And when she entered the two great doors, she was struck dumb. “This is a place of great magic,” she said to Roihan. Double sets of pillars led straight to two golden doors almost as large as the front doors, and she could see great halls splitting off on either side.
“Those are the doors to the throne room.” Aielle held her hand out for the crystal. "Why don't you follow Tordan and Roihan so you can get your memories back? I'll see what I can do with this crystal."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Roihan
As they walked, Roihan could hear Aria’s voice in his head. Not the voice of the woman next to him or the voice she uses when she talks to him over the channel in their minds. This was the voice of the past.
“Just let the alien cats take me,” Aria had said, lying on her side in the bed.
“Come on, baby. We have to fight. Would your children want their mother to be killed by monsters?”
A lone tear had slid down her pale cheek. “They were killed by monsters. They’d probably think we deserved it.”
Roihan had clenched his fists, torn between throwing her over his shoulder and running, and lying next to her to await their fate.
He didn’t know what to say. How to argue against despair . . .
Roihan focused on the sound of footsteps on the stone floor, on the way they echoed all around him, as he shoved away the phantom voice in his mind. The last time he had been here, the golden doors to the throne room had seemed so beautiful, but as he stood looking at them with his wife beside him, they loomed large and ominous in the twilight.
And although he didn’t want to admit it, Roihan was . . . afraid. His chest was tight with the fear that he was about to lose his wife again a second time. His mouth felt dry, he wanted to speak to her first, but he had no idea what he would say.
Aria squeezed his hand, nervously tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. “It’s going to be all right.”
He wanted to answer back, but the words stuck in his throat.
Then Roihan opened the door, and she slipped her hand free from his hold before stepping through.
As if in slow motion, he watched her begin to collapse, her hands coming up to her head, her shrieks splitting the air. He was there, catching her before she could hit the floor and pulling her into his arms.
Then Tordan was there, pushing at his chest, forcing them back out of the throne room.
As Roihan stumbled out into the enormous foyer, the piercing screams stopped and she went boneless in his hold.
“What happened?” he roared. “Aria! Aria!”
He shook her but nothing happened as a thin trickle of blood began to drip from her nose.
“We need a healer!” Tordan was yelling as he tried to get Roihan to relinquish his hold on his wife. “Roihan, you have to put her down. Trust the healers.”
“What is happening to her?” Lost. He was so lost. All he needed her to do was open her eyes.
“I don’t know, but you have to let them get to her.”
The last thing in the world Roihan wanted to do was let Aria go, but he forced his arms to lower her to the polished marble floor. Forced himself to allow the healer to touch her.
An elder elf with pale white hair put a crystal behind his wife’s neck. After a heartbeat, her worried eyes snapped up to meet Tordan’s. “Get the princess,” she demanded.
Tordan clasped his shoulder tightly and then sprinted from the room.
He knelt beside her, unable to understand why she didn’t wake.
Aielle ran in a few seconds later, holding a very large crystal, and Tordan was on her heels. She took in the situation with a practiced efficacy as she dropped to her knees beside Aria and put the larger crystal at the back of Aria’s neck.
He fought down the sob that threatened to fill his chest as he looked down at her lifeless body.
Brain death.
Mordjan had told him while he performed surgery on her arm that it was why most of the early cyborgs had died. Their brains couldn’t take the chip. Or wouldn’t let go of their memories. The Ardaks kept trying to build stronger chips, and the result of the battle between brain and chip was often brain death.
And she said her chip was the most advanced.
Pain shot through his chest.
I should have known not to let her do this.
He’d thought it was just his overprotective emotions. But this time they were right.
Please forgive me. This is the third time I couldn’t protect you.
“I think the memories were too much for her,” Aielle muttered, her hands moving over Aria’s forehead. “I’m trying to realign the energy, but I don’t know what the end result will be.”
Roihan watched as Aielle’s hands made pattern-like motions over the top of Aria’s head.
“Switch to infrared, and you will be able to see her magic,” Tordan told him softly in his mind.
When he did, the web of color was instantly visible, weaving around Aria’s head. Aielle’s movements were strong and sure as they pulled individual strands of the web back into alignment. It seemed to take forever, each stubborn strand resisting her efforts. But finally, the pattern was perfect.
They waited in silence, watching her for signs of consciousness.
When she didn’t wake, Aielle’s brows drew together in worry. “I’m sorry, Roihan. Sometimes it takes a while. But there’s nothing more I can do for her.”
She rose, and he gathered Aria up into his arms, willing her to wake.
When she finally did, she blinked several times and then began to struggle against him, so Roihan helped her to her feet.
Her gaze went to each one of them in turn. "What happened? Where am I?"
"What do you remember?" Roihan asked her.
Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head.
He revised his question. "Who are you?"
"I am Aria," she replied in a cool, monotone voice. "Specifically designed to fly Ardak ships as a solo pilot, as well as to integrate with the latest technology to do so."
Roihan's heart was in his throat. "Do you remember me?"
