Twilight's End

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

  She knew the very moment Khan entered the bath behind her. A chill draft breezed through the room, pebbling her skin despite the warmth of the water rushing over her. Ignoring him, she pulled off the thong she used to bind her hair and began to unravel the braid she’d bound her hair in to keep it out of her way while she worked.

  Despite her determination to ignore him, Dionne jumped when she turned and discovered Khan had followed her into the shower.

  “We should talk,” he said quietly.

  “And the point of that would be…?”

  He curled his fingers around her upper arms quicker than thought, pushing her back against the tiled wall. The cats, who’d apparently followed him, uttered a low, threatening growl--which he ignored--but made no attempt to come any closer than the door since they had an antipathy for water. Apparently they were as certain as Dionne was that, despite the aggression inherent in the move, he didn’t actually intend her any harm or they would’ve ignored their dislike of water and attacked anyway.

  “Send them away,” he growled, his face mere inches from hers now.

  Dionne swallowed with an effort at the effect his close proximity was having on her, instantly at war with herself. There was threat/promise in every tense line of his body that her own body instantly responded to with hopeful excitement. Sending the cats away would be tantamount to capitulation, however, and she was not only not willing to allow him to compromise her position as mission failsafe, but she resented what appeared to be an arrogant assumption that he could ‘fuck the meanness’ out of her. She was not being unreasonable. She didn’t particularly consider that he was either, but the hard fact was that they had two diametrically opposed opinions on this matter and nothing he could do or say was going to change her mind. “Why?” she finally managed to ask, although the word emerged as little more than a squeak.

  His gaze moved over her face caressingly. “I think you know why.”

  “This won’t resolve anything,” she responded a little shakily.

  His gaze moved over her face. “Wrong again,” he muttered, covering her mouth in a kiss that instantly sent a tidal wave of need through her as if a dam had burst. A sound that was part need, part despair escaped her, but she opened her mouth to him, glorying in the dizzying rush that decimated rational thought as his tongue raked across hers with restless possessiveness.

  She’d wanted this, needed it.

  She grasped his waist, pulling him closer, slipping her hands beneath the back waist of his loincloth to cup his buttocks. A shudder went through him. He pushed a knee between her thighs, lifting her up until she could wrap her legs around his hips. When he cupped her buttocks, pulling her sex tightly against his erection, the pleasure was so exquisite she felt faint. Her heart lurched, galloped frantically. Pulling her hands from his breechcloth, she ran her palms over his back feverishly, drinking in the feel of him, his bare chest against her own, his strong back against her palms.

  When he dragged his lips from hers at last, they were both gasping hoarsely with need. Nuzzling her neck, he dipped his head toward her breasts. Dionne hooked her hands over his shoulders, arching up to meet him. “We can’t--can’t have sex. We can pleasure each other, though.”

  He stiffened, lifting his head slowly to look at her.

  Dizzy, disoriented, it took a supreme effort to open her eyes and gaze back at him.

  A frown flitted across his face. Something indecipherable flickered in his eyes and vanished. He eased slightly away from her, allowing her to slide to her feet, forcing the tension from his body with an effort. Finally, he released her and stood away, studying her for several moments as if he’d never seen her before. She shivered when he stepped away from her, turned and strode from the room without another word.

  Frustration and confusion creased her brows as she watched him leave and it occurred to her to wonder if she’d completely misread him. Maybe it hadn’t been his intention, or belief, that he had only to seduce her to bend her to his will? Maybe his anger had merely moved him to passion, broken through the wall he’d erected?

  But why then, if that were true, had he acted like she’d slapped him when she’d offered to pleasure him?

  The look he’d given her disturbed her far more than she liked, as if she’d betrayed him somehow, as if he’d seen something in her that he hadn’t seen before--and he hadn’t liked it.

  Maybe he had, but that wasn’t her problem.

  Fighting the urge to weep, or scream obscenities, Dionne plunged beneath the pounding water, hoping it would soothe the ache that was still pounding inside of her, knowing it wouldn’t.

  She had never made any attempt to represent herself falsely only to appeal to him. She had been completely open and honest with him from the first, whether he’d understood her or not. She was attracted to him, had been almost from the very beginning, but she had known even before she went into the bio-pod that she must be utterly and completely committed to her task. She couldn’t allow anything, or anyone, to distract or divert her from what needed to be done.

  She had wanted him though, desperately enough to offer what she could even knowing how risky it was to allow that much, because, in her heart, she’d known that would only make her want him more, not quench the fire.

  Even when she’d told him she couldn’t allow penetration, she had desperately wanted it. It was scary how badly she’d wanted him to ignore her protests and do what he wanted with her, unnerving how weak her will was where he was concerned.

