He had the largest feet she’d ever seen. Those boots were also wicked. Heavy-duty material the colour of the sand, laced to his calves. She wondered if they would have hidden sections containing knives, or other weapons. She wouldn’t put it past him.
“Now, concentrate on your calves. Relax your muscles.”
Her gaze ran over his calves and then up his impossibly long, powerful legs. Lean hips. She lingered on the part of him that made him male, her blood inappropriately heating. She couldn’t draw her eyes from him.
His lean abdomen, hard, flat and uncompromising, rose to a broad chest and straight shoulders. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, offering her a delicious view of golden skin tight over leanly muscled, sinewy, corded arms.
His hands were rugged, calloused. Scars crisscrossed the back of his hands. They knew hard, physical work, yet his fingers were long and lean and strong.
His whole body was strong. One honed for the purpose of warfare. There was nothing about his appearance or physique that was soft in any way, yet there was so much vulnerability in him.
The muscle ticked at his jaw. She didn’t know she’d reached to smooth it away until he flinched at her touch. “Relax.”
Her heart jerked in her chest, but he stilled, his breath drawing long and hard into his chest. Now that she was touching him, she couldn’t seem to draw her hand away.
She traced the lines around his eyes, fascinated by how soft his skin was. How warm. So many lines, deep and fine. Marks of experience, of feeling and reaction. “Relax your muscles here.”
She laid her palm on her cheek, running the pad of her thumb over his skin. “And here.”
She traced his bottom lip with her thumb. His skin slid like soft silk beneath her touch, lulling into a hypnotising kind of spell. “Let the tension fall away. You don’t need it. It doesn’t serve you. Shouldn’t rule you.”
His eyes snapped open. Ensnared her. She couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. His arms banded around her, propelling her towards him. She crashed against him, losing her balance, breasts rushed against his chest, hands clutching his shoulders. His lips crashed against hers, consuming her.
And there was nothing she could do, but let him.
Chapter Nine
Her scent invaded his senses. Her taste was ambrosia. The feel of her mouth was exquisite. He couldn’t help himself, and had simply taken what he’d wanted.
He’d tried to concentrate on her relaxation technique, despite her comment about Lyria, but the cabin filled with her sweet, floral scent, and her voice wove through him like pure seduction. It had taken everything he had to remain still and not reach for her.
Until she placed her hands on him. Came closer. Too tempting. Too irresistible. He’d acted on pure instinct and given in to his craving.
He tugged her into his lap. She squeaked in surprise, before he swept the sound away with the brush of his tongue against hers.
She melted into the kiss, her body liquefying over his. The soft weight of her breasts hugged the broad planes of his chest. Soft against hard, she fitted against him like she was born to be there. As though she was made for him and he was made for her. A sense of rightness rocketed through him, staggering him in the realisation.
Yet, how could one tiny human female make him forget about Kieran. About his parents. About everyone else he knew that had perished at the hands of the Reptiles. About this mission, and the promise to himself.
He swept into her mouth one last time, making the most of this one last touch he’d allow himself. Pulling with every ounce of his training and years of control, he broke the kiss, when all he wanted to do was strip her bare and plant himself in her wet warmth.
Her lips shone wet with their kiss, her chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths. Her glazed, heavy-lidded eyes almost undid him.
“Marie… I…” How could he explain away such behaviour? Especially since he’d told her after their last kiss that there would be no more.
She blinked, her eyes focussing. “You kissed me. Again.”
His thumbs played small circles over her clothing. He stopped the movement as soon as he became aware of it. “This… this is a mistake.” Words pushed out of his mouth.
Her frame went rigid, her tone colder. “You also said that—again.”
“Marie… you don’t understand.” How could he explain that this was going to be his last mission? That life had become so unbearable, his yearning to join Keira so great, his heart so dead, that he had promised himself that he wasn’t going to be returning to the Starlight.
Her tiny hands clutched his shirt. “Then tell me.”
The look on her face was almost his undoing, but he wouldn’t burden her. How would she understand that the only way he could ease the guilt of his life was to purposefully offer his death as so many of his family and friends had done?
He went to trace a strand of her hair from her forehead, but stopped himself just in time. “The mission… it must come first.”
He couldn’t allow anything to come between the mission and his personal plans. Only Marie had the power to derail them all, but he had sins to pay for and he couldn’t let that happen.
“The mission… yes… of course…” Her gaze dropped, but not before he saw the hurt and confusion on her face. The damn muscle at his temple ticked with its never-ending tickle.
“The mission must always come first, Marie.”
He knew the exact moment his words struck harder than anything physical could. When she recognised their kiss was the mistake it was. He hated himself for being so harsh, but what was one more black mark on his soul. It was already blackened darker than the night sky. He had to remind himself that he was doing her a favour. Better for her to think he was an arsehole than a male who was never going to give something he didn’t have anymore.
She deserved so much more than that. There would be a worthy male for her. One that wasn’t scarred from endless death and war. One that hadn’t given up on life. He rubbed away the sudden ache in his chest.
She scrambled from his lap. Cool air froze his skin from where she’d sprawled in his lap, wanton and mindless with desire—just the way he wanted her. He gripped the armrests like it was a Reptile’s neck to prevent himself from reaching for her.
