Weaving Fate

by Octavia Kore

  “Leave!”

  The younger male didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed to the entrance and disappeared through the membrane like something was hot on his tail. If he hadn’t moved fast enough, and if his guardian hadn’t objected to leaving the female, Zaheer might have chased after him to drive the point home. Do not touch the Alpha’s tsa. Do not look at the Alpha’s tsa.

  Guilt pulsed through him as the initial anger began to fade away. He’d gone after a member of his own pack. You could have hurt him! We do not attack the pack! Zaheer’s voice thundered inside of his mind.

  We do when they attempt to scent our tsa! She belongs to us!

  Zaheer snarled. Maylu is pack!

  Maylu will be dead if we ever catch him near her again. There was a deadly seriousness in his guardian’s tone that he’d never heard directed toward anyone they knew before, and it made his blood run cold.

  Before Zaheer could respond, a warm, trembling hand pressed against the underside of his guardian’s body, distracting them both as it trailed along his belly. His guardian pulled back so that they were staring down into the female’s face. Her eyes were wide and her breathing heavy, but she seemed unharmed by the entire debacle.

  We will make sure, his guardian grumbled before pressing his muzzle into the crook of her neck, drawing her scent into his powerful nose. Maylu’s scent clung to a spot on the underside of her jaw. The beast dropped down on his forearms, rubbing the side of his face along her skin until he was satisfied with the results.

  “Okay, don’t panic, Clara. So the spider alien turns into a big ass dog, no problem. Totally normal.” Her voice soothed his guardian and practically had him purring in delight as his tongue snaked out to lave the column of her throat, clearing away any trace of the other male. A giggle fell from her lips and she pushed at the guardian’s head. “That tickles! Enough! Seriously!” The female studied his face when his guardian pulled back, and Zaheer felt his chest puff with pride underneath her gaze. “Your day just keeps getting stranger and stranger, Clara.”

  Clara. Was this her name? Zaheer wanted to ask her, wanted to break the rule he’d put in place and ask if this is what her people called her. It didn’t matter though, to his guardian she was tsa, and despite all of the feelings and emotions running through him at the moment, she was Aanih to him.

  When he was finally able to push himself to the forefront, Zaheer began to transition, stepping back as his guardian gave way to his Krunkeeli form. The alien—Clara—gazed up at him from her spot on the floor, her lips parted as she watched Zaheer crouch down in front of her.

  “Aanih,” he murmured, crawling forward until her legs were trapped beneath him. A crease formed between her eyebrows as she watched his lips move. “I cannot rid my mind of you, Aanih.” His entire body ached with the need to scent her, to reaffirm the bond that the cleansing had muddled, but he didn’t want to frighten her any more than they already had. Zaheer pointed at his nose before gesturing toward her neck. When she tilted her head and frowned, he reversed, pointing at her nose before gesturing to his neck.

  His shoulders sagged in defeat at the look of confusion on her strange face. With slow, steady movements, Zaheer crept up her body, his eyes trained on her face. He was fascinated by the way her skin changed color, going from pale, to pink, and then to red.

  When he reached her neck, Zaheer gave into his guardian’s demands and nuzzled his face into her skin, moaning softly as he inhaled their combined scents. Zaheer could hear the frantic beating of her heart, and when he flattened his tongue against the column of her neck, he could feel her blood coursing through her body.

  Clara’s fingers combed through his fur, and just like the last time they’d done this, the female surprised him and turned her face toward him, mimicking his actions without prompt. Every pass of her nose along the underside of his jaw stoked the fires within his belly until he felt as if the flames would consume him from the inside out. Her breath disturbed the fur on his chest as he shifted over her, and a growl clawed its way up his throat as she parted her legs, allowing him to move between them.

  He’d thought her scent was potent the first time, but he wasn’t at all prepared for the heady mixture that reached his nose as she moved against him. This was both different and familiar, still his female, but so much more. It called to him, permeating the space between them and seeping into his mind where his guardian luxuriated in it. This wasn’t something she put off all the time, and the fact that she was doing so now excited him more than anything ever had.

