by Carven, Anna
And yet there had still been a hint of defiance in her eyes.
His anger bubbled to the surface. His protective instincts went into overdrive. Her clan was now his clan, and he make sure that he put the fear of the Death God himself—or better yet, the sharp end of his blade—into anyone that dared threaten them.
Across the comm, Zarken bristled. “Fools. They still do not understand their place in the Universe. We have been too restrained.”
“There were good reasons for our approach, Zarken,” Ikriss said cooly, knowing very well that Zarken was itching to subjugate the humans in typical Kordolian style. They could so easily have this cursed planet’s entire population existing in total fear; meek and perfectly compliant, but their reasons for not doing that were… complicated.
Still, things were getting out of hand. He’d already discussed this with Tarak.
Something had to be done.
Something would be done.
They could only allow chaos and dissent to fester for so long.
“Where is she being held?” His fingers snaked up the inside of Sienna’s arm, gently caressing her soft, delicate skin.
Like a dream, she snuggled up against him, all sweetness and light; the perfect counterpoint to his sudden thirst for violence.
Like an old, familiar suit of armor, his control slipped back into place. His thinking was clear again. The Mating Fever had subsided, but it wasn’t completely gone. Beneath all those layers of control and experience and training, there was a tendril of insanity, threatening to consume him if anyone or anything dared harm his mate.
Did all the mated Kordolians have to deal with this madness? He would have to ask Tarak.
“Sir.” Zarken’s matter-of-fact voice snapped him out of his sweet-dark thoughts. “Kainan’s contact is seeking that information as we speak. I will inform you as soon as we know.”
“Yes.” He ran his fingers through Sienna’s lustrous hair, entranced at how it caught the light and reflected different shades of gold and yellow and silver. Her exquisiteness was beyond compare. “In that case, we will immediately be making a trip to Earth.” He deliberately switched to Universal, for Sienna’s benefit. “I trust our newly claimed territory has returned to acceptable quietude,” he said dryly, allowing himself a hint of a smile as curiosity—and a trace of alarm—flickered in Sienna’s eyes.
I told you, I have a surprise for you.
“We have controlled the area,” Zarken replied. “A few nasty surprises on the way, but now the humans understand. The borders are clearly marked. Except for this Syndicate. Tch. They are like a many-headed turigen. Slippery as fuck. You cut off one head and another appears. There are still a few loose tails to sever.”
“That is about to change,” Ikriss said quietly, an idea forming in his mind. He would have to run it by the General, of course, but he was already certain Tarak would approve of his plan. “Is that all you have to report, Zarken?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ikriss,” he corrected. “Do not stop until you have found the human. If an opportunity for safe retrieval presents itself, then you have my consent to go ahead. I trust your judgement.”
“Thank you, Sir. Er, I mean, Ikriss.”
“Better,” Ikriss said approvingly. “And make sure the area is prepared for our arrival. I want my mate’s premises to be restored to the condition in which you found them. That goes for her people, as well.”
“Her people? Tch. They are difficult to deal with,” Zarken growled. “They do not trust us.”
“And why should they? Do you forget who you are? Sort it out, Zarken. You don’t have to appease them, just make them understand that we are not like our old masters.”
“Hmph. For such a weak and technologically backward species, they are foolishly stubborn.”
“But are we not the most stubborn of the lot, Zar? And remember, looks can be deceiving. They are not as weak as you might think.”
“Hm.” Zarken let out a skeptical grunt. “With all due respect, it looks like your judgement’s been clouded by the Mating Fever.” The warrior’s tone told Ikriss his words were very much tongue-in-cheek.
That surprised him a little.
In the Imperial times, his men would never have dared talk back to him, even in jest.
“My judgement is as sound as it ever was,” Ikriss said cooly. “And if you want that off-world five-rotation break I have rostered you for, then you will get a move on and bring these humans into the fold.”
Zarken let out a soft snort. “A five-rotation break? From you? Ha. I’ll only believe it when I’m actually standing on the nearest ice-planet with a krizen in my hand. Since when have you been anything but a complete and utter bastard of a taskmaster?”
“Since it was no longer necessary,” Ikriss said simply. “See you planetside, Zarken.”
“Looking forward to it, Ikriss. Later, boss.”
Ikriss deactivated the comm and turned his full attention toward Sienna. All it took was one wicked appraising look, her eyes traveling slowly and deliberately down his naked form, and he had an erection again.
She pressed the tip of her finger against his chest and dragged it slowly downwards in a sensual gesture.
Her eyes held a strange mixture of confidence and vulnerability—mixed with a hint of slyness. How was it possible? Impossible creature. Perfectly pink and glistening with moisture, her lower lip quivered ever so slightly. “Are you taking me home, Commander?”
He inhaled her sweet scent all over again. Truly, he would never tire of this—of her. “Indeed,” he murmured. He stole a kiss, capturing her bottom lip with his. “But right now, there are more urgent matters to attend to.” He hooked his leg over hers and pulled her closer, allowing his cock to press against the soft skin of her lower belly.
