Kel D'Rek; His To Claim

by Theodora Taylor

  “Um…thank you?” I answer not really knowing how else to respond to that.

  “I desire to know more of these language and cultural details, and I believe I would not be the only one. Other hybrids like myself would also like to hear this knowledge, along with the full Xalthurian males who qualify for participation in the Breeding Ceremony. After the last qualification, they put questions to me that I simply could not answer, having left Terrhan when I was only a babe. There is much curiosity about the hu’man females, and from what I understand, even those participating in the Breeding Ceremony are not provided with answers to their many questions.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, frowning. It never occurred to me that the Xalthurian males who came through every year to brutally breed us might regard us human women as anything more than wombs for the taking.

  “Yes it is, as you say…so,” he answers. “My favorite cousin refuses to participate in the Breeding Ceremony again, even though his first attempt did not produce a child. He says one of the hu’man females he mated with leaked much water from her eyes during the ceremony. Though he found the mating sensations very pleasant as most Xalthurian males do, he did not like the feeling their crying produced within him. He was told it is perfectly normal for hu’man females to react this way to breeding, but—”

  “Wait, wait,” I say holding up a hand. “He was told that was normal. By who?”

  “It is in the Breeding of Hu’man Females Manual, which all Breeding Ceremony participants are required to upload before they can take part,” L’Than answers. Then his five ridges ripple as he asks, “Do you know it is considered very rude for a female to interrupt a male? Perhaps that is not a rule in your culture?”

  “Yes, I was made aware of that rule,” I answer, my tone as frigid as ice over that piece of ‘completely beside the point’ he tried to insert behind his super disturbing revelation.

  Not that it matters…the Xalthurians don’t really “get” tone. But still, I do my best to convey how displeased I am as I demand, “Who’s in charge of putting this manual together?”

  L’Than ridges furrow and his lips lift in a way that I’ve come to recognize as confusion in the few days that I’ve been teaching him the New Terrhan language. “You do not know? I would have thought it would be obvious that the prime minister is in charge of the Breeding Ceremony along with all of our planet’s dealings with New Terrhan.”

  “Why would that be obvious?” I ask him, now also confused, because L’Than is looking at me like I’m an idiot.

  L’Than opens his mouth to answer my question, but then abruptly stops. “These cannot be the right coordinates,” he murmurs, looking around what appears to be a very wide field, filled with nothing but blades of deep green grass.

  A sonic boom sounds above before I can ask why he looks even more confused by the empty field we’ve just come upon than my question about who was in charge of the Breeding Ceremony manual.

  We both look up to see a space ship descending onto what I’m now guessing must be a landing field of some sort. But this space ship isn’t like the ones I’ve seen set down on New Terrhan.

  It’s a lot sleeker than the Breeding Ceremony ship. Huge and long, yet cylindrical. Kind of like if a photon laser from one of the old planet sci-fi entertainments had decided to make itself gigantic and fly. There were several oversized barrels sticking out of the top and sides. Maybe weapons of some kind. Could this be a battleship?

  I glance over at L’Than, and the look on his face doesn’t reassure me at all. His ridges are vibrating, and his eyes have opened so wide, they almost appear round. I’ve never seen this look on any Xalthurian, full or hybrid before, but I think it’s fear…yes, fear.

  For some reason L’Than is scared.

  “L’Than what’s wrong?!” I yell over the spaceship’s loud landing.

  L’Than yells something back that the translator can’t hear well enough to interpret.

  Totally frustrated, I turn back to look at the maybe battleship as it settles down. Is it Kaidorian, I wonder? Has the enemy found us?

  But no…I can now see the Xalthurian insignia plastered on the side facing us. And as soon as the landing door descends to form a gangplank, jewel-toned Xalthurians come spilling out.

  It’s quiet enough to talk now, so I turn back to L’Than and ask, “What’s wrong? Why are you scared?”

