Hastion ordered Tysan. Then he went after Cecine. He caught up to him in the great room and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.
“Why?”
The minister shook him off with a dark look. “Watch yourself, Ensign.”
“Tell me why you would do this!”
“That should be obvious.”
“It’s not. Explain it to me.”
“I don’t care for your attitude,” Cecine said sharply.
Hastion took an aggressive step forward. “I don’t care for the fact that you would put her through this.”
“I’m not putting her through this. The process initiated on its own as a result of her gene therapy.”
“But you would have authorized it.”
“Not if it meant risking her life.”
Before he realized what he was doing, Hastion had Cecine against one of the support columns with a forearm across his neck. “You just admitted you dismissed the risk!”
Cecine pried at his arm. “At the time, I deemed the benefit
s worth the risk,” he ground out.
Hastion saw red. He drew his fist back and slammed it forward with all his strength. Cecine ducked out of his hold and it hit the stone column, sending pain screaming up his arm.
Whirling, he shook his hand out. “You unmitigated bastard!”
“I won’t fight you, Hastion.”
“Fine, then I’ll just beat you bloody.” Hastion tackled him, knocking him to the floor.
Cecine rolled to the side, but Hastion threw his body atop him and managed to land several punches. His entire being pulsed with rage and disappointment and loss so profound he could hardly stand it, and yet once again, this honest confrontation, the physical proximity, sent a thrill of unforgivable heat through him. They rolled across the tiled floor, locked together more intimately than they’d ever been while fucking. When Cecine finally pinned him, Hastion refused to yield, heaving and jerking his body this way and that to buck him off.
Breathing heavily in his ear, Cecine slowly lifted his head and Hastion cursed his mindless body that was so aroused by the contact even as fury raged and his heart ached.
“I wouldn’t risk her now, for any reason,” Cecine panted. “Believe that, if nothing else.”
Hastion stared at the minister’s parted lips, cursing the Powers that would put them so nearly within his reach. Their proximity teased him, and for a long moment he wanted nothing more than to lift his head and capture them while he could.
Then he realized what he was doing and forced his gaze upward, horrified at what his expression might have revealed and praying to the Powers Cecine hadn’t noticed.
The Powers apparently weren’t in an accommodating mood. Cecine looked startled, frowning as he searched Hastion’s face.
“Hastion…” he whispered.
Then Cecine lowered his head and captured Hastion’s lower lip between his.
Hastion felt as though he’d been spaced. Every bit of air was sucked from his lungs, and for a moment he didn’t react. Then razor-sharp need ripped through him and he gasped, trying to pull away, terrified by his loss of control and by what he might do next, but Cecine followed with a groan, clinging to his lips.
His persistence was all it took. Abandoning the fight, Hastion kissed him back with every ounce of longing he felt. Finally. Finally.
After what might have been seconds or hours, Cecine raised his head slowly, still sucking on Hastion’s lower lip, drawing it out almost to the point of pain before releasing it. He stared down at Hastion with a mix of amazement, dismay and consternation, digging into his soul, and suddenly Hastion realized just how vulnerable he was. He bucked again, desperate to escape that searching look, but Cecine clung tightly, slamming Hastion’s wrists against the wood floor. The pain in his knuckles sent a shock wave of arousal through his body.
When Cecine leaned down to kiss him again, Hastion turned away, filled with dread. If he gave the minister this, he’d have nothing left.
Cecine released one of his hands and seized his chin in a crushing grip, forcing his face up again.
“I’ve been blind, haven’t I? This is what you need.”
Hastion felt sick, and yet exhilarated, as Cecine held him in place and kissed him harder this time, forcing his mouth open, spearing into him with his tongue and eating at his mouth. Hastion writhed helplessly, his body on fire, his cock near to exploding. Oh Peserin, he could come…
Cecine ground his hips against him and Hastion felt a hardness that rivaled his own. They thrust roughly into one another, Hastion gasping, Cecine growling.
Releasing his chin, Cecine moved down his throat, sucking and biting so brutally that Hastion fought to hold back whimpers of pained ecstasy. Peserin, he was being marked. Everyone would see the marks and know, and the knowledge only sent his arousal higher.
Cecine let go of his other wrist and shoved Hastion’s tunic up roughly, then pulled it off over his head. He looked down, his eyes filled with dark intent, and then lowered his head and began biting Hastion’s pectoral muscle, sucking hard and no doubt drawing a pool of blood to the surface. Hastion dared to grab two handfuls of that beautiful, tousled hair, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth against the urge to scream. But he couldn’t help writhing as he clutched at the crisp warmth tangled around his fingers.
When Cecine’s teeth clamped on his nipple, a yelp escaped him. Then the biting turned to tongue-lashing and sucking, and a spear of hot, tingling sensation stabbed his balls. Panicking, he tried to push Cecine away but Cecine backed off only long enough to tear Hastion’s hands from his head and pin his wrists to the floor by his head. Then he attacked the other nipple, rocking his hips, grinding their cocks together without mercy.
