by Anna Carven
She is a peaceful creature, and yet somehow she embraces the dichotomy within me. She knows I cherish her and Ami with every fiber of my being, but sometimes my Kordolian instincts come to the fore. In the past, I have almost paid the most unspeakable price for letting my guard down.
Never again.
I cradle Ami in one arm as I pick up the sleeping pouch from a nearby chair and place it inside her crib. With great care, I lay her down, wrapping the soft fabric pouch around her. It is a human creation, this small soft fabric bag, designed to close soundlessly without disturbing the sleeping child. Humans might not be the most technologically advanced species in the Universe, but humans can be surprisingly inventive. They have devised an endless array of convenient devices to assist with child-rearing.
Ami does not stir as I stroke her soft, wispy hair and whisper an Aikun blessing, the words coming to my lips unbidden, a fragment of some lost memory from the past.
For a moment, I just stare at my child, marveling at how this pure, innocent creature is connected to me.
Child of the stars.
My very own flesh and blood.
The future of our once-doomed race.
How did this precious miracle come from me?
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have to protect her with every fiber of my being, even if I must be utterly ruthless. My enemies might like to think that fatherhood has made me soft, but really, having Abbey and Ami in my possession has had the opposite effect.
My resolve is stronger than ever.
I leave my daughter sleeping soundly in her crib, pressing a control panel on the wall as I leave. The windows darken, diminishing the brilliant glow of the stars above. Still, they do not turn completely opaque, because I have selected the half-tint setting.
My child will sleep bathed in starlight.
Sleep well, heart of my heart.
I have a theory on why Abbey finds it so difficult to put Ami to sleep, but I will discuss that with my mate later, when she is a little less… prickly.
For now, I will give her the space she needs. Even she, the friendly one, the talkative one, the generous one, needs time to herself sometimes. I know the silent battles she has fought as she nurtures our child. I know of the sleepless nights and tiring days and the immense changes her body has undergone. I have seen the way she loves and cares for our child, the way she never, ever loses her patience, her gentleness, even when Ami is at her most difficult.
I am a very fortunate fiend.
I will go to Abbey when she is ready.
About forty-five Earth minutes or so. That’s how long it usually it takes for her to get bored of her own company and seek me out...
And then I will give her exactly what she needs, because I know her best, and even this irritable mood of hers will not deter me.
I always finish what I set out to do.
2
Abbey
I stand under the shower, enjoying the warm water as it cascades over my aching body. With my belly full—I devoured the leftovers of Kenna’s home-made carbonara and her delicious banana ice-cream—I feel much better, except for the fact that my body feels like it’s falling apart.
I don’t really know why I feel sore all over, but for some reason, everything aches.
My neck, my back, my shoulders, my boobs. Especially my boobs.
Damnit. It’s almost as bad as when I had mastitis.
Adding to my misery is the bone-tiredness that seeps into every cell of my body. This motherhood thing isn’t as easy and magical as they all make it out to be in those holo-instructionals. Somehow, I was under the impression that I would turn into this serene, motherly home-goddess, that everything would just come naturally, and that Ami would sleep like a princess.
It doesn’t quite work like that, though.
Still, I wouldn’t change my life for anything in the world. Ami and Tarak are the best things that have ever happened to me.
As the warm, comforting water washes over me, I let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off this feeling of… I don’t know what exactly. Tension? Irritability? Feeling sorry for myself? It’s all of the above, and for some reason, I feel like I might burst into tears at any moment.
It’s stupid, I know. I have no reason to feel this way. Tarak’s home, and even though I snapped at him, he took it all in his stride and soothed Ami to bed. The man has a way of putting that kid to sleep in minutes.
Some people would be shocked if they knew about this gentle side of his. He’s so big and intimidating and just, well… Tarak. Looking at his hard exterior, you wouldn’t think he had it in him. But I know my husband, and I know his capacity for tenderness. It’s the sexiest thing.
Okay, so just thinking about him makes me feel a little less frazzled, and the shower is doing wonders. I almost feel normal again, even though I’ve forgotten what normal is.
“Feeling better?” As if he’s been reading my thoughts, my damnable husband materializes out of nowhere in his usual ghost-like manner, appearing behind me in the heat and steam of the shower. I know for a fact that he doesn’t even like hot showers, but if he’s bothered, he doesn’t let it show.
He just slips his arms around my waist and holds me, and of course, he’s naked.
His body is warm and hard and slick with moisture, and his hands are as devious as ever, sliding down over my hips, my ass, my thighs.
“I think so,” I say, leaning into him with a sigh. “I don’t know why I’ve been in such a shitty mood all day. Sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
“Sorry?” A note of dark amusement enters his voice. “That’s a word I rarely hear.”
“Are you trying to say that I’m pigheaded and rarely apologize?” I elbow him in the stomach, knowing that I couldn’t hurt him even if I tried.
“I do not know what pigheaded means.” He holds me tighter, dropping hot, sensual kisses at the base of my neck. “What I meant was that I have many enemies, and that a former General of the Kordolian Empire does not receive much in the way of apologies.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for being cranky, and now you have to accept my apology, Mister former General.”
