The Golden Heart: Alliance Book One (Alliance Series 1)

by Jessamyne Hunter

  “Nothing is wrong with a boy who enjoys literature. They’re just children. No one would think they’d left the dining room for inappropriate things,” Chess’s father had said in a calm voice.

  President Samuel had seemed to consider it. He had smiled at Cindark and then nodded. But after they’d said goodbye to the Edean entourage, Kellan’s father had beaten the shit out of Kellan for embarrassing him. Kellan had behaved girly and unmanly; unseemly by leading the ambassador’s daughter away from the party and being alone with her. Kellan had made himself a disgrace to his family by letting people from another government know that he was such a precious flower. Kellan hadn’t understood the meaning of those words back then, but the disgust in his father’s face and the hits that had followed those words had spoken more than a thousand words to make him understand the sentiment.

  Kellan snapped out of his memories and let loose a deep breath when big hands came down on his shoulders to strip him of the last bit of clothing. He felt the heat of the other man behind him. Then Sartak’s huge and strong body pressed against his. He choked when the long, thick, hot and very stiff cock nudged his back between his shoulder blades. Wincing, he let himself be led to the bed. Sartak lifted him up effortlessly and laid him on the soft mattress. Still, he couldn’t breathe properly. His face was somewhere in the middle of the bed, facing the sheets. Kellan swallowed and clutched the ground, getting as much fabric into his hand, as possible. Parts of him reacted to his husband’s pheromones, but he was more afraid and saw the man behind him as a potential threat.

  Cold shivers ran down his spine when the mattress sank in further. He knew his chest was heaving, and his lungs were desperate for air, but he didn’t dare to make any sounds.

  Kellan wanted to cry when his legs were being spread. A hand came up on his side so Sartak could steady himself on the bed. The other hand, his husband, used to part his cheeks, and a moment later the huge head of the prince’s cock was nudging against his entrance. Kellan bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes closed. Nothing happened at first, but when his husband pushed in, forcing his enormous prick through Kellan’s tiny hole, he screamed soundlessly into the sheets. Hot tears shoot into his eyes, rolling over his cheeks and wetting the white fabric underneath him. Sobbing, he endured whatever Sartak was doing to him. He felt something inside his body opening up, but he didn’t care. Hot wetness ran down his legs and he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He had never felt such pain. He knew that Sartak was moving inside him, tearing his body apart. Now and then the pain grew, blackness clouding his senses, while bright stars danced around his sight. His muffled moans of pain went unheard by Sartak and he prayed to whomever that it would stop soon. When Sartak’s movements finally grew erratic, Kellan anticipated his husband’s orgasm, which fortunately came soon. He felt hot, tingling fluid being released into his body. Sartak was motionless for a while, then he rolled over, so he could lie next to Kellan. His husband placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

  What was Kellan supposed to think now? He didn’t want to sleep with his husband again, but something deep inside him felt strangely happy and at home lying next to this giant of a man.

  6

  Kellan’s eyes were heavy, but his mind registered loud shouts and hisses in a foreign language.

  He was curled up on an ottoman large enough it could have been a bed. Sometime during the night, when Sartak’s penis had softened and slipped out of Kellan, he had left the bed. He didn’t want to wake his husband with his sobs and cries. So he had gotten a large towel from the bathroom downstairs and a few rooms away he had found a living room of some kind. Kellan had dumped himself on the ottoman, swaddled in a towel and then fallen asleep.

  Right now he didn’t quite know what was going on. He guessed his eyes were red and swollen. He also felt sore in his throat and his heart ached painfully. His silent, grim man had hurt him last night, but his heart was craving his presence. Kellan was confused. He didn’t know Sartak. They had spoken only a few words. Still, the prince had vowed to take care of him, to love him and not hurt him. Even though it had been the words that were always used at a wedding, Kellan felt oddly betrayed. The act itself had brought him so much pain, but it faded compared to the pain in his heart. Did that mean Sartak didn’t like him? Did he not want him? He had seemed reluctant to do anything when they had been alone, and he hadn’t spoken a word to Kellan.