  Pushing the incident from her mind with an effort, she turned the hot water up until it was next to scalding and finished her shower. By the time she was done, much of her tension had dissipated and exhaustion had set in. Khan was no where in sight when she returned to the living area and reluctantly donned the tunic once more. She stared at his furs longingly for a few moments, almost sorry now that she’d established a boundary between them by silently refusing to share his bed furs, but after a moment she dismissed temptation and moved to the hard platform that was her own ‘bed’.

  Chapter Nine

  For the first time in his life, Khan stood on a rise and stared at his village without the warmth and excitement of homecoming that he’d always felt before when he returned after a long absence. He saw it now through a stranger’s eyes--her eyes--and the emotion most dominant inside of him was shame and embarrassment. There was order about the place, but the shelters were crude--their entire culture was painfully primitive. The people covered their nakedness with the skins of animals they’d killed or poorly constructed garments woven of reeds--both of which carried the unpleasant stench of decay. For the most part, the children scampered about the village naked, squatting to relieve themselves whenever and where ever the mood struck.

  The primitiveness of conditions made him feel vaguely ill and he almost hated Dionne in that moment for removing the veil from his eyes, for making him see his life for what it really was--one step away from the animals they killed and ate for food.

  The sense of shame went deeper even than that.

  From the moment he’d set eyes on her he had wanted her to a point of near desperation. As leader of his people, as a warrior who had earned respect, his self-esteem had been high enough he had not considered it inappropriate to aspire to so fine a creature. It made him cringe inside now to imagine what she must have thought.

  Small wonder she had behaved toward him as if he were simple minded, little more than a beast. Her kindness was almost worse than open contempt would have been. At least then he wouldn’t have made such a complete fool out of himself. If she’d shunned him, he would still have been angry, but it would have been enough to turn him away from her, to kill his interest.

  Several of the villagers noticed him at last and straightened from their tasks. Smiling as recognition dawned, they waved and called out a welcome.

  Khan’s anger waned. He returned the greeting and started down the slope into the village. Children swarmed around him, chattering excited
ly, pelting him with questions about the ‘goddess’ and the ‘temple’. Smiling with an effort, he evaded their questions, but good-naturedly. The adults were more polite and restrained, but he could see that they were as curious as the children.

  Somehow, he made it through the village without losing the false smile he’d pasted on his face and, with relief, ducked at last through the entrance to his lodge.

  He needed time to think--and enough distance from Dionne to think clearly. Wryly, he supposed he should have considered finding a place far from anyone at all, but he had not been near the village in almost two weeks. Regardless of the things that had changed, one thing had not. He was still Chief of his people. They still needed him. There were bound to be problems and/or disputes that had arisen since he had left them that needed his attention.

  The problem looming largest in his mind, however, was Dionne herself.

  His brothers, if they’d known what had transpired between him and Dionne, would call him a fool. She’d offered to give him pleasure. He should have taken it. Even he thought he was a fool for not jumping at the chance, particularly since he hurt all over for refusing.

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, however, he’d known exactly what she hadn’t said.

  He might or might not be up to her stringent standards. She wanted him. She was willing to share her body with him--to a point, to give and take pleasure, but when it came right down to it, she was still going to choose her mate according to the damned computer.

  It was just as well he didn’t know where the main processing unit was. He might have been tempted at that moment to destroy it.

  She would never have forgiven him for it. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself either.

  There was always the chance, of course, that the computer might consider him suitable.

  He shot to his feet at that thought, pacing his lodge like a caged beast, trying to outrun his shame and anger that he was so desperate to have her that such a thought could enter his mind.

  Furious, he decided at that moment that he should have nothing else to do with her. If she was so coldly clinical that she could consider seeking her pleasure with him and then going to whatever male the computer decided was her best match she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.

  He was in love with a mirage--a woman that didn’t exist beyond his mind.

  He was a damned fool.

  Grinding his teeth, he pressed his hands against his pounding skull, as if he could expunge her from his thoughts. It didn’t work. His mind continued to churn with hurt and anger.

  He should have taken her right then, taken exactly what he wanted and left her to figure out how to expel his undesirable seed before it could go near her precious eggs.

  He needed to kill something--an outlet of some kind before he exploded. Erupting from his lodge, he stalked toward the stream. The chill of the water as he dove into the pool took his breath, but it also extinguished much of the fire in him. He swam back and forth across the pool until the tension finally began to subside.

  When he emerged, he discovered Chala was waiting for him.

  Dismay and desire collided inside him, making his belly clench painfully.

  They’d been lovers off and on since they were little more than children.

  He needed an outlet for his frustrated desires and he didn’t doubt for one moment that Chala was more than happy to oblige.

  Without a word, he knelt on the ground beside her and covered her body with his own. She smiled up at him, slipping a hand between them to massage his flaccid member. “I thought you’d claimed the goddess as your woman.”

  He frowned, covering her mouth with his in a deep kiss to shut her up before she said something that completely pissed him off.

  Her mouth was not nearly as sweet as Dionne’s.

