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Copyright ©2008 by Bonnie Rose Leigh
First published in extasybooks.com, 2008
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CONTENTS
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
About the Author
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Mikel's Wrath
By
Bonnie Rose Leigh
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mikel's Wrath
Copyright ã 2008 Bonnie Rose Leigh
ISBN: 978-1-55487-096-7
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Dedication
To Chris for always being there for me, to Twila and Tianna for your late-night gab-sessions and to Amanda for checking on me when I'd gone silent too long, this one's for you. You all are the best.
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Prologue
Mari, the Mother Goddess of the Sea, contemplated the many paths of the future spread out before her. So many different paths. So many different futures. One mistake, one wrong choice and disaster awaited the Manruvians ... among others. Hidden from all but her most faithful priestesses, she stared into the Crystal Lake of Ikaria—the lake of foretelling. Swirling the vision waters with her hand, she broke apart the images, having seen what she needed to make her decision.
The time had come for change. Some would die, fated to pass over to a higher plain. Some would battle with all their heart and succeed. Some would not. War would soon reach the peaceful Manruvians. How she wanted to step in, to stop events before they even began. Even a goddess must follow certain rules—and thwarting the three sisters of fate was the rule she must not outright break.
If the Manruvian Merfolk were to endure the coming trials, they'd have to use all their resources, all their allies. Many challenges were coming, many changes, and only the strong of heart and pure of soul had a chance at survival.
The time had come for her to whisper in some ears, to plant some ideas, even if it did bend the rules a wee bit. She had to be careful of what she said, or she might do more harm than good, creating the very disaster she wanted to avoid. Even goddesses had their limitations.
With that firmly in mind, Mari closed her eyes and thought of whom she'd speak to first. Her lips tilted into a smile. Yes, Brantiff Shi'Lan, King of the Chantrean Lionese would be the best person to speak to first. His imprisonment by his own daughter, The Black Rose—a vicious Lionese female infamous for kidnapping men and women of all races and forcefully turning them into breeding slaves—would make him sympathetic to what was coming. His council to his sons, Hunter and Taliff Shi'Lan and to their friend and ally, Mikel Logann would be invaluable in the battle to come. He'd be their strongest ally, their fiercest protector.
Visualizing the Chantrean Palace, Mari let her powers loose. They coalesced around her body, wrapping her in a ball of brilliant white light. With just a wish, Mari, Goddess of the Sea, found herself on Chantrea, invisible to all, even her most powerful Chantrean Priestesses. Now to change into the persona that the Chantreans knew her as—Alana, the Mother Goddess of Chantrea.
Changing her flaming red curls, to golden corkscrews, her long, aqua gown to one of diaphanous white, silk, Mari, aka Alana, passed through the halls of the palace unnoticed by all. Carried on the wind, the only sign of her passing was the fresh scent of sea that followed in her wake.
Time grew short with much still to accomplish and she'd yet to find her quarry. Only then, when positive she'd have a few moments alone with King Shi'Lan, would she make herself known to him. For now, only few could know of her presence here, or all could be lost. For even amongst his own people, there were traitors in his court and tipping them off too soon could turn disastrous—for everyone.
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Chapter One
Mikel Logann, High Prince and heir to the throne of Manruvia, glanced through the transomani at the planet below, his hands fisted at his sides.
Maryann could feel the anger coming off him in turbulent waves, so, for now, she kept silent.
"The planet is devoid of life. Either The Black Rose has left no survivors, or she and her followers have taken everyone and moved to another planet. Do we waste our time on the surface below looking for the bodies of the dead, or worry about locating the living?"
His anger kept her firmly rooted in place, unable to answer him. Did he expect her to run from him in fear or perhaps he wanted a different reaction all together? Either way she chose not to say anything at all, knowing her silence would goad him into facing her rather than looking out toward the vastness of space.
He turned around, facing her for the first time since she entered the room. “I will leave this room once again, Maryann, because I know you think it is my fault we are in this situation and you are angry your body is making demands upon you that you do not like. But I warn you ... One. Last. Time.” He turned to face the door. “If you follow me again, I will not be held responsible for my actions. If you follow me from this room and into my quarters, I will take it as your consent to start my seduction. And if you think your suit is painful now, wait until I begin to touch you."
Shame filled Maryann Wilson as she watched Mikel storm off. She purposely provoked the Manruvian prince, hoping he'd do exactly what he accused her of just a few moments ago—take the decision out of her hands and seduce her. She didn't want to take responsibility for either her emotions or her actions. She didn't want to feel at all, because feeling anything at all brought back the memories of pain and torture, rape and abuse, betrayal and starvation—all things she'd rather never remember again.
