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Sanctuary: A Dark Planet Warriors Novella

Page 13

by Anna Carven


  “Ka’qui,” Ashrael says, his voice barely a whisper. He’s Noa’s shield, the only being in the Universe who can silence the voices in her head… just by the sheer force of his presence.

  “We just took a few belongings and some ancient texts from the palace’s library. Siluria was amazing. I can’t believe that planet is still uninhabited. Well, there are a few Kordolian outposts there, but that’s all, really. It was the perfect place for what I needed to do. Little by little, we learned things about my abilities… and his.” Her gaze settles upon Ashrael, and they share a silent communication that makes my fine hairs stand on end. Mindspeech. There’s something completely otherworldly about these two.

  Sometimes I forget that up until only recently, Ashrael was in forced servitude, stuck in a horrible mindbond that allowed his evil mistress to bend his will to hers.

  Oh, and did I mention that he was a lethal assassin, one of the most skilled in the Kordolian Empire?

  Yeah, he tried to kill my husband once upon a time, and he was going to kill me too, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. I think we’ve resolved our differences now. He’s not a bad guy, all things considered.

  “You know what?” I sink down into the soft, cozy sofa, my eyes drooping a little, my voice slurring. Damn it. I can’t help it. I feel so languorous right now. “You know what you remind me of?”

  “What, Abbey?” Noa cocks her head, looking faintly amused. She’s perfectly sober, too. Hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night.

  “You’re like one of those old-school… what do they call them? Superheroes. Like you’ve suddenly discovered these awesome powers.”

  “I don’t wear a special skintight suit.” Noa clears her throat. Oops, I’ve embarrassed her. “I would say the same about you,” she retorts.

  “I don’t have any powers, though.” I laugh. Well, my legs are a little bit stronger than normal and I heal faster than the ordinary human, but that’s about it.

  “Look around you, Abbey. Look at what you’ve done, and with who. If that’s not superpowers, then I don’t know what is.”

  “Huh.” I blink. The woman who can disturb entire planets with just her mind is suggesting that I’ve done something extraordinary.

  Nah. I just follow my gut and try and do what’s right. It’s what dad and Kenna taught me. I don’t know any other way.

  I raise my hand to stifle a yawn as I search for my mate with my eyes. Where has Tarak gone? The sun is high in the sky now, making it appear as if millions of tiny diamonds are embedded in the snow.

  It’s dazzling.

  Out on the ice, several Kordolian warriors are engaged in a hand-to-hand sparring match. I think they’re naked, but they’re too far away for me to clearly see, thank the stars.

  That’s their version of fun, I believe.

  But as spectacular as the outside scenery is, I just can’t seem to keep my damn eyes open. This sleepiness has come over me like a sudden fog; so powerful, so cloying. An oppressive mood settles across the room, and it’s not just me who’s feeling it.

  A hush descends upon our gathering. People are yawning, looking tired, confused, and more than a little irritable.

  What is this feeling?

  “Your child wants to sleep,” Ashrael says softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “She is broadcasting that fact to the world.”

  Oh god, Ami.

  She’s responsible for this? It’s a little bit terrifying, because we still have no idea what she’s truly capable of.

  In a mild state of panic, I look around. Where’s Jia? She took Ami from me only a few minutes ago. She’s been looking for excuses to hang out with our little monster all night.

  Clucky, much? She’s so ready. She and Kalan both.

  As I look around in alarm, Jia emerges with a drowsy looking Ami in her arms.

  “She’s tired,” we say in unison. I rise to my feet, reaching out for my baby.

  “Mommy,” Ami says, holding out her arms. She nestles against my chest, and I plant a gentle kiss on her wispy hair. Her soft baby scent is familiar and comforting and utterly pure.

  How could I have forgotten that it’s way past her bedtime? The daylight threw me off. We left the desert and flew back toward the sun, catching morning on the other side of the planet. Officially, we’re both jet-lagged. I need to put her to bed straight away, but I don’t know where our quarters are.