Tick, tick, tick. He refused to scratch the muscle at his temple. He schooled his features into the blank mask he’d come to master and hardened his voice. “You know that. I have told you.”
When her eyes found his, there was a hint of anger mixed in with the confusion. That was good. Anger, he could work with. Anger meant distance. He could think with distance. Work with detachment. Sculpt with anger.
“Then why did you kiss me, Alastor?”
He’d not only kissed her once. He’d given into temptation twice. Unforgivable. He wanted her to forget him once she’d return to the Starlight. “Why did you mention that name, Lady Lyria?”
She blinked at the change in topic. He wasn’t going to discuss their kisses, or think about the liquid need in his blood anymore.
“Black Feather brought her. She came with him. He… he told me she was here for you.”
He hated himself even more for what he was going to say to her, but he needed to distance her even more. Needed her to come nowhere near him with that soft look in her eyes, or that sweet, feminine scent of awareness that tempted him so much. If he couldn’t control himself around her, then he’d have to push her away so that she was never close enough to be tempted again.
“You brought back Seriat from being mind-enslaved. I can’t deny that, but I have to draw the line at using the name of someone of such importance when it comes to me. That is an insult.” He stood. The cockpit was too tiny for him to stand up straight, so he had to bend his head to look down at her.
She fumbled blindly behind her, a hand finally gripping the arm of the seat, knuckles white. This wasn’t a normal reaction. She was too responsive. Too emotional. He denied his first impulse to enfold h
er in his arms and bring her to his chest and comfort her. “She only said her name was Lyria. Black Feather didn’t tell me anything more.”
Tick. Tick. Tick. He pushed his way through his every instinct to comfort her. “Then you should know that I’m the most unworthy person to be in her presence. Ask her. Why would she come to a mere soldier like me when no one but the most principled of elders has ever caught a glimpse of her?”
The flush had faded from her face, and it had gone a pasty white. A frown formed on her brow, and he steeled himself against it.
“I can’t… hear anyone. They’ve gone.”
She looked so small and defeated. He forced words that felt like ash from his mouth. “Then maybe you should think a little harder before you tell people what you sense.”
She physically flinched, her expression filled with so much hurt that it tore at his heart, but he’d gladly take the strike to his soul rather than have her suffer in the long run.
There was a noise from the medbay. The female, Seriat, was stirring. Before he could move to tend to her, Marie darted from the tiny cabin. “I’ll go.”
She flew down the small corridor and disappeared into the room, leaving him with a black hole where his heart had been once. He slumped into the chair, brushed his palms over his face, then through his hair. What a mess. Why had things gotten so difficult since Marie had burst, unwelcome, into his life? He’d been happy, living behind his anaesthetised heart. Maybe happy wasn’t the word. It was more like numb. Frozen. Anaesthetised.
It didn’t matter the word, or the exact name of the state of mind. It had served him well, allowed him to function. Allowed him to plan and take this course of action. If Marie wasn’t here, it would be perfect. He could satisfy three things at once. End his meaningless existence, make amends for his mistakes and worthlessness, and end the Reptiles in one swoop.
He needed to keep a clear mind, collect himself, his thoughts and his scattered emotions, hating that he was even feeling them again. He worked to gather the cold that he’d carefully built around his heart, relaxing when his crashing emotions eased into the numbing nothingness the way they always did. The cold was good. He didn’t feel anything with the cold. He could work with the cold.
He could forget the painful memories of his past and how many times he’d failed. He could plan for his death. He would accept the punishment he would receive in the next life.
With a grunt, he shoved his way out of the chair and strode down the corridor. He needed to take his mind off his thoughts and get it back on track, and there was no way a little human female was going to derail him again.
It was for the best.
If he kept on telling himself that, he would start to believe it.
Chapter Ten
Marie shot into the small room to see Seriat struggling with the sheet she’d put over her. “Hey, lie back down. Don’t harm yourself.”
Seriat uttered a startled cry and gripped the material to her chest, looking wildly about as she sat up. She appeared half terrified out of her mind. “Where… am I?” Her voice was dry and rusty from lack of use.
“You’re on our shuttle. We had to bring you here for medical attention. You were… close to dying. Would you like something to drink?” Marie spoke in a soothing voice, trying to emanate calm.
She poured a glass of water and held to the woman. Seriat reached out a tentative hand and slowly and carefully took the offering. She sipped the water and her face opened in relief, before she gulped down the rest of the glass.
“Seriat, do you remember what happened?”
Seriat slumped against the wall. In fact, it looked as though she needed the wall to keep her upright. Marie’s heart bled for the poor woman. She’d had a little taste of what the Reptiles were capable of, but Seriat had suffered terribly.
“You… saved me. I was trapped for so long. I couldn’t find my way out.” Seriat’s eyes brimmed and fat tears trailed down her cheeks.
“Oh, Seriat.” Marie held the woman’s hands. Images assaulted her frightening and disjointed. Faces half in and half out of deep shadows. Silent screams. Pain. There was a keening sound she vaguely recognised as her own. It was all too much. Too much. Too much pain. Too much confusion. A hand on her shoulder pulled her back before she stepped over an edge she didn’t want to go anywhere near.
