by Delia Roan
Jenna shook as he sat her on the edge of the bed. He strode to the window, closing and bolting the shutters. He dragged a dresser in front of the door, more to appease Jenna than to provide real security.
“Are we safe here?” Jenna’s voice shook.
“Yes,” he said, praying he spoke true. “Nobody will find us here.”
The doubt on her face was clear to read. She clutched her hands in front of her; her fingers slick with blood rolled over each other. She seemed mesmerized by the sight of the dark liquid on her skin.
He knelt, and took her hands gently in his. “I will kill anyone who tries to harm you.”
She shuddered and closed her eyes. Her breathing eased. “Thank you, Kovos. Thank you for killing… those… things.”
He rubbed her fingers. “You are welcome, moonsong.”
Jenna opened her eyes. “No, you don’t understand. Thank you for saving me, and also thank you for killing them. For making them… not alive.” She let out a shaky laugh. “That makes me a horrible person, I know.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t make you horrible. A thirst for retribution and revenge is not unexpected after surviving horrors.”
Jenna sniffed. She raised a hand to brush away a tear, but jerked her hand away when it reached her face. “I-I stink! I stink like… them!” She scrubbed her hand on her gown, ignoring the sharp lumi that tore into her skin.
“Stop!” Kovos seized her hand. “You will hurt yourself.”
“I stink!”
“Shhh. We will fix it, moonsong.”
He scooped her up and carried her to the bathing chamber. The room was clean and a diligent servant had stocked it with bath sheets, soaps, and oils. Kovos sat Jenna on the side of the tub. He watched her face, twisted with grief, as he waited for the tub to fill.
He grabbed a spare towel, and poured on some aromatic oils from a bottle. Taking her hand, he began wiping away the foul fluid from her skin. The warm scent of spices hid the rancid smell of Sykorian blood. The towel swept away the dark stains, revealing her creamy skin. Kovos threw the towel in the corner once her hands were cleaner.
“There… there were children,” she said. “Did…”
“They left, my moonsong. They were not there when the explosions began.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, my brother was with them. Cyrlen. The baby. He was bitter about missing Lithyon’s performance. Mother told the children they had to leave for bed once they were done. Not even the children of dignitaries would dare disobey my mother.”
She took a deep breath, but kept rocking. “That’s… that’s good. That’s good.” Her eyes drifted over the room, until they landed on the oil burbling into the tub.
“Oil bath,” she said. “Another weird Ennoi thing.”
“Yes,” Kovos replied. “You mentioned a few days ago that humans bathe with water. Is this adequate? It is all there is here.”
She shook her head. “No, I got used to it. It’s weird, but it works. When in Rome, and all that.”
“Rome. That is near Italy.”
She didn’t laugh, but the light returned to her eyes. “You paid attention!”
“I am a politician. It is my job to pay attention.”
He took a moment to appreciate the smile she gave him, no matter how shaky. It meant she was resilient, even in the face of danger and trauma. Asking about the children showed she cared, deeply. He cherished her heart.
No, I cherish her.
And I would sacrifice anything for her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JENNA
She couldn’t stop shaking.
Adrenaline, she reminded herself. Stage fright, and...
Stage fright and horror. That’s why she couldn’t stop trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself. It could have been so, so much worse. Yet, her body wouldn’t stop moving.
“The bath is ready.” Kovos’s voice was gentle as an Ennoi rumble could be.
Jenna reached for the knots on her gown, but her fingers fumbled. Kovos stepped forward, and then paused as Jenna tensed up.
“May I assist you?”
When Jenna nodded, he stepped forward again, but this time slowly, as if not to spook a frightened animal.
That’s what I am. A frightened bunny.
A lump formed in her throat, and it tasted like a scream that would never stop if she let it escape. She clamped her lips together, holding the front of her gown as the ties fell down around her shoulders.
“I shall leave you to bathe.” Kovos turned for the door.
“Wait!” Jenna grabbed the back of his robe. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I… Please stay. I can’t be here alone right now.”
“Nothing will harm you,” Kovos replied. From the fist he clenched at his side, she knew he was serious. She dropped her hand, and he turned to face the door. “Nothing will enter this chamber whilst you bathe.”
Jenna hesitated for a moment, studying Kovos’s broad back. She’d been in and out of clothes in front of half the stage crew of a dozen performances, but somehow, having Kovos here made her shy.
“Kovos?”
“Yes, moonsong?” He kept his back turned.
Jenna sighed. “Nothing. I’m- I’m getting into the bath now.”
Did his shoulders tense? Or did I imagine it?
“Yes, moonsong.”
She slid off the gown and kicked it into the corner, thankful to be out of the sticky, reeking fabric. Why do they smell so bad? She wanted to toss it out the window, but even the simple under-gown held valuable gemstones woven into the embroidery on the bodice.
Probably worth more than me.
