by Morgan Hawke
“Bloody Fate, you mean I have to use ... that, all the time?”
“Yes, you do.”
“That sucks ...‘Syr.”
He leaned back and smiled. “You’ll adjust.”
Fallon narrowed her eyes at him. “Now what?” She curled her lip. “‘Syr.”
His copper gaze hardened. “Who do you belong to, rehkyt? ”
Fallon swallowed. “You, ‘Syr .”
“Do you belong to Sobehk?” His gaze was absolutely merciless.
Fallon jerked and turned away. She was not going there. No way in fury ...
His growl was low and thoroughly threatening. “Do you belong to Sobehk?” His claws cut into her arms. “Answer me.”
She faced him and snarled. “Are you trying to rip my heart out, you bastard?”
He bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. “I didn’t ask if you loved Sobehk. Do you belong to Sobehk?”
The whimper escaped before she could stop it. She couldn’t do this; it hurt too much. She unlocked her ankles from around his hips and tried to pull off his cocks, but he was swollen tight within her. She writhed in his hold struggling to escape. “Let me go!”
“No.” He caught her wrists and pressed her against the wall with his body. “We’re tied.”
She pulled and twisted, whimpering with the pain, even as he hissed and struggled to hold her still. She could not free herself. She couldn’t unlock her body from his. She collapsed, panting with exhaustion. She had to fight herself to meet his gaze, but meet it she did, with every last drop of defiance she had. “I will not answer that!” She bared her teeth. “‘Syr.”
“Yes, you will!” His voice was low and even, but his copper gaze blazed with rage. He bared his teeth, and a low growl rumbled.
Her gaze focused on the pulse beating in his throat, only centimeters from her mouth, and her fangs. She could make him release her. She could rip out his throat. She was close enough, and fast enough to do it. She took a breath and tumbled the thought of killing him in her mind. She turned her gaze from his vulnerable throat. She just couldn’t make herself do it. She just couldn’t. She didn’t want him dead.
He sighed and the anger went out of his gaze. His exhausted breaths panted in time with hers. “Answer the question, Isabeau. Do you belong to Sobehk?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t want to answer. It would break something in her that would never be the same.
“Isabeau.” He took a deep breath. “Answer me.”
She laid her cheek against his shoulder, begging for comfort. “Please don’t.” She released a breath, and her tears. “Please, don’t make me ... do this.”
“I have to.” He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight. “We both already know the answer, but you have to say it.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and shuddered with the sobs that tumbled from her shattering heart. “You can’t ...” She had to take two breaths before she speak past the pain. “You can’t ask me to stop ... loving him.”
“I’m not asking you to stop loving him.” He took an unsteady breath. “I’m asking if you belong to him.”
“He wants me to. I want to.”
He took a very deep breath and sighed against her throat. “Isabeau, he deliberately gave up his claim on you last night, when he told me to take you.” His arms tightened around her. “When you decided to live, you knew you would not be his, but mine.”
She closed her eyes and curled in tight. It hurt. It hurt ... Blood and Fate, it hurt . “You can’t make someone love you.”
The angry tension went out of his body in a rush. “This isn’t about love. Impression is the Skeldhi instinct to hold on to and protect their mates. A Skeldhi female goes into compliance, breeding heat for two solid cycles, but only once every two years. Between seasons, they won’t allow sexual contact. Without impression, males would not stay with them long enough to raise a family. Love is something else entirely.”
“You’re capable of mating for sixty days straight, but you only get to do it once every two years?” She winced. “That has got to be ... frustrating.” No wonder they were such a war-like race.
He chuckled tiredly. “That is the absolute truth. It would have been easier if males shared their seasons, but we don’t. We’re sexually ready at all times, so as to be available when a female goes into season. Rehkyt are specifically designed for fucking. They’re concubines to keep the male half of the race from committing territorial genocide.”
“And your females allow this?”
