by Anna Carven
Occasionally, Esania and her girls had taken to bending the rules—when they could get away with it.
And now…
She threw those rules out the fucking window. The dress she wore was a bold sheath of deep, vibrant red—almost the color of human blood. It draped over one shoulder and left the other bare, cascading from neck to ankles in impossible waves of lustrous fabric. She wasn’t sure what the material was made from, but it felt incredibly luxurious.
One shoulder was left bare, revealing the stunning design that covered her entire left arm and extended all the way down her back. Imril’s elgida was like an intricate tattoo, only it was comprised of thousands of tiny scars that had faded to a shade of brown slightly darker than her natural skin tone.
Ritual scars.
She bore his mark.
According to the girls, it suited her.
She wasn’t sure what she looked like right now, but she felt good.
The Drakhin didn’t use mirrors, apparently. There wasn’t a single one on the entire planet.
“You look fucking beautiful,” Alessia beamed. “I have always wanted to dress you up in something nice, but you Primeans have your ridiculous dress code… I’ve never seen so much grey in my life. What a shame. A planet full of beautiful people, and you all choose to dress in the most boring way possible. This is much better.”
Esania had chosen the fabric from one of Imril’s many storerooms, and using some old-fashioned Earth skills—magic, really—Alessia had transformed it into something spectacular. Really, Imril had too much stuff lying around this vast eyrie of his, all of it sitting untouched since he’d left this place around three hundred years ago… since his people had succumbed to the horror of the Plague.
She shuddered. Imril never said much about what had happened, but sometimes she could sense his anger and sadness; a dark, seething thing that could turn dangerous if she wasn’t there to keep it in check.
It was a secret side of him that only she was allowed to see. To the outside world, he was the Overlord; powerful, inscrutable, and terrifying.
Esania sighed as she ran her hands over her dress, wondering how exactly she’d ended up in this glorious mess. Plucked out of the wild forests of the Ardu-Sai, her new surroundings were luxurious by comparison.
Everything in this grand eyrie was manufactured by the Naaga using highly advanced machines that humankind could only dream of—a legacy of Imril’s Auka father.
And the eyrie itself… stars, she’d never seen anything like it. After coming to an agreement with the Vradhu, Imril had given them Kunlo’s stronghold. It was theirs to guard and repair and live in for as long as they wished.
He’d brought her here, to Eleia, a dazzling construction of pink-hued stone that rose high above the brilliant blue ocean.
Some of the humans, including the mercenaries, and to her surprise, Rachel, had stayed behind, preferring to stick with the Vradhu. But most of them had chosen to follow her here.
“Why the serious face, S?” Sara sat on an ornate footstool that had a padded seat of black velvet-type material and curved ivory legs. Being seven months along, her pregnant belly was round and full now, and according to Raphael, the Medusa’s enigmatic former navigator—who somehow knew a little bit about human medicine—her size was consistent with dates.
That was good. The bub was kicking and active and Sara’s terrible nausea had passed, and they were safe in Imril’s spectacular castle.
Enough of this eyrie business. It was a castle; a big, spectacular castle, something right out of an ancient Earth fairytale.
“I was just thinking,” she said quietly, “about whether I did the right thing… I mean, the way we all got off Mars…”
“What?” Both Alessia and Sara stared at her as if she were mad.
“Listen, mama wolf,” Sara growled, her expression turning fierce. “You’re not even allowed to say things like that.”
“Mama wolf?” Not knowing whether that was a good or bad thing to be called, Esania made a face. “I’m not that much older than you, Sara.”
“Yeah, but you looked out for us when no other Primean would have given a rat’s.” Sara stared out the window at the dazzling ocean, her blue gaze becoming distant. “You know, at some point, I wanted to try and figure out how to terminate the pregnancy on Mars without anyone knowing. I hated Kivik. Hated that asshole. I was trapped. Couldn’t even leave the planet, because they would have found out about it on the exit medical.”
“What changed?”
“After the initial shock wore off, after I realized what was happening, I started to feel… I don’t know, different. It was like some sort of instinct came over me. Maybe it’s the so-called maternal instinct, I don’t know. The more I thought about it, the more I felt this baby was a part of me, a precious thing. How could I have even thought of… anything else?” Sara paused, and Esania realized she was blinking away tears. She wiped at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “Sorry. Damn pregnancy hormones all over the place. I get so emotional.”
“Don’t apologize,” Esania murmured, completely transfixed by Sara’s confession. “There’s no need.”
“It’s probably the only chance I’ll get in this life to have a child. I don’t care if Kivik is the father. This is my baby, and you know what? I know what the law is in the Serakhine. You crazy-ass Primeans think you’re so far above humans that you can just swat us away like flies, but—”
“I don’t think that you’re inferior.” The words were out of Esania’s mouth before she could even think. Disgust rose up inside her as she thought of the Serakhine’s insane laws. And to think there was a time when she’d actually accepted that kind of thinking.
If her mother had accepted it, she wouldn’t even be here.
