by Hope Hart
“Have we ever mated?”
Meghan
Heat rushes to my face, and it feels like my skin is burning. It’s a simple question, but the evocative image it creates is stuck in my mind, playing on a loop, over and over.
Mated? Methi and I?
“No,” I say, in a strangled voice, and he frowns.
“Why not?”
“You didn’t want me,” I say, fresh hurt hitting me at the reminder. “We kissed, and you decided I was too young and left. Then this whole situation happened.”
I push the last of my food away, even as I try to control my blush.
“What is ‘kissed?’”
I forgot. Kissing is brand new to the Arcav. But since they’ve been introduced to it, they seem to be reveling in it, with public displays of affection a common occurrence wherever you go in Arcavia. Methi doesn’t remember seeing it.
“Um. It’s when you touch your lips to someone else’s.”
“This is pleasurable?”
I nod. “If it’s done right.”
He raises a brow. “I did not want to do this with you?”
I shrug, annoyed at the reminder. “I guess not.”
I take a moment to mentally debate with myself. If I tell him about his promise to Harlow, there’s no way Methi will touch me. And I want Methi to touch me. In fact, I’m desperate for him to touch me.
Is it so bad to remove that barrier and see what happens? To allow Methi to make his choices without feeling guilty?
It’s not technically lying if I don’t mention it, right?
Methi’s still staring at me, waiting for an answer and I clear my throat.
“Yes. That’s all.”
“Hmmm.”
What does that mean? Does he believe me? Or does he just not care?
“I am disappointed.”
“Why?”
“I have obviously become a foolish male.”
I blush again, pleased and embarrassed all at once.
He leans closer, and I freeze as he wraps his bionic hand in my hair and strokes my cheek with his real hand. His breath feathers over my skin, and I shiver as he leans closer, slowly, slowly approaching my lips, giving me a chance to pull away.
I don’t pull away.
He gently brushes his lips with mine, and I sigh against them. This seems to spur him on, because he pulls me closer, holding me against his chest. I gently slip my tongue into his mouth and he tenses then groans, stroking my tongue with his.
I melt into him, surrounded by his body and his scent. We’re in an impossible situation, but in this moment, it feels like it’ll all be okay.
He slowly pulls away, and his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, the violet a tiny ring around his enlarged pupils.
“You are right. This kissing is pleasurable.”
It’s bittersweet. This Methi wants to kiss me, but he’s not my Methi. I once read that we’re the sum of all of our memories and experiences. He’s Methi, but he’s not.
“You are comparing me to him.”
I flinch, even as he nods and pulls away.
“I understand,” he says.
“I don’t.”
“I have lost centuries of my life. That amount of time will change a person irrevocably. I am not the male you know.”
“You are,” I whisper, even as he simply shakes his head. “You’re the same person deep inside,” I insist, and then I’m certain I’m right — nature versus nurture. We may be the sum of our experiences, but I believe the core of a person doesn’t change. Whether you’re the type of person to give a sandwich to a homeless person, step on others to get to the top of the corporate ladder, or give a shivering stranger the shirt off your back. Sure, we all make choices, but it’s why we make those choices that make us who we are.
I reach out, grab his neck, and pull him down to me. He complies, nibbling on my bottom lip before delving deep. I lean my head back against the wall, and Methi follows, kneeling above me as he begins to kiss and suck at the side of my neck.
My hands slide into his hair, brushing against his horns, and he takes a sharp breath. He leans closer, surrounding me with his hard body as his hands move up and down my body, cupping my breasts as I shiver.
And then I’m lying down, and Methi is leaning over me, kissing me hungrily as he pushes up my top. His mouth finds my breast and I jolt, even as he scrapes his teeth gently against me.
“Methi—”
“You taste so sweet.”
I gasp, even as I close my eyes, needing a moment.
“Methi wait—”
Violet eyes meet mine immediately, burning with lust, and I almost gasp.
“Yes?”
He gives me a slow, sexy smile, and I blow out a breath.
“I’ve never done this before.”
Methi jolts like I’ve electrocuted him. “Never?”
I shake my head, dropping my eyes and he takes my chin in his hand until I look back up.
“This is a precious gift you offer me. We will wait until you are comfortable.”
I open my mouth to tell him I am comfortable, I just need to go slow, but Methi is already putting our empty food containers away and getting to his feet.
I sigh. “Let’s look for some tools.”
We split up, Methi searching near the control center while I check the back of the ship.
“Female.”
“My name is Meghan,” I call back crossly, cursing as I hit my head on a shelf.
“I have found it.”
I find him in a room underneath the control center, and I grin as I take in the massive selection of tools. Finally, something is going right for us. If we can make the repairs to the ship and then find some fuel, we could conceivably leave this planet within a day or two.
“This is awesome.”
We spend the next few hours tinkering. The crack in the thruster is simple enough to fix, but the main problem is the lack of material to fix it with. The metal is called pouq and it’s similar to steel. Most ships carry a bunch of it so it can be melted down for repairs like these. I can’t seem to find it anywhere until I discover a collection of old and obsolete parts in a tiny, dusty room hidden near the entrance.