He snorted. “It was their idea. The first rehkyt was designed for a pshent , a ruling queen, to keep her consort sane while she carried her children to term. There’s your love. Queens originally killed their consorts after mating. She loved her mate enough to find a solution to territorial madness so he could live.”
He pressed his cheek to hers. “Unlike humans, we are ruled by our instincts, not our emotions. As a rehkyt , you have our DNA, and the instincts that come with it. You love Sobehk, but you’ve impressed on me. Your body knows who it belongs to, but I need you to admit it, to say that you accept it.”
She bit her lip. She wanted him, but she didn’t like him. “I don’t want this ... instinct.” Her gaze caught her reflection behind him. Her burnished gold skin was bright under the light, and her eyes were over-large and green in a way no human eyes could ever be. She looked away from her alien reflection and leaned back to stare into his copper eyes. “Why do you do this to people? Why was this done to me?”
His red-orange gaze focused on her. “Do you honestly think a human would have lived through what we did last night? I would have ripped your fragile human body apart from the inside out. Your rehkyt body is designed to not only endure, but enjoy sex with one of us -- sex that would kill a human.”
“So you altered me, into ... this.”
“We alter all the humans that come into our hands. They live longer.” His gaze pinned hers. “Isabeau.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you belong to Sobehk?”
It was done. It was over. There was nothing left to fight for. There was nothing left to fight with. “No, ‘Syr .”
His teeth sank viciously into her shoulder.
She screamed with the bright hot pain of his bite even as her body flared with an overwhelming wave of clenching carnal heat that threatened to eat her alive. She wrapped her legs around him and clawed his back with her nails in her violent urgency.
He released her shoulder and thrust, the blood running from his mouth as he slammed her into the wall with his merciless strokes. “Cum, for me. Cum now!”
Climax rose so fast she was screaming before it hit. Her body exploded from the inside in a release so profound it felt as though her heart burst. Lightning rushed up her spine and exploded at the back of her skull. Her screams stopped and she collapsed in his arms, barely conscious.
“Mine.” He thrust into her, grunted, thrust again and then held. “You are mine .” He gasped, shuddering, his cocks pulsing in her body. A snarl escaped his bloodstained mouth. “No one else’s!” His eyes closed briefly then he threw back his head and screamed with a voice that was not even remotely human.
Chapter Fifteen
Khan trembled as he released Fallon from his arms, his softened cocks sliding from her body.
Fallon, burned and scoured, heart, soul, and body, slid down the wall. Her shaking legs couldn’t hold her.
He caught her under the arms. “Turn around and face the wall.”
She panted softly and fought a losing battle to get her feet under her. “I don’t think I can stand.”
He grunted as he helped her turn. “You don’t need to stand. Kneeling will do. Just keep your head up. ”
Fallon dropped to her knees and pressed her head against the reflective wall.
Khan knotted his fingers in the base of her hair, twisting it around his fist. “Head up and hold still.”
Fallon winced. �
��I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you’re not.” He groaned. Hot liquid splashed her back, ran down her arms, and spilled over her thighs. He reached down and hauled her up onto her feet, then jerked her around and pressed her back against the wall, trapping her with his big, scarred body. “Who is your master, rehkyt? ”
She dodged his stare and shivered hard. “You, ‘Syr .” The reply fell from her mouth before she knew she was going to utter it.
He caught her jaw and forced her to meet his hard copper stare. “I claim you by right of conquest as mine; my property, my pet, and my slave. Do you yield to my claim?”
She gasped in fright even as something else wrapped tight around her heart. The rank and inescapable smell of him burned in her nose.
His claws dug into her jaw, his gaze utterly pitiless. “Do you yield?”
She cringed and blinked as her eyes swam. “Yes, ‘Syr! ”
“Good.” He took her mouth in a brutal kiss, his teeth scoring her tongue.
She whimpered in submission. There wasn’t a drop of fight left in her.
He released her mouth and held her gaze. “I swear I will do my best to be a good master to you.”
