by Lee Savino
And if I'm not?
I shake my head. My mind is made up. Hey, even Hermione knew that you have to break the rules sometimes.
I'll start with the secret panel on the wall where he hid that box. I was going to try and respect his privacy, but he's not talking and I'm getting pissed. And hurt. Besides, if he comes back and what’s the worst he can do—punish me?
11
Bogdan
I march down the hall, acknowledging passing warriors’ salutes and scowling when they congratulate me on my Tribute. I do not wish to think about my Tribute when my cock and seela are bellowing for relief. My jaw clenches and I rub my chest. I feel a kind of pain there, but it is a strange pain, as if it is not my own.
I do not like thinking about the look on my Tribute's face when I left the room.
Part of me wishes the Vgotha would appear, simply so I could justifiably stay away from her. Just for a little bit. Also, surely a fight with the enemy would take the edge off my constant state of arousal, where sparring did not.
Why haven’t we had sex yet?
I do not have an answer that would satisfy the High Commander, so I do not think it would satisfy her either. I am unable to even explain it to myself.
I would not be betraying a mate. I have no formal allegiance to Harai, who is long gone and was far too kind to deny me happiness in the future. And yet every time I begin to get caught up in the moment, something holds me back.
It feels wrong to me, to have Tributes when we have not yet defeated our enemy, yet I seem to be the only one who thinks so.
My Tribute intrigues and challenges me at every turn and I enjoy her spirit as much as her body… but to bond with her… to breed with her...
Are we to create a new generation of Tsenturions when we cannot even guarantee their safety against the Vgotha threat? I shake my head, shoving away the panic and crushing guilt that threatens my composure. The decision has already been made, no matter that I disagree with it.
I will do my duty.
Somehow.
The scent of food and echoing loud voices signal an end to my walk. I stride into the mess hall to find more edible vegetation for my Tribute.
When I enter the cafeteria, several warriors hail me, acknowledging my presence. I nod but quickly look away from them to be sure none approach. It works; I have several moments of solitude to review the food lists and find ones I think my Tribute will enjoy.
In the end, the only Tsenturion other than High Commander Gavrill who would dare interrupt me when I obviously wish to be left alone steps up to my side. Medik is older, wiser, and not a warrior. He is an anomaly, a man who finished his service, mated, fathered children, but then came with us when our Medik was injured on duty. He was supposed to serve one mission and then return home… but there was no home to return to. During the mission, he’d preferred to go by his title, but after the Great Devastation, he’d given up his name entirely, demanding to be known only by his title, as his mate had been the last to speak his name and he did not want that taken away from him.
His loss was greater than any of ours individually, yet somehow, he has more hope than I do.
“Greetings, Bogdan. How goes the bonding of Tribute Pareena?”
“My Tribute’s training is going well enough.” I respond, my voice even. I specifically don’t mention bonding. There has been no bonding yet. A feeling of guilt suffuses me, because there are many warriors who would love to bond with a Tribute, and yet I am fighting the bond with mine. However, the idea of bonding with her also fills me with guilt. There is no winning this scenario.
Medik just smiles.
“Is your Tribute unsatisfactory?” he asks.
“My Tribute is perfect.” I snap the words out defensively before I realize it was probably his intention to goad me.
Medik cocks his head, a twinkle in his eye. Not a very soldier-ly gesture, but he has always been more expressive than the rest of us. “Perfectly suited to the Tribute program or perfect for you?”
“Is there a difference?”
Rather than answering, he just chuckles and continues on as if I had answered him. “I had hoped the altered questionnaire would yield good results. Dawn’s input was invaluable. Has Pareena shared anything about her past life with you?”
If he were anyone else, his familiar use of my Tribute’s name would rankle, but since it is Medik, I let it pass.
“The subject has not come up.” Was that not what her file was for? What more do I need to know?
“Hmmm,” Medik sips his drink, studying me. “It might be good to discuss life events before her arrival. Hers and yours.”
I come close to blurting out how she found me looking over the contents of the betrothal box. Which is odd. I have never felt the need to share my personal experiences before. At times Medik has asked questions about my mental and emotional state, but I assured him my mental faculties would not interfere with my warrior duties. As long as my physical health is in peak condition, I have no need to review my memories.
“What purpose would it serve?” I scowl, as if displeased by the idea, but truthfully, I am curious. After all, he is the only male other than the High Commander who has ever been mated. In many ways, he has served as a paternal guide to all of the warriors in our fleet. We all lost our fathers and mothers to the Great Tragedy, and he stepped into the breach.
Medik is used to my severe expressions and, as usual, ignores this one. “She will surely wish to know more about the warrior she’s been given to. I understand you are, ah, busy getting to know her in other ways,” Medik’s cup barely hides his smile, “but when you rest you might talk to her about each other.”
“Perhaps I shall,” I murmur. Now that he has suggested it, I cannot help but wonder if there are things the file did not reveal to me. Besides, knowing more about my Tribute can only be a good thing. The more I know, the easier I can train her to bend to my will.
