“Hey, it’s all right. It’s all right now.” Varin put his arms around her, drawing her close to his broad, bare chest. His spicy, familiar scent comforted her and for a moment Brynn pressed her face against the hard planes of his chest and just let herself get lost in the big Kindred. She felt so safe in his arms…so warm…
But what feels good to you is probably causing him almost unbearable pain, a little voice in her head pointed out.
Abruptly, she pulled away.
“Hey—what’s wrong?” Varin frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere. I just…I didn’t want to hurt you. You’ve already risked so much for me.” She nibbled her lower lip. “It’s not fair to ask you to bear so much pain just so I can be comforted.”
“I’ve told you before I don’t care about the pain,” he growled. “But as it happens, touching your skin—touching you—doesn’t pain me any more. I got rid of my obedience band.” He grinned wryly. “Just another little side adventure on my way to finding you.”
“You did? How?” She looked down at his left hand where the thick black band had been, just above his wrist. The hand was gloved now and it looked somewhat strange under the brown leather, but true enough, she didn’t see any black band. “I thought it was part of you.”
“Not any more,” he said, but didn’t answer her question.
“But how—”
“It doesn’t matter how,” Varin growled. “The point is, if you need comfort, don’t let the worry that you’re hurting me stop you, because you aren’t. Just come here.”
He held out his arms and Brynn flowed into them again and pressed her face against his chest. He felt so good—like safety and home. Her cheek was against the part of his chest where her name was written, claiming him as hers, and she could hear his strong heart drumming a soothing rhythm in her ear.
But then she began to feel…strange. Restless. The tips of her breasts ached and the spot between her thighs—her pussy—throbbed with sudden need. Brynn opened her eyes, trying to understand what she was feeling, and saw that everything was tinged in red. What was happening to her?
Suddenly she heard Sovereign X'izith’s hissing voice in her head again… “The Blood Honey will make you crave male fluids while forcing your body into a state of hyper-desire. In this way you will welcome my barb between your legs when I seek to breed you, rather than fighting…”
But I don’t want that! Brynn felt panic stab through her as she thought of his breeding barb…and then of the hard silver club in the deflowering throne. I don’t want anything in me there ever again!
“Goddess, little one,” Varin murmured, stroking her trembling shoulders. “You’re burning up—do you have a fever?”
Abruptly, she pushed away from him.
“I…I don’t know.” She looked down at her hands. “I…maybe I should bathe. I have…I’m still all sticky from that awful stuff the insects sprayed on me.”
“You and me both.” If Varin noticed how abruptly she’d distanced herself, he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe he could feel her worry through the bond he had to her.
Or maybe he can feel my heat—the heat brought on by the Blood Honey, Brynn thought miserably and felt sticky and dirty and disgusting all over again—and not just because of the droplets the insects had sprayed on her. This need the Honey had inspired in her was unclean—unnatural. She felt filthy from it but somehow she couldn’t stop the feelings welling up inside her. She needed to scrub them away.
A little voice spoke up inside her head. Scrubbing the droplets off your skin will scrub away the desire too.
The little voice spoke with such confidence that Brynn felt a surge of hope. Suddenly she was sure it must be right.
“I really need to bathe,” she repeated urgently.
“There’s a fresher right across the hall.” He nodded at the doorway of the room. “You go first and take your time—I’ll clean up afterwards.”
“All right. Thank you.” Brynn clambered off the high side of the bed, feeling weak and dizzy. The edges of her vision were still clouded with red and her breasts and pussy still throbbed with need—much to her embarrassment and shame. But she had to say something else before she left him. “Varin,” she said, looking up at the big Kindred, who was watching her quietly with an unreadable expression in his bronze eyes. “Thank you for coming to get me—for saving me. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did,” he rumbled. “I’m still yours, Mistress. Just because the whole of the planet we both called home is gone, it doesn’t change that fact. I belong to you and I’ll always come for you. Always keep you from harm.” His mouth twisted. “Or try to, anyway.”
Brynn didn’t know what to say to that.
“You’re not my slave anymore, Varin,” she reminded him in a small voice.
“You think not?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “There are more things that bind me to you than your name written over my heart and the slave chip in my spine, Brynn.”
A wash of red suddenly filled her sight and her pussy throbbed so strongly she could barely stand it. Lust swamped her and she longed to go to him, to spread her legs for him then and there and beg him to thrust his shaft deep inside her, to fill her with his cream…
She was actually taking a step towards him when she realized what she was doing.
“Acting like a slut!” her mother had said. And the Sisters whispered in her memory about how no proper lady would ever do forbidden things with a male. But more than any of that, what stopped her from going to him was the awful memory of the silver club in the deflowering throne. The way it had pierced her sex and the horrible pain it had caused thrusting inside her.
Never again—I never want that again! she told herself.
Abruptly, she turned and ran from the room, seeking the sanctuary of the fresher, trying to get away both from Varin, and the frightening, forbidden desires the Blood Honey raised in her.
