Cinder and Char

by Angelique Voisen

  "My homeworld is not all wilderness," Char remarked.

  He reached over the space between them and placed his hand possessively across Cinder's wrist. Feeling Cinder's pulse leap to the surface of his skin at his simple touch, Char let out a guttural sound. He heartily approved of the way his mate's attention was now centered on him and him alone.

  "We shifters do keep up with the changing times. Beyond the rural towns and villages there are more modern cities closer to the capital where we’ll be staying.”

  Char stroked the tender bit of skin thoughtfully for a few moments, enjoying the sound of Cinder’s uncomfortable whimper.

  “Admittedly, we’re a little behind on fashion since we don’t require clothing when we’re in our bestial forms, but there are a few shops for tourists.”

  Char wasn’t sure why Cinder’s body suddenly stiffened. Before his mate could draw away from him, Char tightly grasped the other man’s wrist and lifted it to his mouth. His beast edged closer to the surface of his human skin, forcing Char to open his mouth at an obscene angle.

  To his relief, Cinder didn’t draw away.

  Char’s tongue darted out and he began to lick at Cinder’s skin. Damn, the other man’s scent and taste drove him mad. His skin had a nice mix of sweet sweat, salt and faint traces of floral cologne Char now recognized. Char closed his eyes momentarily to enjoy the sensation of Cinder’s pulse jumping at the contact of his mouth.

  “Are you mocking my sense of style, Char?” Cinder demanded. “If you must know, I rank my dancing, my clothes, heels and accessories above men, even drop-dead gorgeous brutes who happened to be princes.”

  “I know, Cinder.”

  Char blew across Cinder’s skin, delighted by the other man’s shiver. He made sure his eyes were level with Cinder’s, so the other man could see the ferocity of the passion there.

  “I’m not going to get in between what you love, or even attempt to change you. When I said I want you, I mean I want everything of you.”

  Cinder let out a shaky breath. “I hate what you’re doing to me, Prince Char.”

  “Char. Just Char.” Char’s lips caught two of Cinder’s fingers. His mouth latched onto them and began to suck. “What are you so afraid of, Cinder?”

  “This strange and inexplicable animal magnetism I have for you.”

  If Char didn’t possess superhuman hearing, he wouldn’t have caught Cinder’s shameful admission. Slight fires of anger licked inside his belly. Didn’t Cinder know how much of an honor it was, to be mated to him? Both men and women shifters would give anything to be with him, but Char had a feeling Cinder wouldn’t be impressed with the knowledge.

  Char took a deep breath and culled his anger. He gripped Cinder’s face and forced the other man to look at him.

  “You’re mated to me, Cinder. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Confusion rippled across Cinder’s features, but before Char could continue explaining about what it meant to be mated to a shifter, one of his lieutenants interrupted their conversation.

  “Alpha, they’ve cleared our arrival on the main landing docks.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Char said, letting go of his willful mate.

  “Oh joy,” Cinder muttered under his breath, but Char chose to ignore him.

  The ship began its smooth descent, piercing seamlessly through the planet’s cerulean sky. The sight of his green homeworld made the longing in Char’s heart cease aching. It had been too long since he'd last set foot on his own planet. Char couldn’t wait to feel the earth under his paws or breathe the untainted fresh air of the land as wind rippled across his fur.

  The ship cruised past the dense forest terrain and began sweeping past the cluster of cities circling the capital. Cinder leaned in close to the windows again. Char chuckled under his breath. He was too amused by the glare his little mate gave him.

  Soon enough, the ship landed on the airship dock reserved for the ruling members of Clan Charming.

  Char expected to see the rest of his lieutenants waiting for his arrival and some of the wolves of his clan. Knowing his mate might be overwhelmed, he’d specifically requested a small receiving party, but it wasn’t the uniforms of his private guard awaiting them.

  Hard, scarred, and unfamiliar shifters wearing the wrong colors trained laser assault rifles at them. The shifters were wearing green, his younger brother Ulfric’s colors.