  “Tarak!” I blurt loudly, before remembering that there are other people around. Oops.

  Jia smirks, but her expression quickly disappears as my husband materializes beside us, looming over us in a manner that could be perceived as mildly threatening if I didn’t know him better.

  “What is wrong?” A palpable sense of urgency surrounds him, as if he’s going to unleash total death and destruction at the mere suggestion of a threat.

  “She needs to go to bed.” I sway on my feet as Ami curls her arms around me, radiating warmth. The drowsy feeling becomes more intense, but now it’s tempered with a warm-and-fuzzy sensation. Sweet little monster.

  Tarak puts his hands on my shoulders, and the power of his gentle-yet-possessive touch seeps into my bones. “Let’s go.”

  I offer Noa and Ashrael an apologetic wave. Noa smiles. “Um…” She raises her hand, a little uncertain.

  “Yes, Noali?” And it is my husband who answers, curling his arm protectively around my waist.

  “We have some suggestions that might help, when you’re ready. With… the little one, I mean.”

  Tarak’s expression is unreadable. He’s looking at Ashrael, and they’re doing that Kordolian guy thing, sizing each other up, waging a silent battle with their eyes. “Good,” he says at last, making it seem as if having a kid with psychic abilities is the most normal thing in the world.

  Then Tarak takes Ami from my tired arms and we move through the party, he as silent and graceful and commanding as ever, me shuffling and tipsy.

  But strangely, I don’t feel self-conscious at all.

  I’m simply content.

  His arm is around my waist. I’m cocooned in his scent, his warmth, his presence.

  I could happily drown in it.

  19

  Abbey

  “I’m drunk,” I declare, flopping down on the soft bed and letting out a blissful sigh. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen me like this… have you?” The full force of the wine is starting to kick in. My filter is gone. Tarak is watching me with intense laser-focus from his throne-like chair; a dark, organically shaped thing. I swear he’s transplanted it directly from Silence.

  He doesn’t say anything.

  Me, without a filter.

  Tarak being his usual self. Unreadable. Calculating.

  That’s potentially dangerous.

  We’re in a private wing of second floor of this house, structure, whatever this place is. Tarak’s clearly had a hand in the design, because it’s starkly minimal yet luxurious. The bed is amazing. Beyond our Qualum door is a small antechamber that connects with Ami’s room, where she’s fast asleep.

  I close my eyes as sleep threatens to overtake me. It was such an effort just to get into the shower and not fall asleep in the gentle cascade of warm water, but with Tarak’s help, I managed to don a soft robe and make it to the bed.

  He even watched as I positioned my sanipod afterwards, my fingers moving deftly to part my uber-sensitive folds as I explained its purpose.

  Stars, the things we women have to do. But he didn’t even blink. He of all people isn’t afraid of a little blood. He’s more scared of accidentally hurting me.

  Never in a million years could I have imagined that the mundane, slightly icky task of inserting a sanipod could become slightly erotic.

  I’m totally spoilt… and now I’m horny. Tired, but horny. I want to jump his bones, but my body just won’t cooperate.

  Languid desire. Slow-burning temptation.

  Not fair.

  He’s ruined me.

  “You’re too perfect,”
I mumble, opening my eyes a sliver so I can catch sight of him in all his silver-and-white glory. He’s naked again, because the cold can’t touch him, because his kind have a very alien approach to modesty or the lack thereof.

  “Is that a legitimate complaint, my love?”

  “More of an observation, really. Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

  “Many things,” he says, leaning back in his dark chair. “But only you know that.”

  I turn my head, surveying the glorious landscape of his body. “You’re…” Spectacular. I never get tired of looking at him.

  He’s hard, powerful, perfectly honed, and he’s mine.

  He’s got an erection, too.

  I close my eyes and let out a ragged sigh, digging my fingertips into the super-soft sheets. Suddenly, his warm body is curled up against mine.

