Asylum Mine

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Asylum Mine Page 2

by Viola Grace


  The treaty had been shattered and the clones destroyed, or so she thought. This man was proof that history could have omissions.

  He was working at a pipe and cursed luridly.

  She moved behind him and asked, “Can I help?”

  He dropped his tool and whirled to face her before darting for the cover of a tree.

  She couldn’t help but feel a little rejected. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He peeked around the tree, meeting her gaze.

  She stifled a gasp, he was beautiful, the vines twisting across his skin to give him a fierce expression, but it also highlighted deep blue eyes framed with thick dark lashes and lips that were just wide enough to make her want them on her skin.

  She blinked. “You healed me.”

  He nodded cautiously. “I did.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the gift of my life.” She bowed low and remained down for long enough for him to know that she was not just sticking to the formalities.

  She looked at his abandoned project and the tools. She grabbed the wrench an assessed what he was doing. “Is it a clogged line?”

  He came out from behind the tree. “Yes. The filter is jammed and I can’t dislodge it.”

  Seeri grinned and swung the wrench in three short arcs. When the third impact popped the filter loose, her companion laughed in surprise.

  “You seem to know a few tricks.” He was grudging as he took the filter and swapped it out for a new one.

  “I do. Most of the breeder stations have technology like this. I was raised there until I was fourteen and could enter service.” She sat back and smiled, looking around and at her host.

  “You aren’t afraid of me.” He said it like it was a strange thing.

  “Of course not. I have coughed up scarier stuff than you.” She grinned at him. His features were really quite pleasing this close and the sheen on his skin was giving off an intriguing musk that she was finding hard to ignore.

  She put the wrench back and got to her feet. “I am sorry to have disturbed you. I should be going.”

  He was quiet for a moment as if he wanted to let her go and then a soft word came from his throat. “Stay.”

  “Do you have more repairs to make? I am fairly dexterous.”

  A light flushed mantled his cheeks. His nostrils flared and he smiled. “Yes, there are a few more filters to changed. They always give me trouble, so I would appreciate your help.”

  She nodded and waited for him to retrieve his tools. At a tap from his fingers, the juncture that they were working on sank beneath the soil.

  He led her to the next unit and knelt to bring it to the surface.

  “What is your name?” She blurted it out so she wouldn’t spend her time staring at his broad shoulders and the firm flex of his buttocks.

  “Alpha Tor.”

  “So, you were the first of your set?”

  “I was the first. They refused to destroy me, so my creators sent me here and reported me dead. My body contains the last strands of DNA for three species and nine others who are in the Coalition.”

  “So, do I call you Alpha or Tor?”

  “Tor. May I call you Seerian?”

  “Seeri, please.” She smiled again and he smiled back. Together they began to work through the repairs to the irrigation system.

  They worked with only a few comments between them and when he pronounced them done, she was disappointed. “I suppose I should get back to my room and rest again.”

  He chuckled. “My room.”

  “What?”

  “You are in my bedroom. None of the other chambers on the station are equipped for guests.”

  “Oh. If there is a cot in storage, I could sleep on that. My life is luxury enough.”

  “No. I will not hear of it. You are my guest, I will have the bots prepare something for me.” He helped her to her feet and she admired not only his presence but the detail in the designs on his flesh.

  He flushed and looked embarrassed. “You are staring.”

  She met his gaze. “Only at the beauty of your skin.”

  “The colours were grafted on when I was a child. The process was…painful.” He stiffened.

  Remorse flooded her. “I am sorry. I thought the design was born with you.”

  “No. Splices are born with the mixed DNA, but they look like others of the races that donated to the project. They decided that simply saying our DNA was a complete mix wasn’t good enough. They needed a visual aid.”

  She swallowed. “That’s horrible.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is. Now, go back to your room and get some of that grease off the end of your nose.”

  Seeri laughed and curtsied to him, wobbling a little.

  He scowled. “I should not have let you get this exhausted. Come with me.”

  She took the arm he extended and let him support her to the entrance where Baxter was waiting. “Accompany us to my quarters.”

  The bot chirped in compliance and followed them back to the bedroom. Tor helped her to the shower and turned away before she loosened her gown. With his back to her, he asked, “Will you join me for dinner?”

  She smiled and loosened her clothing. “Of course. How long do I have?”

  “Three hours. Enough time for you to sleep off the pallor that your exertions have caused.” He left her in front of the shower and Baxter wheeled in to take his place. Seeri chuckled as she looked in the mirror. Her nose wasn’t the only part of her sporting grease and smudges.

  “Back into the shower, mistress. I will be here if you need me.”

  With his promise of support if she needed it, she hopped back under the spray and scrubbed off the marks of her labour.