  He could feel the uneasiness of his men and their growing aggression as they formed a protective shield around him and Cinder. Char had grown up and trained with each one of them. He knew they’d give their lives for their alpha in a heartbeat, but they were sorely outnumbered and he didn’t want them to die unnecessarily.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Char demanded.

  Ulfric Charming, second in line to the throne, dislodged himself from his guards and waved a lazy greeting. Ulfric was similar to him in looks, build, and size. They were always mistaken for twins, but their physical appearance was where their similarities ended. Ulfric would resort to anything, including dishonoring himself and the clan, to obtain power.

  “Welcome home, brother. You departed in such a hurry you left the clan open for a take-over.”

  “If Father were still here—-”

  “Keep up with the times, Char. After Father died, you instantly left on a foolish quest across the galaxy to find your mate. Did you expect we’d all wait here patiently like meek lambs for your return?”

  Char let out a silent curse. He’d never gotten along with Ulfric, but he thought they had gotten past their competitiveness and animosity during the past year when they had to work together while their father was dying. They even found some measure of peace after uncovering several political schemes from rival clans who intended to overthrow their ruling clan—or so Char thought.

  Ulfric’s betrayal stung, because he’d been deceiving himself in thinking he and his brother could work out their differences and rule Woof together.

  Char also didn’t like the way his brother’s leering eyes finally rested on Cinder.

  “The little terran clinging to you—is he your mate, brother?”

  Protective instincts swept over him when he felt Cinder clutching at his arm.

  “Cinder isn’t part of this, Ulfric. If you want to arrest me and my men, then arrest us, but let Cinder go.”

  Char knew he'd said the wrong words, because Ulfric’s smirk grew wider, showing sharp rows of canines. “Why would I do such a thing, brother, when I can use your mate to keep you in line?”

  Char and the beast inside him growled as one. Ulfric could do with him as he pleased. His brother could torture, main and execute him for all he cared, but involving Cinder was crossing the line. He could feel the rest of his wolves reacting to his anger. They were primed and ready for a fight as he was. The slender fingers on his bicep tightened in warning, making him remember Cinder was still beside him.

  “Don’t do it, Char. You’ll die,” Cinder hissed.

  “This is our way, Cinder. You knew how it was going to be when you mated a shifter.”

  “Well, isn’t this stupid? Are you really just going to let your asshole of a brother get the better of you, and kill you and your men in the process?” Cinder went on, undaunted by his snarl. “I mean sure, it’s touching that you’re all manly and protective of me, but if you’re dead, what will that achieve?”

  Char glowered at his mate, but his human brain recognized the logic there. Slowly, his human half regained control.

  “Alpha, orders?” Gunter asked.

  “Cinder’s right. Stand down,” Char ordered.

  Ulfric looked surprised for a moment, then mocking laughter bubbled out of him. “Who could ever imagine my ferocious warrior brother rendered weak and soft? The heir to the throne, whipped by a terran boy.”

  Cinder threw Ulfric a severe and withering look of contempt and disdain only he was capable of. “Well, excuse me, Mister Traitorous Bastard. Char is twice the m
an and shifter you’ll ever be.”

  Char couldn’t help but be both amused and proud of his sassy mate.

  “You insignificant little terran shit,” Ulfric growled. “Be careful of your next words, or I might just decide to eat you for supper.”

  Cinder slipped a slender private vid screen from a compartment in his tight fitting, silver full-bodysuit.

  “Unfortunately, according to the Ever-after Galaxy’s Inter-planet Accords, which your planet is part of, you have to treat political prisoners with some degree of civility.”

  Char wasn’t sure why Cinder always carried the Ever-after Galaxy’s interplanetary handbook in his vid, but he was grateful for it. His mate had quoted from the same damn book about some kind of employment law or some sort when Char bought him from Sulli.

  “What nonsense are you spouting?” Ulfric thundered.

  “I’m afraid the terran’s right, Prince Ulfric,” mouthed Ziri, one of the aged advisors who used to council his father.