  Instead of answering, he backs away from me. Like I’ve somehow transformed from a valued teacher into a radioactive monster. Then, without any further explanation, he turns tail and runs. Just flat out runs away from me.

  What the moons?

  “L’Than!” I yell after him, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

  An ominous sound cuts off my next question. Heavy feet coming towards me. Fast.

  I turn and sure enough, there’s, like, a phalanx of Xalthurians in soldier wear headed toward me. Oh no…. Maybe D’Rek forgot to tell his soldiers he’d given me permission to walk in the gardens and they think I’ve escaped?

  I brace myself to be snatched up, trying to figure out how I’m going to explain this situation to a bunch of Xalthurians who don’t have translation chips.

  However, instead of grabbing me, the group of soldiers run straight past me, yelling, “Stop, citizen, stop!” after L’Than.

  Dread curdles my stomach at the realization that I’m not the one the scary soldiers are after as I turn to watch them chase L’Than.

  Is he in some kind of trouble? If so, I’ve got to tell N’Maryah. Maybe she can help—

  “Ki’Ra.”

  The one word sends a spike of joy through my heart. And though the voice is as monotone as everyone else’s, I know who it is even before I happily turn around.

  “D’Rek, you’re back…”

  The “early” dies on my lips when I see the look on my blue alien’s face.

  Cold and like, one hundred times more furious than the way he looked when he found me hiding in the stable.

  But I have no idea why.

  15

  Kira

  I awaken many hours later in a dark room, still not understanding why D’Rek was so angry at me when he arrived a full day early.

  Or why instead of greeting me, he grabbed me by the arm and hauled me back to the palace without saying a word or answering any of my questions.

  I’d expected for him to yell at me when we got back to the room. To not only tell me what I did wrong, but also start commanding me like I was one of his subjects.

  But he’d said nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  Only deposited me in his bedroom, then left. Not just the room, but the entire suite. Leaving me there all alone after so many nights of talking about what he’d do to me as soon as he arrived back on Xalthuria.

  And he’d locked the door behind him. Believe me, I’d checked as soon as he left. Which I guess meant I was a full-on prisoner again. But why? Was L’Than some kind of criminal or something? Someone I shouldn’t have been talking to for some reason?

  The sun sets and rises then sets again on those questions. With no further word coming from D’Rek. Or anyone else for that matter.

  When I wake up in complete darkness the second night after his arrival, my stomach grumbles irritably. I have no idea what time it is, but the food I ate for first meal two mornings ago, is little more than a distant memory. I’m now hungry enough to eat a faun.

  I don’t bother to ask the room for the hour. It informed me when my latest imprisonment first begun that I no longer have access to the holocomm or any of the room’s voice command functions.

  Earlier in the night when I fell asleep, I’d thought maybe D’Rek was trying to bore me to death, since there’s absolutely nothing in the way of entertainment in these rooms. But now I wonder if he’s trying to starve me to death.

  Just when I’m thinking about going to the front door and banging on it until someone comes back here to tell me what the hell is going on, Amethyst and Citrine come in.

&n
bsp; “Hey, you two!” I say, my voice enthusiastic even though our relationship hasn’t warmed up much since I woke up in here over a month ago. They still don’t have translator chips, still haven’t formally introduced themselves with names, and still talk about me in the third person like I’m not even there.

  But I can see they have a tray of food with them, so guess what? These two bitches are now my best damn friends.

  I attack the tray of golden berries, meats and cheeses before Citrine can set it all the way down on the table.

  “Look how she eats,” Citrine says. “It is like watching a d’funi graze.”

  So, the d’funi is a bovine-like animal, fat and squat with razor sharp teeth and an aggressive eating style that sends their feed flying in every direction. Citrine’s basically comparing me to the Xalthurian version of a messy cow. But again, she and Amethyst brought me food, so I can’t even be mad. Or stop eating.

  Besides I’m pretty sure I have a couple of d’funi to thank for the delicious slices of meat and the creamy rounds of cheese on the tray the two over-critical servants brought me.

