Oh, I want a mate, Calliope. I just don’t want you.
The harshness of his thought surprised him.
She ignored his bared teeth, closing the distance between the two of them to press her body flush against his. If she were truly his mate, her large breasts and hardened nipples should have aroused him. If she were his mate, he would not hesitate in claiming her the way that he wished to do so with Aella.
Calliope raised her hand, her fingers toying with his crest. Ordinarily, his crest was very sensitive, it being an erogenous zone for his kind, but pleasure did not spread from its tip, down through his belly and to his groin; revulsion tightened the muscles in his stomach and his lips twitched with the need to snarl at her for daring to touch when he had not welcomed her to do so.
“What is the matter?” she asked him, her fingers still playing with his flattened crest. She frowned at him and pressed her chest closer to his. “You’ve let me see your crest before. Is it such a terrible thing to be mated to me? We’ve always been very close, Amon.”
“I do not know how this happened, Calliope, but we are not mates,” he rumbled. He jerked his head sharply when she tugged on his crest a little too playfully.
“Deny it all you will,” she teased him, a beautiful smile curling her lips. “I know it’s the truth. If we weren’t destined for each other, neither of us would have produced our bioluminescence. You know it to be true.”
Her words shattered the small amount of hope that lingered in his heart.
Just because he wanted the curvy human female for his own did not mean that she was destined to be his.
Songiell only produced bioluminescence for their mates. How was he to know if it happened right away or years after meeting one another? His people did not live in tight knit communities the way that humans and other races did. They formed small family units and lived together until their young were old enough to fend for themselves.
But Malekith broke his people’s traditions, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. He mated Clara when he was supposed to serve as a Maleorack to one of the females of the Underground City.
“Calliope,” he sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Do you really want me for a mate?”
“Of course, I do!” she cried. “Amon, I’ve wanted to be your mate for solar cycles but neither one of us ever produced bioluminescence in front of the other. It wasn’t until you rescued the human that you glowed for me.”
“And you for me,” he murmured.
She stared up into his eyes, searching his face.
“Is it so horrible that I’m your mate?” she asked him softly. “We’ve known each other for well over 30 solar cycles.” She offered him the shy smile of a few days before, when they saw each other for the first time in seven solar cycles. She trailed her fingers along his crest, unexpectedly gentle. “I know what arouses you, Amon,” she whispered, her ruby eyes sparkling, “just as you know what arouses me.”
Amon settled his hands on her hips, his thumbs caressing the delicate pectoral fins that flared from her abdomen. She shivered under his touch. He ran his hands up her slender waist and cupped her large breasts. He flicked his tongue between his lips, tasting her arousal on the air, and he tried to savour her flavour on his tongue. He lowered his head, his nostrils flaring, and blew over her breasts, her nipples hardening from his warm breath. With narrowed eyes, he watched her slit open like a blossoming flower.
She rolled her hips forward in an instinctive thrust, her arousal filling the air with her unique pheromones. Before he met Aella, the scent and taste of Calliope’s pheromones promised him an evening of pleasure with a female he cared about; there was never any urge to mate with her, though, and, now, above all, the instinct to breed his mate should be all-consuming. Yet his body remained unaffected by Calliope’s open display.
He drew away from her, slithering to the kitchenette on the other side of his living quarters.
“I’m sorry, Calliope,” he growled, unable to hide the rasp in his throat, “but I need time …”
Time to come to terms with the fact that you and I are mates.
Time to come to terms with the fact that I do not want to touch you.
Time to come to terms with the fact I want to touch Aella.
Time to come to terms with the fact that I never will.
She did not say anything.
The door slid closed behind her with a soft electronic hiss.
* * *
Aella.
She gazed out over the loch.
Three days, she thought.
She remained aboard the Solar Flare’s medical wing for three whole days before General Amon escorted her to her hotel near Fort Augustus. It still amazed her that she had walked out of the medical wing on her own without the aid of pain killers or crutches; her muscles ached but the soreness resembled that of a workout at the gym – not that of someone who survived a deadly car crash. She lifted a hand and ran her fingers through her hair, searching for any sign of the wound that concussed her when she slammed into the driver’s side window; there wasn’t even a scar to indicate what had happened to her.
After thanking General Amon profusely for saving her life, she entered her room at the quaint bed-and-breakfast where she was staying until she mended her relationship with her sister. She had checked with the staff to see if Thea or Colin had messaged her but there were no messages waiting for her. Hurt welled inside of her. Her lips quivering, she stormed into the bathroom and ran a hot shower where the water masked her tears.
Now, a few hours later, she stood overlooking the loch from the balcony of Fort Augustus’ main hall.
Today was the memorial for those who had lost their lives fighting for Earth’s freedom.
Her father’s plane, along with his squadron, fell to a Gray drone ship while protecting the city of Inverness. What he, and the other members of the military, did not know was that the Gray drone ship was a decoy; while her father fought to save the thousands of people within the city itself, the Mothership eradicated Inverness with one single well-placed bomb. Forty thousand people died instantly and, now, the cold waters of Loch Ness flooded the crater where the city once stood.