I don’t like the idea of melting it on the ship, so I wrap some blankets around me again and take the pouq out to where Methi’s still working on the landing gear. He looks perilously close to shivering and I realize he hasn’t returned since he went outside.
“You need to take a break and warm up.”
He shrugs. “I wish to fix this part first.”
I don’t bother arguing, just pick up a blowtorch, ready to melt the pouq.
I gaze down at it as I turn the metal into silver liquid, conscious of Methi beside me. I can feel all of his attention on me, even as he seems to be focused on the landing gear.
“What?”
I pick up the container holding the pouq, and Methi turns.
“That is too heavy for you to pour over the thruster. I will help you and return to the landing gear later.”
I nod, more than happy to return to the warmth of the ship, and he takes the container out of my hands and then follows me upstairs. I turn and watch him take the last few steps, noting that some blood has leaked through his pants. He’s not even limping, but I’m worried about his leg. He needs to stay off it if it’s going to heal.
Methi throws a few more logs on the fire and reaches for the pouq but I shake my head. “We need to check your leg.”
He sighs but doesn’t argue, following me into the medi-center. I nod toward the bed and he sits down. His wound is on his thigh, too high for him to pull the leg of his pants up, and he pushes them off instead, eyes dark as he looks at me.
“You should leave. I can take care of this.”
I raise a brow. “Poor little Arcav scared to be alone with me?”
“I cannot guarantee your safety if you touch me right now.”
He’s tense, pupils blown as he stare
s at me, and I feel a jolt of triumph. Methi does want me.
“I’ll risk it.”
I lean down and gently remove the bandage, wincing even as he remains tense above me. I avoid looking at his cock. Arcav have much better senses than humans, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to let him know exactly how much I want him right now.
“Hand me those bandages.”
Methi leans back, and I inhale as his shirt moves. Then I’m being lifted and I’m suddenly straddling him, even as I freeze, terrified I’ll land on his bad leg.
“Methi! I’m going to hurt you even more!”
He grins at me, and then lays down, pulling me closer. I’m no longer straddling his leg. Now I’m precariously close to straddling his face.
“I have been wondering how you taste, female,” he says, and I blush.
“Methi—”
“Perhaps it is time to find out.”
He pulls me down, and I press my lips against his, licking his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, kissing me back even as he growls against my lips. Then he moves down, and my shirt goes flying before his mouth closes on my breast, his tongue rubbing against my nipple.
“You taste delicious.”
I moan, and it seems to spur him on, because I’m suddenly flipped, lying on my back on the bed, with Methi on his feet.
“Your leg—”
“Is fine,” he says, pulling off my pants.
I blush as he studies me, and then his hands are dancing over my skin, even as he takes my mouth in a deep kiss. His fingers slip beneath my underwear, his thumb brushing my most sensitive spot, even as his fingers move inside me.
I groan against his mouth, and it seems to please him because he growls back, even as his skilled fingers tease and stroke, and I writhe beneath him. He raises his head and watches me, violet eyes burning hot. A pressure begins to build and I gasp, even as he gives me a slow smile.
“Come for me.”
And I do, clenching around his fingers as I climax, shuddering, and he grins, pulling his fingers away as I slump back, boneless.
My mouth drops open as he licks them.
“I knew you were delicious.”
Chapter Eleven
Meghan
I struggle awake, opening my eyes to see Methi staring back at me. I instantly know his memory has returned.
“How?” I ask quietly, and he shrugs.
“Probably simply Arcav healing. It is likely that I am still missing some information.”
I nod, flipping onto my back and pushing my hair off my face.
He catches my hand in his and stills, his attention entirely on the black mating bands around my wrists.
Uh-oh.
He stares at them for a long moment, and then raises his eyes to mine, regret clear on his face.
I snatch my hand away and he lets me, pushing up and maneuvering himself closer to the wall so he can lean against it.
“Why?”
I shift. “Why what?”
He gives me a long look. “Why would you allow this to happen?”
“It takes two to tango, buddy.”
I’m so relieved that he’s got his memory back that I won’t allow myself to feel upset that he obviously regrets the mating bands on my wrists. Okay, so maybe I’ll feel a little upset.
Methi’s eyes are hot when he looks at me, but I can almost see the wheels in his head turning as he has some internal conversation with himself.
“Let’s continue the conversation we had before you lost your memory,” I say and he frowns.
“Why did you leave without telling me?”
Methi glares at me from beneath lowered brows.
“You thought we were friends,” he says. “But I had every reason to believe you were my mate.”
“So you left?”
“Harlow explained to me that you are still a child in human years,” he frowns then, shifting against the stone floor. “I promised her that I would not mate with you.”
“And you agreed I was a child?”
He shakes his head instantly. “I do not care what anyone says. You are an incredibly capable female who saved my life. You are no child.”
I take a moment to preen and then frown at him.