* * * * *
Varin watched her go, not saying a word. He felt the maelstrom of emotions inside her and though he didn’t understand all of them, he didn’t blame her for running away. After all, he might have saved her from the Hive before that bastard X'izith had been able to get his fucking barb inside her, but that didn’t erase the horror of what she’d seen there. Or the evil that had been done in the dungeon by the deflowering throne.
Gods! Varin clenched his fists tightly, thinking of how her innocence had been ripped from her as he watched, helpless to stop it. Should have saved her from that! Should have known it was coming…taken her away somewhere…
But where? And more to the point, where were they going to go now? Varin was acutely aware of how little time he had left on his slave chip. If he didn’t get it changed soon, he would die.
Have to make a decision soon, he told himself. But he wanted Brynn to be involved in the decision making process. Whichever way they chose to go would affect both their lives drastically—hers more than his if he couldn’t get a new chip in time.
I have to make certain she’s provided for—that she’s not left helpless if something happens to me, he thought grimly. Have to be sure she’s all right, even if I’m not here to protect her.
Unbidden, the image of her throwing herself into his lap down in the dungeon, after her deflowering, came to mind. He remembered her words, “I love you, Varin!” and the way she had kissed him so desperately before they were torn apart. Did she still feel that way? Had she ever? Or had it just been a last, desperate action on her part because she thought they were never going to see each other again?
He had always been devoted to her, of course…had loved her for so long Brynn felt like a piece of his own soul—he wasn’t a whole male without her. Some might sneer at his feelings for her and attribute them all to the way he had been bonded to her when she was just an infant. A one-way bond—or so it was supposed to be—with him feeling love and affection and protectiveness for a high-born female who would never love him back. But Bryn
n had dreamed of him too—she had called him a friend, not just a slave.
But would he ever be more?
Goddess above, he wanted that—wanted her more than anything in the universe. But Varin was well aware that just because their planet had been stripped and the social system they had grown up in was now worth no more than a handful of cosmic dust, it didn’t mean that the system didn’t live on inside them—both of them.
She’s still a princess and I’m still a slave, no matter what she says to the contrary, he told himself. We may never get past that.
Whether they did or not, whether Brynn ever came to feel for him as he felt for her, Varin still felt the need to protect and provide for her.
I’ll teach her to pilot, he told himself. That way even if something happens to me, she can still get away—fly free no matter where she is.
It was a good decision. Piloting was difficult, of course, but Brynn was quick and intelligent and they had nothing but time out here in the space between solar systems.
Not much time, though, he reminded himself. Have to find a fresh slave chip soon…
He resolved to talk to Brynn about it once they had both bathed and eaten. Then they could decide together which way to go and what to do with the rest of their lives…however long or short they might be.
Chapter Twenty-six
Brynn scrubbed and scrubbed but the little voice in her head had lied. Even though her skin felt clean—almost too clean after a while—the dirty thoughts and needs inside her persisted.
She kept thinking of the Sovereign’s breeding barb—how he had almost shoved it inside her—how painful and awful it would have been. And yet, the thought of being filled wouldn’t leave her alone—it tormented her even though she knew she never wanted anything inside her there ever again.
In response to the torment, her whole body got hot. Her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed so hard she couldn’t help herself…she had to try and relieve the pressure.
She was sitting in the bubble tub with the bubbler going at full force which was good—it would hide her actions. She didn’t want to advertise her shameful need if Varin happened to have a vision of her.
But when she put her fingers between her thighs and tried stroking her pussy, it didn’t help. She could feel the need building and building inside her but no matter how much she rubbed, she couldn’t reach the peak.
It was so frustrating Brynn wanted to cry! She wished for the little tickle-teaser Varin had given her, left behind back on Galen Prime. But part of her thought that even the tickle-teaser wouldn’t have done any good. Her body needed something she couldn’t give it herself and she was ashamed to ask Varin for help—ashamed to admit the dirty need inside her that the Blood Honey had planted and caused to grow like the seed of some shameful, poisonous plant.
I’ll keep it to myself—ignore it, she told herself, at last giving up on reaching a release. Eventually it will go away…won’t it?
She hoped to the Goddess that it would. She couldn’t stand much more of this. She wished none of it had ever happened—that her parents had just left her to rot quietly away in the convent instead of deciding to sell her off to the highest bidder.
But I can’t blame them completely, Brynn told herself. I went along with everything they ordered. I stepped onto Sovereign X'izith’s ship…I walked blindly into the Hive…I entered the Breeding Chamber. I did all that without a fight. I acted like a stupid fool—a little girl too weak to fight back.
She didn’t want to be that girl anymore. She wanted to be strong…self sufficient. She didn’t want to have to be rescued anymore.
I want to take care of myself, she decided.
But how? She’d been raised to be a helpless flower, an obedient daughter and wife who did everything her parents and husband told her to do. How could she learn to fight back?
That’s it! Brynn sat straight up in the opulent bubble tub where she’d been soaking and scrubbing, trying to feel clean. That’s it—I’ll learn how to fight. I’ll ask Varin to teach me. That way no one can force me to do what I don’t want to do again. I’ll be in charge of my own life! In charge of my own destiny!