Hastion’s splayed legs shook and his eyes rolled back. “Oh Peserin,” he gasped.
The world inside his head contracted into a pinprick of light and then exploded outward, consuming him completely as spasms of violent release racked his body.
Cecine stared down at the ensign, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. He’d pushed up and locked his arms when he sensed something going awry, and for a moment he’d believed Hastion was having a seizure of some sort. His head was thrown back and his face was contorted as though he were in agony, eyes closed and jaw tightly clenched.
Then he felt the subtle jerking against his groin and comprehension dawned. He raised his hips and looked down in time to see a dark stain bloom just under the waistband of Hastion’s mabi pants.
“By all the Powers…” he whispered. How was this possible?
After an endless moment, Hastion finally collapsed beneath him, still twitching, breathing roughly through his nose as intermittent spasms continued to quake through him. Though his dismay was evident in his expression, he showed no signs of feeling the same surprise Cecine did.
“You ejaculated,” Cecine said, displaying his grasp of the obvious. “Without any sort of penetration at all.”
A frown creased Hastion’s brow and he turned his head slightly to the side, but he made no reply.
“Have you nothing to say, Ensign?”
He jerked against Cecine’s restraining hands. “Let me up.”
“I don’t believe I will. Not until you explain.”
Finally he opened his eyes, revealing the blue fire of resentment. “What is there to explain? I ejaculated.”
“Why are you angry?”
“Because of what you did to Shelley,” he explained with the exaggerated patience of a father addressing a youngling.
“I’m talking about this.” Cecine glanced down at the spreading stain.
“It’s irrelevant.”
Cecine gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Irrelevant! You accomplished something no other Garathani male has ever managed—and, unless I miss my guess, not for the first time—and you call it irrelevant?”
“It’s my body, sir, and my business.”
“You don’t deny it’s happened before.”
Hastion continued to glare at him. “Just once.”
“And you didn’t think it worth mentioning to anyone?”
“I say again, sir, it’s my body and my business.”
Cecine narrowed his eyes. “When did it happen?” When Hastion didn’t answer, he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “How long have you known this was possible, Ensign?”
“Since the night I served you on the beach,” Hastion said through gritted teeth.
Confused, Cecine frowned. “What happened that night?”
“You know what happened, sir. You were there.”
Understanding continued to elude him. “I was there?”
Hastion strained against his hold again. “Let me up and I’ll explain.”
“You’ll explain where you are.”
Giving an annoyed sigh, he said, “I finished when you finished, sir.”
“You…” Cecine’s eyes widened. “When you were choking?”
Hastion just looked at him.
“But I didn’t touch yo
u.”
“Oh, you touched me, sir.” His voice was heavy with irony. “You held my head and shoved your cock all the way down my throat. Now if you would be so kind as to get off me before Tysan comes down and sees us like this…”
Too stunned to object, his thoughts spinning wildly, Cecine loosened his grip and reared back. Hastion immediately scuttled backward and jumped to his feet, snatching his tunic off the floor as he went.
“If that will be all, sir,” he said, pulling it on over his head. He walked away without waiting for a reply.
Cecine sat there on his heels, his hands resting on his splayed knees, and stared unseeing at the antique ceremonial drums mounted on the wall. Hastion had accomplished the seemingly impossible. Twice. Both times during encounters with him. What did it mean?
Hastion mounted the stairs three at a time and strode down the corridor toward his bedchamber. As was typical of his luck, Shelley’s door opened and Tysan emerged. Hastion pulled his tunic down to hide the stain but there would be no hiding the marks darkening on his neck or the odor of his seed. Peserin only knew what Tysan would make of them.
“Is she all right?” he asked quietly after the door had closed.
“She’s calmed quite a bit, but I don’t believe she’s quite ready to receive either of you yet.” Tysan’s nostrils flared and his eyes widened as he made a quick head-to-toe inspection of Hastion.
Acutely conscious of the cool semen creeping down onto his scrotum, Hastion flushed painfully. “Can I see her tomorrow?”
“I expect so, but you must be patient with her.”
“Of course.”
Tysan inclined his head and then turned. “I should go make my report to the minister.”
“Tysan…” when the doctor paused, Hastion’s face burned even hotter, “…would you have time to accelerate the healing of a number of contusions?”
“Certainly.”
When they reached the privacy of his room, Hastion stripped off his tunic and turned to face Tysan, focusing on the wall over his shoulder. Part of him mourned the loss of the marks, but the greater part of him was relieved. They shamed him, and he didn’t want to feel shame. He wanted to proudly wear the marks of a male who cared for him as deeply as Shauss cared for Tiber.
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