The bath was warm, and Kovos had placed some sort of aromatic extract into the water. It clouded the water, making it milky, and the scent of the night garden filled her senses. She could smell the ripeness of jukkad fruit and the delicate scent of moonsong flowers.
He named me after the flowers, she thought. After that night we spent in the garden.
The trembling slowed, but didn’t stop.
Jenna splashed oil across her shoulders, and over her face. She lifted her hands to her head.
“Kovos?”
“Hmmm?” He sounded distracted.
“I can’t get these braids out. I don’t want to lose any of the jewels. Please help.”
Kovos made a strangled noise, then cleared his throat. “May I approach?”
She nodded, and closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the tub.
Kovos touched her hair. “Forgive me if I pull.”
“Ha! You can’t be any worse than Cyndrae.”
At first his hands were hesitant. Eventually, he worked a gem free, and placed it in a decorative dish with a clink.
“This may take a while,” Kovos said. “They do not wish to release easily.”
Jenna sighed. “Take your time.”
In all honesty, it felt nice to have Kovos fussing over her hair. His hands brushed her skin here and there, and goosebumps rose along her arms and the back of her neck.
“I am certain my mother would be amused to watch me struggle thusly,” Kovos muttered. “As a youngster, I spent an inordinate amount of time mocking her hair.”
Jenna pictured the tall Ennoi woman and her stern face. It was clear she loved her sons, but Jenna doubted she’d be up for teasing. “It sounds like she put up with a lot from you.”
“She did. I inherited my personality from her.” Jenna could hear the smile in his voice. He paused as he tugged off another jewel. “What of your own mother?”
Jenna tilted her head to her chest. “She… wasn’t as involved as your mom.”
Kovos’s hands paused. She waited for him to press on and ask for more, the way everyone back on Earth did when she mentioned anything negative about her life or childhood. They always wanted to know more, not because they cared, but because they wanted the juicy drama her silence
promised.
To her surprise, Kovos said nothing further. His hands began to move again, and Jenna felt a great sense of release. He was content to leave her alone. He wouldn’t push her. He wouldn’t take more than she would give.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jenna blurted out. “She wasn’t a horrible mother.” Under the surface of the oil, she picked at her cuticle. “She just… didn’t know what to do with me. Or what to do about me.”
“What needed to be done about you?”
Jenna sighed. This part of the story always hurt, but somehow, she wanted Kovos to know. Everything. To really, truly know her.
“After… After that night. After the truck driver found me. After the hospital and the police. After the media and… and the fuss. After I got home… Mom wanted me to forget. She wanted everything to go back the way it used to be.”
Which meant that Jenna’s far-fetched stories were met with anger and punishment. Sharon Harlock had been a teen mom, and all she wanted for her daughters was for them to not repeat her mistakes. So when Melissa acted out and dated older boys, and Jenna spoke of alien sex in the woods, she clamped down on her children with a harshness that stifled them. When Jenna wouldn’t drop the subject, Sharon took further steps.
“She sent me to a loony bin.” Jenna swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Oh, they dressed up the name. Mental Health Crisis Help Center. Say that five times fast! The name made it sound like they wanted what was best for me. But it was a loony bin. They just wanted me to stop talking. About aliens. About that night.”
At first, Jenna hadn’t stopped. She’d talked and talked, even to people who wouldn’t really listen. But the more she talked, the more she spent time in isolation, or getting pills that made her sleepy and her brain slow. So she stopped talking after a while, and, after a while, they sent her home.
“You learned to keep silent?” Kovos asked, picking at a lumi tangled in a curl.
Jenna snorted. “I wish! I tried again, with my friends from school. With the librarian. With police officers at parades. With strangers in the grocery store.” She swept a hand across the surface of the bath. “I wanted them to know, about those women who were taken. The ones who didn’t get out.”
“You wanted to find help for them.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, and Jenna leaned her cheek onto his knuckles.
“I wanted to save them.” Tears stung Jenna’s eyes. “I wanted to try. That woman, Rebecca, she tried to protect me. Couldn’t I do the same for them?”
“But nobody listened?”
“I wound up at a different institute. And another. Until I learned to keep my mouth shut all the time. From everyone.”
Even Mel.
It was safer that way.
“Until today,” Kovos said.
She nodded. “Until today.”
As he worked, Kovos gained confidence, and the quiet lapping of the bath was broken by more and more clinking sounds.
“I believe that is all of them.”
“How many were there?”
“I counted twenty and seven decorative stones, and a further fifteen invisible hair clasps.”
Jenna laughed. “Explains why my hair survived.”
She closed her eyes and sank down into the tub, letting the oil cover her head and ears, lifting her face to the ceiling. The tension eased from her body as the heat worked its magic.
“Kovos?”
“Hmm?” Even muffled by the liquid in her ears, his voice sounded distant, distracted.
“You listened. Thank you.”
She opened her eyes, expecting him to be turned away, to be facing the door, but to her surprise, he towered above her, looking down at her naked body. Her chest had broken the surface of the water, and the coolness of the air made her skin prickle. The heat in Kovos’s stare made her nipples harden.