  When she was clean, Baxter held out a towel and she wrapped it around herself while returning to the bedroom. The bed had been remade and she turned the covers down. “Wake me half an hour before Tor will be here for dinner.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  She dropped the bathing sheet over a chair and slid between the sheets. The cool crisp fabric on her flesh was lovely and she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

  * * * *

  Alpha Tor crept into the room the instant that the bot told him she was asleep. Her smile made him blink. Arousal spread through his system in a fiery rush that hardened his flesh and sent tingles through his spine.

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, breathing some of his life into her. She needed every bit of energy he could spare. Her pallor had been frightening. He knew what colour she was supposed to be and it wasn’t that shade of grey.

  The softness of her lips made him groan softly. She stirred and he quickly stopped the transfer of life force.

  With his guest asleep, he left to check the data streams that were still being relayed through his home. Her ship had fared well until the Northern Star had made it to a Coalition station. Commander Darkour had arrested her entire crew and was holding them on the charges of gross mutiny. They were being accused of killing their Battle Commander and disposing of the body.

  With Seeri sleeping in his bed, he knew that her crew was being handed a death sentence for a false report.

  He was going to have to consider what to do with that information. Even though she had only been on his station for hours, Seeri had found a place in his heart. Her honest acceptance of what he was caused his heart to trip in his chest.

  How would she feel if he told her about the status of her crew?

  * * * *

  Seeri was in a more daringly cut purple dress this time. Baxter’s nimble digits made short work of the laces that held everything in place.

  “Who is making these?”

  “Alpha Tor brought some domestic bots out of storage. They created a wardrobe for you. Unfortunately, we only have the one colour of fabric available.”

  She laughed. “It is fine. I like purple.”

  She twirled a little and she was mid-spin when Tor entered the room. Bots scurried in behind him laden wit
h trays and dishes.

  Blushing, she stopped and bowed to Tor as he came forward with a gleam in his eyes. “Please excuse me, I don’t get much of a chance to wear skirts.”

  He grinned and it looked really good on him. “I can tell. Don’t worry about it, it is nice to see someone in a good mood around here.”

  “I suppose Baxter isn’t much of a conversationalist.”

  He chuckled. “No. He isn’t.”

  The bots had set the table in a flurry of action. One stood and rang a delicate chime.

  Tor extended his hand to her and led her to the table. “Dinner is served.”

  Chuckling she sat across from him and opened her napkin, placing it across her lap. Baxter wheeled up and lifted the covers from the food.

  “Wow, I have not seen this much fruit and vegetable in a while.”

  “We grow our own.” He chuckled. “As you saw when we were fixing the irrigation system.”

  “Indeed. Thanks for mentioning the grease on my nose, you could have mentioned the streaks on my forehead and chin.” She took a small bite and closed her eyes in pleasure. It had been so long since she had eaten fresh food.

  When she opened her eyes, Tor was staring at her with a peculiar hunger. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, Tor, I just don’t get access to fresh food very often. I am savouring the experience.”

  He nodded. “I understand. Life in space is always more difficult than most people imagine. The niceties of polite society are few and far between for those who live in the stars.”

  She met his thoughtful gaze in surprise and knew that he understood better than she could even imagine. “How long have you been alone here?”

  “Since the purge. Twenty-five years.” He forked up some salad and consumed it.

  “May I ask you, why? Why did they purge the splices?”

  The history books had one version of what transpired, but she wanted the truth. History had specified that they were dumb abominations, reminders of failed treaties and dead races.

  “When I was a child, we were marked, as I have told you. The two dozen splices were raised with etiquette training, dance, negotiation skills and battle training. Everything that an ambassador needed. It came down to property rights of Decarro.”

  He finished his salad and served her some of the main course before continuing his story. “The Decarro were a race with enhanced psychic talents, but they were dying out. In a great moment of unity, the entire species expired, leaving their fertile and mineral rich planet unprotected.”

  Seeri was eating while she listened to his tale. The story was gripping because she had never heard it before.

  “I was away from the splice base between assignments when I got the news. I tried to return to the lab, but my makers sent me here. The Decarro had one set of heirs. Their genes lived on in the splices. We were the sole heirs to that world and three others that have been denuded of life since. The others were all on the base when it was blown. The creators, support staff, administrators, everyone involved in the splice projects were killed to allow the claiming of that world by a mining conglomerate.”

  Stunned, Seeri couldn’t help but ask, “How could they get away with it?”

  “You know the general opinion of splices, do you not?”

  She sighed. “I do. Most wanted you dead before you were even created.”

  He smiled and kept eating. “Precisely. So, I am here and my long training is going to waste.”

  She laughed. “Well, in this dress I can’t help you with battle exercise, but if you could teach me to dance, it would be nice. I went right from my home to the recruitment centre. Dance was not taught on the breeder base, but I have seen it in vids and it looks beautiful.”

  “I will have to teach you then. It is a simple thing that can be made more so with the correct partner.”

  Seeri laughed at the look in his eyes. “It is a good thing you are a healer then. We might both need it before the night is over.”

  He joined in the laughter and they turned the discussion to the irrigation system.