And maybe, if she was in charge of her destiny, she could also take charge of her mutinous body which insisted that she needed things she didn’t want.
Learning how to fight—how to defend myself—will help. With everything, Brynn promised herself.
She hoped.
When she had finished her bath, Varin took one as well. When he came out, he looked much refreshed, though still somewhat troubled. Brynn noticed that while his tight black fighting leathers were clean from a trip through the clothes-refresher, they were showing signs of wear. He was still bare-chested, with little droplets of water clinging to his broad shoulders and his thick dark hair was pushed back from his high forehead in damp waves.
The brown leather glove on his left hand remained in place too—she wondered again what had happened to the obedience band around his wrist and how he’d gotten rid of it. But he hadn’t seemed to want to talk about it earlier so Brynn kept her questions to herself.
The sight of him, half-bare like that, caused a little surge through her body and for a moment her vision was tinged with red around the edges again.
Brynn struggled to keep the forbidden emotions in check. After all, she couldn’t blame Varin for not wearing anything else—there was literally nothing aboard the ship that would fit him other than the clothes he had come in.
For that matter, there was nothing that would fit her either.
There were a lot of fancy men’s clothes which were considerably too big for her, yet much too small for Varin in the clothing storage unit, but nothing for a female to wear. In the end, she had chosen a dark red dress shirt which fell to mid-thigh on her. It had a rounded, v-neck collar, probably useful for showing off expensive neck-chains, which dipped almost to her belly button.
Brynn had looked at the other clothes but this seemed to be the best fit, despite the deeply dipped neck-line. She rolled up the too-long sleeves and kept the front closed by clutching at the sides of the v-neck. She hoped to find some kind of pin or clasp so she wouldn’t have to hold on to it all the time to keep from flashing her small, teacup sized breasts, but so far none had been forthcoming.
“Well, little one, you seem to be making yourself at home.” Varin’s bronze eyes traveled up and down her body in a way that made Brynn blush.
“I had to find something to wear. My shift was all torn and stained,” she explained.
“It’s all right—I’m glad to see you relaxing a little bit. Feeling any better after your bath?” he asked.
“Some.” She shifted from foot to foot. “Varin, I want to ask you a favor. There’s something…something I need you to do for me.”
“Anything I can do for you, Mistress, I will do,” he replied formally. “But first, why don’t we eat? I don’t know about you but I’m hungry. Getting in and out of the Hive works up an appetite.”
“I am hungry,” Brynn said with surprise.
On her trip from Galen to the home world of the Hive, she’d had only brittle, tasteless meal-supplement bars which were all the food simulators of the Sovereign’s ship had seemed able to make. They hadn’t tasted very good or been very satisfying but Brynn had been so miserable thinking of Varin and how his fate was her fault, she’d barely eaten anything anyway. Now her stomach growled, reminding her that she and Varin were both in the land of the living and she needed to give her body food to keep going.
“There’s a small food-prep area with plenty of heat and eat meal disks,” Varin offered. “C’mon—I’ll fix us something.”
They went in to the food-prep room, which had a drink simulator, a food-disk re-hydrator, and a small but elegant table with chairs that were slightly too large for Brynn and slightly too small for Varin.
“Here,” the big Kindred went to the small brushed silver cabinet and opened it, revealing a lot of round, flat white disks
a little larger than his palm. They were stacked in three groups and labeled in Standard: First Meal, Mid-Meal, and Last Meal. There was other writing below that in another language Brynn didn’t recognize but the meal disks themselves were familiar.
“I can do that,” Brynn told him. “Let me, Varin—the Sisters had something like this in their break room at the convent. We girls weren’t supposed to use it but sometimes Sister Piety would let us come in and make snacks if we were good and nobody told the Reverend Mother.”
“Sounds like you’re a regular chef.” His bronze eyes went sleepy with amusement and he sat in the too-small chair and crossed his long legs at the ankles. “All right, let’s have it.”
“What are you feeling like? We have First, Mid, and Last meals here.” Brynn shook her head. “Goddess above, I don’t even know what time it is. Is it morning or mid-day or evening?”
“It doesn’t matter—we’re out in space, not constrained by time. Well—not by chronometer time, anyway.” For a moment his face darkened. Then he sighed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really hungry. Why don’t you re-hydrate some Last-Meal disks? They’d probably be more substantial.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brynn said. “I’m starving. The last thing I had to eat was—” She broke off abruptly, as a mental image of the worker insect pinning her arms to her body and shoving its slimy black tongue down her throat to feed her the Blood Honey suddenly flashed before her mind’s eye.
“Was what?” Varin asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Never mind,” Brynn said quickly. “I’m just, uh, really hungry.”
But actually, when she unfolded the now-plump and steaming Last-meal disk, she found she had lost her appetite.
It wasn’t just that the food was strange and put her off—although it was and it certainly did. It was the memory of the Hive and the effects of the Blood Honey, still ranging through her system along with the shame she felt because of it, that robbed her of her appetite.
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