by I. T. Lucas
She wished she was the type who could actually voice these thoughts, or even act upon them. But she never would. Even intoxicated, she could never be that brazen.
Sighing, Syssi cursed her romantically debilitating shyness. She could lust after Kian on the inside, but she’d never make the first move.
Braving a glance, she expected Kian’s expression to be smug. Men like him were used to women fawning over them. They were empowered by it, expected it. Instead, he surprised her.
His beautiful eyes were full of regret.
With a resigned sigh, he pushed up from where he sat and offered her his hand. “Come on, beautiful, let me take you home,” he said quietly.
Ignoring his hand, Syssi kept looking at him with wide questioning eyes, perplexed by the mixed signals he was sending her. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she blurted.
Usually, she was good at reading people, but Kian’s mercurial behavior was impossible to figure out. One moment he looked like he wanted to do all kinds of naughty and exciting things to her, the next he regarded her as if she was a nuisance that he wanted nothing to do with. Then calling her beautiful again.
Make up your mind! Syssi wanted to scream at him.
“That’s because you are beautiful.” Kian’s face softened, but his smile remained tight-lipped. Pulling her up to her feet, he held on to her hand as he led her out. At the front door, he paused to call to his butler, “Okidu, I’m taking Syssi home. I’ll be back shortly.”
The squat man rushed out of the kitchen. “Let me drive the young lady, Master. You do not have to burden yourself thus.” Okidu was already putting his driver hat on.
“It’s okay, Okidu. It would please me to take Syssi home myself.” Kian held the door open for her.
“But, Master—” The guy seemed distraught.
Kian pinned him with a hard stare. “That’s enough.”
She wanted to tell Kian that she’d rather have the butler drive her, but after a quick look at his face she reconsidered. That hard, determined expression of his reminded her of Andrew, and she knew Kian wouldn’t budge. She had enough experience arguing with her brother to know it would be futile to try.
It’s gonna be torturous. Syssi grimaced, imagining the awkward silence that would most likely stretch between them on the drive to her home. Kian didn’t seem like the kind of guy who did small talk, and neither was she. Hopefully, traffic would be merciful and the drive short.
She’d been right.
Starting with the elevator, through the car ride, it was just as awkward as she had imagined it would be. Kian drove stone-faced and quiet. She was stiff and nervous, anxious for it to be over.
It felt like a first date gone all wrong. Except, it wasn’t even a date! Just two people who rubbed each other the wrong way, or perhaps the right way, which was even scarier.
As they got closer to her place, she began to worry. There was no doubt in her mind that Kian would insist on walking her to her door and not leave till she was safely inside. And after seeing the grandeur of his place, she hoped he wouldn’t think that her tiny guesthouse-apartment was a dump.
Right behind her landlady’s home, the converted garage was cozy and safe. And the rent was no more than what she would’ve paid at the dorms, while offering her more privacy and quiet. But compared to his penthouse it looked like a hovel.
Damn, sometimes being frugal and independent backfired. If she’d accepted her parents’ offer to pay for a decent apartment, she wouldn’t be fretting now about Kian getting the wrong impression about her.
He insisted not only on walking her to the door but on checking the interior for any possible threats as well. Thankfully, though, he didn’t seem to mind or even notice the old secondhand furniture, or the mess. Syssi, on the other hand, added it to her long list of Kian-related embarrassments.
Standing like a doofus by the door, she waited for him to be done.
It took Kian all of thirty seconds, and even that took as long only because he decided to include the bathroom in his sweep.
Her neighbor’s cat decided to take advantage of the open door and perform an inspection of his own. Walking around the small space, his tail held high in the air, he gave Kian serious competition for the whole aloof, regal, everyone-is-beneath-me look.
Crossing paths, the two males stopped to face and size each other up, and granting each other their royal approval, continued on their way.
Syssi cracked up.
Add snorting laugh to the list, she admonished herself, but it was just too funny. It was a shame she hadn’t recorded the exchange, it would’ve gone viral on YouTube.
“What’s so funny?” Kian regarded her like she was short of a screw.
Covering her mouth with her hand to try and suppress the giggles, Syssi just pointed at him and then at the cat—who, sitting on his hind paws, waggled his tail in agitation, apparently disapproving of the giggling as well.
“Whatever it was, I’m glad my feline friend and I were able to make you laugh. It was our distinct pleasure to amuse you.” Kian bowed theatrically, his hand almost touching the floor.
Some of Amanda’s flair for the dramatic must’ve rubbed off on her brother.
Suspecting he didn’t get to be this way often, she found his unexpected playfulness endearing. It made him seem more approachable, easing some of the discomforting effect he had on her.
Syssi realized she liked him, and not just for his amazing body and his beautiful face.
Blushing, she lowered her eyes. But then his silence compelled her to lift them back up, and her breath caught.
Kian was looking at her as if he was dying to kiss her. Except, it wasn’t the predatory look from before. His eyes were soft and full of longing—a deep want that for some reason was shadowed by dark clouds of sorrow and regret.