"Yes," she said instantly. "You are Roihan. Also built for infiltration and assassination. And Tordan." She turned her gaze to Tordan's steel-gray eyes. "Built for rational destruction and accurate nullification—or torture and death."
Tordan cleared his throat. "What is the last thing you remember?"
Her eyes rolled upward and then the lids shut, her eyes moving rapidly beneath them. Then she gasped. "The Ardaks. They lied to me. They sent the Red Death." Her blue eyes went to Roihan. “Husband,” she said to him silently.
“That’s right.”
"We synthesized the cure," she said aloud. "I was going to get my memories back."
“And do you remember anything before you awoke with the chip?” Tordan asked.
After a moment, she shook her head.
"Sorry, baby. I guess that part didn't work so well," Roihan said dryly.
Her face saddened, tugging at his heart. "Does this mean I won't get my memories back?"
"Well," he hedged, unwilling to lie to her. "You won't get them back right now. Your chip is more advanced than ours, so that may have something to do with it. But we can still search for other ways." He put two fingers under her chin, looking her in the eyes. "If there's anything the past two solar rotations have shown me, it's that nothing is impossible."
Aria slowly smiled, warming something inside his chest.
"It's going to be okay," he said gruffly, pulling her close. “Let’s finish synthesizing the antidote for the Red Death, and then we’ll have the rest of our lives to get your memories back.”
Roihan crushed Aria to his chest, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
Tordan matched the gesture with Aielle and then whispered into her ear, "Do you need to refill your magic now? Perhaps in a certain hot spring?"
“Perhaps . . . if a certain cyborg king will join me,” she said silkily.
&nb
sp; "You do realize we can hear you, right?" Roihan groaned, pulling Aria closer. "We're cyborgs."
The women shared a look and laughed.
"I'm going to do some research and ask around." She glanced up at the ceiling. "Why don't we show you to your room for the night and let you rest?"
Aria opened her mouth to object.
"If there's anything urgent or I discover the way to refill it, we will wake you, I promise." Her green eyes glowed at them. “But you two look like you could use some rest.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Roihan pulled Aria’s hand into his, silently letting her know it would okay as they followed Aielle up the stairs.
"The palace is very full at the moment with cyborgs and displaced elves," she explained as she stopped at the second door on the right. "So you'll be in the suite right next to ours. They aren't the grandest, but our normal suites are housing twenty people each." She focused on Aria. "And I'll have someone bring you fresh clothing and other necessary items right away."
Roihan reached out to grasp Tordan's arm. "Thank you, Tordan, Aielle. It's good to be home."
"Good to have you back. I hope we can do your mission justice and get this crystal to work," Tordan replied. Then he put an arm around her and they proceeded to the next door and into the room.
When Aria opened the door to the suite, she gasped. "This is the most beautiful room I have ever seen."
"It probably still would be even if you had your memories back," Roihan murmured. "We didn't have anything like this in Siirti where we lived."
He eyed the four-poster bed in the center of the room, made with cream-and-gold sheets. "Perhaps we should shower first."
Aria glanced at the bed and nodded. Her eyes took on a mischievous gleam.
“Perhaps we should.”
That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long, long year.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aria
Aria crossed the room toward the shower, hearing the Roihan’s footsteps on the floor behind her. Her stomach was tight with nerves. She avoided his gaze while she stepped toward the bathing room. “Actually, are you hungry?”
“I am,” he said gravely, seemingly measuring her every breath. “I’ve been starving for months. A little over a year, in fact.”
Her face flamed with heat, and she hesitantly met his gaze, licking her lips nervously. “Roihan, you know . . . I don’t remember how . . .”
He laughed then, a deep masculine chuckle that vibrated through his chest. “I’m going to make up for everything you don’t remember with a night you’ll never forget. How about that?” He stepped forward, and without another word, covered her lips with his.
Her mind might not remember how to kiss, but when Roihan tilted his head slightly, her mouth remembered on its own. Their lips devoured each other, tongues met, and her hands slid up over his shoulders without her realizing it.
His muscles were hard, corded as his hands went to the hem of her shirt. As he raised it slowly, the faint tremor in his movement betrayed how much he wanted her.
Her unbelievably sexy cyborg husband wanted her, and that knowledge was its own aphrodisiac. The strength of his devotion, to come back for her, to love her despite what she’d become, despite the fact that she couldn’t remember him, spoke of a love greater than any she had imagined.
She raised her arms above her head and he lifted the shirt straight off, tossing it away.
His breath caught as he took her hips in his hands, leaning down. “Just as beautiful as I remembered, baby.” His warm breath on her ear sending a shiver down her spine. He knelt then, kissing her neck, then her shoulder on the way down, taking a nipple in his mouth, making her gasp.
The pleasure was incredible as his lips teased and tormented, drawing circles around the nipple, then drawing it into his mouth. She lost herself in it and soon she felt him draw down her leggings, caressing her legs with his fingertips as he bared the skin. Everywhere his fingers brushed, her skin came alive, until she was arching against him in his arms.