“Whoa,” she breathed, curling her fingers around his hard length, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. “Are you for real? Already? You’re insatiable.”
“Is that a problem, Sienna?”
“N-no. Of course not.” Her eyes were wide. Her cheeks were suffused with heat. “Knowing you, I shouldn’t even be surprised. You Kordolians are something else.” A low rumble of approval escaped her as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled over, letting her lie on top of him. “Again, Commander?”
His body thrumming with arousal, he raised an eyebrow, secretly pleased by her astonishment. “I have waited longer than I should have to claim you, my amina. Therefore, I am going to enjoy you as much and as long as I desire. Any objections, human?” He gave her his best mock-stern look.
“None whatsoever, Sir.” Her laughter washed over him, filling him with a lightness he’d never experienced before.
Sienna leaned forward and pressed her palms against his chest, pushing him backward. Her hair spilled over him, a luxurious golden curtain that tickled his bare torso. The vulnerability he’d seen in her earlier was gone, replaced with mesmerizing confidence.
His hardness became almost unbearable as he treated himself to the glorious sight of her naked form.
Sweet Goddess, she was so utterly sexy.
She leaned in and kissed him, her lips hot and demanding as she took the lead. Her hands crept up to his horns, and she began to stroke him.
Ikriss growled.
She shifted, making a small, devious twist of her hips.
He groaned.
Suddenly, he was inside her again, and this time, it was all her doing.
Kaiin’s Hells. This female will ruin me.
Her lips curved into a wicked little smile. She slid the tips of her fingers over his throbbing horns and gently fucked him, sending him into a higher plane of existence.
“Third time lucky,” she whispered.
He seized her hips, running his hands over luscious curves.
She rode him harder.
He closed his eyes and let her take him higher.
Again.
And again.
He would do it all over again
just to be with her.
Even if it meant stepping into death’s cold shadow.
But those dark thoughts were obliterated in an instant as she leaned in to kiss him, and all he could do was kiss her back, tasting sweetness and light and everything that he wasn’t supposed to have…
But he would take it all, because she was his and only his.
Chapter Twenty-Three
She didn’t know whether it was morning or night or the middle of the day in Earth time—New York time; her time—and she couldn’t care less, because here in Ikriss’s dimly lit quarters, where everything was curved and cocoon-like and intimate and quiet, she had no connection to that world, and part of her liked the feeling of total freedom that came with being up in space.
And of course, her badass long-haired, obsidian-horned, totally cut-and-ripped, and scarily hyper-focused Kordolian warrior was enough distraction for about a hundred lifetimes.
But she couldn’t just sever her deep ties with the place she came from, and for the most part, she was itching to get back to Earth; to her people and her business—to everything that was warm and familiar and nice—and she hoped to hell that the latter hadn’t sustained too much damage in the aftermath of that crazy assassin’s attack.
As she dried herself off and reached for the clothes that had mysteriously appeared in Ikriss’s quarters—nude-colored undies and a bra, a stretchy long-sleeved tee, and a pair of flowing pants that reminded her of something a martial artist might wear, all in stylish black, of course—a resigned sigh reached her ears.
“Ikriss?” she forgot about the clothes and sought him out, following the sound of his voice.
She found him in the small dark antechamber that led to the entrance of his quarters. At first, she could barely make him out in the shadows.
But then her eyes adjusted, and she saw his outline.
One arm was up, his powerful biceps flexed. Something flashed in the darkness.
A blade.
A few days ago, the sight would have terrified her, but now she just felt calm.
Ikriss would never hurt her.
“I am sorry, Sienna, but this is necessary.”
“What are you doing, Ikriss? Come here into the light, where I can see you.”
Her mesmerizing Kordolian inclined his head and stepped into a small patch of blue light. He wore nothing but a pair of simple loose trousers that were a midnight shade of blue.
Everything the silver aliens wore was either dark blue or black, and it suited them perfectly well.
His long white hair was pulled into a long tail atop his head, a style that accentuated his sharp, elegant features. In his right hand was a medium-sized blade made of pure black metal.
He seemed strangely subdued.
The sight of the blade sent a chill through her. “Wh-what’s that for?”
His gaze held a strange disquiet; a darkness she couldn’t ever hope to untangle. But that look was only fleeting, and it was quickly replaced with a warrior’s cold resolve. “These horns… in another life I would have kept them, but to wear them now would be an arrogant indulgence.”
Sienna froze and blinked twice, not quite comprehending the words that were coming out of Ikriss’s mouth. “Y-you what?”
Ikriss dipped his head, breaking eye contact. “My kind do not usually wear horns. I have enjoyed your touch upon them immensely, but these appendages serve no use other than to enhance my own pleasure, and they are most certainly not compatible with battle armor.”
Sienna glanced leerily at the obsidian blade. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to do anything insane, like cut off those beautiful black horns of yours.”
