by Anna Carven
“Shut up!” Seph and Torin spoke at the same time, their voices merging into a single chorus of frustration.
Then, silence.
Relahek’s dark lips curved into a smug smile. Still facing away from her, Torin sighed. His shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly, as if in resignation. In a single swift movement, he sheathed his sword. How the hell does he do that without looking? The obsidian blade slid directly into its sheath, finding the tiny opening without any difficulty, as if it were an extension of Torin’s arm.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Relahek drawled. “Are you having second thoughts, monster? I thought your kind were supposed to be merciless.”
“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Torin leaned on Relahek’s chest with his boot.
“Aargh!” The noble coughed and spluttered. “W-what are you waiting for, Mardak? End me already.”
Torin bent down, pulled Relahek up by the front of his robes, and delivered a swift punch to the noble’s jaw. Relahek slumped into unconsciousness.
“Typical maddening noble,” Torin muttered, stepping off the Kordolian’s limp body. “Just doesn’t know his place.” He looked to his left, then to his right, taking in the fallen bodies of Relahek’s guards.
He swore profusely in Kordolian, and Seph couldn’t miss the deep anger in his voice.
Why?
She followed the direction of his gaze. The guards had met a vicious end; one had a stab wound right through his chest, the other bleeding out from a cut to his neck.
Black blood pooled on the floor like liquid ink, running into the plush carpet. As Seph inhaled the bitter stench of Kordolian blood, she was overcome with lightheadedness. Her vision wavered, and for a moment she swayed on her feet.
Not now!
She might be exhausted, sleep-deprived, and running on the whiff of the fumes of her adrenaline, but she was not going to faint here.
Not here, not now, not when Torin was dealing with some sort of weird internal conflict.
He was angry, all right, but at who? Relahek? Her?
Himself?
He turned to her with a face full of thunder and fury, but when he captured her gaze, the storm slowly dissipated. “I told you to stay back there.” Although his expression was stern, his voice was tempered with softness.
Slowly, Seph walked toward him, fighting to remain steady. “I’m sorry. I heard you shout. You sounded… not your usual self. I was worried about you, that’s all. ”
Torin shook his head as he stared down at Relahek. “You follow your own mind to do what you think is right, even if it means you will sometimes put yourself in danger.” He seemed to be quoting someone. “I was on the verge of… You just saved his life, Persephone.”
“That’s… uh, I don’t know how I feel about that. He’s a nasty piece of work, isn’t he?”
“A Kordolian,” Torin muttered, as if that explained everything. “As were they.”
Just like you.
Something clicked in Seph’s mind. “You’re mad because you were forced to kill them. You didn’t want to, did you?” She searched his face for answers. His features had become a little sharper, a little more gaunt.
“They just don’t listen,” Torin hissed. “I warned them, and they ignored me, and now they’re dead, and he’s alive.”
Only just.
Torin’s savage punch had completely knocked out the noble. Relahek lay in repose like some sort of slumbering demon. Amazingly, his cruel face softened in sleep, giving him an ethereal appearance.
Beauty could be so deceptive.
“Let’s get out of here, Seph.” Torin bent down and effortlessly lifted Relahek’s limp body, throwing the noble over his shoulder. As the Kordolian’s head and arms swayed, his elaborate jewelry clinked and the voluminous sleeves of his black robes fluttered. Long white hair trailed across the floor. “It’s a good thing I didn’t kill this idiot, because we need him for questioning.” Torin made a face, his expression landing somewhere between awkwardness and irritation. “Interrogation has never been my strong point. I’d probably accidentally kill him. No, we have experts for that sort of thing. I’ll leave it to them.”
“We? Who exactly are we?” Still feeling unsteady, Seph followed Torin as he left the bloodstained room behind. “Torin, you were after this man from the start, weren’t you?”
“His capture is necessary, but incidental. Please don’t ever think that you’re secondary to anything. As soon as I saw you, I couldn’t think of anything else. I just wanted to get you out.”
Oh. And just like that, she fell a little bit deeper under his spell.
Chapter Fourteen
They found Parrus in the other room. When the Veronian saw Relahek slumped over Torin’s shoulder, he yelped, his markings turning vivid pink. “Bastard. S-serves him right,” he said quietly, shuffling out of the way as Torin unceremoniously dumped Relahek on the long footstool. He removed a fabric belt from the noble’s robes and set about tying the man’s wrists together underneath the bench. Relahek’s head tipped, his long hair swaying, and Seph saw the whites of his eyes as they rolled back.
If not for the steady rise and fall of the Kordolian’s chest, she would have thought he was dead.
“Guard your former master, for a while, Parrus. You won’t let me down, will you, chichin?”
“No, Master.” Parrus’s voice held a note of wonder. He squatted on his haunches right in front of Relahek, aiming his plasma gun at the Kordolian’s head.
“Don’t kill him now, Parrus. I know the thought might be tempting, but we need to crack open that vault in his mind and take away his secrets.”
“I understand. He has many of those.”
“Then you will guard my captive well, won’t you?”
“I won’t take my eyes off him.”
“You won’t move from this spot, will you, Parrus?”