He rose, shucking off the rest of his clothing before reaching inside the shower and turning the water on. “I can’t wait another second to get under this water with you. To feel your skin with my hands.”
He put his hands on her then, tugging her into the spray of the shower.
“It’s warm.” Her voice was high with wonder.
“And the elven soap is soft and silky,” Roihan commented, taking a small soap bar from the edge of the shower in his hand. He lathered it until bubbles ran down his wrists, the delicately perfumed scent filling the steamy room. Then he took her head in his hands, smoothing it over her long hair before cupping his fingers, scrubbing gently but firmly at her scalp.
As if he’d done it a million times before.
She closed her eyes. “I can’t believe that something feels this good.”
He chuckled, his fingers moving to the back of her neck, making her feel as if she were melting. “Just you wait, little one. I’ve spent years figuring out what makes that little body tick.”
What I wouldn’t give to remember that. Aria thought hazily, marveling at the sensations running through her body. She’d never been so entranced by the feeling of something against her skin.
He leaned down and placed several kisses along the side of her neck. She shivered against him, her knees felt weak, and she felt his hardness behind her.
He brushed his fingers down her back, teasing between her buttocks, and every hair stood on end.
Then he dropped to one knee before her, his hands continuing down the outside of her legs and up the insides, and she tried to draw her legs together. He clicked his tongue once. “How can I do a thorough job with this cleaning if you’re inhibiting my access?”
“Perhaps access is restricted to this area,” she murmured.
“Access is never restricted for me,” he replied, and she gasped as his hand found her center.
He teased her with his fingertips, getting the soap everywhere, drawing circles over a spot that made her shaky and weak.
She grabbed on to his shoulders for support. “I think you’ve done . . . a thorough job,” she pleaded, not sure whether she wanted him to stop or continue.
“I know how worried you were about your cybernetic parts,” he said gravely. “And I can think of only one answer to this problem.”
“What is the answer?” Her voice was husky and breathless.
“To test every inch of you to see whether it’s cybernetic or not.”
“Test me with what?” she whispered.
“My tongue.”
Her mouth went dry. She didn’t know if she could take much more teasing.
He didn’t wait for a response, but brought her hands to his lips and then kissed the tip of her thumb and then each finger. “Do you feel a difference?”
She tilted her head to the side. “I do feel a difference, but it’s incredibly small.”
“Good. Very good. So I want you to keep track of how everything feels,” he said smoothly right before his lips closed over her nipple. She moaned, unable to hold back the breathy cry. Then he licked it smoothly, nipped at it, drew circles around it until she was shaking with pleasure.
“What do you think?” His voice was serious.
“I think it was flesh.”
“Good,” he mused. “But what about the other?”
Her body was tight with anticipation, and when his lips found the nipple, she cried out at the sensation. Heat burned inside her, sinking lower, her nerves crying out for something she couldn’t remember.
He slowly closed his eyes, licking the peak as if it were a delicate drop of water, then suckling it into his mouth for several seconds until she was arching against him again.
His clear blue-green eyes sought hers. “What about this side?”
“Definitely, ah, flesh,” she answered as he licked his way across her stomach. “I think . . . I think . . .”
“If you’re still think
ing,” he murmured, his tongue tracing her belly button, “then I’m not doing this right.”
“You are!” she protested too loudly as his hands cupped her hips and he stared directly at her core, making her knees tremble. She pushed his head away. “You can’t kiss me there. I’ll fall over.”
He smiled and took the soap in his hands, then rubbed the foam down the outsides of her legs, running up the insides. “Oh no, love, this is the most important place to test.”
She gasped as his hand brushed against her core, then his tongue. Her fingers caught in his hair and her head fell back against the side of the shower. Pleasure overwhelmed her processors with a rush, and for once there was no logic, only sensation.
His tongue teased her, pushing her higher, and suddenly, it was all too much. Pleasure blinded her and she almost collapsed, but he caught her in his arms, holding her tightly as her body trembled, and her lower muscles clenched around emptiness. Waiting for him.
She wanted to make him feel that way. Shakily, she stood, pushing her hair out of her face. She covered his fingers with hers, taking the soap from him.
He watched her intently as she worked the lather between her hands. When she finally put her hands on him, he groaned, unabashedly arching into her. She ran the frothy bubbles over his chest and down his stomach, watching the pained expression on his face.
“I never thought to have your little hands on me again.” His voice was gruff, and she could have sworn there was a catch in his words.
How did I get so lucky? To have Roihan search for me, wait for me.
She stepped around him, soaping his back, testing the hard muscles with her fingers. She covered his entire body, as he had done for her.
When she stepped back to the front, she eyed the blunt hardness that stuck out toward her, eager to touch it. To see his reaction. She might not remember the past, but she was definitely in tune with the present. And the love, the emotion on his face, was drawing her to him even more than his caresses.
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