by Amy Cook
“What do you want right now?” she whispered.
“You.” The way he said it, the way his soul-searching eyes bored into her very core told her that his answer was a reflection of one she had given him all those months ago. When he had looked at her through his Hybrid’s gaze, and asked her what she saw when she looked at him, at his tattoos. She’d replied with a simple “You.” And their friendship had been blooming ever since. Now he was offering her his own simple answer, one that held a depth that was anything but simple.
“I’ve never wanted anythin’ as much as I want you, Thumbelina. Ya make me want what I’ve never allowed myself to even consider before.” He ran his thumb along her lip once more. “I’ve wanted to kiss these lips for so many long and torturous months.”
Her knees felt weak. He wanted her. “So what’s stopping you?” she questioned boldly.
His eyes locked with hers, refusing to relinquish their hold.
“There are things we haven’t discussed about Hybrids and Foundation. I… I need ya to know everythin’, before you’re willin’ to go any further.” That was actually a very honest, mature reason; though coming from Harley, it didn’t surprise her at all. It did, however, deepen her respect for him.
“Okay,” she stated simply.
“Okay?” Harley asked, as though giving her another chance to back out. She smiled.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, more to himself than her. “Can you sit down?” A shy expression masked his face as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I can’t think straight with ya touchin’ me.”
Amiel smiled to herself, but quickly went to sit in the chair. He nodded to himself and then began to pace, hands rubbing together as he sorted his thought process.
“Hybrids are still a fairly new thing. We’re kept on a tight leash. Strictly speakin’, relationships outside of Cajun and Charleen are forbidden, and that is only allowed because of their leadership positions. Of course, there are the occasional law breakers at Foundation, Hybrids that have a fling with one another now and then. But if it is discovered, it’s quickly… put to rest.” She didn’t have to ask to know what that meant.
“No wonder so many people have to be put down,” Amiel pondered sadly. “That must be so very lonely and depressing.”
Harley nodded. “It can be.”
“But, you’re in a leadership position, right?”
He paused in his pacing.
“So, you could take a mate?” The word sounded oddly more intimate than the typical girlfriend/wife words, and she found herself fidgeting bashfully in the chair. His eyes found hers, holding them with that hypnotic power he seemed to carry in his gaze lately whenever he spoke to her.
“I could,” he confirmed. “My mate would become the fourth and final section of leadership.”
“Sounds like a highly sought-after position.” She smirked, though she felt a twist within, an uncomfortable squirming of jealousy.
“The position of power is, yes. But it comes with its own prices.”
“Such as?”
He hesitated, considering his wording again.
“The relationship rules are meant to protect Foundation from us.”
“Protect them how?”
“From procreation.” He paused, letting the words sink in. Her lips pursed in thought.
“I see.”
“The lower caste females are given a sort of Hybrid birth control shot each morning. Their lives are seen as expendable, should the shots fail. Leadership mates, however, are a bit different.”
“How so?”
“Leaders are those who have weathered the rigors of Hybrid life and climbed to the top. They are harder to come by, therefore much less expendable. In addition to the daily shots, the female’s eggs are harvested every month. Sedation does not work on us, and therefore the procedure is a very painful one. It’s a lot to ask of someone, to be your mate, when you know they will have to go through that each month.”
Amiel swallowed. It was a daunting proposal, for certain. She pushed forward, trying to maintain an objective point of view.
“Wouldn’t it serve Foundation’s purposes better to remove the leadership mates’… uh...”
Harley got the point, and quickly moved on so that she didn’t have to embarrass them with further hand gestures or floundering words.
“They could take everythin’ out, yes; unlike the eggs, it wouldn’t grow back. We can’t regrow organs or limbs, just fix damage done to them. They cannot remove the male parts of the anatomy, as they need that to function as proper Hybrids. Vasectomies regrow within hours, and without the other bits… well, let’s just say eunuchs would suck at their job and be useless. And Foundation won’t risk removal of the female anatomy, because they fear it will compromise the Blood Moon Hunts.”