“I wasn’t talking about you. You’re normal. You’re the reason we’re all here and not dead or slaving away on some mining colony on Kalluq-3. When the girls found out about it, they all convinced me to tell you the truth. They said you were different, that you wouldn’t buy into that crap.” Sara turned on her side and curled up into a ball, hugging her knees. “They said you’d help. I was terrified at first, but they were right about you. You’re all right, Esania.”
Esania could only nod as she remembered the frantic night they’d escaped from her villa, aided by an underground group within the Serakhine known only as The Source. Would she have done the same if her mother hadn’t come to her several days before and revealed the truth about her birth?
Guilt coursed through her.
I’m not as noble as you think, Sara.
A faint tremor shook the walls and floor, followed by another dull boom. Whatever was out there, it wasn’t relenting.
Hurry up and get back here, Imril. We need you.
“You know, I’m glad we made it here,” Sara said quietly as the eerie silence of the cavernous chamber settled around them once again. “I’m glad we got out of the Serakhine. I’m glad we crashed on this crazy planet. Better being alive here than dead on Mars. We’re probably the only humans who’ve ever set foot here, you know?”
“I-I’d never thought of it like that.”
“Isn’t that something, huh?” Sara’s voice trembled slightly. “You know, I never got the chance to thank you.”
Esania shifted uncomfortably, not used to such familiarity from humans; not used to small pleasantries like thank you. And she wasn’t used to the warm, fuzzy feeling that spread through her chest, even as the world closed in on them.
“So, Esania, thanks. For everything.” Sara sat up and met her gaze. “I fucking mean that.”
Esania blinked furiously. Were her eyes a little too moist? Tears? This feeling… what was it called? She’d never experienced it before. “You can thank me when we’re all safe,” she murmured, trying to hide her emotions, thinking of Calexa and her crew and the girls and Rachel, praying to Mars that they were all going to be okay.
Beyond this crumbling fortress in the middle of t
he wild forest, there had to be something better out there, a safe place where they could exist without constantly having to look over their shoulders.
And if it didn’t exist, she would create it.
“All done.” Alessia, who had been silent the whole time, fastened something around Esania’s neck and stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “You’re stunning, hun. The big, scary Drakhin isn’t going to know what hit him.”
“I…” I hope so. Today was an important milestone in the making of her elgida. The intricate markings on her skin had grown over the past two months, each line and swirl and flourish drawn with painstaking care and precision.
Every time he summoned her, every time he lay his hands on her bare skin, he infused a little bit of his power into her, binding them closer and closer together. The process was still excruciatingly painful, but at the same time, she found it maddeningly erotic.
When she had reached her limit, when pain gnawed at the very limits of her endurance, he would go down and give her the most mind-blowing head, and through some serendipitous quirk of biology, her vir was actually more delicious to him when she was aroused, so he had extra incentive to keep her happy down there.
And that was just the foreplay. They hadn’t even fucked yet. She, the educated virgin, who knew so much but had experienced nothing, had been completely undone by this intense, irresistible alien.
“’Hey, Esania?”
“Yes, Alessia?”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not,” she protested, even though she knew it was true.
“I don’t blame you,” Alessia said, a sly smile curving her cherry-red lips—where the woman had found a substance similar to lipstick on this wild planet, she had no idea. “He’s very handsome, for an alien. All those muscles, those exotic looking eyes, those wicked wings…”
“Alessia,” she snapped, feeling embarrassed and jealous and proud all at the same time.
Sara snickered.
“Just admiring from afar. I wouldn’t even dream of being in your shoes, hun. He’s far too much of a scary alien for my liking.”
“You’ve got nothing to fear from him.” Now she felt defensive of her mate. “He’s been nothing but good to us since we came under his protection.”
“Of course. I’ll just keep my distance anyway, because you know, the vir and all that. Honestly, it creeps me out. You and you are probably the only ones crazy enough to take on a pair of Drakhin.”
“Hey, for as-yet unknown reasons, Mael came after me,” Sara growled.
“And hasn’t been seen since.”
“He has good reason for that.” A dangerous glint came into Sara’s blue eyes. “Don’t you start making assumptions about—”
Esania took a step forward to intervene, but Alessia threw up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. None of my business, I know. Look, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I’ve just had bad experiences with guys who don’t stick around.”
“You’re assuming that I actually want anything to do with him in that way. I don’t. But he’s different to how the stories make him out to be. Misunderstood.” Sara put her hands on her belly, wincing. “God, this little one’s really got a kick on him. Ouch! Settle down, little dude.”
“Dude?”
“It’s a he. Mael said so.” She beamed, then winced. “Ugh.”
“I’m not even going to try and understand how he knows that without some sort of medical scan.” Alessia looked a little spooked. “I guess this is just…” she shrugged, “the new world, huh?”
“The new world,” Esania agreed, taking a few steps forward on bare feet. Her crimson dress swayed against her legs, making her feel… sexy.
Ha.
Imril was going to go nuts.
This whole thing—dressing up, doing her hair, making herself look nice for him—it was her idea. Today was the day the bond between them would become strong enough.
After months of excruciating temptation, they could finally be together.
Properly.
