by Susan Hayes
“You’re sweet, but no. I’m—”
She felt a rush of wind, saw a flash of metal, and the next thing she knew Tra’var was standing beside her. He had a kes’tarv gripped tightly in one hand, the shaft extended to form a barrier between her and Cameron. “She is not for you, human. She’s taken.”
Cam uttered an undignified squawk and backed up with his hands raised. “Right. Got it. Taken. No looking. No touching. No talking. See? This is me leaving.” He gave a faint wave toward her. “Nice to meet you. And for the record, I think you’re a hell of a lot braver than I am.”
“That was uncalled for!” She turned to glare at Tra’var.
“You are claimed. There will be no flirting with other males.” He raised the stave and then twisted the handle, triggering its collapse. “None.”
The weapon vanished back into its sheath and then she was in his arms, crushed against his chest. He took off without warning. Launching them into the air.
“Hey! I wanted to say goodbye at least.”
Tra’var didn’t say a word until he landed on an empty balcony several floors up. “You will not do that again.”
“Oh no. This is not how it works. You may be my mahoyen, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what I can and cannot do.” She rose up to her full height and shoved at his chest with everything she had. It wasn’t enough to free her, but he seemed to grasp how angry she was because he let her go and then stared down at her in confusion.
“But—”
“No. You can talk in a minute. I’m not done yet. Cameron wasn’t my type when I was his age, and he certainly isn’t now. But instead of trusting me, you threatened him and pulled me away from my friends. You and Damos are expecting me to accept this whole mated thing without question. I’m just supposed to trust that this is for the best, but you won’t even trust me to have a conversation with a male so young he could be my own son!”
She hadn’t meant to say this yet, and she really hadn’t planned on blurting it out, but she was too angry to engage her filters until it was too late. “Speaking of children, you do realize that I’m too old for that. Right? I don’t know how Vardarian biology works, but with humans it’s pretty damned simple. No more eggs, no more kids. I’m too old to have many left, if any. So if you wanted children, you are shit out of luck. Your mahaya’s baby factory is closed.”
She dashed away a stray tear with a shaking hand and looked up at him. “Still sure that your ancestors knew what they were doing when they threw us together?”
7
“No.” It wasn’t what he should have said. It wasn’t even what he meant to say. Anya was wounded and hurt, the pain in her eyes flaying him down to his soul. He should have said something comforting and kind, even if it was a lie.
She stilled, all the anger draining out of her in a heartbeat. “Welcome to the club.”
“I don’t understand. Why would the ancestors…” he trailed off. Finishing that sentence wouldn’t help the situation.
“Maybe you should ask them. I have no fraxxing idea. All I know is that babies or not, if you don’t trust me, this won’t work. I’m not going to stop speaking to my patrons or my friends because they happen to be male.” Her tone softened. “If that’s even going to be an issue now you know I can’t make you a father.”
“My species bond for life. As far as we can ascertain, humans, even ones bonded to our kind, do not. This is hard to accept. All of it is hard to accept.” He let his wings droop. “But that doesn’t mean I can let you go. You are our mahaya. That will never change.”
Her lips pressed together in a tight line and then she sighed, exhaling through her nose.
He didn’t understand her reaction. He’d just told her that it didn’t matter what happened, he’d always be there for her. “What’s wrong now?”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Wait, was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes.” Though clearly it hadn’t done so and he had no idea why not.
“I don’t know what you thought you were saying, but what I heard was that no matter how disappointed you are, you’re stuck with me.”
Frustration rolled through him. “That is not what I meant. You are mine, Anya. Always. Having you in my life will make me happy because that is what the ancestors intended for me. For us.”
She huffed softly. “So this is our destiny and that’s the end of it?”
“Yes. That’s how it is with my species. I’m also a practical male. If something doesn’t come out as expected, there are only three choices: adjust my expectations, try to fix the project, or throw it away. I am not throwing you away.”
“Fixing something for you means throwing it back in the forge and then hammering the shit out of it,” she pointed out in a tone drier than a desert wind.
“I’m not putting you in the forge, either.” He held out a hand to her. “But we will have moments where one of us accidentally hammers the other. It was like that when Damos and I were first bonded, but we found our way. Now he is as much a part of me as my shadow.”
Anya took his hand and held it lightly, but she didn’t move any closer. “Okay. I need you to understand something, though. Just because I am not biologically compelled to never look at another male doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life worried I’ll cheat on you. I won’t. I’m not that kind of person. Until now, I’ve never been involved with more than one guy at a time.”
Her words turned his blood to molten steel. She had never known the touch of two males at once. They would be the ones to introduce her to that pleasure. “Never?”
Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “When it comes to guys, I’m kind of cursed. I prefer to just screw up one relationship at a time.”
“This is not a human relationship. There is no way you can break the bonds between us.”
“That’s not what Saral said.” Her lower lip vanished between her teeth for a second. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
“You discussed that with her instead of us?”