Her breath stopped in her throat and the tears tumbled free. She hadn’t thought there was anything left in her to cry for. He’d already ripped out her heart, but this felt deeper. Like he was shoving something in the gaping hole he’d carved in her breast. It wasn’t love. It was something older and more primal. And far more permanent.
He frowned. “Isabeau, breathe.”
She choked and sucked air. She tried to hold back the sobs that burst free, but she just couldn’t.
“Easy, pet.” He caught her in his arms and held her against his heart. “It’s done, it’s over. Just let it go.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Maker, what have you done to me?”
“I’ve claimed you.” He sighed. “Your head still isn’t ready to accept what you are, but your body understands just fine.”
She sniffed. “Understands what?”
“What you are, and what I am to you.” His palm swept down her soaked back.
His touch felt good, and right. Too good, too right. “Instincts again?”
“Very much so.” He dropped a kiss on her brow. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He pulled her under the shower’s still-running water. His hands were gentle but thorough as he bathed her, touching every inch of her.
She sighed and relaxed, giving in to the comfort his touch offered. A small amount of shame coiled in the basement of her heart. She hadn’t let Sobehk touch her this easily.
Fallon stepped out of the facility, stopped and shook hard. She swept her hands down her skin, still uncomfortable with the gleaming inhuman color.
Khan moved to the chair where his abandoned clothes lay. He picked up his black kilt and began to dress.
Fallon paced uneasily. She didn’t want to think about what had happened in there, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her mind latched on the one thing she didn’t get. “‘Syr, why in fury did you piss on me?”
Khan turned to her as he closed his black under robe. “It’s part of the ritual of claiming.” He wound his scarlet sash around his waist.
Fallon’s mouth opened in shock. “But that’s so ... disgusting!”
Khan snorted and tucked his daggers into his sash. “No, it’s male. Most males of any species piss to mark their territory and their property.” He picked up his heavy black and scarlet hooded over-robe.
Fallon’s hands fisted at her sides. “That’s what I am? Property?”
He paused, staring hard at her. “Are you saying you’re not my property?”
She turned her gaze away. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “No, ‘Syr .”
“Isabeau, just let it go.” He shrugged into his over-robe. “Trust your instincts. They’ll lead you in the right direction.” He sat in the chair to pull on his boots and a small smile appeared. “And keep you out of trouble.”
Fallon glared at him. “And if my instincts tell me I should bite someone, ‘Syr? ” She flinched. She was using that “master” title a little too easily, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Khan’s brows rose, and his smiled broadened. “Then it’s highly probable that that person should be bitten.” He stood and fastened his robe closed. “But be warned, to Skeldhi a bite is a prelude to sex or violence. You bite someone and they’ll expect you to either fuck them or try to kill them.”
Fallon rubbed her arms. “So far, I haven’t seen much of a difference between sex and violence, ‘Syr.”
Khan grinned. “To Skeldhi, there isn’t much of one. If we can’t fuck it, we want to kill it.” He strode over to his computational and the holographic display on the wall dispersed.
She rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks for the warning.”
“You’re welcome.” He closed the small computational case and carried it back toward the chair. He set the case down on the seat then turned to her. He held out his hand. “Come.”
Fallon moved toward him uneasily. He was fully dressed in his long robes of office, just as when she’d first seen him. Tall, dark, and scary. And an investigations agent. But she couldn’t stop herself from going to him. She stopped a single pace away, unable to look into his face.
Khan caught her chin and raised her gaze to his. His mouth was tight and his eyes held something she couldn’t begin to define. “There is nothing to fear. Anyone that wants to hurt you has to go through me first.”
Fallon blinked and felt the most incredible urge. She gave into it just to see what would happen. She tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against his palm. She had no idea why, but it seemed the right thing to do.
“Yes.” A slight smile lifted his lips. “That’s it. That’s right.” He sighed deeply, as though a weight had been lifted. His other hand came out of his robes. There was a distinct rattle of chain.
A chill raced across her skin and the hairs on her neck rose.