He chuckles. “I categorically reject your apology, wife.”
“What?” I try to summon some decent mock outrage, but the sound of his deep, rumbling laughter has made me feel all warm and giddy inside. Damn it. He always does this to me, and he knows it.
“There is nothing to be sorry for. You have had a difficult day. I had unexpected business to attend to. But I am here now.”
“Mhmmm.” A sense of wonder engulfs me as I close my eyes and let him massage my aching back. I don’t think my husband realizes how impossibly attractive he is. He’s the sort of person who’s content to wander around the place totally naked, completely oblivious to the fact that he has the honed physique of a space-god; a body carved from years of harsh training and fighting.
I could ogle him all day.
But such perfection has come at a price.
His flawless silver skin hides a painful past. He doesn’t have all of his memories. Very rarely, he talks in his sleep, speaking in Kordolian, sounding angry, or sad, or completely devoid of emotion. The last one is the scariest of them all. Nowadays, I understand a lot of what he says, and it chills me to the bone.
He is hyper-vigilant, overprotective, controlling, and an absolute terror to his enemies.
And yet oh-so sweet.
“I know what you need,” he whispers, his rough voice mingling with the gentle hiss of the water as it cascades over our bodies. He slowly spins me around, brushing a strand of wet hair away from my face. His roving, possessive hands slide up and down, kneading the tension out of my aching back.
His magical touch and the warm water have lulled me into a languorous state. I sway on my feet, feeling mildly aroused, but also bone-weary.
“Abbey,” Tarak whispers, shutting off the shower. “You are tired. Come.”
The
next few minutes pass in a blur. A soft fluffy towel is wrapped around me, and in seconds, I’m dry. We move to the bed, and he deposits me into the soft sheets, tucking me in. I stretch and sigh, feeling weightless, as if I’m lying on a bed of clouds.
It’s so good to be off my feet. Sleep has been elusive these past few days. I just want to…
Just a few minutes.
My eyelids grow heavy. I fight to keep awake, because knowing Tarak, he’s probably aroused as hell. His sexual energy is seemingly limitless, and he always makes time for intimacy, even when he’s had the shittiest of days.
I glance at him, trying to gauge his, uh, physical reaction, but he’s already dressed, tying the belt of his soft, loose kashkan robe, which has materialized out of nowhere.
If he’s aroused, he’s giving no indication.
My breathing deepens. I’m floating on a haze of warmth and drowsiness and relief as my heavy, aching body succumbs to fatigue.
“Sorry, I don’t think I can stay awake… I’m just so tir—”
“Sleep, amina.” There he is, right beside me, his voice a deep, reassuring rumble, his fingers impossibly gentle as he strokes my cheek.
“Mother of our child,” he whispers, a note of pride entering his voice. The last shreds of my irritability melt away.
Tears come to my eyes, unbidden.
Stupid, stupid fragile mood that’s come over me. I sniff, feeling a bit silly. Right now, I’m the equivalent of an emotional omelette; just a hot, scrambled, tired mess.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Tarak brushes a tear from the corner of my eye with his thumb. “Get some rest, Abbey.” Despite his gentle touch, a hint of sternness enters his voice.
“Yessir,” I murmur, not even having the energy to sound sarcastic as my eyes close and sheer exhaustion takes me, pulling me into sleep at last.
3
Tarak
Change of plans. For once in my life, I show some restraint when it comes to her. She is my weakness, my indulgence, my obsession.
My strength.
I have a raging erection, but I leave the room unsatisfied, because my mate is so obviously exhausted. There is no way I can demand my satisfaction from her when she is barely able to keep her eyes open.
I will just have to stew in this exquisite madness for a while. I know what to do. It is nothing new. Before we discovered the existence of humans, things were a lot worse, believe me.
I move quietly through the house, drawing on my considerable self-control to rein in my lust. I briefly consider other… artificial methods of giving myself relief, but quickly dismiss the thought, because ever since I claimed Abbey, nothing else will suffice.
She is my first and only. I am not interested in anything else. Her body is mine to savor and pleasure as I wish, and when she is ready, I will give her what she truly needs.
And I will take what I desire.
This small moment of restraint will only serve to make the act of fucking her even more intense, and much, much sweeter.
I seem to have developed a reputation in the Nine Galaxies for being impatient, but those who do not know me well misunderstand me.
I can be very patient when I choose.
I make my way to the main living space, where a set of wide glass-paneled doors—newly reinforced, of course—give way to the outer deck. The doors have been tuned to my bio-sig, and they slide open as I near the threshold.
It is quite easy to integrate Kordolian technology into human structures. Because human tech is so basic, our engineers have no problems threading nanostructures through almost anything that is human-made. They can even change things at the molecular level, if they wish.
Everything in this Kaiin-forsaken settlement has been modified to satisfy my requirements. Security is paramount. Our imprint is everywhere now, even if it is not visible to the human eye.
