by Mills, Shae
Chelan’s hand immediately went to his steel-hard buttocks, pressing him down into her. “Oh, Fremma, I want you so deep inside of me,” she uttered, and he responded instantly, shifting his weight for maximum penetration.
Chelan rose to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts, but then he stopped. Rising up quickly, he lifted her hips off the bed as he knelt before her. Chelan looked at him, his massive arms holding her firmly as though she were weightless. Again he began his entries, his organ rubbing her internal center of delight, and Chelan immediately arched, lost in wondrous abandonment.
Fremma watched her every motion, a wave of happiness consuming him for the pleasure he was finally able to give to her. Quickly, he brought her to her peak, her outcry sending a lance through his own loins, and he came.
He fell forward onto her as they were both immersed in harmonious spasms of joy. Then Fremma rolled from her, afraid of crushing her with his weight, but Chelan clung to him, rolling with him as he moved to his back.
Suddenly, Chelan was devoured by an outpouring of emotion that shocked them both. She pressed herself tightly to him. “Oh, Fremma,” she cried. “Oh, my gentle Fremma, I love you so much.”
Fremma clutched her close, stroking her hair and face as he struggled with his own emotions, a strange combination of undying love and adoration coupled with a deep and all-consuming grief. “Oh, Chelan, I, too, love you so much.”
Fremma nuzzled under her hair to her slender neck and sought to dilute his troublesome, conflicted emotions by drowning himself in his sexual desire. He needed their physical bonding above all else. He rolled to his side and faced her, kissing her mouth firmly. His hand traced up her silky thigh as he raised her leg and placed it high over his waist. Without hesitation, he tilted his pelvis forward, and drove upward, penetrating her soft flesh again with unhindered ease. “Cover me with dreams,” he whispered, and he kissed her hard. Then he surged into her and through her, possessing every part of her with an abandon and a need so primal that he felt he could detonate at any moment. And he did not let up, their consummation of love occurring again and again. And it did not end until evening, when both were too exhausted to move.
Chelan lay across his body, her fingers playing lightly over his chest. His rhythmic breathing began tranquilizing her into drowsiness, and she was nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his strong heartbeat.
But Fremma’s mind was far from idle as he sifted through the options open to him in a bid to keep his fair Lady by his side, his throat constricting at the meager outlook.
He did not know what Korba’s full intentions for Chelan were, but Fremma knew that for an Imperial Warlord to officially Let an alien was beyond the realm of possibility. He even doubted if Ticees would allow it much less condone it. And if Korba defied all, he would put her directly in the sights of the Breeders. Fremma hoped with all his being that the Warlord would never take that risk.
It was now clear that he had Chelan as a lover, but he wanted more, so much more. He wanted her heart forever. He needed some sort of assurance that he would not lose her over the coming years, and that dream depended on the values that Chelan chose to hold true to her heart. Fremma knew that with time she could bond to Korba exclusively, and deep inside he felt that outcome was assured if she ever agreed to bear Korba’s child. Since there was no Let to challenge, that would tear her from him permanently, for he felt within his soul that Chelan would never bear the child of more than one man. It was not that Fremma had an all-consuming desire for Chelan to have his child. It was the fact that he knew that she would remain exclusively bonded to the man who fathered her child, and if that man was Korba, Fremma could lose her as a lover, and as so much more. That realization unleashed a storm within him that threatened to crush all that he was.
Fremma momentarily closed his eyes against his throbbing heart. He had to know the true situation now, for the uncertainty was killing him. He looked down at her powdery white body, and his muscles knotted. “Chelan,” he called softly.
“Hmm,” she responded dreamily, pressing into him.
Fremma felt his resolve about to falter, but he had to speak. “Chelan, do you know about the Let?”
Chelan’s eyes shot open, and every muscle in her body stiffened. “Yes,” she replied warily. She clenched her jaw.
Fremma held her tightly. “Do you know about the Letting ceremony?”