Just the thought sent a thrill of excitement down her spine and a surge of warmth into her pussy. She took a deep, quivering breath. “I’m going.”
“Enjoy,” Sara said. “It’s good to see you like this.”
“Like what?” Esania glanced over her shoulder as she passed through an elegant curving archway.
“You actually seem happy.”
“Huh,” Esania whispered under her breath. It had only taken a trip to a wild, uncharted planet from there was no escape for her to feel this way.
Happy.
Who would have thought?
Chapter Forty-Seven
He sat in his grand throne, unblinking, unmoving, his wings curled behind him, golden eyes blazing.
A sight to behold.
Imril could have been a statue for all Esania knew, and yet here he was, living, breathing, and ancient.
A golden glow surrounded him; she could see it so much better now, and her elgida throbbed in response, her body yearning to join with his.
On the threshold, she paused.
Beneath them the waves crashed against the vast foundations of the eyrie, the rhythmic, seductive sounds lulling her into a kind of trance.
Esania drank in the scene before her, feeling as if she were in the midst of some fantastic dream. Imril’s command room was spectacular, a study in vastness and light and elegant lines.
In comparison to Kunlo’s eyrie, Imril’s stronghold was surprisingly minimalist. There were no ornate carvings or statues or brilliant patterns inscribed into the ceilings. The lack of embellishment was a statement in itself—he didn’t need to try and impress with lavish displays of wealth. Imril’s supreme power had been undisputed.
And now there was nobody to challenge him, because apart from Mael, all the Drakhin were dead or gone.
Imril’s throne was massive. Made of ivory stone, it had a high, curving back that dipped outward to accommodate his pale wings. Broad armrests stretched down to the polished floor, seamlessly joining the reflective surface.
It was a fluid, organic thing, designed to frame but not outdo the man sitting in it. But then what could outshine Imril, who wore his power so effortlessly, who drew attention to himself without even realizing it?
“Esania,” he growled, his deep voice echoing through the vast chamber, sending a thrill of anticipation down her spine. He held out his hand, beckoning her. Come.
Her heartbeat went into overdrive. She walked forward, her bare feet silent on the cold stone floor.
This is it.
There was no turning back now.
As if drawn by some irresistible force, she stepped into his radius, that invisible circle where he could tap into her energy. For all his flaws and vulnerabilities, for all his mistakes, he was still half Auka, and she’d since learned that the Auka were possibly the most terrifying beings in existence in the entire Universe.
Ancient beings, older than the Earth and the sun, the Auka had discovered the secret to immortality.
They had transcended physical existence.
They were gods, or perhaps monsters, and their dark, magical blood ran through Imril’s cerulean veins.
“You,” he rasped, desire rolling off his body in waves. “You look incredible, my lukara. I… I wasn’t expecting this.”
Suddenly aware of the power she held over him, Esania smiled as she reached him, placing her hand into his. A surge of golden energy flowed from his fingertips and danced up her arm, sending liquid fire through the intricate markings on her body.
The patterns lit up, turning golden, as if someone had filled them with skeins of electricity.
His power, which came from her, spread through her body, and it was pure ecstasy. She felt lighter, younger, more alert, each sound and sight and sensation coming to her in crystal clear detail.
It felt as if she’d been given a shot of some highly addictive narcotic. She stared down at Imril and drank him in, hardly believing that this po
werful, dangerous man was all hers.
Being close to him no longer drained her. Every time she was in his presence, he gave her an injection of his power, and it filled her elgida. Channelled through the symbols and patterns of the song, his energy turned into life itself.
Esania was the Source of raw vir, nothing more. Imril drew it into his body and converted it into something else entirely. He was the catalyst, producing a reaction that defied all logic and science—something that Raphael had tried to analyze, only to fail miserably.
Esania had a word for what he did—for what he was.
Magic.
Imril was a sorcerer.
She didn’t completely understand him or what exactly he was—she probably never would—but Esania didn’t care. Imril had kept his word, and since they’d returned from Ton Malhur, he’d treated her with nothing but patience and tenderness, showing a very different side to him.
Her incessant questioning… he found it entertaining.
Her constant need for rules and structure… he was amused by it.
And her obsession with protecting her tribe… he admired it.
“Well, today is special. I wanted to surprise you.”
He cocked his head, dark eyebrows rising questioningly. “This is your Primean custom? To dress in such a way?”
“Not Primean. Dressing up… is very much a human thing.”
“So are you human, or Primean?”
“I’m both.” She edged closer and closer, until Imril took her hand and dragged her into his lap. He wore nothing but a simple robe; a swath of cloth that revealed the broad muscles of his chest, tapering to a vee over his well defined six-pack.
Actually, it was more of a ten-pack, if one wanted to be specific. Since Imril was a Drakhin and all Drakhin were actually half-Vradhu, his physique was almost identical to the powerful bodies of the violet-skinned warriors, except he had the added advantage of those glorious pale wings.
He was ripped, as Sara might say.
“Well,” Esania said slowly, sliding around in his arms until she felt his very conspicuous erection against her thigh, “what do you think?”
