by Ashley West
Malachi wanted to say he couldn't believe it either, but the fact was, he could. The Alva were cruel and what they lacked in intelligence they made up for with more cruelty. What they had discovered about the plan fit with that perfectly.
Humans were violent, seemingly by nature, but they usually just fought each other. And now the Alva were trying to pit them against the Randoran. There was no way the humans would stand a chance, but they all knew that wasn't the point. The point was to use the humans as living shields to keep themselves safe longer. Until they could run away or come up with a plan of attack.
The General wouldn't be happy. That much was for sure. Their mission here was to save the humans from the Alva, but the larger mission was to stop the Alva in general. Malachi didn't want to think about what would happen if the two became a conflict of interests.
If he was ordered to kill humans he didn't think he could go through with it. Especially not after promising Emma he'd save her people. Even if things were odd between them at the moment, that was a promise he intended to keep.
It seemed that their group had gotten lucky, as the other group had been forced to kill their target before they could even ask anything, and by the time they were heading back to the ship, it was growing dark. The cycles of light and dark on Earth were still strange, and Malachi wasn't used to having so little daylight.
As soon as they stepped back onto the ship, exhaustion seemed to catch up with him, and he sighed. Priya stepped into the main area, looking concerned, and Malachi let someone else fill her in. He needed to bathe himself.
Much as he didn't want to, and he really didn't want to, Malachi found himself thinking about what Thyrra had said as he bathed. The humans were going to be used against them, but there was no way Emma had been aware of that, right?
According to what they'd been told, when the humans were taken, they were examined, looked over to see if they'd be of any use. If not, they went in the cages. If so, they were trained. That must have been what happened to all the humans that weren't accounted for. They were somewhere being trained by the Alva to fight.
If they made it seem like the only way to survive, and if they had the leverage of holding loved ones in the cages, Malachi was sure the Alva could make the humans fight for them.
They were sending them to their deaths, and it was horrible.
He needed to tell Emma. If only so he could make sure that she didn't have family that had been snatched. And maybe a little so he could see what her reaction to it all would be.
Deep down he knew Thyrra was wrong about her, but he just...needed to be sure. And he missed her.
It was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, and he didn't know what to do about any of them.
Once he was clean, he dried off and got dressed and then went in search of food.
"What are you going to tell the General?" Hapt wanted to know.
Malachi sighed. "I haven't decided yet. The truth, of course, but I'll figure out how in the morning."
He could clearly hear the weariness in Malachi's tone because he nodded respectfully and withdrew. Everyone left him alone for the rest of the meal, and when he rose from the table, no one stopped him.
Going to bed sounded lovely, but first he wanted to check on Emma. Even if she was mad at him, he cared about her safety.
A knock on the door got no answer, and, telling himself he was doing it because he was concerned, Malachi found the button to override the door and pressed it.
When it slid open, he stepped into the room and glanced around. Moonlight spilled in from the window, turning the floor and covers on the bed an eerie silver. Emma was curled up under the covers, tucked into a ball and clearly shaking.
Malachi blinked in the darkness and took another step closer to the bed, reaching out a hand. As she did, a small whimper tore from Emma's throat, and it hit him somewhere painful.
"Daniel," she murmured, sounding like she was crying. "Daniel, please. Please help me. I can't...I wanna go home."
She sounded so young and so scared in that moment, and Malachi wanted to pull her close and fight off whatever was upsetting her. Lacking the ability to do that, he bent down over the bed and smoothed her hair out of her face. "Hey," he murmured, voice gentle. "Emma, it's alright. You're just having a nightmare. Wake up now."
She thrashed a bit in the bed, more fearful sounds falling from her lips before she came awake under his hand with a start, eyes wild as she glanced around.
"Malachi?" Emma asked, and she sounded out of breath.
"Yes," he said, removing his hand and backing up. "You were having a nightmare."
Gradually her breathing slowed, and she pressed one hand over her heart and rubbed at her face with her other hand.
"Are you alright?" Malachi asked when she didn't speak, and when she looked at him, it was easy to tell that she was crying. There was much that he didn't know about her, that he didn't understand about what she'd been through, but there was enough that he did know that it wasn't hard to understand why she was upset. Maybe dreaming about being captured by the Alva, maybe missing her family.
Emma shook her head and swallowed hard. "I'm alone," she said, voice soft and tremulous.
"I...know you aren't very fond of me right now, but I am right here," Malachi pointed out, feeling a bit hurt.
"I don't mean right now," Emma said, sniffing. "I mean in general. I'm...everything is wrong."
He hadn't meant to stay. He'd only wanted to check on her, but now he felt like he needed to stay with her. If she wanted him to. "How do you mean?"
"It's stupid," she murmured.
"I'm sure it's not. If it's causing you pain, then it means something, even if it only means something to you."
She blinked at him, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Malachi couldn't help himself. Seeing her so upset wrenched at something inside of him. He reached down to cup the side of her face with one hand, his thumb brushing her tears away. It wouldn't have surprised him if she'd jerked away from him, not wanting to be touched, but she didn't. Instead, she leaned her face against his palm and nuzzled it gently, looking a bit like a stray who was desperate for affection.