  It took some time for Ulfric to calm down, but by the time his men restrained Char and his men, he looked like his normal self again.

  “Fine. Then let them rot in the palace dungeons for all eternity.” Ulfric leered at Char. “How’s that sound, brother? I’ll place you and your mate in side-by-side cells. How will it feel, knowing your mate’s so near, but you’ll never touch or see him again?”

  Howling and shaking with unsurpassed rage, Char nearly lost it then. Before his wolf managed to surge through the surface and tear apart his human skin, a stunner was jabbed at his ribs. The sharp sting of electricity rendered his entire body numb. Char could only helplessly watch as Cinder was torn from his side. His feisty mate fought his captors, but he was easily subdued.

  Curse this. He hated feeling helpless and useless. Char couldn’t even protect his mate, much less his own people. Ulfric’s words haunted him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, knowing a mere wall separated him from his mate.

  Hadn’t he promised Cinder he’d show him a new and better world where he didn’t have to dance for credits? All Char had ended up doing was shoving his mate into a cramped and dank cell.

  Chapter 4

  Cinder beheld the only comfort object he’d managed to salvage with a sigh. He began to turn the glass stiletto over and over his hands, glad to have kept the gorgeous heels under his clothes when they were captured. Although honestly, how Ulfric’s men hadn’t seen them was beyond him. Cinder was careful when he took out the shoes, only bringing them out when he knew no one looking, for fear they might be confiscated.

  They were the only little beam of sunshine in his dreary stone prison. What century did the shifters think they were living in? Their dungeons looked right out of a medieval terran book. Even his homeworld’s government had better taste than this.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been imprisoned, but he was frightened for the state of his sanity. He hadn’t had a bath in ages and his once-favorite sexy silver bodysuit was reduced to rags. Cinder grudgingly realized he was a creature of comforts and without his accessories, clothes, heels, dancing, and his Char, he was going to go slowly insane.

  “Hold on a damn second. My Char?” Cinder echoed his thoughts out loud. “The last thing I want is a man who’s responsible for landing me here in the first place.”

  His hands—his un-manicured hands, mind you—tightened on the glass heels. Why couldn’t Char have been besotted with another stripper? Why did it have to be him?

  Cinder had been content in his own little world, doing his little dances and accumulating his vast collection of heels, but no, Char had to barge in his life and ruin everything.

  “Much good you did me, Prince Char. Oh wait, you aren’t a prince anymore, are you?” Cinder muttered bitterly.

  Now he couldn’t even dance. Or could he? He still had one pair of heels, didn’t he?

  Cinder dragged himself away from his hard wooden plank and peeked out the bars of his cell. He looked left and right. The corridor was empty. The guards were probably changing shift. Only the lighted torches in their sconces and the occasional growls coming from some of the imprisoned wolves greeted him.

  Char was abnormally silent in the cell beside his, for which Cinder was glad. He wasn’t sure how many languages the man was capable of cursing in.

  “When life throws you lemons, make lemonade,” Cinder declared to no one. He eased his dirty feet into the glass heels, wincing as the glass took on more smudges.

  “Ah, my little beauties. You feel good.” Cinder sighed like a man in throes of a slow and wonderful lovemaking.

  It occurred to him this was the first time he’d worn the heels and they felt damnably right, like they were made especially for him and him alone. It was a ridiculous thought really, because he recalled Char saying the “artifact” was passed from one shifter heir to the next and shifters had big feet.

  The depressing walls of the cell fell away as Cinder closed his eyes. He visualized a grand stage, someone calling out his name, and some catchy music starting. Music he could strut and sway his hips to.

  Dancing was like riding a bike, in Cinder’s opinion. A true dancer could never forget his moves. Cinder hummed under his breath as he spun across the dusty floor.

  “This is as good as it gets,” he murmured. He felt unbelievably light on his feet.

  Cinder noticed he was spinning faster and faster, and he began to suspect his movements were out of his own control. Cinder wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but the heels felt like they were alive, like sentient beings. One heeled foot sank deep into the stone floor, hissing and spitting smoke, but Cinder didn’t feel any pain.