Alastor’s scent wrapped around her. A spicy, masculine scent that obliterated the scenes of terror. She panted, dragging heavy breaths into her lungs. Centre. Focus.
She looked up into his immovable expression. Anyone might look at him and think he felt nothing, but she knew where to look. How to look, and there was a tsunami of a war raging in his mind. Nobody who kissed like that felt nothing. He was just very good at making people think he didn’t feel anything at all. He was also very good at pushing people away. She certainly hadn’t been left unaffected by his kiss. In fact, she’d never quite known kisses could be like that.
“My babies! Where are they?”
Seriat crumpled into Marie’s arms. Marie took a steeling breath and protected herself, mind, body and soul, with white light. Thankfully no more horrifying images bombarded her mind, but Seriat’s sobbing was just as heart-wrenching.
Marie’s heart bled. It was gut-wrenching enough when a child passed. Marie had seen and felt so much grief over her time, but not to know what happened to your child was even worse. Cruel.
She’d helped numerous people over the years. Well, she thought she had been helping, until that day… her gut warped and twisted, tightening and threatening to bring up what little she’d eaten.
She had to focus. Help Seriat. This situation was vastly different than that day. She took a fortifying breath, ignored her roiling gut and said something she hadn’t for months, “Would you like me to see if I can find out where your family is?”
Seriat blinked through watery eyes, hope a dangerous light in her eyes. “You can do that?”
“I can try.” Hopefully, Black Feather would be listening. “Let’s sit down and I can concentrate.”
Alastor loomed in the doorway as she settled next to Seriat’s too-thin body on the little cot and took a deep, steeling breath. The memories threatened to invade, and through sheer force of will, she set them aside. “Seriat, I need to you concentrate. Close your eyes and think about your husband. Your children.”
Seriat nodded, and a single tear squeezed from the corner of her eye. Marie ignored the doubt that settled alongside the nerves, closed her eyes and let down her walls. This was nothing like that day that not even she could have predicted. Not even close. She had to remember that. Slowly, she let her protection drop.
A barrage of Seriat’s emotions hit. Black swirls of despair, confusion as well as never-ending love for her children. Marie fought to keep her concentration. “Seriat, picture your baby boy. Think about his face. How much you love him.”
“Can you see him?” Seriat asked in a quiet voice.
Seriat’s hands trembled, but an image formed in Marie’s mind of a beautiful little baby boy with pale-yellow skin and sunshine hair. It was strange how she received the images so quickly and so clearly. She didn’t think it had anything to do with her skills. It had to be this planet and the special people who lived here. The little baby’s aura burned bright, but her stomach plummeted when she realised he had passed from this world.
She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to say anything. Not just yet.
“Yes. He’s very beautiful, Seriat. Like a little angel. Now, picture your husband in your mind.”
The laughing face of a man formed in her mind. Tall, gangly, fit and happy. He had darker-yellow skin that seemed to glow with health and vitality. His deep purple aura had wisps of white. He held the baby to his chest. Marie swallowed back a lump in her throat. He had also passed. He stepped into Marie’s energy field. “Please tell Seriat we love her, but she cannot give up. She must not.”
“Can you see Tellox? Do you know where
he is?”
There were times when she hated her skills. Times when she yearned to be blissfully ignorant. Her life would have been much easier if she hadn’t known anything at all. Just been like everyone else on the planet, concerned with their lives, and their careers, and their families. She often wondered why she’d had these skills. Why she’d chosen to develop them.
At one stage, she’d carefully nurtured them. If she could go back in time, she would have stopped herself from developing anything at all. She would have been happy. Content.
She felt the brush of phantom feathers across her cheek. My child, you would not have, and you know this. Tell her. She needs to know. She is stronger than you think.
Marie gritted her teeth, hating what she had to say, but knowing it was inevitable. “I’m so sorry, Seriat. They… have passed.” Marie tried to be as gentle as she could, but really, how gentle could you be when you told someone their loved ones had passed.
Seriat broke down. ‘Why did they have to die?”
Tension streamed from the doorway. Not actually from the doorway. It distinctly came from Alastor. Rolling off him with such strong waves that she found it hard to keep her mind as clear. He folded his arms in front of himself tighter than a clamp.
“To Spirit, the death of a body means that the soul returns to its true home. They rejoin their friends, family, their guides who have helped them through life. They rejoice, just as we rejoice when a baby is born into this plane of existence.” She knew it would never take away the pain and suffering of death, but she also knew that the soul did not die with the release of its body. It merely moved into another dimension.
“It’s not fair. I want my husband. My baby. I want my life with them.” Seriat sobbed harder.
Marie offered the only comfort she could. “I don’t understand why we need to suffer the trauma of grief and death in this life. Or why it needs to happen at all. I can only tell you that Tellox is looking after Johan. They know your grief, but you have to understand that your husband and baby aren’t dead. Not really. They still exist. We just can’t see them with these eyes.”
Alastor: Sci-Fi Alien Romance (A Hexonian Alien Romance Book 3) Page 6