“Even if you made a promise to Harlow, why didn’t you come to me to talk about it?” I ask, the hurt rising again. I’ve told Methi all about my memories of my father leaving, and it shocks the hell outta me that a guy who claims to care about me could just suddenly disappear.
“Because I could not trust myself!” he growls suddenly, rising to his knees. “I wanted you with my every breath. I left so I would not break my promise and lose my honor.”
“Your honor,” I say bitterly. “Well, as long as you don’t lose that.”
“Sometimes,” he says quietly, staring at my wrists, “honor is all you have.”
“You could’ve had me.”
I thought I would feel some sense of closure when I talked to him about this, but all I feel is numb. He left because he valued his honor and didn’t want to break a promise to Harlow. I spent weeks crying into my pillow wondering what I did wrong, and it had nothing to do with me at all.
“You are still young. You were supposed to have years of playing, exploring,” he clenches his teeth, “dating.”
My mouth drops open.
“Dating? You wanted me to date?”
“Of course not,” he snarls. “But these are normal human experiences that you deserved to have. If we were to mate…I would never allow you to go to dinner or dance with another male. You are still so young.”
Dating. Even the word sounds banal. I ignore the word allow. We’ll talk about that another time.
“I couldn’t eat,” I say quietly, rolling off the bed and standing up. “I couldn’t sleep. I wondered what I’d done wrong. Why someone I thought was my friend would suddenly leave with no explanation. When I heard about Talis—thought you could be dead—it was like something broke inside me.”
“I am sorry.”
I study him, and his eyes flare at whatever he sees on my face.
“You’d do the exact same thing again, wouldn’t you?”
His jaw firms. “I had to go. I was on the edge of doing something irreversible.”
“Something like mating me.”
He gets to his feet, and I wonder how I didn’t see it before. Maybe it was because he kept it so deeply hidden. The tension in his body. His hands opening and closing as if desperate to grab me. The longing on his face when he looks at me. But he’d decided that he knew better than me.
“I will always be your friend,” he says. “But I do not believe that we should be mates. You are too young, and I am not what you need.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “You know what stings the most? If you’d talked to me, maybe we could’ve figured it out. Together. But you knew best. Because you obviously really do think I’m a child. Well, you made the right choice. I could never be with someone who treats me as less than an equal,” I say, and his eyes burn brighter at my words. “But just remember: this child saved your ass. And if you think I’m going to wait around until you deign to be with me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
Methi
I grind my teeth in frustration as Meghan walks away. As I lay in this tiny bed with her beside me, it was almost impossible to bring to mind all the reasons why we should not be mates in truth, why we should not complete the mating bond.
My mind returns to her soft skin, the taste of her beneath me, and the feeling of deep satisfaction that came from simply watching her sleep after shaking through her climax.
If I were a less honorable male, I would stride after her, take her in my arms, and take her soft mouth. I groan as I picture that lush mouth falling open in surprise as I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me.
I glower down, where my cock is making its appreciation for this line of thinking known. I made a promise to Harlow. A promise I will not break. But even without m
y vow, I am well aware that I am not a male who will ever be worthy of a female such as Meghan.
In rescuing me, Meghan has lost her dream of flying for the Arcav forces. Stealing a ship, even to rescue another Arcav will have repercussions that will impact her for the rest of her life.
She has lost some of the wide-eyed innocence that encouraged so many smiles around her on Arcavia. She was a whirlwind of ideas and opinions, laughter spilling out of her at any opportunity, even as she fought to be taken seriously, desperate for adulthood. Now, she has seen things that will haunt her dreams. It is one thing to know that there are planets where people who should be free are beaten, murdered, and sold as slaves. It is another to see this first-hand.
Not only has she lost these things, but she almost lost her life. If the ship had been traveling any faster…
I do not wish to think of what I would have done, had I regained my memories, only to find that Meghan was dead.
Sometimes, loving someone means letting them go. Harlow taught me this when Amanda was allowed to leave Arcavia. I was born cursed, with the blood of a dishonorable male running through my veins. I am not meant for a female like Meghan— one who deserves a life of safety and security. All I have brought to her life is pain, loss, and helplessness.
Humans do not need to mate. Unfortunately, she will now carry my bands on her wrists for the rest of her life. I ignore the spark of pleasure I feel at the thought.
One day, she will find someone who will only bring goodness into her life. When we return to Arcavia, I will ask to be posted elsewhere, so I will not have to see it. My heart hurts at the thought of giving up all I have worked for, no longer a member of the Queen’s guard. But then I imagine watching Meghan talk to other males, many of whom already find her constant talking, enthusiasm, and lust for life fascinating. My horns straighten, even as I shake with rage as I picture her giving away her wide smile and heated looks. Leaving Arcavia is the only answer.
Meghan
I know what you’re thinking.
Meghan, you’re young. You’re only seventeen. You have a long, exciting life stretching out in front of you. Well, you do if you can make it back to Arcavia. Otherwise, you may only have a few more days once your food runs out.