Gazing into those sad blue eyes, she knew he wasn’t going to do it, and she would forever wonder what kissing him would’ve felt like.
It’s better to live dangerously than not live at all. Amanda’s words echoed in her head.
On impulse, Syssi brought her palms up to his cheeks, touching them lightly with her fingertips. Kian closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. Bending his considerable frame to just the right height, he all but invited her to stretch up on her toes and kiss him.
Her kiss started soft, gentle, with their bodies barely touching. Kian held her almost reverently; one hand cradling the back of her head, the other around her waist.
It was a nice, sweet kiss, but it wasn’t what she wanted. What she needed. Underneath his reserve and his tenderness, Syssi sensed the wild beast he was holding back.
She wanted it unleashed.
Pressing herself closer to him and feeling the hard ridges and planes of his powerful body, she wanted more of him. With her hands streaking into his soft hair, she grasped fistfuls of it and pulled him closer, a soft moan escaping her throat.
It was all the encouragement he needed.
In a split second, Syssi found herself pressed against the wall, the hand at the back of her head fisting her hair, the other cupping her butt and lifting her up. Kian positioned her so their bodies aligned, grinding his hard length against her pelvis.
Hot, demanding, powerful.
As his tongue pushed past her lips—exploring and dueling with hers, retracting and invading in a blatant imitation of the act of sex—she felt her core bloom for him, flooding with wetness.
Now, that was a kiss! Syssi acknowledged with the few brain cells still functioning. Raw and intense, it ignited a burn that was about to burst into an all-out fire.
Touch me, she implored Kian silently, her breasts tight and heavy, craving his touch.
With her silent plea ignored, she resorted to rubbing herself against his chest, hoping the friction would provide some sort of relief. But all too soon he retracted, leaving her bereft.
Both palms cradling her cheeks, he touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. For a moment, they bo
th panted breathlessly, waiting for their racing hearts to slow down.
As Kian lifted his head and looked into her eyes with that sad and resigned expression from before, her heart sank. The odd roll of her stomach portended that Kian was leaving and wasn’t planning on ever coming back.
The one time she was actually considering taking a guy she’d just met to her bed, he didn’t want her.
Syssi shut her eyes against the pain, concentrating on memorizing the feel of Kian’s thumb caressing her cheek. He waited until she reluctantly opened her eyes to look at him.
An odd light shone in his dark blue eyes as he kept her mesmerized with that intense gaze. “Good night, sweet Syssi, you had a long day, and you’re very tired, you need to get some sleep.”
She was... so very tired... so confused…
Shuffling her feet, Syssi barely made it to her bed before collapsing on it—fully clothed with her shoes still on.
Chapter 19: Kian
Syssi was out for the night.
Standing next to the bed and watching her, Kian sighed and raked both hands through his hair.
The girl was proving difficult to resist.
She’d wanted him from the start, and even if he hadn’t been able to scent her desire, it had been all over her expressive face—sweet and innocent in her shyness, still young and hopeful, so different from him.
He’d been tempted, breaking protocol and not taking his bodyguards with him so he could be alone with her. For a few moments, he’d even managed to convince himself that he was doing it for the clan.
Their future dependent on finding Dormants.
Except, he would’ve never forgiven himself if he’d taken her. It would’ve been deceitful, dishonorable. Kian had sacrificed enough of himself for the clan, for his family; the one thing he refused to give up was his self-respect, his honor.
As much as he craved her, he couldn’t take what she so freely offered. The decent thing to do was to stay away.
Except, how could he?
When she had smiled at him, after his ridiculous bow, that radiant smile had transformed her from sweet and beautiful to spectacular, and he’d wanted to vow that he’d always make her smile like that. Even if it meant making a fool of himself, it would be well worth it just to hear her laugh and giggle, carefree and unreserved.
Gazing at her beautiful face, he wanted to stay. Not for sex, although he wanted that too, but to embrace her and hold her tightly, caress her hair and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. To amuse her, to make her happy.
Just one kiss, he’d thought a moment before she’d kissed him—she wouldn’t remember it anyway.
He couldn’t allow it.
Knowing he would be leaving soon and erasing himself from Syssi’s memories—most likely never to see her again—had twisted a knot inside him, bringing on a sense of loss and resigned sadness.
But it was the right thing to do.
For Syssi’s sake.
His thrall had buried and muddled her memory of the day’s events, starting from the moment he’d entered the lab. All she’d remember tomorrow would be going home with a headache and collapsing on her bed. If at all, the memory of him might surface in her dreams, nothing more.
With a sigh, he removed her shoes and tucked the blanket around her, making sure her feet were covered.
And still, he couldn’t make himself leave.
Looking down at her lovely face, he brushed a strand of hair away from her damp forehead.
What an inferno blazed beneath that shy, reserved exterior of hers. So much so that Kian could almost believe Syssi harbored some sweetly dark desires—the kind he would’ve been more than happy to fulfill.
He’d never find out, though, would he?
