by Isabel Wroth
As the gel closed over her face, Ilaria wondered if that had been a factor in why it had been so difficult to regain her abilities.
Ilaria supposed it didn’t matter, because minute by minute she could feel those bruised and bleeding pathways in her mind beginning to repair and reconnect themselves.
She could feel the flow of universal energy coursing through her in nearly euphoric rivers, practically bubbling at her fingertips.
She kept herself submerged until the need for oxygen became too great, thankful for Aley’s help in sitting up. If not for his hand behind her neck, she would have gone slipping and sliding all over the inside of the large tub.
~Keep your eyes closed, love. I’ll wipe the gel off your face.
When she opened her eyes and looped her arms around Aley’s neck to stand, she heard Satesh give a soft hiss.
Ilaria glanced his way and saw his aura had flooded the space around him like a sensual red halo, his glowing amber eyes on fire with lust as he struggled not to stare.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” Aley rumbled aloud, shifting his body slightly to shield her from Satesh’s sight.
She smiled up at Aley and shook her head. “It’s alright. It will take time to remember our bodies are our own again. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Satesh. Nudity was prevalent among the slaves. Not all of us were granted such luxuries as clothes.”
“I am not uncomfortable,” Satesh answered, his voice thick with desire he did nothing to hide.
He offered Aley a thick robe regardless, and soon she was bundled into the soft material, the gel having cooled to an icy second skin.
“The enzyme shower is there, and so long as you allow it, you will have every luxury I can provide.”
Aley hoisted her into his arms, and as he carried her toward the enzyme shower, Ilaria turned her smile to Satesh.
“Your generosity means the world to us. Thank you. If you have time to spare, I would very much like to speak with you about some important matters.”
“I will make time,” Satesh promised. “The evening meal will be served soon. I will send someone to guide you to my quarters.”
In the small bathing chamber, Aley carefully set Ilaria on her feet and kept hold of her until her slick feet found purchase.
It took two cycles of the enzyme wash to remove all traces of the gel from her body, and Ilaria was certain she had never felt so clean.
Aley helped her into the clothes Satesh had provided, intently focused as he closed the unbelievably soft halves of the gorgeous purple tunic dress together.
The sleeves were long to keep her warm, the chest area heavily embroidered with shimmering gold thread, scooped low to reveal the tops of her breasts.
Aley’s fingers were nimble and quick as he slipped the buttons into their loops, her belly exposed from the underside of her ribcage on down. The hem of the tunic flirted around her ankles with a wide gold ribbon.
He knelt at her feet and drew a silky cloth between her legs that tied at each hip, and from the appreciative sound Aley made, the way the material cupped and covered her sex was quite provocative.
He glanced up and smiled when she laughed, but her laugh turned to a soft sigh, adoration pumping through every corner of her body when he took her hands. He pressed a kiss to the center of each before setting them on his shoulders, wordlessly urging her to use him for balance as he held a pair of voluminous purple trousers up for her to step into.
He cinched the drawstring snug around her hips, reached for the gold slippers with a whimsical curve to the toes, a little bell hanging from the point that chimed softly when Aley gave them a wiggle.
“We’ll save these for another time.”
Even with her belly bare and the tops of her breasts pushed up toward the neck of her tunic, it was the most beautifully modest set of clothes Ilaria had worn in a very long time.
Aley had been shirtless the entire time she sat in the tank of regen-gel, but once she was dressed, he produced a vest similar to the one Satesh had worn from where he’d tucked it into the back of his plain green trousers and shrugged it on.
“Satesh desires you,” he told her bluntly, in a very carefully neutral tone.
Just as carefully, Ilaria replied, “I know. Does it bother you?”
Aley tilted his head to the side, his gaze quickly rising to touch on her face, scrutinizing her expression before sliding away.
She reached out to button his vest, wanting some kind of connection as he was working hard to keep her out of his thoughts.
“Yes and no, for the same reason.” Aley finally answered.
“Which is?”
“I know you care deeply for me, and I do not doubt my place in your heart, but if you let him, he will do exactly as he said. He will give you everything. Things you deserve. Things I will never be able to give.”
In a heartbeat, Ilaria knew precisely what things Aley was referring to. He loved her deeply, and Ilaria knew it, felt it in every fiber of her being. But his love could only physically be expressed in so many ways.
Aley had been the property of a Game Warden his entire life, born into slavery, healing the Warden’s stable of gladiators as soon as Aley’s abilities had grown strong enough.
His skin was carved with scars someone else had earned. They told not only the story of Aley’s suffering, but that of the countless males and females the Warden had ordered Aley to heal.
Unless he underwent excruciating and potentially crippling surgery, Aley would never sire children. Would never know what it felt like to pleasure himself or her with his cock.
It had not and did not matter to Ilaria if they never coupled via penetrative sex, there were so many other ways in which they could share the physical act of love with one another, but to him, it was important.
“Among the slaves on my homeworld, it was not uncommon for a female to have multiple male partners, and I would not be so foolish as to refuse if it was your wish to have a male who is whole to give what I cannot.