  I’ve never seen or tasted these golden berries, but they’re yummy, too. Tart and a little aromatic, with a sweet aftertaste that lingers even after the rest of the food is gone.

  “Oh good, she is done eating. We will not have to watch this revolting display any longer,” Amethyst says gathering up the tray when I’m done.

  I must be feeling like my old self again, because even though I know they can’t understand me, I point out, “If you two bothered to get translation chips, you wouldn’t have to watch me eat. I would’ve happily dismissed you.”

  “She is talking to us yet again,” Citrine says to Amethyst. “Do you believe she will ever come to grasp that we cannot comprehend her words?”

  “I have heard that hu’mans can be exceedingly stupid,” Amethyst answers. “I am afraid she might never understand.”

  “Our poor Kel,” Citrine says. “He seems to have chosen a hu’man female more stupid than most. Not only is she incapable of understanding the most basic of concepts, but now she has made him the subject of gossip planet wide.”

  “Wait…what?” I demand.

  Amethyst makes a clicking sound, that I can only assume is the Xalthurian version of a tut. “If I were he, I would return her to her planet and pick another hu’man female to bear his child. Surely there must be a decently intelligent one among the lot—oh look, she is yelling now. Essh, what a frustrating dull little thing she is. Let’s away before she attempts to grab us again.”

  Okay, well, that’s exactly what I try to do when I hear they’re about to leave. I also yell at them, “No, don’t go yet! What do you mean I humiliated him? How? Will you guys at least gossip about the full details before you run out on me?’

  But, of course, they don’t understand a word I’m saying. And did I mention the Xalthurians are super fast? Amethyst and Citrine zip right out of the suite, the door closing behind them before I can even finish my protest. So, so fast. It makes me realize how much L’Than must have been slowing his stride to match mine during our walks.

  L’Than…another pang of guilt goes through me, thinking of him. Who was he exactly? And did he get away from those guards? I don’t know what L’Than did to make everyone, including D’Rek so upset with him, and by extension, me. But I can’t believe it was bad enough for him to get run down by soldiers.

  Now that I’m no longer weak with hunger, my mind works busily, trying to figure out not only what the hell is going on, but how to get a message to N’Maryah.

  The truth is she never talked about L’Than during our lunches, and always sent him away with a perfunctory ridge touch of thanks. I suspected she wasn’t nearly as into him as he was into her.

  But she hadn’t told him no yet, so she must kind of like him, right? And she’d mentioned several times that her father was a powerful merchant. It’s possible he could do something to intervene on L’Than’s behalf.

  With that thought, I open the comm panel I used to reverse call D’Rek when he was away. Maybe I can hack it again to get in touch with the only person who might be able to help L’Than now.

  But just as I think I’ve figured out which of the squiggly lines will let me override the room’s lockout command, I suddenly begin to feel…strange. Very strange.

  An ominous tension forms in my lower belly and my breasts become heavy as stones on my chest. Then my body starts to ache and tingle all over, like that one time when I caught a flu that knocked me flat out for three days.

  But this tingling sensation isn’t quite the same as that flu, I note, as I stumble away from the wall’s comm panel and helplessly sink down on my bed. My muscles ache, but not with pain. And my nerves are tingling, but not because my body is trying to create heat to fight off an infection. It’s more like…desire. Yes, desire, but not quite.

  I’d been afraid to take my dress off earlier for fear of never getting it back—the other shimmery body molding dresses disappeared during my first bout of sleep, like they’d never even been there. But now the dress feels constricting and heavy. The urge to strip hits me with the force of a falling redwood.

  I tear the dress off, sighing when my body is free of the clingy fabric. But my relief is short-lived. As soon as the cool air hits my skin, the desire ramps up, pebbling my nipples, and winding my belly tight with need. I look down at my naked pussy. Oh moons…it’s contracting in an out, like it has a mind of its own.

  I reach down and rub at myself, just as I had two nights before when I last spoke to D’Rek over the holocomm system. It doesn’t take long. I come with a quick burst, my pussy spasming underneath my fingers.