Amiel frowned in question. Harley winced, the subject matter clearly not to his liking.
“Every time one of our women goes through their… cycles, the scent and change in pheromones draws Rabids in. With most Hybrids, it’s faint, but detectable. Charleen’s is… more potent. Maybe it’s because she’s in leadership position, more likely it’s because she was born as a Hybrid. But whatever the reason, it’s there. And Foundation uses it as a weapon. Once a month, we gather together and go on a hunt as one. Charleen leads, and her scent draws in hordes of Rabids. It’s how we stay mostly ahead of the Rabid growth here.”
“Wow.” She paused. “Wait… so, you can smell when it’s that time… for me?”
Harley’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he offered a stiff nod.
“Well. That’s awkward,” she muttered, and based on the way he cleared his throat, he agreed.
“And it’s almost as potent as Charleen’s. Seems to grow more so each time. Which explains part of the Rabid attraction to you,” he added gruffly. “So, chances are, if you were with me, you’d have to do the same thing as Charleen. Every month.”
Amiel nodded, just trying to soak up everything he told her.
“Aside from the medical discomforts, any mate I chose would have to fight her way through the ranks, proving she was worthy of the leadership title. She’d be challenged. A lot.”
“Must be willing to be cut open every month and kick butt on an hourly basis. Got it. What’s next?”
His eyes widened, clearly surprised by how calmly she was taking this discussion so far. She smiled inside.
“Uh… ya got any questions about any of that so far? I wanna make sure ya don’t have anythin’ left unanswered. I’ll try to answer everythin’ as clearly as I can.” This time, her smile was harder to keep under the surface. He was obviously preparing himself for girly-related questions that all men wanted to avoid at any cost.
“The ‘Hybrids cannot be sedated’ part. Go.”
He released an audibly relieved sigh. No embarrassing girl questions.
“Okay. It’s the opposite of stimulants. Our bodies run at accelerated states constantly; it’s how we heal so quickly, how we are always ready for a fight. Use of drugs or stimulants can be dangerous because of that. Left alone, it will overload, corrode, and eventually destroy us from within.”
“I thought you said I had to burn the drugs off in my system, by getting worked up and agitated. Wouldn’t that have just killed me faster?”
He stared at her with an expression that told her that was exactly what could have happened. Her lips parted, unsure what to say. So she settled for a simple, “Oh.”
“It was a risk. I coulda left the stimulant in your system, but it woulda been a slower and typically inevitable death. Or you can run the risk of heightened activity in an effort to forcefully and quickly purge it from your system before it can damage too much. Either it will be flushed out, or the acceleration will destroy ya before it can work its way out.” He met her gaze squarely. “I took that calculated risk. I had to try somethin’ to save ya. Foundation has had more luck in the past with the accelerated version. And, lucky for us, you’re strong
.”
She felt an undeniable surge of pride from within at that statement. “Okay, I get that. Thanks for the choice you made; I approve. Living works for me.”
He smirked, playing along with her somewhat shaky joke.
“So, sedation…?”
“Sedation works the opposite. Our bodies burn it off before it has a chance to do any good.
“Right. Okay. What’s next on the list of reasons not to date Amiel?”
“Well. In the beginnin’, I was worried my DNA would kill ya.”
“Because of your deadly good looks?” she cheesed, trying to take the edge off. Harley scoffed.
“Because my saliva produces the same dangers that Rabid saliva does.”
She was taken slightly off guard by his blunt presentation of that fact. But in a good way. He really had been thinking about kissing her for a long time. And despite the heavy subject material, he was starting to loosen up a bit in delivery. A thought occurred to her.
“Is your blood the same way?”
“Yes, though not nearly as potent as our saliva.”
“But that’s why you were worried when you Collapsed and I cleaned your wounds. Because I’d touched your blood?”
