by Presley Hall
His last words turn into a guttural moan as I manage to take more of him, the arousal that ripples through me making me enjoy this in a whole new way. I let go of him with my hand, holding on to his hips as I slide down those last few inches. My throat squeezes around him as I choke a little, and Brele sinks both hands into my hair, his whole body shuddering with the effort of staying still.
“Jade.” He groans again as I slowly slide upward, my tongue gliding over every inch of him. “Oh, krax…”
His eyes flutter closed then as I start moving in earnest, hand and lips and tongue working together as I slide up and down his shaft. I suddenly want very badly to bring him to climax, to feel him erupt in my mouth, to make him come undone.
“Jade, I…”
He’s close already. His cock feels like steel against my tongue, pulsing between my lips as I hollow my cheeks and suck.
“Krax.” He mutters the word, which I’m pretty sure is some kind of curse word with no direct translation. His hands grip my hair tightly, the slight sting sending a shock of sensation through my whole body.
Come, Brele. Come for me.
But before I can show him how badly I want him to let go, the ground shakes beneath our feet, hard enough that it makes us both jerk.
My heart jumps. I release him and draw back quickly, scrambling to my feet.
“What the hell was—”
The words aren’t even all the way out of my mouth when a deep rumbling sound fills the cave, cutting me off.
18
Brele
Krax!
A moment after the ground shakes and the rumbling sounds vibrate through the air, part of the cave just above us starts to collapse.
It begins in a small trickle of dust that quickly turns into an avalanche of dirt and rocks. My quick reflexes, honed over years of living alone in the wild and hunting for my food, are the only thing that keeps Jade and me from being crushed. I grab her and throw us both to one side, landing hard on the shore behind the waterfall as the debris crashes down, sending water splashing high into the air.
The rockslide lasts for several long moments, and I cover Jade’s body with my own, praying that we won’t be crushed.
Finally, the falling stones and debris subside. I stay still for another few heartbeats, waiting to make sure this new cave-in is truly over.
Couldn’t it have waited just a few more deshing minutes?
Frustration fills me as I help Jade get to her feet, my whole body throbbing with frustrated arousal. Even the knowledge that if things had gone farther, I likely would’ve been too distracted and overcome with pleasure to save us isn’t quite enough to stifle the regret. The memory of her on her knees in the shallow water, her full lips wrapped around my length, is enough to send a shudder of need down my spine.
Hang on to that memory, the bitter part of my thoughts tells me—the part that’s been alone for so very long. It’s probably never going to happen again.
But that’s the last thing I need to worry about at the moment.
“Are you all right?” I ask, scanning Jade for any signs of injury. None of the falling rocks hit us, but our landing wasn’t soft.
She nods, brushing mud off her wet clothes as I twitch my loincloth back into place. Then she comes to stand beside me, eyeing the massive pile of rocks that now sit between us and the rest of the cave. We’re safe enough, but we’re trapped in the little alcove behind the waterfall, completely blocked in, and I know that we have to get over the fallen stones somehow.
“Wait just a moment,” I tell Jade, gently putting a hand on her arm as she starts forward to navigate her way over the rocks. I engage my robotic eye, and it clicks softly as the mechanism turns on and begins analyzing the pile of debris. “I can get us over them safely. But you’ve got to take it slowly and follow me.”
To my surprise, she just nods, watching my face with fascination as I turn my head from side to side, letting my eye highlight all of the spaces where we can step without the rocks slipping beneath our feet.
“All right.” I look at her once I’ve finished my analysis, fighting back the urge to kiss her again. I know if I do, I won’t be able to stop. “Let’s go. Follow me, one step at a time.”
I didn’t know there was anything else about Jade that could strengthen the depth of my feelings for her. But as she follows me trustingly, placing one foot at a time in the places I point out, my heart squeezes in my chest.
After what I did so long ago, I thought no one would ever put such trust in me again. No one would ever follow me, believing that I could lead them through danger to safety on the other side. But despite being the most stubborn, headstrong woman I’ve ever met, Jade seems to believe that I’ll get us out of this in one piece if she follows my lead.
“Careful!” A spot in my vision turns red, right where Jade is about to step, and I throw my arm out in front of her to halt her. She freezes in place, waiting for me to point out the next rock that’s safe to step on.
It’s a painstaking process, both of us tense and waiting for the pile to shift and collapse further underneath us with every step. We were lucky to escape injury the first time, but if we get caught in another rockslide, there’s no telling whether we’ll manage to escape unscathed again. We’re both sweating. Jade’s hair is plastered to the side of her face, her expression set in intense concentration. But she doesn’t breathe a word of complaint.
At last, I step down into the water on the other side and reach up to lift her and set her down in the shallow part of the lake with me. As if sharing the same thought, we both plunge deeper into the water almost immediately, letting the coolness of it sluice over us to wash away the mud and sweat. Jade ducks beneath the surface and comes back up, her black hair slicked away from her face, and as the sunlight shines down on her pale skin, she looks so beautiful that it almost takes my breath away.