  He slid one of his upper hands into her hair and curled his fingers into a fist before dragging her head back so that her neck was completely exposed to his mouth. His teeth nipped at her flesh, and when she whimpered, he soothed the area with his tongue, closing his eyes and taking in her soft moan.

  “Aanih, you are mine. I don’t know how to let you go. I’m not sure I can.”

  He’d spoken the words directly to her, breaking his own rule, but if she’d heard him, the female gave no indication. Instead, she lifted her hips, brushing them against his pelvis where his khetis throbbed painfully within their sheath. When he lowered himself, pressing her into the floor, the female made a strangled sound. Zaheer might have mistaken it for a noise of distress, but the glassy look in her eyes and the way she moved beneath him, arching against his body, told Zaheer she was anything but distressed. His nostrils flared as he took her in.

  Zaheer’s khetis extruded suddenly, sliding over the shimmering material that covered Clara’s body, ripping a pained groan from his throat as he dropped his head to her chest. His hips bucked of their own accord, and when he looked up into her face, it was to see her watching his khetis glide against her belly.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered out loud.

  The word didn’t exactly translate for him, but he liked the sound of it. Oh, fuck, indeed.

  Blunt nails dug into his arms where her hands gripped him. “Please,” she panted, her lips parting. “Oh, God, please.”

  He realized she was faster than he’d given her credit for when her hands shot up to grip the sides of his face, pulling his head down until their lips were pressed together in a form of intimacy unknown to him. The muscles in his lower arms trembled, struggling to support him, when she ran the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips. It was clear she wanted him to react, but this was all new to him. What was he supposed to do? A few awkward moments were the price he paid to study her, but when he mimicked the pressure and movement of her lips against his, Clara’s excited groan was his reward.

  “My Aanih,” he whispered against her mouth as he rocked his hips. Was she worth the total destruction of the only life he knew? Was this alien female worth breaking his vows? Before he could ponder the answer, Clara arched into him and his mind went blissfully blank. The juncture between her legs moved against the underside of his secondary kheti, drawing a sigh from them both.

  The only thing he wanted to think about was Clara. Zaheer nipped at her lower lip, adjusting his grip on her hair so he could hold her still as his tongue explored the depths of her mouth. His free hand slipped beneath her lower back, drawing her close, cradling her against him. They moved together, their breaths mingling as their tongues danced. His khetis throbbed for something more, something he’d never experienced before. Aching need swept through him.

  Touch her, his guardian commanded.

  As if he had no will of his own, Zaheer did as he was told, letting his hands roam up her sides, his eyes never leaving her face as he pulled back to watch her. He wanted to know what pleased her, what drew the sighs and moans from her lips. He wanted to watch the pink in her cheeks darken.

  Taste her.

  Surely that wouldn’t break his vows. When his fingertips brushed over the mounds on her chest, Clara sucked in a breath, her back bowing as her eyes pinched shut. His curiosity piqued, Zaheer covered the entire mound with his hand, testing its softness and weight and marveling over the fact that it fit so p
erfectly in his palm. Even with the black material between them, her flesh yielded to his touch. He kneaded gently, his excitement growing as he learned her.

  “Please. Yes, please.” She spoke along the bond as she trapped her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh, fuck… s-suit down.” He heard her stammer a moment before the material covering her began to recede, revealing the creamy, speckled expanse of her body to his hungry gaze.

  Clara’s fingers clutching at his shoulders was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her skin was smooth and, aside from the very fine hairs he could see on her forearms, completely hairless. The mounds on her chest were a few shades lighter than the flesh on her face and neck, and both were crowned with a delicate pink bud that seemed to pucker and bead beneath his gaze.

  Unable to resist, Zaheer cupped a mound, brushing the pad of his thumb over the bud. It tightened further, and her hips jerked up. A sensitive part of her body, he noted. When he tried to move farther down her body, Clara whimpered, and Zaheer felt her hands slide up to the back of his head, tugging him down until his lips brushed the straining peak he had neglected. Zaheer trailed the tip of his tongue over her flesh, pleased when she whimpered and writhed.