  When did he move? Lightning-fast. Like a wraith. Yeah, I’m used to it by now.

  He runs his fingers through my damp hair and kisses me on my cheek, my jaw, my neck, sucking my skin, inhaling deeply. “You are too perfect for me,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

  He’s the wolf. I’m the rabbit. He could devour me whole at any time, but he chooses not to. He keeps me safe, takes care of my every need, and his patience is infinite.

  Against his hard-wired instincts, he gives me freedom.

  He parts my robe and circles his finger around the entrance to my pussy, stroking the fine hairs, teasing my sensitive skin. With my eyes closed, my head swimming in the double-soak of alcohol and the heady drug that is his sheer presence, I feel as if I’m floating in the clouds.

  “I want you to teach me to fight,” I blurt.

  “Hm? But what need do you have to fight when you have me, amina?” With slow, deliberate strokes, he touches the base of my sanipod, pushing it further, eliciting a jolt of pure pleasure. I gasp. He’s toying with me, and for once I’m grateful for the nifty little device that’s inside me. The sanipod is flexible and comfortable, molding to my shape, soaking up every last drop of blood. It’s like an infinite well, keeping me perfectly dry.

  “W-well, I’ve married into a warrior tribe, and I’m terribly out of shape. I just thought that… well, in the one-in-a-million chance that I would ever need to protect Ami, I need to be ready. I’m not trying to become an elite killing machine or anything like that. I just want to feel strong again.”

  I take a blind swipe at his chest, slapping him playfully. He is an elite killing machine. My fingers curl over smooth skin and hard muscle. He’s warm. He smells good. I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the slow rise-and-fall of his chest.

  My head spins.

  I’m falling, falling, falling…

  “Then I will teach you to fight,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath feathering my cheek. There’s a hint of approval in his voice. “But only I am allowed to instruct you.”

  “You wouldn’t trust any of the others? Even the First Division guys?”

  “I trust them implicitly, but if you are to learn properly, then it is necessary for me to be tough on you. Things will become rough. I cannot stand the thought of another putting his hands on you in that way. I alone will instruct you, Abbey.” There’s that stubborn note again.

  “That’s…” Fine. I’m actually surprised that he’s agreed so easily. Ever since his nanites almost killed me, he’s been treating me like a delicate flower, trying to wrap me up in cotton wool.

  It’s time to remind him that I’m more resilient than that.

  I sigh as he touches my clit with his thumb. Damn hormones. Damn alcohol. Damn body. I’m hypersensitive again. His touch is magnified tenfold.

  With one hand, he makes slow circles around my clit as he rakes his fingers through my hair and sucks on my earlobe. “I will not go easy on you, wife. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Y-yes.” Somehow, I feel like I’m making a contract with the devil, but it’s a good one. Even if I’m under the influence right now, I’m not going to regret my decision. I’ve been meaning to ask him about this for some time.

  Two years since I nearly died giving birth to Ami. One year since parasitic nano-particles almost ate me up from the inside out. I’ve stared death in the face twice, and both times, Tarak’s pulled me back from the brink.

  This is the life I’ve chosen. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Perfect,” I whisper, falling under his spell yet again as he strokes me in all the right directions, teasing impossible sensations out of my ripe, tired, aching, boneless body.

  I forget about cooped-up days and sleepless nights and the hours I’ve spent worrying, all for nothing.

  I forget about the dark horrors of the Universe.

  My stubborn, sometimes-violent, overprotective control freak of a mate is perfect, and right now, he’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.

  I try to turn, wanting to wrap my arms around him, curl my legs around him, give him what he desires, but my body refuses to listen to my brain. A rising crescendo of pleasure keeps me locked in place.

  He keeps me locked in place.

  “W-what about you?” I squirm, grind, quiver, tremble. Gasp.

  Oh, here it comes.

  I cry out, my voice hoarse and cracked as a thousand waves of sensation come crashing down all at once.

  I’m weightless. I’m flying.