  The music was coming from the centre of Baxter’s chest. He was positioned discreetly against the wall and seemed not to be aware of Tor taking her into his arms.

  The touch of his skin sent a jolt through her as his arm pressed against the delicate ties holding her dress together. They didn’t say a word as he started to sway with her and soon he was steering her in lazy loops around the room. She was completely oblivious to their path, the touch of his thighs against hers with his arms around her held her attention firmly on her body’s reaction to the contact.

  Her skin heated, flushed and a spike of arousal washed through her. The motion of her thighs together as they moved made her aware of the slick heat she was generating.

  She kept her gaze focussed on his collarbone, afraid to meet his gaze. Her hands were trembling, one on his bicep, the other in his grip.

  He paused in the dance. “Is something wrong, Seeri? You are trembling.”

  She looked up into his face and put a tight smile on her lips. “Nothing is wrong. I am just feeling a little flushed.”

  His nostrils flared, followed by a slow dilation of his pupils. With a deliberate move, he bent his head toward her, leisurely enough to give her an opportunity to back away. She ran through a thousand possibilities in that instant and welcomed his lips when they touched hers.

  Heat, energy, power, longing, they all combined in that kiss in and she welcomed it. So much time alone in space and here, she had a chance for contact. On her ship, her rank kept her separate, on this station, with this man there was no reason to hold back.

  She threaded her hands through his hair and went up on her toes to deepen the kiss. Tor’s harsh groan echoed in the room and she smiled against him.

  She teased the seam of his lips with her tongue until he parted for her, then delved in to taste him, the sweetness of dessert still lingered in his mouth.

  A low hum started to run through him and as he returned her kiss with intensity, it spilled into her until her blood was singing to the same tune.

  The strings that held her dress in place were loosened one by one. Tor’s hands moved the fabric off her shoulders and it pooled at her feet.

  Naked, trembling and eager, she waited for him to strip as well. He barked a command in a strange language and the lights dimmed to almost nothing.

  She sighed. “I want to see you.” Following the sound of his rustling clothing, she touched him, his chest bare and warm under her touch.

  “I don’t wish to disgust you with my colouration.”

  She flicked his nipples lightly with her fingers before sliding her arms around his chest and pressing her head to him, listening to his heavy heartbeat. “I want you, as you are. You have not recoiled at my scars and I will return the favour. That is all they are, scars. Marks of your past. Live with them and try to think of the future.”

  His whisper was in that strange language again, the lights turned up halfway throwing his features into diabolical relief.

  He didn’t speak, but he let his vest slide to the ground. Tor put his hands on her shoulders and moved her away from him as he removed his shoes and trousers. She would have gasped if he wouldn’t have taken it the wrong way.

  Impressive was not the word to describe him. Each band of muscle, each delineation of sinew was a piece of art. He had been designed with attention to male perfection and then ornamented with the designs of races alive and dead. Past and future lived on his skin.

  Sighing softly, she stepped forward and pressed a light string of kisses across the base of his throat. She felt his hands close on her waist tightly before they relaxed and he started to stroke her back. His fingers found every wound, every scar that she sported from a life lived under fire.

  She shivered in reaction to his gentle caress and pressed her forehead against his chest.

  His words whispered to her in the dimness. “I am not the only one with marks, but it seems I am the only on
e who hides from them.”

  Seeri spoke quietly, “My life was hard, but I survived. Nothing else matters but moving forward with seeking acceptance and pleasure when the opportunity arises.”

  Tor laughed again, a low ripple of sound. “Then I should try to seize what has come my way and let tomorrow sort itself out.”

  She smiled against his skin. “Seize away.”

  A second invitation was not required, he backed her toward the bed and tumbled her to her back. He overlapped her on every angle, and with a peculiar kind of push-up move, he stroked his flesh against hers.

  She parted her thighs and when his erection nudged her folds, Seeri tilted her hips in welcome. The blunt heat lodged in her opening and pressed slowly into her as his torso did another of those intriguing slides, stimulating her breasts and starting an ache low in her belly.

  Parts of his skin started to glow as he stroked against her again. Seeri’s soft cry was one of delight, followed by an inhalation as his wide erection made space for itself inside her.

  The glow was a bright blue light that spread from certain portions of his skin across the mass, only the scrolling dividers marking the change in tones. He withdrew slowly and she bit her lip.

  “Please, I want to hear you.”

  She let her breath come out on a soft sigh which increased in pitch when he rocked into her again, shifting her on the sheets.

  She anchored her feet on the bedding for leverage and met his thrusts with raised hips and upward shifts of her own. Her sighs turned to moans, the moans to cries as each slide of his cock within her took a faster and faster beat in and out of her.

  His breathing was coming faster and Tor leaned down to press kisses against her forehead and temples while his angle of entry now changed to press her clit with every shift of his hips.

  She wrapped her arms around him, holding her tightly against her as their bodies slipped and slid, fire started to slide along her nerves and her voice took on a fevered pitch.

 

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