  “More. More… oh, God, more,” she demanded.

  Wet heat brushed against Zaheer’s kheti as Clara shifted beneath him, her hips rising off the floor to meet him. He glanced down her body, catching sight of the fur between her legs. A smile tugged at his lips as he closed them over the bud, sucking it into his mouth. She wasn’t hairless everywhere.

  Clara cried out, her nails scraping against his scalp as she pressed him closer. Propping himself up with his upper arms, Zaheer cradled her backside, trapping his khetis between them as they jerked. Zaheer might not have personal experience with the finer points, but he wasn’t completely lost when it came to the actual act of mating.

  Priests and guardians were the only ones prohibited from partaking in such pleasures, and since the act of mating was something they would never experience, it was seen as unnecessary and even cruel to educate them on the subject. That didn’t stop them from learning. The forest was filled with animals who didn’t care about being caught in the act, and even the Krunkeeli he’d spotted on the outskirts of the tribe weren’t exactly shy about mating in places where they might be seen.

  He wanted to investigate the heat between her legs, but when she tilted her hips and the flared head of his secondary kheti slid through her damp fur, Zaheer’s lungs seized and seed began to trickle from the tip. Her body rendered him senseless. The row of blunted, flexible spines on the underside of his khetis slid through the wet heat and Zaheer watched in fascination as Clara bucked so hard she nearly displaced him.

  Reaching back, Zaheer untangled her fingers from his hair, his lips brushing over the tips before placing both hands on her chest. When his tails came up to wrap around her wrists, holding them in place, Clara met his eyes and frowned.

  “What are you doing?”

  He focused on Clara’s face as he moved down her body, stopping to press his lips to different areas, gauging her reaction. Her fingers flexed, and he knew she wanted to be freed, wanted to put her hands on him, but her touch was too much. Zaheer couldn’t think when her hands were on him, and if he wanted to avoid completely shattering his vows, he needed her hands as far away from his body as he could get them.

  His upper hands cupped the backs of her thighs, gently kneading the muscles there as he coaxed her legs apart, spreading them wide before him. He took every part of her in, committing each curve and dip to memory, and when his gaze fell on the damp tuft of fur that covered the juncture of her legs, Zaheer leaned forward and inhaled. Curiosity compelled him to reach out and brush his fingers through the curls. She was so wet here, and from the little bit he’d overheard over his lifetime, this slick was caused by her arousal. Clara liked what he was doing. The thought made him grin as she moaned, pressing herself into his hand.

  Dark lashes fanned her cheeks as she stared down at him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as he pressed one finger into her heat, absorbing the sound of her gasp as his digit slowly sank deeper between the folds that his khetis had rubbed against moments ago.

  Taste her. Devour her.

  He wanted to, but doubt closed in on him. Guardians did not concern themselves with this. Would he be able to bring her the pleasure she sought? If the noises she made were any indication, then surely he was on the right path. Using the thumbs on his lower hands, Zaheer parted Clara’s folds and dipped his head, using the tip of his ridged tongue to caress and taste his female.

  Clara’s hips jerked, and she slammed her eyes shut. “God, yes.”

  Her taste burst over his tongue, and for the first time in a long time, Zaheer’s guardian was completely silent. With a low growl, Zaheer pressed his lips to her sex, licking and nipping. He wanted her noises and was determined to wring every last one of them from her lips before he was finished. She especially liked when he paid attention to the tiny nub at the apex of her folds so he pressed the flat of his tongue to it and watched her thrash.

  With each swipe of his tongue over her flesh Clara came to life. Her body writhed as she panted, gasping and moaning as she fought to free herself from the grasp of his tails. He lost himself in the musky, tangy taste. It was unlike anything he’d had before. This flavor was completely unique to his alien female and he savored it.