Was he foolishly stubborn, just as Amanda had accused?
Why was he fighting this so hard?
Was he truly doing the decent thing and being chivalrous?
Kian wished he had someone he could talk to. Someone to help him clear his head and sort through all these conflicting and confusing emotions. Except, there was no one he was comfortable enough with, or close enough to.
With one last brush of his fingertips against her smooth cheek, he headed for the door. And as he closed it quietly behind him, Tim Curry’s “Sloe Gin” lyrics echoed in his head. I’m so fucking lonely.
Kian shook his head as he walked down the long driveway back to his car, the cool air helping clear his head. He didn’t have the luxury of allowing himself to wallow in self-pity. Even if a relationship with Syssi were possible, though he had no idea how such thing could’ve worked with a human, there was no place for it in his life. Running the clan’s international business conglomerate and keeping his family safe from the Doomers required his full and undivided attention.
Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to how this never-ending war had begun.
Chapter 20: Kian
The story was one Kian had heard his mother tell many times. With each retelling, the details would change a little; some new tidbits added, others omitted. As a child, Kian had thought her forgetful, or fanciful. Only later, he’d realized that she’d been tailoring her story to her audience.
Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone would’ve dared to accuse a goddess of forgetting, or making things up.
By now he had it memorized.
The tale would’ve sounded familiar to most mortals, as its distorted echoes had been recorded in the traditions of several of their cultures. Written in various languages, the names of the players had been changed and the story adapted to fit different agendas, different moralities, different sets of beliefs.
It had become a myth.
But as all timeless myths go, it had at its core a true story.
There had been a time when the gods lived among the mortals—bestowing their benevolence, providing knowledge and culture and helping humanity establish an advanced, moral and just society.
In gratitude, the people had worshiped the gods, expressing their adoration with offerings of their best goods and their freely donated labor.
Obviously, these gods hadn’t been actual deities. Still, whether they had been the survivors of an earlier, superior civilization or refugees from somewhere else, his mother wouldn’t say. She either didn’t know or was keeping the knowledge to herself. Annani took her godly status very seriously and made sure everyone else did as well.
Perhaps she sought to elevate her grandness, as if it was needed or even possible, by shrouding her origins in mystery.
The gods had unimaginable powers. They could cast illusions so powerful that they fooled the minds of thousands. Their power over the human mind was so strong that their illusions not only looked and smelled real but even felt real to the touch. They could project thoughts and images into the unsuspecting, inferior minds of mortals, influencing everything from moods, to moral conduct, to a call to battle, all the way to divine revelation and inspiration.
Physically, they were perfect. Stunningly beautiful. Their bodies never aged or contracted diseases, and healed injuries in mere moments.
But they could still die.
Even the gods couldn’t survive decapitation or withstand a nuclear blast. For which, unfortunately, they had the means.
They were few.
The limited gene pool combined with an extremely low conception rate prompted the gods to seek compatible mates among the mortals. Those unions proved to be more fruitful, and many near-immortal children were born. But when those children took human mates, their progeny turned out to be mortal.
Upon closer examination, their scientists found a way to activate the dormant, godly genes, but only for the children of the female immortals. The children of the males were sadly doomed to mortality.
Annani, one of the few pureblood children born to the gods, and the daughter of the leading couple, became the most coveted young goddess.
The one fortunate enough to mate her would become their next ruler.
The chain of eve
nts following her coming-of-age wasn’t surprising. A fierce competition ensued between two suitors. Mortdh, the son of her father’s brother and, therefore, the first in line for her hand, was her intended. And Khiann, the son of a less prominent, though wealthy family, who on the face of things didn’t stand a chance.
But Annani was very young and impetuous, and she chose the one she loved and who loved her back. Not the one she was promised to, who never really cared for her and had already numerous concubines and children of his own.
Mortdh was infuriated and demanded she mate him, as was his right. But his right was superseded by her choice. The gods’ code of conduct clearly stated that any mating, even one with a lowly mortal, had to be consensual.
Madly in love, Khiann and Annani were joined in a grand ceremony.
Both gods and mortals were so infatuated with the great love story that they wrote hymns and created myths to commemorate it.
Khiann and Annani’s love was the story everyone loved to tell.
The tale of love’s triumph.
It drove Mortdh insane. In his mind, he lost not only his one chance for sovereignty, but the respect of all.
And it was: All. Her. Fault.
His hatred of Annani, and by extension of all women, burned with rabid intensity. He detested the females’ right to choose a mate, he abhorred the matrilineal tradition of the gods. He vowed to seize power and change all of that. Under his rule, women would have no rights. They would become property, to be purchased and sold like cattle. Heredity would cease to be matrilineal, the chains of power would become patriarchal.
In his hatred and madness, Mortdh did the unthinkable; an atrocity so great that it shook the ancient world.
He murdered Khiann.
He murdered a god.
Savagely took the life of Annani’s one great love.
The laments sung to mourn Khiann’s passing and to grieve for the great love so tragically lost would become a ritual to be performed every year on the anniversary of his death.
