by Aline Ash
An idea pops into my head as we meander back toward the living room, but I don’t show my hand just yet. I stay for dinner, which is delicious as always, and then we move to the sofa. I can tell that he’s really making an effort to be conscious of my feelings and resistance this time, so I don’t shove him away when he plops down next to me close enough that our legs touch.
“I want you to know that you are welcome in any and all these rooms any time you like, B’ecky,” he says softly.
“What?” I cough out, nearly choking on a sip of golden wine.
“You’ll find that the doors that lead from your rooms to mine will no longer be locked. Ever. You are as welcome here as I am. You’re right; it’s been highly unfair and restrictive of me to keep you confined to just your rooms. While safety and security mandate that the doors that lead out of these rooms must remain locked and guarded – there’s nothing to be done about that, that’s just what it is to be king – since your rooms connects to mine, from now on, those doors will be open to you to come and go as you please.
“I do truly want you to have as much liberty as is safely possible,” he continues. “And I understand that that’s not what you want; you want to be completely free and, ideally, back home with your family. But until I can successfully and safely achieve that goal for you, I can only do what I can. I hope that you see this gesture as what it’s intended to be.”
He takes my hand between his and it takes all my willpower not to completely give in to the desire I feel. Instead, I keep my walls up, but I try to soften just a little.
“Thank you, S’oraj,” I say. “That means a lot.”
“I’m glad,” he says. I can see he’s building up to asking for something, and I’m sure I know what it is. I don’t know if what I’m about to do is the right move, but with the idea I just had in his study a little bit ago, I need to make sure his guard is completely down, which is going to mean a bit of effort on my end.
“I was wondering,” he starts.
Just get on with it, man. The sooner we get through this part, the sooner I can stop having to fight back all these feelings that are making me want to just jump your damn bones.
“I was wondering if perhaps you’d allow me a kiss?”
There it is.
“S’oraj...” I start, but he interrupts before I can turn him down.
“If not, that’s alright,” he says, preempting my refusal to save himself more hurt. He’s really trying here. “But it would bring me great joy to be permitted a kiss.”
I make a bit more of a show about waffling over the decision than I maybe need to, but it seems like he’s eating up every second of it. “Alright, fine,” I finally say. “But just a kiss.”
His eyes light up like a kid at Christmas before he gets some control over himself again. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to mine, and oh my God it’s like lightning. The explosion of desire that goes off in the pit of my stomach is almost completely overwhelming. His fingers tangle into my hair, not aggressively, but just enough to send tingles down my spine. His other hand reaches out and caresses my thigh, and this time, I don’t stop him.
I let his hand wander farther and farther upward until he stops himself just shy of where I can tell he desperately wants to be. And it’s a good thing, too; if he keeps going, I don’t know that I’ll have the willpower to stop him. After some little while, he pulls gingerly away and asks, “Would you stay with me tonight? Join me... in my bed?”
Every ounce of my body wants to accept. The thought of feeling him inside me is overwhelmingly hot – hell, the thought of feeling any man inside me is tempting at this point. It’s been years and I’m starting to forget what anything other than my own fingers or my old battery-operated boyfriend feels like – but I manage to fight off that urge.
“I appreciate the offer, and that you’d ask in such a respectful way. But no. I’m sorry, S’oraj, but no.”
“Alright then,” he says, obviously doing his absolute best to stay calm and not throw another tantrum. “I understand. Then perhaps one last kiss before we both head off to bed?”
“Sure.” He kisses me with more passion and desperation this time, like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver, but he holds true to his word. Shortly after that, I’m back in my own room, alone, and finally able to let my guard down and nearly hyperventilate in the aftermath of the emotional labor I’ve just gone through. But the doors aren’t locked behind me and it feels like my plan worked. Tomorrow, I’ll find out for sure.
∆∆∆
The next morning, I force myself to get up particularly early and send K’tara out on an errand that will take at least half of the day. Once I know I’m alone, I listen at the doors until I hear S’oraj leave to go to court and begin his day. I wait a few extra minutes to be sure that he’s not coming back, then I make my move.
I had the idea the minute he showed me his study. His computer looked more or less like the one I’ve been playing around with over at L’arten’s house, and it was just sitting there, powered on, and looks like I’d have no trouble using it on my own. If it has access to the room’s security, I’ll be able to free myself and get the hell away from him before I simply can’t resist this pull any longer.
I sneak into the study and find that the computer is on, just like it was last night. I sit down at his desk and begin poking around. It doesn’t take me long to find a folder named “Security,” but when I try to open it, it asks for a password. I’m no hacker, but I’m also no slouch when it comes to a little tech wizardry. Try the obvious stuff first.
I type “Orean,” but it buzzes that the password is incorrect. Next, I try “S’oraj,” and, unbelievably, the folder unlocks and opens and within seconds I have full access to the entire security system for these rooms. Who uses their own name as a security code anyway?
I did it... Holy crap, I did it...Now what?
I stare at the screen with all its options and I freeze. Now that I finally have the chance to simply leave, the notion of doing it feels wrong for some reason. Whether it’s the fated mates thing or something in my gut that says this just isn’t the right time, for some reason I exit out of the folder and return to my own room, flopping down on the bed.