“No, Sir.”
“And apart from the main entrance, is there any other way in or out of these quarters?”
“N-no, Sir.” Parrus’s markings glowed blue, then violet.
“Good. Now where is his dining chamber?”
“Take the left inner corridor. At the end there is a lift that goes to the upper deck. There you will find his sleeping quarters, dining chamber, and sanitation facilities. If you want, I can show you—”
“We’ll find it.” Torin waved him away. “Who remains of Relahek’s retinue?”
“There is one other like me. That person has probably gone into hiding. Y-you will not harm my colleague, will you?”
“As long as they don’t make any moves against me or my female, I have no reason to hurt them.”
My female.
Ba-BOOM. Seph’s heartbeat exploded.
Unexpectedly, Torin grabbed her wrist, the one where she wore her link-band. The guide-light flared, illuminating his face from below. How intense he looked right now. Crimson eyes glowed like bright rubies, and his silver skin gleamed. How fierce. How utterly alien. “Persephone, come with me.”
Once again, he stole another little piece of her soul.
Could this be…
Without question, she followed, completely entranced by this man.
Yesterday, if someone had told Seph she would happily follow a lethal Kordolian warrior into the unknown without question, she would have laughed in their face.
Today, she didn’t bat an eyelid.
God, I am officially screwed.
Really, how she wished that were the case.
Chapter Fifteen
The elevator doors snapped open, revealing a long room with a grand dining table in the center. Made from a single massive piece of Jentian stone, it gleamed brilliantly as Seph’s wrist-light shone across it.
For a moment, Torin’s eyes hurt.
Fucking Relahek. The thing must have cost a fortune. Clearly, the noble didn’t want to let go of past glories. He wanted to live as grandly on this ship as he had on Kythia.
They stepped
out of the elevator.
The doors snapped shut.
And all rational thought fled from Torin’s mind, because for the first time since he’d caught sight of her, he and Persephone were somewhere safe and quiet and all alone.
Finally!
And the scent of her arousal was driving him nuts. Had been, ever since he’d detected it.
“Torin, who the hell are you?” She turned to face him. Eyelids fluttered. Pink lips gleamed. Her heady aroma surrounded him, and he almost lost control right then and there.
But something made him pause.
Dark circles cradled her eyes, and he caught the occasional wobble in her footsteps. He had to find them something to eat soon, because his nanites were hungry, and that wasn’t good for fighting, and as for Persephone… well, she looked tired.
And yet…
Her curiosity burned right though him, making him want to lay himself bare and tell her everything.
Who the hell are you?
Sometimes, he feared even he didn’t know the answer.
“I was a soldier,” he said at last, because that was the truth and the simple explantation. “Ex Imperial Military, First Division. I was part of the team that made first contact with Earth, under the command of General Tarak al Akkadian.”
“You were one of those…” Her eyes widened. “But the Empire is no more. Does that mean you’re now—”
“A mercenary. I fight because I choose to.” Because it’s all I’ve ever known.
“Are all Kordolian soldiers like you? I mean, with the healing and the magic armor and…”
Torin laughed softly. “Perish the thought. We would have destroyed half the Universe by now. No, my kind are—were—confined to a single division.”
“The First.”
“Yes.”
“And exactly how many divisions are—were—there in the Imperial Kordolian Military?”
“Before the Empire fell, there were eighty one thousand, seven hundred, and sixty-three.”
“And how many soldiers made up a division?”
“The number varied, depending on the division. Some were thousands strong. The one I belonged—belong—to is comprised of ten members.”
“Ten… huh. And you were in the First?”
“I was. Am.”
“And what does that mean, to be in the First?”
“To answer that properly, I would need a lot more time. I promise you we will have that time together, Seph, but not now. My story is long, and perhaps a little boring.”
“You’re strong, Torin. Really, really strong, and I very much doubt your story is boring.” She nodded to herself, as if his answer somehow confirmed her all her suspicions.
And you’re driving me crazy, Persephone.
She took a step forward, and Torin swore the scent of her arousal grew just a little bit stronger, a little bit more intoxicating. If this continued, they wouldn’t even make it to the damn food dispensary.
He’d made a silent promise to refrain from claiming her until they were off this infernal Bartharran rust-bucket and out of harm’s way, but he feared he wouldn’t last the distance.
So close… Several times already, he’d come so close to losing control.
Seph unclasped her cloak and rolled it up. The garment folded up into a surprisingly compact ball, which she secured in a pouch at her waist. Strands of brilliant red hair escaped their fastening, falling around her pale face. Despite the obvious signs of her fatigue, she was so, so lovely.
Nothing could ever take that away from her. Not even fatigue.
“Back there, with Relahek and the guards…”
Torin stiffened. “I was angry. I told those guards not to challenge me anymore, but they fought me anyway, and now they’re dead.”
“You didn’t want to kill them.” Sorrow crept into her gaze.
“They were reluctant to fight me, but Relahek must have had something on them, because they died protecting him anyway, and for what?”