His eyes flicked to hers, and the galaxies within his gaze trapped her. She could fall forever into those strange alien eyes. The lights within them swirled, inviting her to follow as they beckoned.
As Jenna sat up, Kovos blinked and turned away.
“I apologize. I… I should not have made you uncomfortable.”
Jenna licked her lips, studying his broad shoulders. After the warmth of the tub, the air felt frigid. “You didn’t. Kovos? Look at me.”
He turned his shoulder, but he kept his face averted.
“Kovos, you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. You made me feel wanted.”
And needed. And beautiful. And powerful.
And safe.
Jenna stood, letting the oil stream from her body. She took the towel Kovos handed to her, blotting her hair and buffing the oil from her body as she stepped out of the tub.
“Carry me to bed,” she said, as she wrapped the towel around herself. She was giddy with her own power.
I’m driving him crazy.
Me!
“As you wish, moonsong.”
She lifted her arms, and with a low groan, Kovos swept her up into his arms. Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to the bed, and laid her down. When he made to rise, he found himself trapped in her arms.
Their eyes met again, and Jenna bit her lip at the fire that burned within him.
“Kovos, can humans and Ennoi…” Heat rushed to her face. “I mean, are we… compatible?”
He tilted his head. “Biologically, we share many similarities. Humans can eat Ennoi food unharmed. The ideal Ennoi environment…”
Jenna shook her head, still blushing furiously. “No, I mean… Physically. Are we compatible physically? Can we… can we make love?”
She wondered how the translator would deal with that euphemism. Would it come out crude? Would he understand what she meant?
After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded slowly.
“Yes,” he said, his voice thick. “I believe we can make love.”
“Do… do you want to make love?” Jenna’s heart thundered. “To me?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KOVOS
She might as well have asked him if he wanted to continue breathing — if he wanted his heart to continue its frantic thundering in his chest.
Since the night in the garden, he’d been driven to distraction by her presence. He wanted to touch every part of her, again and again, and then again once more. Instead, he’d been forced to control himself, covering his need and desire in a mask of professionalism.
A leader puts the wellbeing of his people first.
Did he want to make love to her?
Of course. She enchanted him. Only a madman or corpse could resist her charms.
A leader cannot rule with his heart.
He drew in a shuddering breath, and closed his eyes. He took a moment to silence the voices clamoring in his mind. Which want, need, desire belonged to Kovos the King, and which to Kovos the Man?
And which voice belongs to my father?
When he opened his eyes, Jenna stared up at him, her hair a golden river streaming from her head and down her lush body. Her blue eyes were wide, and the innocence in them made his heart ache. The Promise Stone on her chest flashed with each breath she took. Every muscle in his body tensed. He pushed away from the bed, and sat on the edge.
“I want you,” he ground out. “More than I can say. I want you.”
I want you so much it hurts.
Everywhere.
Her mouth pursed, and he wanted to kiss away her disappointment.
“There’s a ‘but’ coming,” she said. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“But,” he said, “this is not the place. You deserve a bed strewn with moonsong petals. Soft music.” He patted the bare mattress. “Sheets.”
“I don’t need those things,” she replied.
“Perhaps not, but you deserve them.”
She laid her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t need those things,” she repeated.
He did not respond.
Dared not respond. His thoughts swirled in a haze of confusion. The fear of an incorrect decision haunted him. If he performed the wrong action or spoke amiss, he would lose her. She would be gone, like a puff of smoke. Like the smoke that fogged his brain.
Why can’t I think straight?
The bed dipped as she sat back on her heels in frustration. “Look, I… I lost my virginity in the backseat of a 1980s Volvo station wagon that smelled like stale beer and old socks.”
He turned slowly, and stared at her.
“To whom?” Kovos decided he would hunt down that human and have a word about honorable behavior.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jenna continued. “He was just a guy. An annoying guy. So annoying. Not the point. The point is, even then, I didn’t regret what I did, or where, or even with who. I regretted why.”
“Why?” Maybe he would knock out his teeth to underline the lesson.
“I did it because I wanted him to like me.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I thought if I did what he wanted, he would like me more.”
Yes, and Kovos would break his kneecaps for good measure.
“I like you already, Jenna. You need not prove yourself to me.”
She hopped off the bed to stand before him, and wrapped her hands around his face, drawing his eyes to hers. Her fingers felt cool against his burning skin, and her natural aroma couldn’t hide beneath the bath oils. She lowered her mouth, brushing her lips across his until his scalp tingled.
“And that is exactly why I want to do this with you right now. It doesn’t matter where we are.”
She trailed tiny kisses along his jaw, and Kovos closed his eyes, letting the thrill of each contact race down his body and spark in his belly. He wanted more, more kisses, more caresses, more of Jenna.
Wanting her is selfish.
“All that matters is that it’s you,” she whispered. “You and me.”