I glance up at the ceiling of the cave. The space there is bigger now—considerably so—since this latest collapse. But there’s still no easy way out without using the vines, and that will be difficult in its own right.
“The cave is getting more unstable,” Jade says quietly, splashing water on her face. “We need to hurry.”
Although her words are calm, nervousness is evident in the strain of her voice. I glance over at her, wanting her to believe that I won’t let anything happen to her.
“We need to get out of here as soon as we can,” I agree. “We need more vines. Come on.”
I extend a hand to her as we swim up out of the water, and I can see the trust in her eyes as she looks back at me. Something has shifted between us. I can feel it.
I just don’t know if it will be enough.
Using my robotic eye to scan the lake, I pick out large patches of weeds so that we can harvest them faster. I catch Jade watching me again, and she blushes.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just… well, I’ve never seen a cyborg before.”
“Is that what I am?” I laugh, yanking up another long vine from the lakebed.
“Part man, part robot,” she says with a small smile.
I can’t help but flinch a little at that. I hate the robotic part of me, the constant reminder of what I did, of why I’ll never be whole again. But Jade isn’t looking at me with horror or disgust. She’s looking at me with fascination, as if she’s amazed by what I’m doing.
“We wouldn’t be able to get out of here without you,” she says, something almost like awe in her voice. “That eye… you helped get us across the rocks safely.” She grimaces ruefully. “I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I’m good at a lot of things, but I’ve never been a wilderness kind of girl. I wouldn’t have made it out from behind the waterfall without you.”
I feel myself flush with pride at her words, ducking my head to look down at the vines so that she doesn’t see my reaction. It’s been a long time since I didn’t feel like a failure, since I haven’t felt completely
steeped in my own inability to save the people I loved the most.
For a moment, I feel like a man again, whole and complete, with a future in front of me and a woman I could love for the rest of my life.
And then my eye shifts in its socket, highlighting a new patch of vines in the water. The slight vibration of it is barely noticeable, but it’s a reminder of who I am. Of what I am. Something twists in my gut, a sick, uncomfortable feeling as I remember that no matter how fascinated Jade might be by my “cyborg” nature, she doesn’t know the truth of it.
I am this way because it’s what the Orkun made me. A monster who would betray his people, a beast who is part machine. I’ve been weaponized before, a chip implanted in my brain and used for pure evil, creating a wound in me that I don’t think can ever be healed.
I think that Jade, for all her protestations and hesitation, is starting to care for me. I can feel the shift in her, in the way she looks at me and speaks to me.
But would she still feel that way if she knew the truth about what I did? About who I really am?
19
Jade
I’m glad I got a quick dip in the lake after we made our way back to it, because harvesting the vines at this new breakneck pace is even harder than before, and I’m quickly drenched in sweat again. I glance at Brele, who’s working alongside me with relentless focus, and find that I can’t keep my gaze off him. I cut away at the vines methodically, looking over at him after each swipe of my knife.
Logically, I know what’s happening. We’ve been thrown into the deep end together, quite literally, since Brele’s fall and our tumble down into this cave. My rational mind knows that extreme circumstances can fast-forward a relationship, especially one fraught with as much desire and tension as ours was even before this.
Now we’re in a life and death situation, and I know that the intensity of those emotions is what’s making everything progress faster. Why wouldn’t I let myself give in to him when I might not even survive to see tomorrow if we can’t get out of here? And I’ve learned more about him in the past few days than I know I would have otherwise. People get to know each other quickly in crises when they depend on one another, and that’s exactly what’s happening here.
But deep down, I know it’s more than that.
I can’t help what I’m starting to feel for him—really feel—and I know it’s more than just the fact that we’re depending on each other to get out of this alive. Before this, all I felt for him was desire. Desire, I can fight. I know better than to depend on that, or to let myself get swept away by it. But there’s more now.
Brele has done what he said he would. He’s started to earn my respect, and my trust. I can appreciate more about him now than just his muscles and good looks. I can see that he is, for the first time in my experience, a man who does what he says, who follows through on his promises.
This is a man I could love. The thought drifts through my head as I watch him straighten, carrying a fresh pile of vines to the shore. This is a man I could trust with my heart.
I laugh to myself as I think of what Emma would say to that. She always joked that I was too stubborn and cynical to hand my heart over to anyone, and I always teased her back that she was just waiting for a fairytale prince to come sweep her off her feet.
But this doesn’t feel like the kind of romance I’ve always scoffed at, with flowers and hearts and silly sentiments. This feels like something being built on mutual respect, like two people depending on one another and finding that maybe they don’t want to stop.
Brele is on the shore beginning to braid the vines, and I gather up my own armful, joining him. We work as quickly as we can, braiding and knotting the vines into one long, thick rope.
It takes several hours, and by the time we’re done, my fingers feel raw and my heart is in my throat with nerves. When we started, I felt hopeful, but the reality of it is starting to sink in. If this doesn’t succeed, we’ll be trapped down here. Neither of us have been able to find any other way out.