  Suddenly the door flung open, the handles banging against the wall.

  “KELLAN!” Sartak’s voice was full of panic as he rushed into the room, Jarvan right behind him.

  The kmer wore an expression of suppressed anger while the prince’s face was blank and colorless.

  Kellan thought that he had beautiful auburn hair and green eyes with golden sparks. His bronze skin was exotic and his scales were prominent with their dark bronze coloring and red edges.

  Sartak surged past him, almost overlooking his curled up body on the green ottoman. But when the prince turned around again, he finally spotted him.

  “Goddess! Kellan, you had me worried!” only seconds later he was down on his knees in front of Kellan.

  Sartak carefully stroked his hair and ran his clawed fingers over his cheek.

  “Kellan, please talk to me,” his voice sounded weak and hoarse.

  “Yeah, you better make amendments,“ Jarvan said leaving the two of them.

  Sartak didn’t pay attention to his kmera. He was more concerned with the wellbeing of his own kmer. Kellan seemed heartbroken and in pain. He said nothing, only lay there and looked at him with his swollen eyes. Sartak felt like an ass, like a fucking idiot.

  How could it have gone so wrong last night? He had done everything according to the instructions he had been given! Why had there still been blood on the sheets and on his penis? The warm liquid he had felt last night…he had mistaken it for the natural lubricant a kmer usually produces when being aroused. If he had known it was blood…

  He should have known by the scent of it. He should have known because Kellan hadn’t moved a bit. Sartak was supposed to have enhanced senses, but he hadn’t noticed it. How stupid could someone be to not notice that they were hurting someone else? Even through the scent of heat, he should have sensed the blood. How could his senses have failed him so badly? If he had known…

  Goddess, he would have stopped immediately. He had never wanted to hurt his kmeran and here he was, trying to fix things he had already managed to mess up on the first day of marriage.

  “Do you want to see a doctor?” he asked softly, but Kellan shook his head.

  Sartak sighed. He didn’t know what words he could say to make it better; to make clear, he honestly hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Making love shouldn’t hurt.

  He felt so helpless with Kellan lying there in resignation, gazing right through him. His silver eyes were filled with tears and hurt.

  “Do you want to apply the ointment yourself or should I do it? I believe you’d prefer I keep my hands off of you… Call me stupid, but I still don’t know what I did wrong. Your father-“ he didn’t get further because something he had said seemed to have woken Kellan up.

  His kmeran sat up straight and frowned.

  “My father? What has he told you?” Kellan sounded angry.

  Confused, he lifted a brow and frowned too, but still answered: “He told me how humans sleep with each other. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I asked. Shouldn’t I have done it?”

  While he had spoken, his consorts eyes had widened and he wasn’t so sure whether it was because he had done something wrong or because he had asked one of Kellan’s relatives. He knew it could be awkward, but Sartak was rather shameless about such things and questions.

  “Oh, of course! That bastard! Of course, he’d find a way to still humiliate and hurt me light-years away from him,” Kellan massaged his temples.

  “How so and why?” Sartak demanded to know.

  No one was allowed to hurt his husband in any way, not even his own family. Sartak wan
ted to know the meaning of this so he could react appropriately.

  Kellan seemed to have noticed the urgency and his mood because he vehemently shook his head.

  “It’s just…I overreacted. I’m not his favorite child. I believe he wanted to mock me. He probably thought it would only be a little uncomfortable. I don’t think he really wanted me to bleed all over your bed,” Kellan hesitated to calm his husband; his small hands gently touching Sartak’s arm as if to sway his mind.

  Sartak didn’t look convinced, but he kept his opinion on this to himself. Still, he couldn’t hide the scowl. He wouldn’t start a war over this. Even though he had the feeling that Kellan was lying to him about his father’s intentions, he had to wait until his kmeran asked him for help. For now, he would focus on gaining Kellan’s trust and love.

  They spent the rest of the day lazily in bed by mostly napping or reading- with new sheets of course.