I can’t fall for this guy. That part is for sure. No matter what, getting back to my family is all that matters, so I can’t let him get in my way. But that doesn’t mean I have to leave right away. Just knowing I can escape whenever I like makes me feel much better somehow.
Chapter 8
S’oraj
Whatever takeaway B’ecky got from my most recent attempt must have put a crack in her walls, because for several taks subsequently, our interactions have become increasingly satisfying. She still won’t allow either of us to reach anything like true satisfaction – not even close – but at least she’s letting me a bit closer.
Each night I’ve invited her to my rooms for supper, and each night she’s allowed things to progress a bit further. After that first real allowance of a kiss, she seems to have softened to the idea that resisting all physical urges between us is a futile endeavor. I keep hoping that she’ll relax into what a wonderful thing this bond could be, but for the time being, I’ll simply keep chipping away.
The second night of supper in my rooms, as we retired to the sofa with our cups of wine, she put up almost no resistance to my initial advances, letting me kiss her fervently. It was only when my hands began to wander farther up her legs that she stopped me and retired to her room.
The next night it was a similar experience, but this time, she didn’t stop my hands from exploring her body. The little sighs of pleasure I got her to make were intoxicating to hear, and the feeling of her body, even still fully clothed, was spectacular. I feared pushing this too far, so I left it at that.
On the third night of this progression, however, her walls came down more than ever before. As I kissed her, caressing her body on the sofa, I adjusted how I sat so that I was upright on my kn
ees, pressing my chest against her back. My hands massaged her malus and, since she hadn’t stopped me yet, I risked pushing things further. I slithered my tail around to squeeze her inner thigh, and then let it search upward. When she didn’t stop me once again, I pressed the tip of it against her vush and, following the indications she gave me with her body language, rubbed her until her breath began to catch in her throat. It was only then that she pushed me away and escaped to her room once again, leaving me kneeling on my sofa, alone, erect, and frustrated beyond belief.
And now, as I dress for what promises to be yet another tak of this repetitive adventure – politics during the tak, sexual frustration at night – I’m fighting myself to keep focused on my planet and the war rather than allowing my attention to completely divert to her.
This is exactly what I’ve been afraid of! As I storm out of my rooms and toward the throne room, my mind is racing on what else I could possibly do to win her affection. If I don’t do something fast and soon, this distraction will consume me, and my planet will be doomed.
I fling open the doors to the throne room, where see V’orin and L’arten awaiting me, already engaged in a conversation with X’oran’s hologram.
“Commanders,” I say, joining them. They all bow, but I wave off the formalities. “Let’s get on with it. There’s too much to discuss to waste time on pleasantries.”
“As you wish, Majesty,” X’oran obeys. “As I was just telling the commanders before you arrived, the recent intel that we’ve picked up from Rax is that the weapon Fiari warned us about is indeed fully operational. Their threat to use it on Mon Alto would likely have been successful had we not escaped when we did. Their only delay has been transportation and timing. Obviously, canceling the gathering was a wise and strategic blow to their plans, but it seems that, while moving the weapon from the base on Rax is still proving difficult for them, the weapon itself could theoretically be fired any time they like.”
“And how are we coming on actually devising countermeasures?” I ask. This news is what I expected, but it’s still not good. If all the Raxians are waiting on is an opportunity to cause the most devastation possible, there is little we can currently do against such an attack.
“Not well, Your Majesty,” V’orin begins. “Fiari’s stolen plans have been invaluable to our preparations, but only go to show us just how remarkably unprepared we are to deal with an attack of this magnitude and nature. That said, L’arten?”
L’arten steps forward and opens a map on a separate holo-panel. “Thank you, Commander. The intel my krens have gathered puts the weapon at the main military base, here, on Rax. While we have not, as yet, found any viable defense, it is possible that, until it is able to be reliably moved, we could destroy it where it sits. Crush the egg in the nest, as it were.”
“If they can’t move it, they can’t use it,” I muse.
“Precisely,” L’arten agrees. “However, getting onto Rax and into the base would be insurmountably difficult. At this juncture, that’s the best recommendation I can make, but it would be a suicide mission at best, an abject failure at worst.”
The tension in the room is palpable. I’m frustrated and tired and still can’t get B’ecky’s resistance out of my head, but none of that is the fault of these krens here. They’ve done their jobs admirably and they deserve to know it.
“Thank you, Commanders,” I say. I discuss possible plans with them for a while longer before sending them on their ways to continue their work. My head is swimming and, unless I can clear it, I won’t be any use to anyone for anything, least of all for high strategy.
The tak drags on into evening, and for the first time in a turin I simply don’t have the energy left to attempt courtship over supper. I return to my rooms and move to throw myself onto the bed, but something catches my eye that causes my senses to snap back to full power instantly.
Why is the door to B’ecky’s room ajar?
I run to it and burst into her room, calling for her all the while. I try to keep my hope alive, but as soon as I saw that doorway cracked open, I already knew she would be gone. Once I’m sure that she’s nowhere in her, or any of my rooms, I return to my study and look through the security logs to see what might have happened. Once again, instantly, the answer reveals itself.