Torin thought he’d finally managed to talk some good sense into his opponents, only to have them fall beneath his sword at the last siv. They’d rushed him together, plasma guns drawn, knowing they would probably die. At the same time, Relahek had attempted to escape, heading in Seph’s direction.
Torin had been left with no choice but to kill his attackers. His hard-wired training had kicked in, and he’d moved without a second thought.
Protect her.
No-one got past him, ever.
“Forget about that now, Seph.” The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface; insidious, all-consuming, and powerful. So powerful he’d almost lost control and killed Relahek.
That had never happened before.
If not for Seph…
She of flame-haired, curvaceous temptation, standing before him with eyes wide and bright, lips slightly parted, a look of fascination playing across her face.
Stunning him.
Just a little taste…
And now they’d found a pocket of calm in the storm.
Outside, the Bartharran horde waited, ready to attack at the first sign of weakness. The Skalreg Va hurtled toward a planet steeped in destruction and chaos, and he was completely cut off from his team—his fault entirely.
Torin couldn’t have cared less.
I want to get to know you.
“Torin, I…”
Whatever she was about to say was stolen away as Torin caressed her cheek. He bared his fingertips, the nanites rippling and disappearing, causing a momentary flare of agony even as he savored the warm silk of her skin. Unable to help himself, he reached up and pulled away the stretchy thing securing her hair, releasing a soft tumble of crimson.
A gentle cloud of scent—sweet, woody, and utterly intoxicating—surrounded him, and Torin’s entire being flooded with need.
What are you doing, fool?
He didn’t know anymore, didn’t care. Held in thrall to this magnificent creature, all he could do was follow the signs.
Her body spoke to him, cajoling him, demanding his absolute attention.
Slowly, deliberately, he raked his fingers through her glorious hair, appreciating how brilliantly it accentuated her unique coloring.
She pulled the stars down from the sky and garbed herself in a raiment of light, and the stars loved her so much they forgot the darkness and became one with her moonlight-kissed skin.
Now where had he heard that phrase before, and in Bartharran, no less? Was it a hymn to Salu, the goddess of stars?
It didn’t matter now. Torin was too far gone. The last shreds of his self-control slipped away, and…
He kissed her.
Sweetness and light.
She responded with a hunger that equalled his, wrapping her arms around his neck, demanding his mouth, his lips, his tongue, and Torin’s lust surged, driving him to the very edge.
The restless nano-machines inside him went still, withdrawing into his bloodstream as Torin gave in to his desire.
To her.
“I can’t stop, Persephone.”
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
Her breathless words completely undid him. Consumed with anger and fury and wicked desire, he surrendered to the storm.
Their storm.
Chapter Sixteen
Metal things dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. Small blades, large blades, swords. Torin discarded his weapons with ridiculous speed, leaving a trail of Callidum behind as he kissed her, his large, warm hands roaming all over her body.
As for her own plasma gun, she’d dropped it somewhere amidst his trail of weapons.
Torin moved forward as they kissed, slowly pushing her back, one arm hooked around her waist.
Seph was helpless to resist. She became boneless in his arms, stunned by the sudden force of his desire.
So fast!
As soon as they’d stepped into this quiet place, removing themselves from the chaos of the Bartharran ship, the ember of their at
traction had flared out of control.
“You’re beautiful, Seph.” Torin’s voice was a low rumble as he ran his fingers down her back, sending a ripple of goosebumps across her arms. His hands reached her ass, and a low growl reverberated from deep within his chest. He seemed to take great delight in caressing her generous curves. His touch was both reverent and possessive.
Such a contradiction, and yet somehow it worked. That was Torin all over.
He slapped her ass firmly but gently, the sensation sending a delicious tingle of arousal all the way through to her throbbing clit.
Warmth spread between her thighs. Torin leaned into her as she explored the broad, sculpted planes of his back with her gloved hands. As her wrist moved, the light from her link-band moved up and down, playing across the ceiling and walls. Torin’s muscles tensed and relaxed underneath her touch, giving her a sense of the devastating power contained within.
First Division.
She thought she’d read something about the hierarchical nature of Kordolian society; how they organized everything according to rank and status, how the wealthiest and the most powerful always rose to the top.
If the Imperial Kordolian Military had been the strongest in the Universe, and if Torin had been in the First Division, then he was…
Holy crap.
And now he was here with his arms wrapped around her, his hard, insistent kisses threatening to bring her to her knees, and sweet stars, how good he tasted.
As Torin pressed his body against hers, engulfing her with his warmth, it occurred to Seph that he was butt-naked.
What the hell?
“Wh-what happened to your armor?” she gasped between kisses.
“Withdrew it,” he murmured, as if that explained everything.
Something hard pressed into her lower belly. His erection!
Almost as thick as her wrist and glistening with moisture at its tip, his cock strained, proudly displaying the long, raised ridge that ran its entire length.
A ridge of warm skin and flesh, designed to glide right over her clit.
God, could he get any more perfect?
Seph couldn’t wait any longer. She no longer had the brain capacity to question how Torin had gotten naked so fast. She didn’t care that they were on a terrifying Bartharran pirate ship, headed toward a desolate war planet. Did she care that Torin was an alien? Hell, no.