  Both were dressed in light morning robes and played with Dershra now, who demanded all their attention. It seemed like the little beast had known that things between Sartak and Kellan were awkward, to say the least. Dershra gave them a reason to interact with each other and laughing about the little wyvern’s antics was breaking the ice enough for them to feel comfortable around each other- for now.

  Kellan was glad that he had allowed Sartak to help him a little with applying the ointment, even though it had been weird and so intimate, he had blushed the whole time. At the same time, the intimacy had felt right, and it had soothed his aching. Even though Sartak had stayed behind the room divider that had been nothing more than thick paper between a frame, it had felt like his husband had been standing by his side.

  The paper had been sheer enough for Kellan to see the silhouette of the other man. Sartak had awkwardly held the pot of ointment; only his arm sticking out from behind the screen.

  After Kellan had been done with applying the ointment, the Phy’vohranian had stepped out from behind the room divider and pulled him into a short hug that had made Kellan blush in bright red. He had only been half dressed; the side of his morning robe still stuck underneath the fold he had created while the sticky paste.

  Still, that hug had made him feel warm and cared for. Sartak had gently pulled the fabric down, so the robe had fallen the way it was supposed to.

  He felt a lot closer to his husband now, and he knew he’d never share such feelings and moments with anyone else. They’d share the rest of their lives together, and that was a long time since Kellan’s life was elongated now. He hadn’t known that earlier because nobody had told him. The alteration and the hormones would slow down the aging of his cells, which meant he had the lifespan of a Phy’vohranian now, which was about 170 to 200 cycles.

  The ambassador was still angry about the revelation earlier, though. Samuel had truly managed to ruin his wedding and his budding relationship with Sartak because Kellan couldn’t imagine sleeping with his husband anytime soon after that horrible wedding night. Still, he was relieved to know, that Sartak hadn’t hurt him on purpose, he just hadn’t known not to trust the president. Kellan wouldn’t say as much to Sartak; that was for sure. He still needed to figure out what his father was plotting if he was plotting anything at all.

  “You don’t talk much, do you? Earlier this day…if I’m allowed to make wild guesses…It was more words than you’d usually need to communicate in a whole day. Am I right? I’m an ambassador…so talking is pretty much what I do. Just tell me to shut up and I’ll stop my babble,” Kellan carefully traced the exposed skin of Sartak’s neck and chest.

  He awaited an answer, but instead, Sartak grabbed his hand and kissed the fingertips, making him giggle like a little high-school girl.

  “Do you think Gorsha would eat Dershra?” he asked.

  Kellan shrugged. He had no idea. Wasn’t Sartak supposed to know such things?

  “If you don’t know, I don’t know either. But in that case, I’m just not letting them play together…like ever,” Kellan said with a chuckle when Dershra gave him an anxious chirp while snuggling into his robe.

  Even though the marriage had started out as a diplomatic affair, neither of them wanted it to stay like that. Kellan wanted to give it his best shot and Sartak wanted it to be real too.

  Kellan felt the strange pull towards the Phy’vohranian man. He didn’t quite understand it yet- he didn’t need to. All he knew was that if he stayed, he might find out. He’d have a family and a man, who’d want him to stay, not demand it.

  He watched his husband fool around with the little wyvern, treating it like a pet dog. It looked strange, but the situation seemed so ordinary and mundane at the same time. Maybe Kellan could be happy here, just like his mother wished him to be.

  He was sure he could be friends with Sartak; he was already beginning to like him. And the rest of the royal family had welcomed him with open arms too. Kellan liked the palace and its surroundings; all the colorful robes and smiling faces; people laughed and danced whereas on the governmental ship there had only been serious faces and frowning upon lighthearted behavior.