“I needed an unbiased opinion. Well, slightly less biased. She’s certain this is the best thing that could ever happen to me.”
“It is.” He had no doubts and hers confounded and irritated him. So did the fact she’d gone to someone else to talk about their new bond. If she had questions, why hadn’t she asked them last night before they’d parted?
“It isn’t always. I know Kade’s parents don’t exactly get along, and they’re not the only ones. This system of yours isn’t perfect.”
“Unhappy pairings are the result of years of deliberately poisonous choices. I won’t live my life that way, and I don’t believe you would either.”
“You believe this is the will of your ancestors. That there is some grand plan.” Anya tapped a hand to her chest. “I don’t. I think the universe is chaotic and we’re left to make our choices as best we can and face the consequences later. You and Damos are clearly well-matched, but that doesn’t mean the three of us will be.”
That made him laugh. “The first time I met that stubborn son of a gharshtu he insulted me and we ended up fighting. He broke my nose and I gave him a black eye. I told my parents it wouldn’t work. So did he. My fathers sat me down and told me that I had no choice. This binding would elevate my family’s standing at court and improve the fortunes of my other siblings and their children.”
Anya blinked. “They traded you for improved status.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, that’s basically what happened. Damos’ fathers loved him, but once they found their mahaya and had offspring with her, the family dynamic shifted. None of the higher-ranked families would even consider binding one of their sons to someone with Damos’ flawed genetics. I was the only option.”
“He’s not flawed!” she protested.
“I agree with you. My anrik would not. His birth was the result of a brief relationship with a female of mixed species—Vardarian and Ferrym. His mother l
eft on a scientific vessel shortly after their encounter, unaware she was pregnant. By the time she returned, Damos was too far developed for the standard treatments. His fathers claimed him anyway, but their love was not enough to protect him from the judgment of others.”
Her expression softened and her voice lost its edge. “You said his fathers claimed him. What about his mother?”
He shook his head. “She only returned long enough to deliver her son and present him to his fathers. She has never been part of his life.”
He expected her to react with shock or anger. Instead, she pressed her lips together and hummed in what sounded like understanding. “My father bailed on me, too. He was gone before I learned how to walk. To be honest, I’m not sure he was around that long, but my mom doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Damos doesn’t speak about his mother either, though I know he still feels the sting of her rejection.” Tra’var suspected Damos’ mother’s choice to cut all ties to her son was the main source of his anrik’s issues.
“Yeah. That’s not easy to get over.” She rubbed a hand to her chest, just over her heart. “But I imagine it took a while for you to come to terms with the fact your family basically used you to leverage their status in society.”
“It’s the way things work.” It wasn’t really an answer, but it was true.
She snorted. “No wonder so many of you willingly headed to a strange planet to start over again.”
“Indeed. We didn’t hesitate. This was the right choice for us.” He grinned. “For once, the stubborn bakaffa didn’t even try to argue with me.”
“I can’t imagine the two of you fighting. You are so close. I mean, I don’t know you well yet, but even I can see that.”
“We forged our friendship over time, working through our differences and leaning into our strengths. I wouldn’t be the male I am today without him. He is my best friend and my blood-bound brother. You are now part of that bond. We will find our way.”
“I wish I felt as certain as you do.”
He drew her in close, folding his arms around her smaller frame and bowing his head over hers. “If you can’t trust the will of our ancestors, can you at least try to trust us?”
“I do trust you. I don’t know why, exactly. But I do.”
Her soft confession filled him with satisfaction. “That is a good start. I will try to have more patience.” He nuzzled the top of her head, letting the scent of her hair fill his lungs. “But it is hard.”
His spiky little sandar chuckled as she rocked her body against the hard, aching ridge of his cock. “I noticed.”
“Mahaya,” his tone was part warning, part longing. “If you do that again…”
“I know, but if we do, it would take the edge off this crazy sharhal thing.” She stroked a hand down his bare flank. “It’s getting hard—uh, difficult—to think straight.”
He was going to tell her no. Not here. Not where anyone could see them. But then she reached behind him, letting her fingers glide over the patch of skin between his wings, and his higher brain functions ceased operation. He growled her name as his lips crashed down on hers, capturing her soft gasp of surprise with his mouth.
He devoured her, taking what he craved. Her touch. Her taste. The warmth of her body and the sweetness of her mouth. He palmed her ass in his hands and then lifted her off the floor without breaking their kiss.
She shifted her hold, letting go of his back to throw her arms around his neck, her soft noises of need humming against his tongue. She wanted this as much as he did, and all his plans to take things slowly were scattered by the maelstrom of lust howling through his veins.
Anya stopped fighting and gave in to her desires. There’d be time for doubts and questions later, but right now, all she needed was Tra’var. He was the only one who could ease the ache inside her. The need for sex was so strong it was impossible to focus on anything else for long.
His skin was different now. She could feel the slight ridges of his scales beneath her palms as she clung to him. One of his fangs grazed her lip, and she remembered something important. With the last of her brain cells, she managed to dredge up two small words, “No biting.”