“Excellent,” Medik exclaims. “I wish you all success. Let me know if I can assist you.”
I could protest that I have no need for his help. My Tribute will respond to my questions in a satisfying manner because she is obedient and acknowledges me as her Master, but I have another issue to tend to.
Before he can turn away, I catch his arm.
“There is a matter you can help with.”
“Oh? Not a medical issue, I hope?”
“Of a sort. My Tribute does not eat the flesh of animals. I was able to provide a meal for her earlier, but I do not know if it was adequate for her needs on a continuing basis. What plant-based dishes provide the most nutrients for her system?”
Several minicycles later, I enter my quarters laden with two large platters of nutritional plant-based dishes. Medik was happy to help me select them.
I frown when I do not immediately see my Tribute and set down the platters. I feel strangely uneasy and sad. Am I feeling what she is feeling? Where is she?
“Pareena?” To call her ‘my Tribute’ when I am addressing her feels too strange and I remember how Dawn insisted I use my Tribute’s first name, seeming to think I had an objection to it. I like my Tribute’s first name. It rolls off the tongue in a pleasing manner.
A choked cry, on the other side of the bed, makes me rush forward. My Tribute is kneeling again, by the wall. When she looks up at me, tears are streaming down her face. The source of the uneasy sadness is clear. Somehow, I know what she is feeling. But I cannot focus on that revelation now, not when I can see her distress.
“What is wrong? Are you hurt?” I crouch and run my hands over her clothed body.
“I’m fine,” she sniffles. “I’m fine.” She catches my hand and presses it to her chest. “Oh, Bogdan, I’m so sorry.”
“You are unhurt? Then why are you crying?”
She shakes her head, unable to answer. I gather her into my arms and hold my Tribute as she weeps. My insides feel as if they have been scrambled. I wish to fight but there are no threats in the room. What
could have disturbed her?
My eyes fall on the open panel that usually hides the compartment where I keep my memory box. She’s taken out the gifts from Harai, as well as the only items I have left from my parents and ancestors. I have not looked at the vid pics of my sisters and younger brother in decacycles, and seeing their faces now sends a pang of grief through me.
Pareena
As sad as I was feeling before, just looking at the pictures of children and realizing they must have all been killed when Tsentur was destroyed, is nothing to how I feel, watching as pure grief etches itself across Bogdan’s face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning into him, holding onto him. I’m terrified he’ll pull away from me, but if anything, he seems to sag against me. The anger he felt when I saw him looking through this box the last time is nowhere to be seen, and somehow that makes me feel even worse. “I went snooping.”
“It… it is understandable.” His words are stilted. Tight. I cannot tell if he actually means them or not. “You wish to know more about me.”
I thought I felt his grief, but now I just feel a kind of emptiness, as if all emotions have shut down.
“You’re not mad?” I ask, tentatively.
“No.”
I hold my breath, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything more without prompting. “Who are they?”
We both look at the pictures simultaneously. I can guess who they are, but I think it will probably do him some good to talk about it. Maybe that’s the shrink in me, but I’ve never seen anyone more bottled up than Bogdan is.
“My sisters. My brother. My family.”
I swear I can feel the sadness coming back to fill the emptiness, as though just saying their relation to him has somehow breached the barrier against his emotions.
We are both silent again for a long moment. Sometimes silence is all that is needed to get someone to open up.
“Do you wish for me to tell you what happened?” His voice is reluctant, but that’s not entirely unexpected. Still, I almost sigh in relief that he’s making the offer. I wasn’t completely sure he would, which should have been fine but... it’s easier to maintain a professional distance when I don’t have a personal stake.
“Would you?” I ask softly.
To my surprise, Bogdan leans back against the wall, pulling me onto his lap. I snuggle in, pressing myself against his body and doing my best to serve as a comfort during what I know will be a difficult talk for him. Frllil told me about the Great Tragedy. But it’s different hearing about an event from someone who wasn’t affected by it versus someone whose life was radically changed by it.
I can feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as he begins to speak.
“It was planting time. Night blossoms signal the time for the Mating Festival. Our fleet was late returning to Tsentur, which had never happened before in living memory…” His voice trails off, as if the pain is too much to bear and instinctively, I lean into him. I can already feel the tears gathering at the backs of my eyes again. Clearing his throat, his arms tighten around me. “I was to leave my duties as a soldier and return to the planet, where I would rejoin my family and travel to the Festival.”
He falls silent again. Lost in the memories perhaps.
“Were you going to find a mate?” I ask gently.
“I had already found one.”
The answer surprises me and I am glad he has me wrapped tightly in his arms, because I’m not sure I could have contained my shock. That was the last thing I’d expected, especially because I was told that Tsenturions could only bond with a mate once. But, of course, he didn’t get a chance to bond with her.
My heart aches and a fresh wave of tears spills from my eyes. It’s so incredibly tragic and yet I feel anger rising too. Not at Bogdan, but at the Vgotha. The unnecessary loss is so devastating, so infuriating, that even I feel it. Bogdan shouldn’t be here. He should be happily mated, possibly with children. No wonder he didn’t want a Tribute. It wasn’t personal to me at all.