Chelan held her breath. She nodded her head slowly, staying pressed into him, unable to look into his eyes. She was not sure why, but her very soul was riddled with dread.
Fremma reached for her and raised her face to his.
Chelan saw the pain and the determination set in his eyes, and her heart sank.
“Chelan,” he breathed. “Will you be Letted to me?”
Chelan immediately recoiled and lurched away from him almost violently. Her sudden motion startled him, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
“No,” she whispered. “No,” she repeated louder. “Don’t ever ask that of me, Fremma.” Korba’s warning about not telling anyone of their commitment stilled her tongue. She raised her trembling hands to her lips when she witnessed the rejection register on his face. Then she was hit by another revelation, this one spawning deep-seated sorrow.
“No,” she beseeched mournfully as she reached for his face. “No, Fremma. It is not that I turn you down. Don’t ever think that.” Her hands went to his shoulders and her nails dug forcefully into his flesh. “I love you, Fremma. You are the harmony in my soul, and I could never live without you.”
Chelan struggled for words, her thoughts disseminating, her helplessness and confusion mounting. “Fremma, if I agreed to the Let with you”—she looked at him through tear-threatened eyes—”Korba would kill you.”
Fremma shook his head as his hands cupped her trembling jaw. “Chelan, I want you by my side always. I would never leave you. I would quit the Imperial service.”
“No,” she groaned in agony. “You don’t understand. He would challenge you.”
Fremma shook his head again. “That’s a chance I would take, Chelan. And if he did, I would gladly die by his hand if it would afford me the time with you alone, even for a short while.”
Chelan’s jaw dropped as her sense of panic rose. She shook her head slowly as she attempted to swim through the mire of anarchy that closed in on her. “Is that what you want, a monogamous relationship with me? You know that’s not going to happen.”
“If you bind with me, you will never be left alone.”
“No!” she shouted, pulling away from him, her face suddenly white with fear. “Fremma, you are not going to lose me. And, god, I could never fathom losing you. Listen to me. We would not even get to the ceremony. You don’t understand the situation between Korba and me.”
Fremma reached for her. “Then enlighten me, Chelan. Tell me how to keep you by my side.”
“What makes you think I will leave you? I don’t understand where this is coming from. Look at what has happened today. Do you think I made love to you lightly, just for a one-day fling?”
“I would never think that. I know you too well. But I fear for the future.”
Chelan shook her head at him grimly. “I still don’t understand. There is no reason to Let me. There is no reason for confrontation. Why would you wish to force one?”
“I don’t want to force one. I simply want an enduring commitment, one that will last throughout the years, one that will endure our separations, the Empire’s battles, and anything you promise to Korba.”
But Chelan was beside herself with anxiety. She felt like her world had just capsized and she was sinking. Then her emotions hardened and her thoughts cleared. She looked at him defiantly, her voice almost scathing. “You have my word, and that should be enough. If either of you challenges the other for any reason,” she hissed, “you will both lose, for I would take my own life willingly before I would watch either of you die over me by the other’s hand!”
F
remma’s eyes grew wide. “Chelan,” he gasped.
“No!” she shouted vehemently. “Fremma, I need you. I want you, and you must be there for me on Iceanea when Korba is not, and even when he is. You know that my heart goes to him first, but I may share myself with you out of love also; that is your people’s way. You will not lose me, Fremma. There is no reason for the Let. Please. It would only force unnecessary combat. And we would all lose. There would be no winners from such a fray.”
Fremma grabbed her roughly by the arms, his mind reeling as he fought for words, his thoughts lost in a jumble of emotions. Risking all, he held her stock-still, his eyes piercing her. “But I want you to have my child, Chelan.”
Chelan felt her body sag in defeat. All her bravado disappeared in an instant. “I can’t have your child, Fremma,” she whimpered. He released her, and she hugged herself desperately. She began rocking herself in an effort to soothe her battered spirits. “I’m sorry, Fremma.” she choked. “Please don’t abandon me. Please accept that we will always be the deepest of friends and that I will always be your willing lover. Please, Fremma. You know I will always be true to my word, to my heart, and to you.”