She absently swirled her wine glass, the cup resting in her palm and her fingers tapping against the smooth surface.
She glanced over her shoulder, catching a fleeting glimpse of her reflection in the beautiful French doors that opened up onto the balcony. She wore an elegant black dress that subtly emphasized her curves (in all the right ways) yet remained classy for this event and a pair of silver heels that matched her jewellery. She styled her hair in a loose knot on the back of her head, several tendrils framing her heart-shaped face.
Several dozen people mingled in the main hall, women in lovely dresses and men in handsome suits, talking quietly amongst each other about the war or reminiscing about a lost loved one. She scanned the crowd in search of her sister.
Why am I even bothering? She thought despondently, her shoulders slumping. It’s clear that she’s not even here.
She turned to stare out over the loch.
“Why are you out here all alone?”
General Amon’s deep velvety voice rolled over her senses like molasses, slow, smooth and with just hint of sweetness that left her begging for more.
He joined her out on the balcony, resting his hands on the railing as he turned his massive body towards her, his chest rising and falling with his breathing.
“To think,” she said truthfully.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Several months ago, when they first declared the war to be over, Aella watched Commander Ska’arzal on the television as he stood alongside presidents and prime ministers, kings and queens, and paid his respect to their fallen. She thought him incredibly handsome with his opalescent horns gleaming with streaks of blue and purple fire, dressed in his uniform and draped in a black cloak.
Commander Ska’arzal could not compare to General Amon.
General Amon was dressed all in black in a material that resembled leather but was far more durable in battle. Upon his breast rested a broach in the shape of a 9-pointed star with the curling figures that represented the Interstellar Alliance and his rank. His energy blaster and blade were strapped in their holsters on his thighs. He wore a cloak, the clasps on his shoulders gleaming silver in the light. Unlike many of the ranking officers out in the hall, Amon did not wear any medals awarded to him.
“To think about what?” he asked her.
A cool, spring breeze ruffled the loose tendrils of her hair and she crossed her arms over her breasts against the sudden chill.
The next moment, Amon placed his cloak over her shoulders, his fingers fastening the clasps in front together. His electric blue eyes searched her face, the ring of black around his slit pupils sparkling with hints of blue in their depths. She watched in fascination as tiny lights danced around his eyes and cheeks – his bioluminescence. Her fingers twitched with the desire to touch him.
“My life,” she said after a few moments of silence stretched between them.
Amon’s brow ridges lowered in a frown and his nostrils flared. Blue light rippled around his eyes and cheeks, the spines on his dorsal fin and the tip of his tail.
“Your life?” he rumbled.
She nodded.
“My father was a pilot.”
“Yes,” Amon murmured. “I remember hearing his name during the memorial. People speak very highly of him.”
Ducking her head, she smiled up at Amon.
“He was an even better dad,” she said. “He loved me and Thea and Mom with everything he had. He died protecting Earth from the Grays. Even if it was a trick, and he’d known it, he still would’ve gone because that’s the kind of man he was.”
She tugged his cloak tighter around her shoulders, the material swirling around her legs, trying to prevent tears from stinging her lashes.
Amon closed the distance between the two of them. He gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against his chest; the very tip of his tail coiled around her ankle.
“It’s okay to grieve,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair.
She laughed, shaking her head, her eyes closed.
“I know,” she said, her voice muffled. “I just … I just miss him so much and I think Thea blames me for his and Mom’s death because she won’t speak to me about anything. I don’t even know why I bothered coming here. We paid respects to our fallen back home but I wanted to come here, where Daddy died, and say goodbye to him one last time and maybe mend things between me and Thea but…”
Amon’s arms tightened around Aella.
“Grief can cause people to behave in mysterious ways,” he rumbled in her ear, again nuzzling her hair. “Your sister will come around.”
Aella laughed bitterly.
“Do you remember the night you rescued me?” she asked him and, when he nodded, she continued, “I was driving back to my hotel from my sister’s that night because she refused to let me spend the night.”
His electric blue eyes widened.
She offered him a bitter smile.
“She wants absolutely nothing to do with me and she’s all I have left of my family,” she said, hurt lacing each and every word that she spoke. “I don’t know why. She says it’s because she’s busy but – but” – her voice cracked and her eyes sparkled with tears – “if you love someone, you’ll go out of your way to make time for them.”
She turned and buried her face in Amon’s chest, her lips quivering, hot tears spilling down her cheeks and her shoulders shaking with the sobs she held inside of her.
Amon hummed softly in the back of his throat, not quite a growl and not quite a hiss either. The sound vibrated through her body.
Neither of them spoke for a very long time.
After a while, Aella drew back but Amon refused to let her leave the circle of his arms.
“Come stay with me on my ship,” he said.
She stared up at him. “W – what?”
“Come stay with me on my ship,” he repeated, staring intently into her eyes. “You are lonely, Aella, and I see no reason for you not to come with me.”