“So, in that way, no, I am not bothered. But I at the same time I don’t think I could bear it if he refused to allow me—”
So intent on purging his words, Aley startled when Ilaria gently pressed her fingertips to his beautiful, perfect lips and silenced him.
Ilaria had not told Aley the true scope of the abilities a Matavei was capable of harnessing because, in truth, she worried she would never regain all she had learned during her etheric travels. But she could feel those abilities, just out of reach, waiting for her physical body to grow strong enough to channel such powerful energies.
Ilaria did not tell him now, because she needed time to practice. To be completely certain. But she did not need powers to soothe Aley’s doubts and fears,
“I cannot deny it. Satesh may become part of whatever fate we choose to make for ourselves, but it is not yet written. I have not had nearly enough time to learn what kind of man he is.
“I hope you will believe me when I tell you, there is nothing he or anyone else could give me that would make me turn away from you. Nothing, Aley.”
Relief shook through Aley like a gust of wind rattling through a stand of trees, those doubts and fears falling like dead leaves as she pushed beyond the flimsy barrier he had erected between his mind and hers, filling him with her feelings of certainty and love until the shadows eased from his eyes.
~There is no being in the universe capable of giving me anything close to the love and care you have bestowed upon me.
The place you hold in my heart is yours alone, Aley, and no matter what you may think of yourself, you are perfect to me as you are. I will never give you up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Satesh~
The effects of the emo-dampener had long since worn off, but as Satesh watched, Aley set Ilaria on her feet and wrapped a supportive arm around her waist, patiently keeping hold of her while she took slow, clumsy steps forward, Satesh wished he still felt numb.
The intimacy betw
een them ran so much deeper than Satesh had initially thought and was uncomfortable to watch. Not because of Aley’s unsightly visage, but because Satesh wanted to be there on Ilaria’s other side to support her, and there seemed to be no place for him in their embrace.
After laying waste to Margen’s palace, after finding the desiccated bodies of his brothers and the serum hadn’t kept his emotions at bay, Satesh had sunk deep into his grief.
The only time the agony of his failures as a brother and the pain of his new reality without Shahin and Sorosh constantly underfoot and causing trouble became somewhat bearable, were the moments when he had been in Aley’s company over the course of the last three days.
Satesh was conflicted. Bombarded with emotions he was not prepared to handle. Yet as soon as Aley got near, the cacophony of feelings settled to a more manageable murmur, allowing Satesh to appreciate Ilaria’s unique beauty fully.
When he had been younger and wilder, Satesh had enjoyed the pleasures of all sorts of females, each one a rare and exotic flower of their species.
Though he had appreciated their beauty and their differences, the memories of their many pleasures faded to pale shadows in Ilaria’s presence.
Dhjana women were dark of hair, with beautiful bronze skin and large amber colored eyes. Ilaria had skin pale as moonshine that shimmered as though she was bathed in radiant beams no matter where she went.
The rich royal purple of her tunic brought out the hints of the same color hidden in her black hair, making the lighter shade of her eyes so vibrant they seemed almost artificial.
The clothing style flattered her figure, the bare strip of her belly making his hands curl with the urge to cup her waist, to hold her steady while he used his lips to judge the softness of her skin.
He swallowed thickly when she caught him staring, her plump pink lips curling into an easy smile.
His heart surged, his blood pumped harder through his veins, his cock threatening to rise to the occasion.
The desire that turned his blood hot with need was for Ilaria alone, but he could not deny the need to also be near Aley.
Her cheeks warmed as though she could read his innermost thoughts, and perhaps she could. But she didn’t say anything, and thankfully, neither did Aley.
Satesh pursed his lips to draw in a breath of air, hoping to cool his ardor enough to speak normally.
“How are you feeling?”
“Refreshed,” Ilaria sighed happily.
In all the days he had spent watching her within the safety of his armor, her eyes had been dull with pain and fear. To see her smile without the taint of terror was a heady thing.
“Thank you very much for all you’ve done.” She told him sincerely, “Not just for us, but for the other slaves you liberated.”
“Former slaves,” Satesh corrected firmly, hustling around the large dining table to pull a chair out for Ilaria to sit. “Did the slippers not fit comfortably?”
At her confused look, Satesh jerked his chin at the gold slippers tucked into the waistband of Aley’s trousers.
“Oh, no. They fit perfectly, but shoes seem to make it harder for me to find my balance. I see now where all Margen’s prized haruus fish went!”
Ilaria’s laugh sounded like bells as a pair of women brought in a platter with an enormous red fish artfully coiled nose to tail, steaming fragrantly and surrounded with fresh vegetables grown onboard.
In observing the queen of Myst, the only thing Satesh could say she cared about with any passion was a floor to ceiling tank in her quarters filled with over fifty of the scarlet fish.
The fish was easily the length of his leg, and about as thick, hence why it took two people to lift the platter onto the table.
The chefs had done a spectacular job in determining which spices and ales paired with the aquatic creature. The result was a succulent, flaky, treat.
“They were the only thing she seemed to have any love for,” Satesh managed to say with a modicum of calm. Aley murmured a polite thank you to the female who poured his wine, very clearly choosing not to react to the way the girl flinched away.
“Mira, you can go.”
