by Kiersten Fay
An eddy of disappointment swirled in Tristan’s mind. Surprisingly, he’d been enjoying the human’s conversation.
As she turned to head after the group, another woodland beast cried out…and then streaked across her path so fast it was but a blur, even to Tristan’s eyes. She stumbled back in a rush, nearly crashing into Tristan. He lightly gripped her by the shoulders to prevent it, but then suddenly had the impulse to tug her against him the rest of the way. Strange.
Instead, he turned her around to face him. Her eyes had gone stark again, and her skin had drastically paled.
“Come now, explorer. You’re not frightened of a tiny woodland creature, are you?”
“You call that tiny? We have animals smaller than that on Earth that can rip your throat out in a single chomp.” She created the visual with her hand on her throat.
This Earth did not sound safe. “Nothing will get you while you’re with me.”
“How can you be so confident? Didn’t you see how fast that thing moved? It was like a cheetah…if cheetahs had learned the forbidden art of Sonic the Hedgehog.”
Her references were lost on him, but he caught the gist. “Just stick close to me and you’ll be fine.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Still hoping to follow Orik? For some reason that grated. She sighed when she saw the others were out of sight. “I don’t really have a choice.”
He released her. “Then you’d better keep up.”
She rushed to match pace with him, standing much closer now, gaze darting as if she expected the sonic-cheetah-hedgehog to double back and attack any second. The heat of her body brushed his skin. Another of those impulses came over him, the urge to place his arm around her in reassurance, but he squashed it.
“Most of the animals here are benign,” he told her.
“Most, but not all? It only takes one raptor to open your belly with the flick of his talons.”
By the gods, what sort of predators resided on her home world? “Every planet has its beasts of prey, but I would know if any were near.”
He’d meant to reassure her, but she only grew more anxious. He could transform into his dragon form and fly her to where she felt safe, but the encompassing forest hindered him…and she’d likely become panic-stricken if she did. She spoke of talons. His were the size of her head. He could imagine her running from him into the woods, even more terrified of him than the forest.
He decided it best to try to distract her. “What else did my mother tell you about us?”
She put her finger on her chin. “Well, you’re from a planet called…Lego-something.
“Legura.”
“You’re the king of your people.” She slanted a glance at him in disbelief. “Your kind practically live forever. Like a thousand times longer than humans. Is that right?”
He nodded. “We are what’s known as a long-lived race.”
“How old are you? Uh, if you don’t mind my asking. Is that a rude question?”
“Not at all. I’ve lived about half a century or so.”
She gasped, her tone raising in pitch. “Or so?”
“You stop counting after a while.”
“Humans count every birthday like it’s a countdown.” Yet again, sounds from the forest made her jumpy, claiming her attention.
“So then how old are you?” he asked.
Her head snapped around. “You don’t ask a lady her age.”
“Oh? Well, you couldn’t be more than a hundred and fifty, give or take.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
He glanced down at her horrified expression. “Is that young for a human?”
“No! I’d be ancient! Let’s just say I’m younger than you and leave it at that, Grandpa.”
He waited for her to continue the conversation, but her worried gaze was back to scanning the forest. “Tell me of the Star Trek. You suggested I would enjoy it.”
Between skittish glances through the trees, she looked him up and down, as though by his bearing alone she could assess his character. “You strike me as more of a Star Wars fan.”
“Is that the better of the two?”
She snorted. “Star Wars fans would like to think so.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“I’m partial to both—” She suddenly halted, her mouth parting in a delicate O. He followed her rapt gaze. An edge of the Faieara palace was now visible above the tree line.
“Is that a castle?” she breathed. “Is that where we’re going?”
“It is. You might be surprised to meet another human there.”
“No. Really?”
He nodded. “A girl named Zoey.”
“How on Earth did she get here?”
They resumed walking as he told the story. How Cale was sent to Earth to rescue the now Faieara Queen, Kyra, from the Kayadon hunting her. How Zoey, a friend of Kyra’s, had been swept up in the danger and hitched a ride to Evlon, where she decided to remain indefinitely.
“Miss Edel said Faieara could do magic, like witches or something. Is that true?”
“They are nothing like witches,” he corrected in a not-so-benevolent tone that seemed to pique her curiosity. “Witches are abhorrent creatures from my planet who use magic through unnatural means. Faieara are born with magic in their blood. It is a part of them and their world. It’s within them. Witches crave power and domination. Faieara are peaceful beings, or…they were. Fate is forcing them to stretch.”
“How so?”
“The Kayadon, the ones who built the ship you were on, invaded their planet and enslaved them for a time. We helped the Faieara to overthrow them, at great cost—” He bowed his head at the weight of that statement. “But they are still here. In hiding.”
Once more her eyes darted around the surrounding forest, and he wished he had excluded that last part.
“You’ve no need to worry.” He pointed to the sky. “You see how the sky looks warped?”
She nodded. “Look like we’re in a fishbowl, but it’s almost electrified.”
“We’re in a dome that sizzles with magic. It protects what lies underneath from the Kayadon. None can pass through.”
“The Faieara did that?”