“Oh.” A soft blush coloured her cheeks. “Okay, yes, I suppose I can come with you. For a few days. But what about Lady Calliope?”
“Calliope will not mind,” Amon growled.
5
Aella
She stared around the General’s chambers with open curiosity, too polite, however, to keep her mouth dropped open in awe.
His quarters were large, far larger than even those of a luxury apartment in the city of New York where people would spend millions of dollars a month for such space. She glanced shyly over at General Amon. He stood off to her side, his shoulders back, his chest out, his tail rigid behind him. She hadn’t really noticed his size when they shared an intimate moment on the balcony at her father’s memorial but, now, with just each other for company, she found herself watching him a little more warily than she expected.
His tongue flicked between his lips and a blush coloured her cheeks and warmth flooded her insides. The hair on the back of her neck prickled warningly.
“Are you afraid, Aella?” he asked her, his deep voice causing the muscles in her belly to tighten. He stared at her intently, his electric blue eyes bright, his blue bioluminescence glowing softly around his eyes and cheeks. He slithered closer to her, the muscles in his enormous tail flexing with the movement, and she inadvertently took a step back. “You needn’t be.”
He did not corner her or press her body against the wall to prevent her escape; he circled her slowly until his tail formed a loose coil around her legs. The warmth that flooded her insides traveled south to her groin, beginning to gently pulse with her growing arousal. His lips curved in a smile that revealed his lethal fangs. Closing the distance between the two of them, he lifted a hand to caress her jaw, his fingers trailing over her delicate skin to tenderly tuck a strand of her hair behind an ear.
“Amon,” she breathed, his name a sigh upon her lips.
His blue eyes flared and his entire body trembled as bioluminescence raced along the tips of his spines on his dorsal fin and the lower part of his tail.
“Yes, Aella?”
He invaded her space and yet he did not; she could easily step over the coil that encircled her but that would mean leaving him. For some strange reason, she found herself attracted on several levels to the general that greatly resembled the sea serpents of legend. Everything about him intrigued her – from the way he would flick his tongue, to the way the muscles in his massive tail undulated with every movement, to the way that he would glow blue around her. And she liked him. She liked the way that he looked at her, too, as if he wanted to devour every inch of her flesh and consume her.
But…
He has a mate, she reminded herself sternly. As much as she wanted to explore their budding relationship, Aella could not, in good conscience, ruin the bond that existed between the mated pair. She refused to be anyone’s mistress. She knew very little about the other beings that humans shared the universe with but she had figured out that the bond between a mated pair was sacred; perhaps more so than any human’s marriage vows.
Reluctantly, she placed her hand upon Amon’s massive chest.
“Amon, we need to stop this,” she said, her shoulders slumping.
He blinked at her slowly and she watched his pupils’ contract.
“This?” he echoed.
“What would your mate think about the two of us being alone together in your private quarters?” she asked him.
Amon slowly lowered his hand, his fingers trailing lingering caresses upon her skin as he drew back. His brow ridges lowered over his electric blue eyes, his dorsal fin flaring slightly upward and the tip of his tail twitched as his tongue darted between his lips.
“Lady Calliope and I …” He trailed off, his frown deepening. “Our relationship is complicated, Aella.”
“Complicated?”
He met her gaze and offered her a small, crooked smile before his handsome features shifted into a frown once more.
“Humans are not the only species in the galaxies with complex relationships, you know,” he pointed out.
Now she offered him a small smile and a soft laugh bubbled up from her lips. His blue eyes flared and a tremble raced from the very top of his head to the tip of his tail. She didn’t know what that shudder meant but butterflies fluttered in her lower belly.
“I’d like to know more if you’re willing to talk to me,” she said. “Sometimes,” she added a little shyly, “it helps to talk someone who isn’t actually involved in the situation.”
Amon lifted his hand and absently rubbed at his crest – the large part of his dorsal fin upon his head that flared upwards, the spine on its tip glowing a brilliant, electric blue.
He sank down upon a large lounge chair, the length of it comfortably accommodating Amon’s enormous bulk. He rested his back against the armrest, his tail slowly winding into loose coils that he settled underneath him. He gestured for her to sit and she sat down in a seat opposite him.
“I have known Lady Calliope since she and I were mere hatchlings,” he began, his blue eyes intent upon her and she found her heart beating rapidly in her chest. “Songal is a planet that is covered in water. My people reside in the depths of its oceans. Lady Calliope was shunned for much of her life because of her unique colouring.”
Aella frowned, lifting a hand to stroke her chin thoughtfully.
“What is wrong with being an albino?” she asked. “You say you live in the depths but … At that range, no one should really be able to see colour. Should they?”
“Perhaps here the beings on your planet have developed poor eyesight in the depths but my species rarely breach the shallow seas of Songal. Our eyesight has been perfectly adapted for hunting in the depths of our seas and we can see colour. Lady Calliope would glow in the darkness.”
Blooming Desire Page 42