  Kellan had been to other planets several times yet, but none had made him feel so calm. There had always been something terrifying. Oh, it was still terrifying here on Phy’vohran, but it felt different. Here, he had people who seemed to care for him. He believed that if he ever felt like the walls were coming at him, either Jarvan or Kohtah would cheer him up; maybe even drag him to the sunny places to ease his mind. He couldn’t see something like that happen on the governmental ship, and even though he had friends on his planet’s ship and other planets, he didn’t miss anything about those places. He’d miss Dershra, he’d miss Jarvan…

  Yes, he could be happy here. He just needed time to adjust. Maybe after he had unpacked his stuff and settled in…after his belongings had found a fitting place in their quarters…

  Oh shit! His belongings!

  “Err…Sartak? Where are the things I brought from the governmental ship?” he asked tentatively.

  The prince stopped mid-motion and frowned. He seemed to think about it for a moment, but then just shrugged.

  “I suppose they’re either in your dressing room or your private sitting room…behind the purple curtains. My rooms are behind the blue ones,” Sartak rolled on his side and leaned on his elbow, so he could regard Kellan’s face.

  The newlywed kmer felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew from experience that his face had the color of a tomato when it felt this hot.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked suspiciously, but Sartak gave him a toothy grin.

  “No. I just like to look at my beautiful kmeran,” with that Kellan’s husband left the bed and rearranged his robe, in which he looked kind of funny.

  The turquoise silk embroidered with birds and flowers was such a playful and elegant thing, it didn’t quite fit in with Sartak’s appearances. The big Phy’vohranian’s looks screamed warrior and the robe seemed a lot too tame and sweet on him. This man should wear bold or rich dark colors with less dainty embroidery patterns. Simple patterns and not too much of them should do the deed, but this colorful burst of peacocks and vines in blossom were quite exaggerated even for the most flamboyant courtiers.

  “I’d like to be there when my things will be unpacked,” Kellan said, looking away from his husband as he undressed from his morning robe, throwing it carelessly on a group of chairs next to the porch.

  The curtains were withdrawn and the sun was shining through the great arches, separating the room from the porch. The golden marble floor was warm, almost hot and it was recommended to wear slippers or any other kind of footwear.

  “Of course! You can do that whenever you want. I may help you if you want,” Sartak offered.

  That’d be nice. Kellan liked the idea of spending some more time with his husband and get to know him better, but…there were things in his luggage, that might not be appropriate to be shown to his Phy’vohranian husband.

  He imagined how Sartak would find exactly t
hose things. Kellan saw himself dragged in front of Leylos’s throne and testified for crimes that hadn’t been crimes back then. Sartak would sneer at him and never talk to him again. He’d be thrown into a damp, cold cell and abandoned there for good.

  The thought made him feel sick. He pictured the people who would watch him from the other side of the bars. He imagined their faces; the satisfaction in their expressions.

  This mess should better be sorted out now, so Kellan turned to Sartak. His heart hammered in fear, but there was no way he could hide this. He wanted, to be honest with his husband.

  Wartimes…it had been war. Maybe, Sartak had something similar in his possessions. Perhaps, he’d understand and Kellan wouldn’t be thrown into some cage as punishment.

  But to ease his mind, he had to grow the balls to ask first.

  “Have you ever killed a human and kept something that belonged to that human?” he asked bluntly.

  Kellan knew that question sounded weird, almost crazy, but he needed to know that not only he was a freak.

  Sartak, in the meantime, had donned a dark green tunic with a golden collar and seams and some black baggy trousers. He stopped slipping into his sandals and looked up from his place where he was kneeling on the floor.

  He met Kellan’s gaze with remorse and pressed his lips into a thin line.

  “Well…yes. I still have swords and medals. I never took their identification tags, though. I know ‘tis important to be able to tell who is who,” Sartak admitted, his voice husky and rough. “I can get rid of them if you wish so.”

  Kellan sighed. He didn’t want Sartak to feel sorry about this. He only wanted to know, whether he had kept stuff or not, because it would make his confession easier if he had.

  “No, keep them. It was another time, and if you defeated a general or colonel, I’m fine with it. I’m proud you were able to take down such a high ranking opponent,” Kellan searched for words; any idea how to tell Sartak what he might have brought with him from the governmental ship since he assumed that all his belongings had been packed due to his wedding and new life on another planet.