  But…it’s not enough. My pussy is still clenching air. Wanting, needing more. So I rub at it harder, consumed with the need to get off again, to sate this suddenly raging desire. Oh moons, what is happening to me? Why am I—

  “Do I have your permission, Ki’Ra?” a voice says above me.

  It’s D’Rek. I didn’t even hear him come in. But thank the moons he’s here.

  “Yes, you have my permission!” I cry out, reaching for him. “Please, D’Rek. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  After so long, I expect him to fall on top of me. To take me over and over as he did before he left out on his peace mission.

  But instead of disrobing, he squats down over my prone body. “You will tell me if you prefer above, in front, or behind,” he commands.

  “I don’t care,” I answer, desperately working my clit with my own hand. “Whatever. Just fuck me. However you want. Now, please.”

  “Above it is then.”

  I don’t notice that he has something hidden behind his back until he suddenly produces the golden immobilization cuffs.

  “Wait, what—” I start to say. Then, “No don’t!” when he roughly pulls my hand away from my pussy and traps it along with my other one above my head, before locking both of my wrists inside the immobilization cuffs.

  Above…

  I suddenly understand what he meant. But I don’t laugh as I so often do at our misunderstandings. No, I don’t laugh at all.

  “D’Rek, what are you—”

  “My Kel.”

  I pause. It’s the same old command, but his ridges lie flat against his face, and his black pupils glitter like two cold diamonds embedded in red. Though I’ve never seen this expression before, a word floats through my mind as I take in his countenance.

  Disgust. He’s disgusted by me.

  A new fear ripples through my gut, along with the potent desire.

  “Why?” I ask him. “Why are you doing this to me? Whatever it is you think I’ve done, you should just—”

  I cut off when he suddenly moves into position between my spread legs. His head dips down, his white braid scraping against my inner thigh as his mouth finds my pussy.

  Holy freaking moons, his tongue feels good. Better even than I remembered all those nights when I had nothing but my hand and my imaginatio
n. I watch him move over my pussy, plunging and circling, as his long tongue swirls into my tunnel.

  “Yes, D’Rek. Oh moons, thank you…”

  He stops as abruptly as he began.

  “My Kel,” he says again, coldly wiping my essence from his mouth with the back of one heavily veined blue arm.

  My body is screaming so loud about losing his mouth that it takes me a while to understand his meaning.

  But eventually, ugly comprehension pushes through my thick lust fog.

  Oh moons…he wants me to call him by his title. Moreover, he won’t bring me to orgasm or let me take care of my own self until I do.

  I want to scream in frustration. I want to hit him in anger. But mostly I want him to fuck me.

  I’m completely immobilized, save for my face, but desire continues to ripple through me, intense as an electrical current. My pussy pulses painfully with the need to clench, even though there’s nothing above it but air.

  What the moons is wrong with me? My lust-ridden state defies comprehension. Especially under these circumstances.

  That’s when my stomach drops out with a new realization. And though my mouth isn’t paralyzed, it takes me a few tries before I’m able to squeeze out the words. “You gave me something. Drugged me.”

  If I was expecting a denial from D’Rek or even a look of contrition, I’m sorely disappointed.

  He regards me just as coldly, as he answers, “The servants informed me that you ate the entire portion of ju’li berries.”

  Remembering the golden berries I scarfed down, I curse. “Why would you do that? Why would you drug me?”

  “I have spent a lot of the past month reading the few reports we had on the hu’mans, before I commissioned a new one,” D’Rek informs me. “We sent the ju’li berries with the first shipment of goods along with bushes for the hu’mans to plant. When we returned the next year, however, your leaders informed us those bushes had gone unplanted. Apparently, the ju’li berries had an adverse effect on the first few people who’d tried them. The hu’man leaders had been so overcome with lust, they’d ended up mating with not only their spouses but with each other, regardless of gender, for nearly half a day.”