He tensed and his next words were little more than a roughened growl. “Why do you still resist this?”
“Because it’s an important moment, and when it happens, you should both be there.”
He broke their kiss and for a moment she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. Anger? Frustration? Suddenly she was painfully aware of how big he was and how dangerous. A spike of fear cut through her lustful fog, but then it faded as she saw his face. He was smiling at her with something like wonder.
“You are right, little sandar. It will be special and Damos should be part of it.” His lips parted and he chuckled ruefully. “The sharhal has stolen my ability to think.”
“Then let’s do something about it. This will help. Right? And it’s okay that Damos isn’t here?”
“It will help for a little while.” He locked gazes with her. “You are sure?”
She wrapped her legs around his hips and ground herself against his cock. “Very.”
“Then let’s ask him.” His voice changed to a soft murmur as he subvocalized to his anrik, though he kept his voice loud enough for her to hear. “Damos. Anya is in the thrall of the mating fever. She needs relief but is worried you’re not here.”
She couldn’t hear Damos’ response, but Tra’var’s reply told her all she needed to know. “Yes, I’ll make sure to take care of our mahaya’s needs. Yes, I remember how. It hasn’t been that long. See you soon.”
There was another pause, and then Tra’var snorted. “Asshole.” Then he looked down at her. “He understands. We will all have our time together. Separately and together.”
“I just needed to be sure.”
“I’m glad you asked.” He kissed her. “But I think we are done talking now.” He spun them so his back was to the arena. She got a quick glimpse of an aerial battle going on some distance away, but then Tra’var spread his wings and blocked her view. She couldn’t see anything anymore, but no one would be able to see her, either.
She’d always been a bit of an exhibitionist. A lifetime spent in close quarters on ships and stations had made her that way, but she appreciated that Tra’var was doing his best to keep her shielded. Modesty wasn’t a Vardarian trait, at least not that she’d noticed, so he must be doing it for her.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m not concerned about voyeurs,” she told him.
He curled his lip back to reveal his fangs. “No one else sees you naked but us. Ever.”
She patted his cheek and laughed. “Okay, handsome. Do you want me to stay quiet, too?”
He twisted his lips, his jaw canted to one side as he considered. “No. So long as you scream my name when I make you come, I will allow it.”
Anya was so amused by his decree that she suffered a filter failure. “Your name. Got it. I’ll try to remember that… Dave?”
He growled and surged forward, not stopping until her back was pressed against a wall with his body firmly wedged between her thighs. He’d maneuvered them into a small alcove that partially screened them from view. His mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, and he made primal sounds that had her blood singing and every part of her aching with need.
His vest offered plenty of access to bare skin, but his pants were out of her reach and she had no idea how they fastened. She gave up trying to undress him and focused on herself. She managed to get her shirt over her head, but then he caught her wrists in one massive hand and held her arms over her head, still tangled in her top.
“Pretty.”
She felt the warmth of his breath through the lace of her bra, and then his mouth closed on her nipple, sucking through the dark red fabric. She moaned, his touch triggering a zing of pleasure that flowed through her like electricity. Her breath caught, her back arched, and her panties grew damp with arousal at his touch.
>
When he lifted his head, the cool air of the arena wafted over the wet lace, making her nipple tighten and sending a flurry of goose bumps across her skin.
“What is that?” he asked as he released her hands.
She freed herself from her shirt and then dropped it. “When we feel cold or aroused, that happens.”
He lifted his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Which was it?”
“Both,” she admitted.
“Then I will warm you so the next time it happens I’ll be certain it is pleasure you’re feeling.”
“Trust me, you’ve got that covered.”
He took a deep breath and grinned. “I can tell.”
She blushed. Actually fraxxing blushed.
He stared, fascinated, as a flush of heat traveled up her throat to darken her cheeks. He brushed a kiss over the start of the blush. “Warm. I didn’t realize.” He took another deep breath and made a low, rumbling sound of approval. “It enhances your scent. I need you, Anya. Now.”
“Then you’re going to have to put me down.”
“I don’t like that idea,” he grumbled. “If you were wearing Vardarian clothing, this would not be a problem.”
“I don’t own any.”
“You will soon.”
She could see they needed to have a conversation about bossiness and boundaries, but now was not the time. Her need was rising to a fevered pitch and she wanted relief.
She wanted him.
Tra’var stepped back just enough to give her space and then lowered her to the floor. He deliberately kept their bodies in contact so the slow slide down his torso made her skin tingle.
The moment she was standing on her own he unsheathed a knife from another pouch and raised it in one hand. “Do not move.”
If any other man had done that, she would dump him on his ass and run like hell, but this was Tra’var. She went still, her gaze on the blade in his hand.
He moved slowly, not stopping until the point of the blade made light contact with a spot just below her breastbone. He drew the point upward over her heated skin, triggering another flurry of goosebumps.