He realized the metaphor wasn't that far off the mark.
"Would you like to tell me about it?" Malachi asked. "I would be willing to listen if you wanted to talk."
She swallowed again, and her eyes slid away from him as she seemed to consider that. Had she ever talked about the way she felt before? Malachi couldn't imagine that there had been anyone to talk to when she was in the clutches of the Alva, and it was likely that so much had built up in her by now that she wanted to get rid of.
Malachi could do that much for her.
Finally she nodded and slid over in the bed, making room for him. Malachi gave her a tiny smile and sat down beside her, reaching for one of her hands slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. Emma didn't pull away, though, and when he took her hand in his, he could feel it trembling. "Tell me," he said softly, prompting her to speak.
She took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself, and then she began to talk.
He listened as she poured her story out, all of it, starting from when she was a child. Malachi learned about how she was when she was younger, how she used to be happy and bright. He learned about her brother and how close the two of them had been. How he'd died, leaving a hole in Emma's life that it didn't seem like she'd ever been able to fill. On some level he could understand. If anything ever happened to his own brother, he didn't know how he would be able to go on like things were normal.
The picture she painted as she spoke was one he could see clearly. He saw her younger, a bright smile on her face as she sang and played and shined. And then he saw tragedy strike and saw that light dim.
"My parents and I kept going, though," Emma told him. "We tried. They were better at it than I was, but I tried, too. And then the Alva came." Her voice was heavy with bitterness. "I remember going to my parents' hou
se as fast as I could and telling them what was happening. We watched it on the news and we planned to leave. I needed to go back to my apartment to get my things, and I told them to go without me. I didn't want them to have to wait. By the time I got back, the house was on fire, and they were gone."
"And you never followed them," Malachi murmured. It wasn't an accusation, just obvious fact. She was still here, and they weren't.
Emma shook her head. "I was scared at first. Everything was chaos. People were dying and things were burning, and...I didn't want to be in it. I hid in my apartment until I needed food."
Her explanation also gave him a good picture of what had happened to this city with the Alva there. Eventually things had calmed down, Emma was able to go out without as much fear. And then they had taken her.
"It grabbed me before I could do anything," she whispered to him. "I was so afraid. I didn't...I felt like I couldn't breathe. I screamed and cried, and nothing. They just. Threw me in that cage."
Malachi blinked, and it occurred to him to ask her if there had been some sort of examination first. They had obviously deemed her unfit to fight for them, and he wondered if she knew that. It was the wrong time to bring it up, though. He knew that. So instead he reached over and stroked her hair gently, letting her lean into him so he could offer what comfort he could.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry that happened to you and that there was no one there to save you."
She pressed her face against his neck, and he could feel her crying all over again, her body trembling. Malachi just held her close, stroking her hair and then down her back, just letting her get it out.
Minutes passed steadily, neither of them moving or speaking until Emma sniffled and then lifted her head. "Kiss me."
"Emma," Malachi said, startled.
"Please? I just..."
He sighed, pulling away from her a bit. "Emma, I don't think-"
She frowned at him. "Is this your thing, doubting that people know what they want when they ask for it?"
"You're upset," he pointed out. "And you're still mad at me about the last time."
"Because you won't listen! I'm sitting here telling you what I want, and you won't listen. I'm not a child, Malachi. I don't need you to coddle me. I just...I like you, and I really want to feel something else besides scared and alone right now. Please."
When she put it like that, it was hard to deny her. And he hadn't really wanted to in the first place because he did want her. Malachi hadn't been able to get their last encounter out of his head, and he'd woken plenty of times in the morning to find himself hard and thinking about her, and it had taken a momentous force of will to keep him from getting himself off to the thoughts of the way she'd been so small and beautiful under him.
He opened his mouth to ask her if she was sure, but something about the look in her eyes told him that if he asked that, she was going to punch him. So instead he let out his breath in a messy rush and cupped her face again.
His thumb slid over her cheekbone and then down, over her bottom lip. Her lips parted, and he could feel the warmth of her breath and see how green her eyes were in the moonlight.
He wanted her.
Carefully, he lowered his head, giving her time to change her mind. Instead, she met him halfway, mashing their mouths together in an inelegant kiss that was more frantic, desperate brushes of lips than anything else.
It wouldn't do.
Malachi pulled back just a bit and then tried again, kissing her slow and deep, using his lips and tongue to beseech her to let him lead. If she wanted to feel something else, he could give her that, but not at breakneck pace. No, this would be slower, deeper, something she would feel all the way through her body, not leaving room for anything else.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth and laid claim to it, slowly stroking her tongue with his, tasting everything she had to offer. Her hands found their way up, and they wound into his braids, holding him fast to her.
That was just fine with him, and he let out a rumble of approval, which she reciprocated with a soft whine of pleasure.