Clever girl. She must have been able to simply guess my access code to the security container, unlocking the doors and setting herself free. I’d be angrier if I wasn’t so impressed. But now she’s out, Oraj knows where, and in grave danger. If anyone working for Rax has figured out the link she and I share, if they get their hands on her, she’ll be so much worse off than she was here, and I’ll be powerless to save her. Drak!
I slam my fists down on the desk around the computer console. I have to admire the resourcefulness of letting herself out, but drak I wish she hadn’t gone and done this! Even still...
I have to admit that, while I’m angry with her for escaping and betraying my trust, the true culprit and transgressor has been me all along. If I hadn’t locked her up, if I hadn’t forced her to stay with me, if I’d listened to her and respected her wishes, all this could have been avoided. I’m the one to blame here.
I’m at a loss as to what to do. I sink back in my chair and, as it twirls slowly in circles, my mind meanders through every detail of the situation. No matter how I try to convince her that our bond is beyond our control, or how many ways I attempt to woo her, she rejects me outright time after time. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to break completely through those walls of hers, and the harder I try, the worse things seem to get.
But at the same time, she’s admitted to feeling the same way about me, and has even let some of my advances go forward. But at the end of the tak, she rejects me every time. She doesn’t make any sense! V’orin and X’oran were able to solidify their bonds with their S’ulin Karas almost instantly; why can’t I succeed in the same way?
I force myself to stand and get ready for bed, sure of at least the knowledge that she couldn’t have left the planet completely. Wherever she went, she would likely have had to go on foot. She’ll be nearby, it will just be a matter of finding her. But as I toss and turn in bed until the night is halfway through, I have to give in to my spinning head. I call to my serving kren and order him to pull together several small, discrete search parties who can fan out across the city to look for her.
Wherever she’s gone, I’ll find her. And when I do... Sons of Oraj, when I do, I still have no idea what comes next...
Chapter 9
Becky
What the hell was I thinking? I keep my head low as I move from one alleyway to another, making my way across the city of Orajal. How could I be so careless to let him get away with touching me like that? And why can’t I stop hoping that it’ll happen again? Dammit!
I dart from an alley, across a street, into another alleyway. I remember the way, more or less, so I’m fairly confident I’m still heading in the right direction. That said, I can’t help but wonder if any direction away from S’oraj is the wrong one...
But I couldn’t let things keep moving the way they’d started to! The absolute last thing I need is some weird, inter-species relationship tying me to this planet when the time comes to go back home to my family. I have responsibilities! And the more I let S’oraj get away with, the more he’s going to want. And the more I’m going to want, too...
The thought leaps into my head before I can even steady myself for it, but that gut feeling is overwhelming. The longer I stay with him, and the more intense our link grows, the harder it’s going to be to leave eventually. If he even lets me...
And that’s another thing! After the way he talked to me early on... That whole “I’m the king, I get what I want” speech... How am I supposed to trust that he’ll actually continue to respect my wishes? Hell, he’s barely respected my wishes up until now, why should I think that he’ll do any better in the future? He hasn’t given me any evidence to go on that he’ll actual
ly make me feel safe and trusted and respected. All he’s done is lock me up in a well-furnished prison cell and make advances toward me that, no matter how many times I tell him to stop, just keep coming.
Maybe that’s because you keep giving in because you don’t want him to stop. It’s like I’m having an argument with my own brain over mimosas at brunch. But once again, that impulse has too much validity behind it for my comfort. I do want him. I want his hands on me. I want to feel him inside me. I long for his kisses every day while he’s off at court being king and I’m stuck inside my room waiting for him to get back so we can have dinner and then, when the time comes, I can’t square these desires with what I know I need to be focused on: getting home to my mom and sister.
Dammit, why does all this have to be so hard?
I finally make it most of the way to where I think I remember a turn in the road, and as I come around the bend, I can see V’orin’s house. Perfect. I’ll be safe there.
I make my way up the long, winding driveway and hide myself in the bushes outside. I snap awake, realizing I’d dozed off in the cold of the night, as I see one of those hovering cars glide away from the house with V’orin behind the wheel. Good. That means Lisa and the staff will be alone.
I creep around the house, trying to remember the layout, and as I make my way to where the kitchen windows are, I can see one of the serving women making a tray of food. Lisa’s been on bedrest for the last few months because of complications with the hybrid pregnancy, so this woman must be taking food to her. I follow along, sneaking from shrub to shrub outside, until I can more or less figure out which window must be Lisa’s.
I wait a couple of minutes to be sure that the serving woman has gone, then I poke my head up and peek in. Sure enough, there’s Lisa, propped up on pillows, the tray of food over her bulging belly. I tap gently on the window, making my little knocks louder and louder until she finally looks up. When she sees me, she starts a bit, but recovers quickly. I urgently motion for her to stay quiet, but mime that she should have someone open the windows of her room for some fresh air. Once she understands what I’m saying, she presses a button on the side table and one of the household staff appears in seconds. After a moment, the windows are opened, and after a few more seconds, I hear her voice from my outdoor hiding place.