“No. It was a Serakian witchling. Uh… a different kind from my homeworld. They too are allied with the Faieara and their magic comes naturally to them.”
“Serakian.” She tested out the name. “How are your witches different? How do they use magic unnaturally?” She suddenly grew excited and faced him with a bouncing sideways walk. “Could I do magic?”
He tripped to a halt, a shiver of disquiet crawling up his back.
She shrank under his gaze. “Is that a rude question?”
Proceeding down the path again, he grated, “The witches on my home world take power from nature, from creatures, and even from us.”
There was a beat of silence. “Did I offend you?”
“No.”
“You look mad. And you’re walking faster now.”
“I’m no’ mad.”
“I’m only curious. Everyone wishes they could do magic. What do you mean they take power from you? How can they do that?”
Once more he stopped walking and glowered down at her. “They kill us for it.”
Her eyes went wide, and he hoped he’d silenced her on this subject. For a moment, he had, but after walking only a few minutes more, she asked, “Has a witch ever tried to kill you?”
He sighed. “No. My clan is strong, and we have driven the witches away from our land.” For now.
“How did you do that?”
“With tooth and nail and a lot of fire power.”
“Oh, right. The dragon thing. Can I see you turn into a dragon?”
“No.”
“Why not? Would you eat me?”
“Depends. Are you tasty?”
He’d meant it to be menacing, but she only giggled, a light, pleasing sound that cooled his ire almost entirely. “What do dragons eat, anyway?”
She
was a curious thing, wasn’t she? He supposed he couldn’t blame her, and he was enjoying a lighthearted repartee that had nothing to do with politics, arranged marriage, or the duties of his crown. So that was how he found himself teasing, “Aside from attractive female humans?”
Her smile widened. “Hey, just try it. I eat a lot of spicy food. I might not have magic in me, but I’ll still curse you with indigestion for weeks.”
“Months, I bet.”
Her outright laughter sent a zing of pleasure through him. “You are full of questions. I should be the one interrogating you.”
She clasped her hands behind her back. “What do you want to know?”
“How did you end up on that ship?”
“I was hiking and I found the craft in the woods.”
“So, no’ all forests terrify you?”
“I had my knife with me—” She gasped and patted herself down. “Oh no. Where is it?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small tool she’d dropped earlier. “This?”
She sighed with relief and then reached out for it, but he snatched it back and returned it to his pocket. “You expect me to give you a weapon? Even one as ineffectual as this?”
Her eyes flashed with indignation. “It’s mine.”
Ignoring that, he moved on and waited for her to catch up. “Did you really expect to protect yourself with this paltry thing?”
“It wasn’t really for protection.”
“Yet, with only this as your defense, you went hiking where animals could rip out your throat?”
“I wasn’t in an area with those kinds of predators. The worst I had to worry about were squirrels and deer. Can I please just have it?”
“You’ll have it back when we return you to Earth.”
“But like you said, it’s an ineffectual weapon. It’s not like I can hurt you with it.”
He laughed. “I am no’ worried for myself.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“Poor little creatures like that.” He pointed to a small Knoth, watching them from a low branch, nearly camouflaged by the bark that matched its rough brown skin and twig-like limbs. Their big black eyes were the easiest way to spot them.
June squinted in the direction he indicated and then screeched like a wildling. The sound disturbed a cluster of the tiny creatures that had been tentatively following behind them. When she noticed them gathered at her feet, her screech turned supersonic and she made the only logical escape: by climbing up Tristan’s body. Her arms hooked his neck, her legs clamped his waist. Her skirt tumbled down behind her, the slit nearly riding too high for modesty.
Without thinking, he supported her by cupping her backside…gripping warm flesh. Her body jerked at his touch and they faced each other in tense silence.
Then her eyes flashed dangerously. “Get your hands off my ass.”
“Get your legs off my waist,” he countered roughly.
Her gaze flicked at the cluster of Knoths, cocking their heads cautiously from behind thick leaves. “Do they bite?” she asked.
“Yes,” he shamelessly lied, enjoying her position too much. He hiked her higher up and could swear he felt the fabric of her panties through his trousers. His cock perked up. “Perhaps you are safer where you are.”
Her gaze narrowed, yet the faint scent of her intoxicating arousal filled his nostrils. When she spoke, her words came breathier than before. “I don’t believe you. I bet they’re as harmless as bunnies.”
“Then should I set you down? The ruckus you’ve made have attracted more of them. I believe they can smell fear.”
Her grip on him tightened, her entire body pressing harder into his. Mercy. “Tristan, please.”
He nearly groaned at the sound his name pouring off her tongue. He let an impish grin slip and she zeroed in on his lips.
Ire lit behind her eyes, making them all but sparkle with irritation. “You are all the same.”
“Who? Dragons?”
“Men. You do all your thinking sub-level.”
Then her devious lips curled at the edges and her fiery gaze captured his…as she reached down and slipped her hand into his pocket. He swallowed hard, her nimble fingers close…so close. “A little lower, sweetheart.”
Her unsteady breaths fanned his face, drawing him closer to those lush lips of hers.