Now, her body had betrayed her, choosing Mikel as her mate when she'd not been looking for a man—not now anyway. She didn't blame all men for the actions of her rapists. In fact, she wanted a healthy, normal relationship—someday. What she objected to was that her body—and the symbiotic suit she was living in
—could arbitrarily choose someone for her without one word passing between them, not even an introduction.
If The Black Rose hadn't attacked, hadn't forced them to take refuge in the symbiotic Manruvian pressure suits that conformed to the body like a wet suit from Earth, she would have at least had time to meet Mikel, find out his name. But no, once the suit went on to protect her from possible air contamination in the ship's atmosphere, it took over monitoring and controlling all her bodily functions.
Then, within seconds of getting word it was safe to take off the facemask, she inhaled Mikel's scent. The Symbiotic suit immediately bonded with her skin, making it impossible to remove until she accepted her mate-bond with Mikel both emotionally and mentally.
She couldn't lie to her suit either, couldn't pretend to want to become his mate—she'd tried that already and failed. A sentient, symbiotic being, it knew her every emotion and thought, fed off them in fact. Until she truly accepted him as mate, the suit would continue to stimulate her sexually, feeding off her frustration and need.
Every few minutes it sent waves of heat pulsing into her pussy, zipping her clit with energy when she least expected it. She swore the suit even tightened around the areolas of her nipples, tweaking them, pulling them into tight buds even in her sleep.
After nearly a week of non-stop arousal, she was about ready to give in, but she didn't want to tie herself to a virtual stranger. In truth, her clit was so hard and throbbing one good tug would probably get her off, but she couldn't get her fingers near it. Of course, that just pissed her off even more.
It wanted Mikel or no one, would settle for nothing less. Whatever happened to getting to know someone first? Dating? Finding out if you even like each other before deciding to do the horizontal mambo? No, her body liked the smell of his and that was that, it wanted no other for the rest of its life. And from what little she'd learned this past week from the ship's sentient computer, Skalldari, once his super semen made its way inside her and started her conversion—whatever that meant—she'd live for a very long time.
Goddess ... Why couldn't her life be simple, like any normal human? But no, she'd gotten mixed up in a shifter breeding-sex slave ring when The Black Rose kidnapped her from Earth, was on the verge of war with said slaver, which is why they were searching the galaxy for her and the bases she'd stashed her other victims. To top it all off, she'd was now about to be forced to become the mate to a merman Prince, if she ever wanted control over her own body again. Life couldn't get any more complicated than that.
Well, the time had arrived to strap on her big girl boots and take a leap of faith that the Manruvian's Symbiotic suit—and she really needed to find out the proper name of the sentient material—knew best when it chose Mikel as her mate. She was being stubborn and she knew it, childish by not speaking to him in kindness. She'd yet to give him a chance—she knew that, too. It didn't mean she wasn't scared shitless at the idea of getting in bed with the guy—any guy at this point, even one she knew wouldn't ever hurt her, not intentionally anyway.
She couldn't run or hide from her future though, no matter how frightened she felt. They were mates. She needed to face that head on. If she continued to provoke him, she'd never get to know the real man, which would totally defeat the purpose behind her decision to put off mating with him this long.
Knowing that it wouldn't be any easier to take this step by waiting until morning, Maryann headed toward Mikel's quarters, fully aware of just where it would lead. Except, instead of him seducing her, he'd be the one seduced. He'd damned well like it, too. Then in the morning, she'd get to know the man behind the crown.
Finally, confident in her plans, Maryann walked faster, wanting to run a brush through her hair before stopping by his room. She also wanted to pick up some supplies she had Skalldari transport to her room throughout the week. She'd give Mikel such a show, he'd be begging her to take him before the night ended and, for once in Goddess knows how long, she'd be in control of things.
Maryann transported to her room, then decided to walk to Mikel's cabin to give her nerves time to settle down. The ship was so big. The hallways were huge, the walls, floors and ceilings were cylindrical in shape and yet her feet were firmly rooted to the ground. Some form of artificial Gravity according to the sentient computer, Skalldari. So, even if they were tumbling through space, as long as their feet were on one of the walls, they would be able to walk to where they needed to get on the ship, if the transporters were down. Otherwise, with just a command to Skalldari, they could be wherever they wanted with a word.