  Resolutely, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

  Her hands on him were far more practiced, knowing. By the time he broke the kiss, he was relieved to discover his cock had risen to the occasion. He was nibbling a trail toward one pert nipple when she decided to talk again.

  “You always did know just how to give me pleasure,” she murmured, writhing beneath his caresses.

  He tried to ignore that, too, fighting the urge to plant one hand over her mouth, but the comment so closely echoed the one Dionne had made that the desire he’d been struggling to build died and his erection with it.

  Grinding his teeth, he buried his face between her large breasts, trying to resurrect his fallen warrior.

  It was too much to hope she hadn’t noticed.

  Shoving at his shoulders, she jumped to her feet the moment he rolled away, glaring down at him--or, more accurately--his cock.

  “That--witch has placed a spell on you!”

  Khan sat up. “Just go, Chala, before you make me say something we’ll both regret.”

  Snatching up her dress, she dragged it over her head and stalked off. He lay back, when she’d gone, wondering just how long it was going to take her to spread her tale of woe through the village.

  Realizing finally that he didn’t particularly care, he got up tiredly and pulled his breechcloth on once more. Half way back to the village bathing spot, he passed her entwined with Notaku. She sent him a triumphant smile over Notaku’s shoulder.

  Contrary to her obvious hopes, Khan didn’t feel even a twinge of jealousy, or envy that she’d decided to bestow her favors on Notaku instead.

  He did feel some disgust--mostly with himself.

  He didn’t know whether to be more disgusted by the fact that he couldn’t arouse any interest in another woman because it made him feel guilty as hell, or more disgusted that he would even feel guilt.

  Dionne had been clear enough that she didn’t consider herself his woman.

  Before his ongoing state of unrequited lust could rouse his temper once more, he turned his thoughts to the other matter regarding Dionne--the argument that had led to his most recent brush with madness.

  Beyond the desire to fuck her senseless, which hadn’t actually required a lot of thought, he’d thought of very little besides their dispute from the time it had finally erupted and he wasn’t one bit closer to deciding which of them were right. His first critical view of his village had been more of a jolt than he’d anticipated. Now he understood why Dionne had looked so devastated, so hopeless when he’d brought her here.

  He felt much the same.

  Would it be better for them to feel as he did now, he wondered? Or better to let them cling to their pride in their accomplishments, meager though they were, and their happiness with what they had?

  He was not left alone with his thoughts long. Almost as soon as he reached his lodge again, the village elders gathered outside, requesting council. He invited them in and listened with determined patience as problems were presented for resolution. The session tried his tolerance as it never had before. Ordinarily, the slow progression from one problem to the next, the long discussions of each as each of the elders presented their opinion on the matter, at least held his interest. This time, he found his mind wandering. Toward mid-day, women filed into his lodge bearing food. Debates continued even while they ate.

  Khan ate little of the food himself. He’d noticed with the first bite that the meat that was the main ingredient was borderline spoiled. It wasn’t likely to hurt him. He’d been in the habit of eating just this sort of thing his entire life and knew that was the reason the food was overcooked--to ensure its safety--and well seasoned with wild herbs to mask the taste--but he was aware of it now in a way that made it difficult to swallow.

  It was late in the afternoon that he heard a stir of excitement in the village that caught his wandering attention. With a sense of relief, he cut the council short and left his lodge to see what the commotion was about.

  The villagers, he saw, were hurrying toward the opposite end of the village. Pushing his way through the flow, he strode quickly along the main pa
th toward the rise where he’d entered the village that morning.

  He stopped abruptly when he saw Dionne sitting on the rise overlooking the village.

  When everyone had gathered, she stood up and looked out over the crowd. For several moments her gaze locked with his, and then moved on. The villagers fell silent beneath her gaze, tensed, obviously unnerved by her presence. Finally, as if some silent communication had drifted through the gathering, they knelt and bowed to her.

  Even from where he stood, Khan could see that worshipfulness embarrassed her and he wondered what had made him think even for a moment that her motives were less than pure, that she might abuse her position and use it to exert power over the simple people she was dealing with.

  “For many generations you have gone to the lifeless plain to worship and pray to your gods to favor you with the gift of renewal,” she said finally.

  Khan tensed, wondering if he’d misjudged her--again.

  “I’ve come to offer you the gift. It’s the gift of knowing all the things that were learned long, long ago in the days before the world was covered with ice. This knowledge will change--everything, but it will also give you the chance to build a better life for your children and their children.

  “I can not take it back, once given, so you must think hard before you decide to make this choice whether you want to know, or if you want to go on as you have, as your fathers did.

  “If you want this gift, if you are not afraid to change if it will make your children’s lives better, then you need only come to me on the lifeless plain and I will give it to you. It’s your choice.”

  From the moment she’d begun to speak, the villagers had sat up to listen. Slowly, as if they weren’t entirely certain it would be allowed, they stood. The warrior, Notaku, was the first to stand. “You are not a goddess,” he said, almost challengingly.