He knew he should stop this. Even as he debated which tree to push her up against.
5
Brandishing a triumphant grin, June retracted her Swiss army knife from Tristan’s pocket and then tapped the butt of it on his nose. “Mine.”
Anger replaced the dim lust that had been building in his gaze, and for a moment, June registered the foolishness of her actions. She’d put herself in a compromising position with a stranger—let’s face it, alien—who was clearly stronger than her…and they were alone.
Yet his gaze was narrowed on her property and she knew getting it back was his top priority.
He removed one hand from her ass to confiscate the knife, forcing her to clamp her legs tighter around him to keep from falling while she threw her arm behind her and out of his reach.
For a moment, they grappled in their ridiculous position; him grabbing for the knife, her squirming away. All the while, he never let her go. Their combined motion forced her to slip up and down his body in a way that caused friction in places where friction shouldn’t be. Warmth cascaded over her. She shuddered. He paused for a moment and gazed down at her.
“You should put me down.” That wasn’t her voice that had breezed through her lips. That was the voice of a sex kitten.
He seemed to shake himself and then continued reaching for her knife, though his grip on her ass cheek seemed to repeatedly tighten and loosen. The sensation was maddening. He grunted, or maybe it was a groan, when he nearly seized her property and she shimmied higher on his body to raise the knife out of reach, but he was too strong and pulled her arm down by the elbow. With his other hand preoccupied, he had to release her elbow in order to go after her prize and her fist shot straight up again.
“Woman, for the love of the gods!”
“Knock it off.”
“Give it to me!”
“No!”
Frustrated, he stomped toward a patch of grass and unceremoniously deposited her there. In the next instant, his body came over hers to pin her down, his gaze still lasered in on the folded knife in her hand.
“What are you…get off me!”
“Give me the knife and I will.”
She stretched her arm away from him again, as far as she could. As he reached out for her hand once more, she kneed him in the side of the gut. He grunted, losing his breath. His weight let up slightly and she took the advantage. Pushing against him as hard as she could, she managed to shove him to his back, but he hooked her waist and she rolled on top of him before they both settled, breathing hard.
He folded one arm behind his head. Thinking he was once more going after her knife, she quickly shoved it into her bra.
“You think I will no’ venture there?” His tone had lost all of its edge.
“You do and I’ll scream.”
“You’ve already done plenty of that. Who do you expect will hear you out here?”
She didn’t respond, just glared at him. He had the strangest grin on his face, the picture of ease with his arm tucked back, the other on her hip as she…straddled him.
“We’re either here too early or too late,” said Orik from behind her. June twisted around to see him, Edel, and Belinda walking up the path.
“Tristan Okora!” Edel scolded. “Get off her this instant.”
“Technically, she’s on me, Mother.”
“Oh my God!” June tried to scramble to her feet, but part of her dress was caught under his big body. She tugged and tugged, her cheeks flaming red. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Looks like Tristan is actually enjoying himself for a change.” Orik offered his hand to Tris
tan, helping him up and freeing June’s skirt in the process. She shot to her feet.
Edel rushed forward to brush off her dress and June was suddenly horrified to think she might have damaged it. As Edel shifted to pick debris out of her hair, she frantically examined the garment. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I expect such behavior from children, no’ from a King,” Edel scolded her son, but June felt it all the same. Her cheeks blazed hotter.
Tristan scrubbed a hand along the back of his neck, looking more amused than admonished. Orik appeared as if he was about to burst out laughing while Belinda brandished a deep unapproving frown.
“I’m sorry,” June repeated. “It was my fault. A bunch of critters scared me—”
“Knoths,” Tristan inserted. Orik hid a chuckle.
“—and I jumped on Tristan and we fell and my dress got tangled.” At least that was part of the truth.
“Oh, dearling.” Edel’s tone was sweet and sympathetic. “You don’t need to be afraid of Knoths. They are entirely harmless.”
If June could shoot fire from her gaze, Tristan would be toast. Instead of burning under her glare, he countered with a devilish grin.
“Come now.” Edel patted her shoulder. “Let’s be on our way. We don’t want to be late for our own tribute.”
The castle was simply stunning. Like something straight out of a fairytale. Or a Faieara-tale, June joked to herself. The Faieara weren’t exactly out of a storybook, and they certainly weren’t tiny bug-like creatures with wings, but they were beautiful beyond words with pointed ears, glorious hair, lithe bodies, and a natural grace that coursed through their every movement. June found it difficult to take her eyes off them. Envious is me.
Several guards greeted them at the palace entrance, bowing deeply and then leading them to a large room with grand stilted-arch windows and a high vaulted ceiling. Many Faieara gathered in the room. Their chatter stopped as they entered. As if cued by an invisible force, bodies parted, creating a path to a dais where a royal couple sat up on a set of matching thrones.
The queen, a petite and stunningly attractive woman, sat perfectly upright, her back straight and chin proud, while the man, quite handsome, slouched to one side, his body propped up by his elbow, giving off a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe. Something about him piqued a primitive alarm in the back of June’s brain; it screamed Other, warning her to keep her distance.