Ten minutes later, Maryann stood outside Mikel's quarters, her bag of supplies draped over one shoulder, ready to take her man. Swallowing past the lump lodged in her throat, she raised her hand and, after only a small hesitation, placed it on the control pad, allowing Skalldari to do whatever it is she did to confirm that Mikel had given permission for her to enter—not that she knew for sure he had, but he basically implied as much earlier.
After scanning her palm print, the lock beeped twice before the door slid silently open. She froze, her hand still resting against the security pad when she caught her first glimpse of her mate. Mikel stood just inside the doorway, lounging against the wall as though expecting her arrival—and maybe he had. She swallowed, really looked at him, trying to take in every detail of this moment—the moment she'd finally take control over her life—her future.
"I've been waiting for you, Maryann."
She tilted her head back, looked up into his blue-green eyes. She could feel the heat of arousal burning in his veins. She sensed his edgy need as though she were inside his thoughts, his skin. She had to step away from him before she did something completely foolish—like beg him to fuck her. She wanted, no needed, him to end the agony the suit had put her through for the last week. She had a plan for tonight and the only one who'd lose control stood in front of her. She just had to stick to it.
Skirting around him, she sauntered into his private quarters as though she didn't have a care in the world and had every right to be there. She looked around, fascinated by the wide range of styles he'd chosen to decorate his cabin. Oversized furniture, colorful artwork, luxurious floor coverings and various types and styles of tables were scattered around the room.
Her gaze rested on an overstuffed leather-like chair that looked more comfortable than anything she'd ever seen back home on Earth. It faced the rest of the room leaving her to see everything at will, so she headed toward it, confident that at this point Mikel had no idea just how much she wanted to turn tail and run, leaving his seduction for some other time.
Acting with nonchalance she didn't feel, Maryann settled back into the chair, sinking into its comfy depths, before slowly crossing her legs. When that didn't get her the reaction she craved, she bit her bottom lip as she casually stoked her leg from knee to thigh, drawing heart-shaped patterns along her skin-tight suit until her hand was just a hair's breadth away from her pussy.
She wanted his complete attention on her. Though he remained by the door, she swore she heard him draw in a deep breath. She smiled, feeling more in control every moment. A feeling of power washed over her, something so new and precious she didn't know what to do with it. So for now, she just enjoyed it and continued to lightly caress her skin through her suit, watching him watch her.
Since the moment they met, he continually caught her attention with his looks and mannerisms, but now, wearing only the body conforming silvery grey pressure suit he usually wore beneath his uniform, she couldn't help but stare. The man was gorgeous.
With his face bronzed by wind and sun, Mikel epitomized the phrase ruggedly handsome . He had a small bump on the bridge of his nose from an obvious break, proving he'd not lived a pampered life. His lips were full and sensual and she'd bet money he could kiss her unconscious if he chose to. His hair hung to his shoulders and gleamed gold in the low light. By the Goddess Alana, she couldn't wait to run her fingers through it and see if it felt as soft as it looked.
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More often than not, he held his head high with pride, aware of his station in life, his destiny, but every once in a while she caught a glimpse of his loneliness in their depths. There were age lines around his eyes and mouth that muted his youthful appearance, though he could be anywhere from mid-thirties to much, much older.
Skalldari had not skimped in the information Maryann had asked her for and it didn't take long to realize the Manruvians reached their mid-thirties naturally then the aging process practically stopped. After they reached their peak reproductive stage in their maturity, they aged only one year for every twenty or so human years.
She continued to stare at him, inspecting him as she would a new stud she wanted to purchase. Until she gained control over her own arousal, she needed to keep the upper hand, however she could.
Mikel towered over most men by a good four inches and stood at least a foot taller than her own five foot five inch height. With broad shoulders, muscular arms and a narrow waist, he had the perfect swimmer's body—strong, powerful and agile. His torso practically rippled as he moved. She couldn't wait to see if her imagination rivaled the real thing when he revealed his body to her the first time. She licked her lips and watched, amazed as his cock grew and grew and grew beneath his taut suit. Goddess, that had to hurt.
Maryann bit back a moan of need as her clothing took that moment to stimulate her clit, sending pulsing waves of warmth through the small bud. She gripped the arms of her chair, then took a deep breath before returning her focus to Mikel and his reactions to her subtle movements.
Ignoring her body's desperate need, she had to admit, at least to herself, she couldn't wait to get her hands on him, to feel his controlled power quiver beneath her touch. He exuded masculinity and leashed power with every breath and, no matter how much she wanted to jump him, she wouldn't. Not yet, anyway.
Worlds Apart 3: Mikel's Wrath Page 1