When the rope is finished, Brele fashions the end of it into a loop that can tighten once he manages to hook it around something. He stands up, unfolding his long, muscular frame as he straightens to his full height, and looks down at me as I rise to my feet next to him.
My gaze meets his, and I can see anxiety in his face too. But he reaches out gently and touches the side of my face, the silver in his eye fading to a soft dove gray.
“Do you trust me?” His voice is quiet, his palm rough and warm against my cheek.
When I nod soundlessly, my eyes never leaving his, I know it’s the truth.
I do.
I trust him with my life.
Maybe even with my heart.
“Then let’s get out of here.” He smiles at me and strides into the lake.
The water splashes up around his muscular calves and thighs as he wades deeper. He gets as close as possible to the opening above us, looking for something to snag with the loop of the makeshift rope. I follow a little way behind him, watching as he scans the hole with his mechanical eye.
“There,” he says with satisfaction, and begins to swing the length of braided vine, getting enough speed with it that he can fling it up to the surface. I watch, biting my lower lip as he flings it up… and it immediately falls back down.
My breath catches in my throat. He tries again, with the same result, and my stomach clenches as the loop splashes down into the water. Fuck.
“I’m not giving up, Jade.” Brele’s expression is hard and determined. He doesn’t look over at me, just focuses on the opening above him as he swings the rope again. The muscles in his arms flex as he aims for the spot that he’s looking to snag.
I wait for the loop to fall, my heart sinking. But then he tugs on the rope, and I realize with a start that it’s caught.
“Brele?” I ask cautiously, afraid to believe that it actually worked.
He pulls on the rope harder, hauling on it with all his strength to test it. “It’s looped around a boulder,” he says with satisfaction. “I think it’ll hold. But we need to move quickly. We don’t know what part of the cave ceiling will be the next to collapse.”
“I’ll spot you,” I offer, but he shakes his head, catching my meaning even if he doesn’t understand the turn of phrase.
“No,” he says firmly. “You go first. You’re lighter than I am. If it’s going to hold either of us, it’ll be you. I’ll come up after.”
I open my mouth to argue. I know why he wants me to go first—he’s afraid the vine will only work once, and the first person who climbs up it will weaken it to the point that it’ll break on the second try. He wants to see me to safety before himself.
“Jade.” Brele speaks before I can, his voice soft but urgent. “We need to hurry.”
I relent and nod, coming forward to grab on to the vine. It’s slick with water, but I’m able to get a decent grip on it, and I thank my lucky stars for the years of training that have given me considerable upper-body strength. Hauling myself up to the surface won’t be easy, even with that.
Brele looks at me, his eyes meeting mine in a deep, searching gaze. And then, before I can move, he grabs the back of my head with one broad hand and pulls my mouth to his, kissing me hard and fast, but thoroughly.
“I’ll see you up there,” he says with conviction. “Now go.”
I make my way up inch by inch, going as quickly as I can but being careful not to lose my grip. If I only get one shot at this, I don’t want to screw it up by falling. My arms are burning by the time I’m halfway up the vine, but as the glare of the sunlight comes into view, the thrill of knowing I’m close to the surface is enough to get me those last inches up to the edge of the opening. I scramble up onto the grass, panting hard. My arms feel like noodles.
“Brele?” I lean over the edge, peering down to where he’s looking up at me. “I made it!”
His face goes momentarily slack with relief, then hardens again with fresh determinati
on.
“Listen to me, Jade,” he calls up. “If the vine breaks, or I can’t get up there, don’t you dare come back down here. Do you understand me?”
My mouth drops open again, and this time I do argue. “What? You can’t mean that!” I stare down at him, shaking my head vigorously. “I’m not leaving you!”
“Yes, you are.” His tone is flat, allowing no question about how serious he is. “You’re not following me down here again like you did before. If the vines break, I’ll try again. But if they do, you need to go. Gather supplies and weapons from my house and then get to the capital city, Jocia. Ask for Prince Khrelan.” Something crosses his face when he says the prince’s name, something I don’t quite understand. But he doesn’t stop speaking long enough for me to think about it. “He’s a fair and just man. He’ll help you. But you cannot wait for me, Jade.”
“But…”
“Don’t make this all for nothing,” he says softly. “Please.”
His words hit me right in the chest.
It’s not a command, not an outright order. He probably knows me well enough by now to know I wouldn’t obey anyway.
So he’s asking. Asking me to let him put my life before his. The enormity of that almost steals my breath away, and even though I’m not sure I can do what he asks, I close my mouth against further protests.
Sitting back on my heels, I watch him pull on the vines, testing them. He begins to climb hand over hand, and I hold my breath, my heart in my throat as he makes the slow ascent.
When he’s halfway up, I glance over at the boulder. My stomach drops as I see that the vines in the loop are beginning to fray and loosen, coming apart as Brele’s weight drags on them.
“Brele, hurry!” I shout and lunge forward, grabbing the rope at the end of the loop with both hands. My already tired arm muscles scream with pain as I throw my weight backward, doing everything I can to help drag him up. I don’t know how long I can hold on, but the determination to keep him from falling seems to outweigh everything else.