“Yeah.” He sat on the bed, staring down at his hands. “It was definitely a concern. But mainly it was because of the fact that it made ya smell like me, marked you as mine in a way, and it made me wanna kiss ya, which led back to the saliva concern.”
She blinked, again surprised by his honesty. He was really taking that vow to answer every question as thoroughly as he could seriously. And she really liked it.
“Good to know. I like the honesty.”
He offered a bashful grin, rubbing at his arm. She moved forward so as not to embarrass him back to his guarded ways. “You said you were worried about that in the beginning. What changed?”
“I did my research. After you started displayin’ Hybrid attributes, back when Pell took blood samples…” He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I may have asked Pell to test your blood, and to mix it with mine.”
“Oh.” Amiel’s brows rose in surprise again.
“I hope that doesn’t make ya mad. But I feared, what with the way I was feelin’ every time I was near ya, with the way ya looked at me sometimes, it was just a matter of time before my strength to resist ya ran out. I needed to know if I was puttin’ ya in danger, bein’ so near.” He stood, running a hand through his hair.
“If somethin’ as simple as a kiss could mean me signin’ your death warrant...” He paused, eyes shifting to meet hers, a tortured gleam within the dark storm churning there. “I’ve feared killin’ the ones I loved all my life, Thumbelina. It would crush me if I was the cause of your death. Absolutely crush me.”
Her heart skittered wildly inside as she lost herself in the current of his tortured gaze. She slowly rose from the chair. “I assume the test had good results.”
He tensed, nodding cautiously as he watched her move to stand before him. Her hands found their way to lightly grasp his wrists where they rested at his sides.
“Is there anything else you think I should know?” she murmured. He swallowed.
“Like I said, I ain’t got no idea what I’m doin’. I meant it when I said I got no experience with women. Absolutely none,” he clarified, accent becoming more marked in his nervousness. A tremor ran through him as she ran her hands lightly up the backs of his arms, taking her time and leaving a trail of goose bumps on their way to his shoulders.
“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’ll be just fine.” Her hands moved to slip up into his hair.
“Sure about that, kid?” he asked shakily. She nodded, deliberately pressing into him. He cleared his throat nervously. “How do ya know?”
“Because it’s all about instinct,” she whispered, moving to stand on her tippy toes. Her lips brushed his mouth with each word, teasing. “And if there’s one thing I know about you, Harley, it’s that you’re intensely good at mastering your instincts.”
He closed his eyes, shivering as his hands rose to grip her waist. His fingers tensed, kneading her flesh and timidly pulling her closer. She smiled against his lips.
“See? You’re already catching on.”
“What do I do now?” he breathed out shakily, hooded eyes opening to seek out hers.
“You’re thinking too much. Trust your instincts, Harley. Let go of everything but that.”
He tensed, wild panic echoing through the current. “Instinct has to be controlled, tamed. I can’t just let it go; I’ve seen what happens to the ones who do. I could hurt ya.”
“You never have, and you never will,” she assured him, pouring every ounce of her confidence into her gaze. “Instinct isn’t always bad, Harley. Sometimes, it’s the wildness of instinct that takes your breath away.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, hard. She tried again.
“You’d never hurt me like that. I’m the center of your storm.”
His eyes opened, a small amount of hope building within those azure blues. “When I’m fightin’, I can trust it. But with you? I don’t know if I can.”
“Does your Hybrid want to hurt me?” Amiel looked deeply into his eyes, asking his Hybrid as much as she asked Harley. His head ticked to the side in thought, the negative head-shake nearly instant. Yet still the frown remained.
“But I don’t know that I can trust it to not take things too far. It does want that.”
“The Hybrid instinct is part of who you are, Harley. It’s part of what I love about you. And if I ask you to stop, you’ll stop. I trust you. All of you,” she said pointedly. She could almost feel the Hybrid and man watching her separately, assessing her and the situation. And she definitely felt the moment when they became one in agreement on their respect for her boundaries. Her hand pressed to his heart.