“Believe me, I would much prefer to keep them, but you must remember that I am a warrior.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Some strange twist of fate has allowed me to evade death yet again, and I am not going to waste this chance by being complacent. My duty is to protect you at all costs. If that means severing the horns once again, then so be it. There are plenty of other ways for me to experience pleasure.” At last, he looked up, his golden eyes burning right through her. “Even just looking at you is pleasure.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and gave him a wry look. “Uh, the last time you protected me? I wouldn’t exactly call that complacent. How were you supposed to predict that they’d send an invisible assassin after me?”
The line of Ikriss’s broad shoulders was as stiff as granite. “I failed to recognize the threat. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
She suppressed a shudder. “I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”
“There won’t,” he said with chilling certainty. “So now you understand. There are some things that cannot be avoided.”
Unease pricked Sienna’s chest. What was wrong with him? “You wanted me to see this, didn’t you?” She shook her head in frustration. It felt like he understood the terrible significance of what he was about to do, and yet he didn’t want to sugarcoat things for her. “Like skulking around and disposing of your horns behind my back wouldn’t have been acceptable to you, would it?”
He nodded, his expression softening. “I will never hide these things from you, Sienna. As you very well know, the Universe beyond these walls is a harsh and unforgiving place. Sometimes, we become a reflection of the void we encounter. But I will never let that poison touch this—what I have with you.”
Funny, she vaguely remembered some quote from Earth that seemed similar to his words.
“I will get this done now, Sienna. The sooner I can be battle-ready, the sooner we can return to Earth.” His tone became gentle, in direct contrast with the menacing black blade in his hand. “Do not look so worried, my amina. We have been doing this for hundreds of revolutions, and I have shorn my horns twice before. It is harmless, and the skin grows quickly over the wound.”
She stared at Ikriss in horror and fascination, struggling to comprehend his words. A protest rose to her lips, but she swallowed it. She realized then and there that she loved him—with or without the horns, although she would dearly like for him to keep them, because she liked him in his natural state; she liked knowing that she could so easily enhance his pleasure—but if they were going to hinder him in combat, then who the hell was she to demand that he keep them?
That would be pointlessly indulgent, right?
Still, something about this felt so wrong.
Suddenly, Ikriss’s hand and the blade became a black-and-silver blur. Before Sienna realized what was happening, the edge of the blade was at the base of his left horn. His gaze turned terrifyingly cold.
Before Sienna realized what she was doing, she was moving toward him, and suddenly her hand was around his wrist, and she was trying to pull his hand away.
Of course, he didn’t budge. Ikriss was impossibly strong. It felt like his arm was made of steel.
“Wait,” she whispered, her heart hammering like crazy. “Just hold on a minute.”
Ikriss’s free hand closed around her wrist, his touch searing, his grasp oh-so gentle. “I am sorry, Sienna.”
How bittersweet his apology was; how seductive his deep, rumbling voice was.
That hint of sadness in his voice; so tiny she could have almost missed it.
But she was close to him now; she knew him.
How could she resist?
She steeled herself. “This just feels… wrong. I get that there are very good reasons for what you’re about to do, but to be forced to get rid of something…” That’s so unique and beautiful. That makes you feel so damn good…
She stared up at him, suddenly feeling intimidated. She knew she shouldn’t be; it was Ikriss after all, but she couldn’t forget that he was a highly trained Kordolian warrior with hundreds of revolutions of tradition behind him.
She took a deep breath. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe this was the old Empire’s way of denying you your identity… that it was a form of repression?”
He looked down at her,
his golden eyes hard and unblinking, his expression completely unreadable.
Almost dangerous.
And very complicated.
“It did,” he said softly. “It does. All the time. And the irony does not escape me, because we did similar things to the races and civilizations we conquered. But that is the system that shaped me into what I am, and somehow, I am also thankful for it.” He pulled her hand away from his wrist, his grip pure steel wrapped in velvet. “Perhaps there will come a time when we no longer have to fight, but for now, this is the way we do things.”
Sienna relaxed in his grasp, her shoulders slumping. Before she could say a word, Ikriss leaned in and tenderly kissed her on the lips. His free hand went to the side of her face, where he gently caressed her cheek.
It was a slow, burning kind of kiss; full of deep appreciation.
She drowned in him, until he gently broke away.
His hands and arms became a blur. He was still holding the black blade. Sienna had completely forgotten about it.
It spun through the darkness.
Shik, shik.
She could only stare in horror.
What the hell did you just do?
In the space of a heartbeat, he severed both horns. They fell to the floor with a clatter. Rivulets of black blood ran down the sides of his face.
Damnit, Ikriss!
He turned and retrieved something from a dark storage compartment in the back; a slim black tube that he swiftly pressed against his bleeding temples. It appeared to contain some sort of clear-colored viscous liquid, and whatever it was, the stuff was damn effective, because it stopped the bleeding immediately.
“Y-you distracted me,” she gasped, putting her hands on her hips. She glared at him.
Ikriss shook his head, a smile playing across his dark silver lips. “That was not a distraction. It was very much intended.”
With rivulets of dark blood streaking his face and a sharp blade in one hand, how could he manage to look so damn charming?
Sienna glowered. She looked down at the black floor; at Ikriss’s severed horns. They were just a little shorter than her forearm, and elegantly curved.