  Guiding her legs over his shoulders, Zaheer shifted so his lower hands could wrap around his khetis. They pulsed in his palms, desperate and needy. Seed dripped from his primary kheti onto the floor beneath him and Zaheer growled as his hips jerked forward involuntarily. His entire body stiffened as the pleasure raced like lightning up his spine, but Zaheer pinched his eyes closed and refocused on the female in front of him.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d denied himself, and he doubted it would be the last, especially now that he had this experience stored in his mind. Zaheer knew some of his pack members gave into their urges and pleasured themselves, but he didn’t fault them for it. It had once shamed him to admit that he’d given into his body’s urges more than once, but he refused to let that bother him now. Becoming a guardian didn’t mean they lost the ability to feel those desires. Like all Krunkeeli, their bodies sought pleasure and release, but as guardians they were expected to rise above such base needs.

  And why is that? his guardian questioned. Why are we not permitted to give and take pleasure?

  It distracts us, Zaheer told him, squeezing his khetis to keep himself from spilling.

  His guardian smiled. I like this distraction.

  Gods help him, but so did Zaheer. “Aanih,” he whispered against her heated flesh. “My Aanih.” The small room filled with her sweet, melodic cries of pleasure. They echoed within his mind, urging him on. In all of his rotations, Zaheer had never heard anything as beautiful as Clara’s strangled moans.

  When her screams grew hoarse and her legs began to tremble, Zaheer latched onto the tiny nub and suckled, scraping his teeth over it. A wave of triumph washed over him when her entire body went taut, bowing up as her heels dug into his back. Liquid heat covered his chin and Zaheer moved down to lap at the entrance of her convulsing sex, drinking greedily from her.

  Clara whimpered as his tongue slid through her folds, pressing her thighs against his head and trying to push him back. He didn’t want to move, but when her legs fell from his shoulders, Zaheer looked up the length of her body, taking in the flush that covered the skin on her chest, neck, and face.

  Beautiful, his guardian purred. Our tsa is beautiful.

  Zaheer ignored the beast and crept up her body, peppering her skin with the soft brush of his lips. He grasped her waist with his upper hands as he fitted his hips to hers, groaning as he pressed his khetis against her wet curls. Clara struggled against his tails and this time he released her, gritting his teeth as her newly freed hands roamed over him.

  Remember your vows. Remember your vows!

  “I
can’t, Aanih. I swore I would never…” Zaheer’s throat went dry as her slender fingers curled around his primary kheti. He rocked his hips forward, pumping himself into the tight warmth of her fist as a raspy growl fell from his lips.

  Clara guided his length down until the head of his primary kheti was poised at her entrance. Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the words that tumbled from her lips. He couldn’t allow this to continue. There would be no going back, and although his guardian was more than ready to commit to his destruction, Zaheer wasn’t ready to throw it all away. Not yet.

  There was no point in denying his desire to know what it would feel like to sink into her, to feel her heat engulfing his khetis, but he didn’t have all the answers yet and without those, he couldn’t risk losing his pack. Zaheer pressed her hips into the floor with his upper hands as he pried her fingers from his kheti with his lower set.

  “Please, Aanih,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers like she’d shown him. “Don’t tempt me any further.” One of her hands snaked up to cup his jaw, and he turned to nuzzle into her palm.

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  Zaheer’s head swung toward the voice, and when his eyes met Ivnalth’s furious gaze, he felt the blood drain from his face. Before he could stop it, his guardian lurched forward, forcing his transition. He snapped and snarled, crouching over Clara’s naked body, shielding her from his cousin. There was a gasp from beneath him, and he felt his female press herself against his belly.

  “I knew you lied to me when I asked why you smelled like the female, but I never could have imagined this.” The disgust in her voice made his guardian bristle. “You would risk your position as Alpha, risk your life—all our lives—for this alien? Does the pack mean so little to you?”

  “I am your Alpha!”

  “Then act like it!”

  The words sliced through his anger, leaving only shame, and his guardian froze above Clara. He didn’t miss the tears in his cousin’s eyes before she spun around and disappeared through the membrane. She was right; he’d put them all at risk. If the Alpha was weak, then so was the pack. If Pumo found out about the females, Zaheer wouldn’t be the only one punished. The High Priest could do more than just take his pack away, he could deem them all unfit and kill every single one of them.