Emma shifted against the bed, and Malachi let his free hand roam. It slipped under her nightshirt and found the warm softness of her breasts, full and perky. He thumbed lightly at first one nipple and then the other, feeling them pebble under his touch. That little whine turned into a moan, and she arched her back enough that he had more access to her chest.
But it wasn't enough, not yet.
Malachi drew back, enjoying her kiss bruised lips and the dazed look on her face. "Lift your arms for me," he murmured softly, and when she obeyed, he drew her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing anything else, save her underwear, and he made an approving noise. "Beautiful."
Instead of going for her mouth again, he went for her neck this time, pressing open mouthed kisses from her jaw down to her collarbone. Malachi tugged her closer, until she was in his lap, legs spread on either side of his. She was so small, and mostly naked, and there was a thrill in being so much larger than her and fully clothed. From the way Emma's breathing kicked up a notch and her pulse fluttered at her neck, he could tell she was affected by it, as well.
Her breasts were lovely, just as pale as the rest of her, topped with dusky pink nipples that were small and tight with her desire. Malachi let one hand cover each one, and Emma pressed her chest into his hands, humming contentedly.
He lowered his head, dropping a kiss to each soft mound and then traveled lower, kissing and licking at the hard little buds of her nipples until Emma gasped for him. "Malachi," she moaned softly. "Feels good."
"Hmm," he hummed back, pleased. And then he bit one of her nipples sharply, enjoying the yelp it got in response.
"What are you doing to me?" she murmured, and when he glanced up, her eyes were dark with want.
"Making you feel something else," he said. One large hand cupped her back, fingers spread against the arch of it, as he brought the finger of his other hand between her legs, grinning widely. "I see it's working." She was wet, already soaking into her underwear, and he rubbed her there, dragging the soft material against her clit with a teasing smirk on his face.
She gasped again, hips rolling languidly as she pushed into the sensation. "Malachi," Emma moaned. "Please. Oh god."
"Tell me what you want," he said.
It was significant this time. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Tell me what you want, and I'll listen. He couldn't remember if he'd said it the last time they'd been together, but he meant it this time. "Tell me."
Emma shook in his hold, licking her lips. "Want you," she murmured. "I wanna feel you."
"Where?" he asked, eyes alight with humor.
She gave him a look and then brought her own hand down, wrapping slender fingers around his wrist and pressing his hand harder against her sex. "Here."
If he hadn't been hard in his pants already, that would have done it. He growled softly and let his hand linger there before he was easing her off his lap so she could work her underwear over her hips and toss it to the floor.
He rubbed his fingers through the thatch of short curls between her legs, smiling at her when she whimpered. As much as he wanted to just plunge into her, he knew she needed to be warmed up to take his size, so he pushed fingers in first.
Emma moaned and adjusted her position so she was on her back on the bed, arms above her head as she looked at him. Malachi smirked wickedly and pinned her arms overhead with one hand.
Her eyes widened, and she tested her strength against his, twisting her wrists to see if she could get free. Malachi didn't even have to firm his grip to keep her in place, but he looked at her, making it clear with his eyes that if she wanted to be released, he would release her.
She didn't seem in a hurry to have him let go, and when his other hand worked between her legs, she pressed her hips up, taking his fingers deeper.
It was a beautiful sight. A gorgeous woman pinned down for him, full with his fingers, moonlight glancin
g off her pale skin and making her seem to glow. His worries about what was going to happen with the Alva were far from this room and this moment, and Malachi realized that the need to feel something else had apparently gone both ways. He was fine with that.
"Malachi," she moaned again, hips bucking as she sought more friction at his hands. "Please. Please, please, please."
He was not immune to the begging, and his cock was fully hard in his pants, pressing uncomfortably against the fly in a bid to be free from the constraint. "Stay," he said, pressing her wrists harder to the bed for a moment before withdrawing his hand. In a feat of coordination, he managed to keep his fingers inside her and get his cock out of his pants at the same time, though he pulled his fingers free moments later to spread that wetness over his cock.
Emma's breathing was coming in short, shaky pants, and she'd kept her hands where he'd left them, watching him with an eagerness that warmed him through.
Malachi fisted his cock and then had a better idea. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her up, lifting her so she was in his lap again. "Come here," he said, holding her up and brushing the tip of length against her entrance.
Her eyes widened, and she licked her lips, using one hand to steady his cock and then nodding as she lowered herself down onto him with his help.
"Oh," she breathed, blinking and slack jawed.
Oh indeed. It was a beautiful sight, his cock disappearing inch by inch into her tight little body, and when he was fully seated inside of her, Malachi groaned her name.
With his hands still on her hips, he pulled her down further, encouraging her to move on her own. It wasn't fast and rough, there was no slapping of skin on skin, just the sharp gasps and ragged breathing as they moved together.
Emma pressed her forehead to his collarbone and moved, rocking against him, the slick slide of her inner walls a temptation that had Malachi making soft noises of pleasure.
Being buried inside of her was a thrill he didn't even want to think about too much. If he let himself think too much he'd realize how much he enjoyed it and her company, and then he'd have to think about how much he was going to miss her when this was all said and done.