Fremma finally shook himself from the devastating downward spiral his thoughts were taking. He drew in a deep breath, called on his Imperial training, and banked the violence that threatened to unleash. Finally, his common sense rallied. He commanded his muscles to relax. Maybe it was possible that she would stay with him regardless of her relationship with Korba. For the time, it seemed that was all that was open to him. He reached for her and rubbed his powerful hands down her arms and took her small hands within his. “I will not pressure you, Chelan. It’s just that I couldn’t stand to lose you.” He looked deep into her eyes. “You are the potion that binds me to life.”
Chelan’s heart melted.
He held her hands firmly, his thumbs caressing her satin skin. “I will not challenge Korba, no matter what you two decide,” he conceded. He saw her take several deep breaths, and the tension in her features abated. He pulled her to him and held her tight, her slender body limp from emotional exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Chelan, I shouldn’t have asked so much of you.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just that you don’t seem to understand something very important. I will never leave you, Fremma. No matter what happens between Korba and me. You are far too important to me, and I love you too deeply. But if I agree to the Let with you, then you are instantly and permanently lost to me.” She looked up at him. “If things had been different, if Korba had not returned …” She stared deeply into his loving eyes. “I would have Letted you any time. I say that with all my heart, Fremma. Please believe me.”
Fremma lay back against the pillows, taking her with him. He felt her trembling in his arms, and he looked down at the porcelain beauty wrapped about him, everything about her eliciting all his protectiveness and heightening his senses. His emotional burden finally lightened at hearing her sincerity and knowing her words were genuine. And he realized that it was better to have her some of the time than to live a life without any of her, or to die trying to force her to be his. “I’m yours,” he whispered, “whenever you desire me … forever.”
Chelan kissed his familiar lips. “I desire you always,” she breathed, and she slipped out of his arms and down his body.
Fremma moaned and released himself to her, tentatively hopeful about the future. Their lovemaking continued into the night as Fremma took her again and again, his appetite as insatiable as her own, until finally they were forced to sleep, the light of dawn upon their moist bodies.
*****
The hour of the Koll was looming, and with it would come Korba’s momentous announcement, the shockwave from which would surge throughout the Empire.
Chapter 4
Korba had indeed been busy all day and night, but not totally with the Koll. The final details of the Earth mission had been worked through and the last-minute equipment checks made. In the late evening, three fighters were dispatched, and Korba watched them leave, a gleam in his eye and a weight lifted from his heart.
Chelan’s childhood rape would not go untried, and the man responsible would not go unscathed. Unknown to the primitives of Earth, one among them had brought upon himself the wrath of the galaxy’s Overlord. The man’s death would be swift, with no clues, no suspects, and no known motives. His body would remain where it fell, his throat cleanly slit. The investigators of Earth would be forever plagued with yet another unsolvable homicide. Korba smiled to himself. No one harmed his woman, and any who tried would meet a swift and merciless death.
In the morning, Korba slipped through his private security doors and into his hidden blue room. There he donned his dress uniform for the Koll and completed other final preparations. He had thought of going to his Lady, who was probably still asleep. But his sixth sense told him to avoid his chambers. He felt that not knowing if she was there for sure was better than the searing pain that would tear through his chest if he found her absent.
Korba had met Fremma working out in the main training area the morning before, and Korba knew that the warrior was now capable of taking Chelan up on her offer. Cautiously, and prudently, he decided to avoid any unnecessary confrontations by leaving immediately and overseeing the final arrangements pertaining to the Koll.
Dar, on the other hand, had arrived in the early evening to finish up the final security checks and to brief and prepare the extra men under Lazen’s command who would accompany Chelan upon her presentation. He had spent the morning hours in the Command Center and had noticed Chelan’s conspicuous absence. He wondered about Korba’s frame of mind in regards to Chelan and Fremma, but decided not to ask. Besides, he was having enough trouble dealing with his own feelings pertaining to the beautiful alien.