I step out onto the deck and stare up at the night sky, welcoming the change in temperature as the heat of the day melts away. The one redeeming feature of this cursed dust-bowl is that it becomes pleasantly cool at night.
I open my comm with a silent mental command, sending a transmission into the silent vacuum of Earth’s low orbit, where my warship, Silence, lurks. “Jeral.”
The comm’s AI is sophisticated enough to recognize my tone, and it instantaneously channels my call to Jeral Kythelian’s own embedded comm.
“Sir?” The twin comes online.
“Have you interrogated the Ephrenian captain?”
“A surprisingly hard kvanek to crack, but he gave me what I wanted… eventually.”
“Good. You have found the contacts?”
“The seller’s still on Earth. The drop-off point’s on Zarhab Groht. I’m guessing whoever receives them is going to be a well-armed errand-boy for the buyers. Kordolian, no doubt.”
“Then you will have no problem hunting him down.”
“Looking forward to it.” There’s a note of relish in his voice. “I need the exercise.”
Jeral’s been assigned to Earth duty for the last two cycles. Of course he’s itching for a good hunt.
“We will deal with the seller.” For once, I am glad to have something to distract me from carnal thoughts of my mate. If I focus on the task at hand, my seething lust becomes almost bearable. As my mind turns to the crime of slavery—one I intend to punish with death—my anger rises.
“I have a name and a location,” Jeral informs me, “but you’re going to have to consult one of the humans on the specifics, because I have no fucking idea what a shell company is, and neither does the captain. He was simply told to make the drop, and that the entity—this so-called shell company—would pay him.” Jeral hisses in frustration. “Is it part of human culture to make things so needlessly complicated?”
A wry snort of amusement escapes me. That particular question has crossed my mind more than once. “We will let the captain make the drop on Zarhab Groht. The buyer has no idea the Ephrenians are compromised. We allow the shipment to proceed to its destination, and then we will see who greets it in the docks.”
“I know you aren’t going to put those females back on the ship, so what are we going to use for bait?”
“Holograms. Naturally, you will take the receiver down before he has time to figure out he’s been duped.” The human females are in a secure facility now, undergoing a thorough medical checkup. Once they are cleared—physically and mentally—they will be returned to Earth.
“They’ll probably send some lowly underling. The ones behind such operations rarely reveal themselves.”
“Underlings can be followed. Interrogated. Manipulated. A lead is a lead.” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, clearing my mind of its lustful fog. Bit by bit, my arousal abates, and my usual level of concentration returns. There are times when work has its benefits. Right now, I need some sort of distraction to stop me from rousing my mate from her much needed sleep. The mere thought of her makes me burn. “Underlings always return to the hive, eventually.”
“He can lead us to the buyers.”
“Yes. But naturally, they will have no idea we are onto them until we are breathing down their fucking necks. The Earth authorities are not to know of it either. I want this resolved quietly and without incident, and I want the underling taken alive. Inform me when he is in our possession. I will interrogate him myself.”
“Understood.”
“Oh, and Jeral?”
“Sir?”
“You will mete out an appropriate punishment to the Ephrenian and his crew. I want them kept alive, but with a visible deterrent. The word must spread. Be creative if you must.”
“I’ll put on a little show right in the middle of Z-G. Anyone who’s tempted to make a few credits from body-trading will be looking into other lines of business after I’m done with them.”
“Good. Get it done.”
I have no doubt Jeral will execute his task without a hitch. Compared to some of the missions he’s carri
ed out for the Empire, it’s a ridiculously simple task.
I cut the comm and watch a small group of strange fur-covered creatures as they hop across the dusty ground. Wallabies. That is what Abbey calls them. In the stillness of the night, they emerge to graze on small patches of grass. Strangely, the vegetation has turned green over the past few days. Several nights ago, I watched from the deck as water fell from the sky, turning the parched ground into a rust-colored mudflat. I allowed the cool moisture to fall upon my bare skin as my mate and my child slept soundly upstairs.
Water from the sky. Huh.
It was a strange sensation indeed.
An Earthly sensation.
A lot happens here in the deep of the night, and somehow, I have grown used to this place, with its contrary climate and strange creatures and uninterrupted views of the stars.
A soft, bitter laugh escapes my lips.
When I was a young soldier, completely mired in my own brutality and loyal to the destructive Empire, some wayward part of me longed for a planet to call my own; a place where I could settle and find some sort of permanence. Ideally, a planet populated with inferior creatures that I could subjugate and force to do my bidding.
But in the Empire, lowly soori like myself were not permitted to own property, and having a place of my own was a distant, indulgent thought.
Not anymore.
I have my domain now, complete with strange furry hopping creatures and intolerable weather and a population of illogical aliens called humans, one of whom just so happens to be my mate. She is definitely not inferior, and I would be a fool to try and bend her to my will.
Make Abbey submit to my demands?
The thought is almost amusing in its absurdity. Believe me, I would never hear the end of it. Abbey does not bow to anyone. None are safe from her dreaded eye-rolls.