Khan released her and held up a chain between his hands. It was pitch black, like the band on his brow, and made of links large enough to put her pinky through. A tag swung from the end. “This is my collar. Your blood carries my ownership in your DNA, but this chain marks you visibly as mine. The tag holds my name and yours.”
It already had her name on it? Fallon hissed in shock and sudden anger, smelling a deliberate betrayal. She stepped back. “You planned to take me from Sobehk, before you ever met me.” It wasn’t a question.
Khan’s gaze hardened. “Yes.”
She dropped her chin and set her jaw, her hands fisting at her sides. “Why?”
His copper eyes ignited with anger and a warning growl rumbled from his chest. “Are you questioning me?”
Anger lashed through her in a white-hot bolt. “I don’t know you! You don’t make any sense to me! How can I ...?” She looked away then looked back. “How can I trust you?”
Khan took a deep breath, but the anger didn’t fade from his gaze. “Isabeau, I have my reasons for what I’ve done, just as you had your reasons for choosing to live, knowing that you would be mine and not Sobehk’s.”
Fallon winced in shame. He wasn’t the only one that stank of betrayal.
“Isabeau, you do know me, better than you think. Trust what you feel, not what you think. Impression doesn’t happen without an instinctive connection.”
Instincts again! Fallon stomped her heel on the deck in pure reflex, but there was nothing she could say to argue the point. Every time he opened his mouth he hammered home the fact that she was not meant for Sobehk. And it was pissing her off! A growl rumbled in her throat.
Khan tilted his head and a slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Blood or sex?”
Fallon froze. Every thought in her head ground to an abrupt halt. She looked at him. “What?”
Khan set his hands on his hips. “Right now, what would make you feel better, bl
ood or sex?”
Fallon shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand, ‘Syr .”
“Don’t think. Feel. What do you want to do? Bite or fuck?” Khan moved the small computational in the chair behind him to the floor, tugged at his robes, and sat down.
Fallon considered what she was feeling. She was furious. Wound tight with anger, and that anger definitely wanted something. She rubbed her jaw. It ached from clamping her teeth together. Her teeth ... She looked at him. “Bite, ‘Syr .”
He nodded. “Blood.” He pulled back his right sleeve, baring his forearm. “Come here.” He stretched his arm out to the side, his hand fisted.
Fallon couldn’t look away from the blue veins in his pale arm. She stepped toward him, drawn. She wanted to bite him with everything in her ... and something else. She wanted something else, too.
“Down, get down.” His voice was hard, firm, and oddly encouraging.
She dropped to the cold metal floor and crawled on hands and toes toward his bared arm. A breath away from his arm, she stopped. She could smell the blood pulsing under his skin. Her mouth watered and her jaw ached to sink her teeth into him. She looked at him.
He nodded. “Just your mouth, not your hands, and pull your teeth out to suck.”
She licked the soft skin of his arm. The moan erupted from her throat before she could stop it. She pressed her teeth against his skin. His forearm was too broad to get her teeth into. She moved closer to his wrist. Her teeth sank into the thin skin with a slight pop.
He grunted and his fist tightened.
She pulled her teeth back out and closed her mouth over the holes. She sucked gently. It was salty, sweet, and right. She swallowed, and liquid copper fire burned down her throat and warmed her belly. Her thoughts drifted apart along the edges under a muzzy wave of warmth.
She blinked. Am I getting drunk? She swallowed again. The ache in her heart eased, washed away under the warmth spreading from her belly. I am getting drunk. She thought about stopping. A fist of pain closed around her heart. No, I’m tired of hurting.
She sucked harder, greedily. This was right; this was good; this was ... comforting. More ... Her thoughts subsided into a warm, comfortable lull that pushed the pain away. She swallowed and swallowed. Something in her calmed, eased, unfolded, and a strange low vibrating sound came from the very base of her throat. It wasn’t a growl, but it was a sound she’d never made before. It felt good to make that sound. She relaxed and let it happen.