The fact that Chelan had likely been with Fremma throughout the night in an intimate manner didn’t bother him in the least. After all, if worse came to worst, Fremma was expendable, but Korba was not. Dar shook himself free of such treacherous thoughts and resumed his work, attacking it with a vengeance.
Then he stopped. He took a deep breath. What was he thinking? Chelan was not Iceanean and Korba would not, and could not, Let an alien. And even if Korba decided to defy all, that would put Chelan in mortal danger from the Guild, and Korba would not risk that. Clearing his mind, he realized there were no actual problems, so why conjure them? And with that, Dar pursued the remainder of his tasks with his mind and heart at ease.
*****
Chelan, however, awoke to a fright as Fremma loomed over her, fully dressed and heavily armed. “Come on, pretty woman. Korba begins his address to the Koll soon, and you still have work to do on your gown.”
Chelan rubbed her sleepy eyes and rose slowly, her body still coated with the products of their love. She shuffled to the edge of the bed, wincing, her muscles aching from their night-long marathon.
Fremma smiled at her stiffness. “Sore but satisfied, I see,” he chuckled. “Come along. A nice shower will work that out. It did for me.”
Chelan smiled up at him, blushing as she took his offered hand. He ushered her into the shower, and she was pleasantly soothed by its warmth.
Fremma leaned on the vanity and watched her languish in the streams of temperate water. “About the Koll,” he began. “I believe Korba told you about the number of people who will be attending, so I hope that will not be a shock?”
Chelan turned to him and smiled wryly. “Are you serious? Oh no, I will have no difficulty at all stepping out in front of seven hundred thousand critical, questioning, gawking Iceanean warriors. And, as a complete surprise to each and every one of them, a few select people aside.”
Fremma lowered his head and grinned. He had to admit she had a point. “Well, anyway,” he continued, “Korba will have told the assembly that he has an important guest attending him and that they should rise for your entry. They will already be aware that someone of great importance is to be expected
simply by observing the number of empty seats next to him at the table.”
Chelan’s eyes remained fixed to Fremma as she washed herself slowly.
He continued. “Next to Korba, to his left will be three seats, one for you right next to him, one for Dar, and one for me. Normally when two Warlords participate in a mission they are seated together with the chief security commander of the hosting ship next to the quest Warlord. So, two seats are expected at this Koll. The third is not.
“When it is time, Dar will lead you in. He will be approximately three meters in front of you, and his job on this particular occasion will be to look for trouble, which we don’t expect.”
Fremma waited until Chelan nodded. He smiled reassuringly at her and then continued. “You will enter, flanked directly by Lazen and Yanis. They will be visibly and heavily armed. The visibility of the weapons will serve as an indication of your importance and status. Most guests ushered into any function where Warlords are present are done so with guards discreetly armed.”
Chelan took a deep, wavering breath as nervousness once again began to seep in. She put the cleansing bar down and stepped from the shower. Though the effects of the bar left her totally dry, Fremma immediately encased her in a large towel for warmth.
“Once you are through the doors, under Lazen’s control a large security contingent of my men will fan out and walk the perimeters of the hall and along behind you. But there is no reason for alarm.”
Chelan’s big brown eyes looked up at him questioningly, and Fremma smiled, his voice soft. “And I will be right behind you, my Lady, the whole way.”
Chelan smiled at last. Then she pressed into him, seeking his strength and reassurance. His arms surrounded her lovingly, and they lingered together, never wanting to part.
“I can’t tell you how much the past day has meant to me, Chelan. I will cherish the moments and the feelings a lifetime.”
Chelan looked up at him, her heart swelling. “As will I. But there will be plenty more days like that, my dear Fremma. Many more.” Their lips met in mutual caress, both feeling a need to come together, yet both knowing that now was not the time.