  Closing his eyes again, he found his answer. Generations of memories that didn’t and couldn’t possibly belong to him flooded into his mind, each one more vivid than the last. Cinder breathed hard and his heart raced. He saw the nude, hard and sun-kissed body of the first werewolf alpha when Planet Woof was young, wild and untamed.

  Cinder also saw the alpha’s mate, a lost and confused terran explorer whose shuttle and crew lay in pieces on the jungle ground. Lewd images of their fierce mating came to him, as well as hundreds of other images of other pairings. But it wasn’t just matings he saw. He saw a slew of shifter princes losing wars, winning wars, and eventually uniting all the clans of their planet under one banner.

  What ensured their victories wasn’t their battle prowess or leadership. It was the knowledge of their mates standing behind them like unyielding shadows. They all fought hard, knowing that after the bloodshed and strife, they’d be coming home to the comforts of their home, mate and offspring.

  “Damn, Char.” All his anger and frustrations at Char began to ebb away. None of this was the prince’s fault, although Char still deserved a whack or two in the head.

  He took several deep breaths and allowed the rich and long history of Char’s planet to consume him. Cinder suddenly knew what to do with the heels. They hadn’t been heels before. No, what were now shoes had taken one form or another during the centuries, adapting and changing to the needs of the rightful ruler of the planet and his mate. Which was likely why Ulfric’s men hadn’t seen them, even through the skin-tight latex of his bodysuit.

  He pressed one heeled foot to the wall in front of him, to the wall diving his cell and his mate.

  Cinder could feel the unnamed and savage energy thrumming through the ancient artifact, and knew it was irrevocably and undeniably his. Just as he knew Char belonged to him and he belonged to Char. This was what it meant, he supposed, to be a wolf prince’s mate. Just a few weeks ago Cinder had been daunted by the prospect of carrying Char’s children, but he was beginning to soften at the notion of leaving behind a legacy. To have little Chars and little Cinders running about, changing from wolf to mortal, was it really so bad?

  The glass heels channeled pure kinetic force against the wall, and began to undo foundations of cement and stone. Cinder managed to distance himself just as the entire wall beg
an to shake and crumble. Char’s shocked expression stared back at him from the enormous hole in the wall.

  “Hi, lover. I’ve come to rescue you. Miss me?” Cinder asked.

  He placed one hand on his hip in a provocative and teasing gesture. Char seemed to miss all his sexy cues, because Char simply strode up to him and enclosed him in a near suffocating hug.

  “You’re going to cut off my air supply, you brute,” Cinder huffed. He softened when he caught sight of his mate’s worried yellow eyes.

  “How?” Char asked, nodding to the wall.

  “Magical heels, handsome.”

  Char looked down at the glass heels then at Cinder’s face. Familiar amusement appeared there. “Looks like our time apart has made you aware of how much you’ve missed me.”

  “Oh, you arrogant—”

  Char silenced him with a mind-numbing kiss. Despite the inappropriate situation, Char’s hands hungrily roamed under his clothes, as if they were eager to reacquaint themselves with the touch of his skin.

  The right thing was to tell his prince that now wasn’t the time for some sorely missed sex. Guards wouldn’t miss the sound of the exploding wall, but Cinder’s mouth was still held captive by Char’s lips.

  When Char began sucking and nibbling on his bottom lip, Cinder forgot for a second why he wanted Char to stop in the first place. They ground and thrust their bodies against each other and Cinder could feel Char’s thickening cock pressed against his belly.

  Cinder managed to tear his lips away with much effort. “Char, listen. We can do this another time.”

  Again, Char interrupted him. This time, Char thrust his tongue between his half-opened lips. Cinder tilted his head and opened his mouth wider to let Char tongue-fuck him. There was no use denying his desire any longer. Seeing the images of Char’s predecessors was a definite game changer and he had to admit he liked Char’s rough brand of possessiveness.