“You’ve always taken care of me, Superman. Now it’s your turn to let me take care of you.”
His eyes widened slightly. His pecs flexed beneath her touch, chest rising with increased pace of breath. Swallowing hard, he dropped his eyes to her lips, and, ever so slowly, his hands reverently slipped upward to cradle her face. She smiled encouragingly when she saw the return of sheer panic in his gaze.
He was her big, bad protector, but he was truly vulnerable and innocent in this respect. He'd spent his entire life being strong, burying any emotions that he felt made him weak. He loved and he was loyal to the bone, there was no doubt of that in her mind. But he held himself aloof, apart, from even those he loved most. His mother had destroyed his relationship with women, and Tandy was hardly big on physical affection. She could imagine him going through most of his youth without a hug. Sure, her own mother had been distant, her father missing from a large part of her life. Yet Jaron had hugged her daily when home, and she had hardly been lacking in the relationship area, thanks to her overbearing mother. She found it oddly humbling that she was the voice of experience here.
With a stabilizing breath, she slowly slid her palms down his chest, over his abs and finally around to hook into the loops of his jeans. He shuddered beneath her touch, and she could feel his desperate need for closeness radiating through their bond. Her strong protector and champion was just a lonely boy, desperate for love, on the inside. In that moment, she was determined to give him every ounce she possessed.
“Kiss me, Harley.” She leaned so close, her lips brushed against his feather-soft mouth with each word she spoke. “Stop thinking, and start feeling. You want me, your Hybrid wants me. Work together for what you want. Claim what’s already yours.” The moment the words slipped from her lips, his mouth met hers, barely there, tense, and hesitant. Her lips parted slightly, encouraging him yet letting him adjust, letting him set his own pace. He pulled back a little, looking in her eyes as though to assure himself she wasn’t displeased with his efforts. She gave a gentle tug on the loops of his jeans, giving him all the encouragement he needed. Leaning in, he tested a few more gentle pecks. The c
aress of his lips slowly became more confident, more curious.
She moved her hands to press flat to his chest, smiling when the muscles flexed beneath the touch. She rather enjoyed that little quirk of his, the way his muscles reacted to her touch. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, the action seeming to fuel his confidence further as his body pressed hers back against the wall. His lips opened against hers, and she gasped.
Despite her best intentions to let him take the lead, she deepened the kiss, hands sliding into his hair to hold him closer. Harley tensed, and then groaned into her mouth. His thumb stroked her jaw, fingers slipping through her locks as his hand then made its way down her neck, over her shoulder, and down her back. It came to rest on her hip, firmly gripping it, pulling her closer.
“Are you sure you've never done this?” she gasped, coming up for air. He moved his lips to press sweet kisses along her jaw. The shivers were back in full force, racing across her skin, sending jolts of heat across every inch of skin Harley touched. She relished it. He pulled away enough to meet her eyes, a shy smile on his lips.
“Never,” he swore adamantly.
“Well then... I think it's safe to say you're a natural.”
His smile gained an edge of confidence, making it that much more breathtaking. Smirking, she stood on her tippy toes, hands on his shoulders. “Don't get too arrogant, though. I think you still have plenty of practicing to do.”
His brows rose, smile brightening. “I’m very dedicated to practicin’. I’ve been known to spend hours at a time, practicin’, every day.”
Her heart flipped as he leaned forward, stealing her breath with kisses that grew more expert by each touch. Minutes passed, maybe hours, as they tested the new boundaries of this relationship. Never once did he or his Hybrid nature press her for more. It matched what she gave, never overstepping the boundaries. Eventually, out of breath and momentarily appeased by their heated makeout session, they ended up cuddling on her bed. Harley stared at her in awe, lightly running his fingertips down her arms, along the lines of her face, down her neck.