Mira looked his way from under her lashes, turned a mortified pink and ducked her head before she quickly hustled out. Mira’s mother, Saiah, was quick to apologize on behalf of her daughter, but Aley graciously waved it aside.
“It’s quite alright. Understandably, I’ve frightened my fair share of children.”
Saiah’s brow furrowed as she gave an incredulous snort. She rounded the table and in the most motherly fashion, reached out to cup Aley’s cheek in her palm.
“It is not understandable. My daughter is young and foolish, thinking physical beauty is what tells the measure of a man’s worth. You are a strong, beautiful man, and anyone who cares to look can see it.”
After delivering her kind, firm declaration, Saiah excused herself. Ilaria gave a gentle bump of her shoulder to Aley’s, continuing their conversation as though nothing untoward had happened.
“After a particularly brutal feeding, Margen spent hours staring at these fish. She enjoyed watching them fight for the few morsels of food she would give them.
“I’m not sure why she was so enamored of them, but she cleaned their tank herself, fed them herself.”
Satesh wondered perhaps if he had made a grave error in serving the fish when Ilaria reached out and traced her fingertip along the edge of one long, shimmering fin.
“I felt your presence for nearly a month, including the night you stole the fish,” her riveting gaze rose to his, and once again Satesh felt the power of it in his groin. “You came close to my pallet on the floor and stood over me for a long time. Why?”
“Two of my people were emptying the tank, and I wanted to be close in case Margen woke up. And to see her reaction when she realized her pets were missing.”
“What did she take from you?” Ilaria asked astutely.
Satesh licked the bitter taste of grief from his lips, his throat constricting around his brother’s names, his self-loathing, his failure to protect them, his anger, rising to choke him.
His fingers stroked the stem of his dinner knife, the flash of light on the blade bringing with it the satisfying memory of gutting Margen. It was a hollow gratification because it did nothing to bring Shahin and Sorosh back.
“My brothers were returning to their shuttle after enjoying the pleasures of a well-known brothel. They were accosted and captured, sold. By the time I found out, they had already arrived on Myst.
“When I made overtures to bargain for their safe return, Margen demanded I give two hundred of my strongest warriors in exchange, only to snatch my hope away by revealing the battered remains of my brothers, hung in chains behind her like trophies.
“All I had left was to avenge their deaths, and I vowed to take everything Margen cared about from her before I was through. But all she cared about was causing pain, cultivating power, and a tank filled with fish.
“It wasn’t enough. I had plans to take Margen's entire palace down around her slowly, destroy her power base, her credibility, hopefully, her sanity.”
“Why didn’t you?” Ilaria asked gently.
The compassion in her tone caused him to look away from the dull edge of his knife, finding such empathy in her expression, another weight settled on his chest and made it harder for him to speak.
It felt as though jagged shards of glass dug and sliced into his throat as he swallowed.
“I was too late to help my brothers, but all three hundred and forty-seven of the people held captive by Margen and the others, I could do something for them.”
Satesh wanted to confess he had increased the speed of his attacks after hearing Margen’s plans to force a pregnancy on Ilaria, but the words stalled on the tip of his tongue.
Ilaria’s arm moved, perhaps to reach beneath the table to take Aley’s hand, or to caress his thigh. Satesh wasn’t sure, but he desperately wished to know what a kind touch from
the strange, hypnotic female felt like.
“Despite the terrible circumstances that brought you to Myst, we are very grateful for our freedom,” Aley told him seriously, sparing a glance at Ilaria before Satesh became his sole focus, “but what now?”
Satesh sighed and leaned back in his chair, acknowledging the suspicious squint Aley gave with a nod,
“Now, families can be reunited. Those stolen from their lives can go home. I have several of my smaller cargo ships preparing to take the freed slaves back to their planets of origin.”
His guests shared another look, and this one concerned him. Ilaria shrugged as though the two of them were carrying on a silent conversation, and not for the first time Satesh was envious of the strength of their bond. Grinding his teeth, he fought to keep the bark of temper from his tone,
“Is something wrong?”
Ilaria rolled her lips together and tipped her head back and forth with indecision.
“No. Your generosity and kindness to us is such a contrast to what we’ve experienced, and it’s somewhat of a shock. And, unfortunately, not all of the people you rescued from Myst have a home planet to return to.
“The majority were born into slavery and releasing them back into the universe to go their own way may sound like the ultimate gift, but those born into chains know no other way of life. They will need care and time, a place to belong and feel safe. But most of all, a purpose.”
Satesh didn’t disagree with her assessment of the needs of the abused horde of people occupying every spare cabin he had on board.
Neither did he disagree with the careful choice of her words, which suggested the Dhjana—a free people used to a nomadic lifestyle—were not the ideal choice to care for the former slaves long-term.
His decision to bring all three hundred and forty-seven slaves onboard had been impulsive and not wholly thought out. Satesh hadn’t had any other choice than to do something. Anything, rather than stand by and allow any more pain and death.
Something to the way Ilaria was cautiously pleading their case led Satesh to believe she had thought it through and formed a plan.
His curiosity won out, and he waved his hand at the food-laden table, inviting she and Aley both to eat while they talked.