  He curls his fingers around my neck, caresses my jaw, inhales my scent. He’s rock-hard and brimming with dangerous tension. There’s a deep, dark well of energy inside him that I need to quell, but right now, I can’t.

  I’m satisfied, and so, so tired, damn it…

  “You are the only one who can make me torture myself like this,” he says, his immovable arms locking around my waist. “But then, it makes the reward so much sweeter.”

  I’m no longer capable of any kind of coherent thought. Suddenly, the thing that’s inside me comes alive, buzzing gently inside my core.

  A vibrator? He’s taken out the sanipod and put in a vibrator?

  When did he…?

  He chuckles darkly, but his voice is laced with tension. The vibrator kicks up a notch, threatening to drag me toward another climax.

  But it can’t do what he does to me. Not even close.

  I want to have this man’s babies. Ami’s definitely getting a little brother or sister.

  Still, he’s holding back. What the hell is he waiting for?

  “Oh god, Tarak,” I groan, unable to take it any longer. “Just hurry up and fuck me already.”

  “Hmm?” He holds me there just a little bit longer. Is it possible to feel like you’re in heaven and hell at the same time?

  I’m completely helpless, and I’m loving it.

  “What did you say, sweet thing?”

  “A-as if you didn’t hear me the first time,” I rasp.

  “Of course I did. I just want to hear it again.” Now his fingers are inside me, and somehow the vibrator’s gone, and I’m wet and slick and ready, losing myself to the power of his touch.

  “Fuck me, you crazy man.”

  And he does just that.

  20

  Abbey

  I stare at the 3D holo-spin of my head, watching as my hair is transformed right before my very eyes.

  A white shell surrounds me. The autostyler is a cartoonish floating helmet that sits over my hair, cutting it with laser-guided precision. You simply clip it onto your chair, choose a design from the computer sim, then away it goes. I managed to cram it into our luggage at the last minute along with a whole bunch of other stuff.

  Tarak didn’t exactly give me a lot of time to pack.

  Now I understand why. It’s been three days since we arrived, and almost everything I can think of has been provided. Christmas has passed, bringing with it a sumptuous feast and the most amazing company.

  Since then, the house has become a hive of activity, with Kordolians coming and going at all hours of the day. Some of the guests have already left, but we’re stayi
ng a little longer.

  As long as you wish, Abbey. That’s what Tarak said. This place is ours.

  He seems to think we should stay put on Earth for a little while. What’s with the sudden change?

  Snip, snip, snip. The autostyler emits a low hum as it works, clumps of my pale brown hair dropping into the catcher at my feet. After pregnancy, my hair turned a shade lighter.

  It hasn’t changed back yet. I don’t know if it ever will. Go figure. I press a button on the control panel, selecting a darker shade, more chestnut than mousy.

  I’ve never done this before. Never had my hair colored by a machine. Never had it cut this short.

  It’s the only detail I’m changing, but somehow, it feels huge.

  Renewal.

  It’s easy to lose yourself in this world.

  Cutting my hair, shopping trips, homemade food, Christmas parties, greenhouses full of my beloved plants, buying a present for Tarak… These aren’t just trivial things.

  This is me.

  The autostyler emits a gentle puff of warm air, clicks three times, then follows with a cool blast and a whirring sound.

  Styling complete. Do you wish to revise any elements?

  I select no and the machine releases me from its shiny white clutches. I step out of the chair and stare at myself in the mirror, feeling lighter. It’s a damn good cut and color, I have to admit. My hair sits at shoulder length, the rich brown waves shot through with reddish highlights. I run my fingers through it, surprised at how silky it feels.

  On bare feet, I pad across the cold bathroom floor, reveling in my nakedness. The room is blissfully quiet, save for the melodic tones of the astral-synth music that I’m playing through my link.

  Quiet.

  I almost can’t believe it.

  Tarak’s gone up to Silence.

  Arin, Jia, and Mari have taken Ami on a snow-excursion.

 

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