“Did you love her?” I keep my voice soft, calm. My therapy voice. Although the way my fingers stroke over his chest, trying to soothe him, isn’t at all professional. I can’t seem to make myself stop though.
“I did.” The pain and sadness in his voice make me want to hug him for the rest of his life. “We had not bonded, but I was looking forward to our life together.”
I choke a little, and then I realize that I’m crying a lot harder than I thought I was. My chest heaves, but I don’t seem to be able to make myself stop.
“Hush.” Now Bogdan is the one comforting me. Holding me tightly, he begins to rock me slightly. “Do not distress yourself. It was a long time ago.”
“It’s so sad. You all lost so much.” And no matter how long ago it was, I can tell it still affects him. It still affects all of them. How could it not?
12
Bogdan
I try to thumb away my Tribute’s tears, but there are too many of them.
“It was a long time ago,” I repeat the only thing I can think of to say, to try and comfort her.
“It still hurts,” she whispers.
I cradle her head to my chest and let her cry, because she speaks the truth. It still hurts. No matter how long it has been, it still hurts. I rest my cheek against my Tribute’s head. She fits into my arms perfectly, her slight weight replacing the heavy feelings I’ve carried for many cycles. The burden is still there, but fractured, like a stone broken into many pieces. Smaller pieces more easily dealt with. It still hurts. But perhaps not as much.
I have never cried before, yet my Tribute is weeping far too vigorously for just discovering my betrothal box. Could she be sensing my grief?
Whatever it is, I feel calmer when her sobs quiet. I pull the box closer and sift through the contents to find the ones not related to Harai.
I lift out a small jeweled dagger. “This was my grandmother’s. She carried it always, until I came of age and she gave it to me.” I thumb the pommel where a stone is missing. “She let me play with it when I was young, but I dropped it and broke the main setting. So, she took the jewel and added it to our family crest.” I pick up the brooch she'd made from it. The black stone glitters in the bronze setting.
“This looks like onyx.” My Tribute tentatively lifts her hand and I let her take it from me. She turns it over, inspecting it. Her eyes and nose are puffy and slightly discolored, but she seems to have calmed as well. She holds it up to my chest and giggles. “You should wear it. It matches your suit.”
Because both are black. A small smile of amusement curves my lips.
"What about this, Master?" she asks, emboldened by my sharing. She reaches past me and touches the golden lock of hair, although she does not pick it up.
I remain silent for a long moment, staring at Harai's hair, feeling the ache... feeling the guilt of having my Tribute in my lap as I look at my intended mate's last gift. The High Commander has bonded with his Tribute, but I have not bonded with mine. Part of me still feels that the very presence of non-Tsenturion mates makes a mockery out of what had been a sacred bond on our planet. Yet, I still want my Tribute now that I have her.
"Was it hers?" she asks gently. I nod and a muscle in my jaw clenches. I am unable to speak, too overcome with conflicting emotions. My Tribute sets the brooches and dagger back in the box and twists around to cup my face. “It's okay, Master. I know you don’t want a mate. I’m not trying to replace your lost love.”
I blink. How did she know my thoughts?
“It was wrong of me to pry," she says, her fingers softly stroking my cheeks. I can feel the sadness in her, but also a kind of calm that creeps over me like a comforting balm. She is no innocent. She too has known grief and loss.
"Why did you?" I ask, curious. Medik did tell me to ask her more questions. I would not have thought that sharing more of myself with my Tribute would make me feel better, but it did.
"I wanted to know more about you. I want
to be closer to you.”
I frown, my arms tightening around her. "You are already close to me." I shift my legs underneath her for emphasis.
Surprisingly, her dark eyes twinkle with humor in response, her mood lightening. "Closer than that. I’m here for you, Master, Bogdan, however you want me. I understand if you want to wait.”
She bites her lip and drops her eyes. My cock stirs.
Oh.
The urge to claim her wells up inside of me, stronger than ever now that she's told me that she understands... that she will wait. I don't know why, but somehow that one sentence breaks through the resistance that I have been feeling. I never fully understood my resistance either, so perhaps it is not surprising that I don't fully understand why her offer has affected it.
"I do not wish to wait," I say, abruptly standing with her in my arms. She grabs onto me, holding tightly and blinking in surprise as I carry her to the bed.
Her slight weight reminds me to be gentle. I lay her on the bed and pull off her gown, exposing her smooth skin to my touch. My cock is achingly hard, my seela unruly and writhing with the need to connect to her. Yes.
The Vgotha threat still exists, but we will eradicate it. My Tribute will just give me another reason to fight.
She can be distracting, but I have already proven, both to myself and to the other warriors, that I can attend both my Tribute and my duties.
The loss of Harai still hurts, but she is gone, and she would want me to be happy. My Tribute makes me... well, not happy exactly, but even before the Great Tragedy I was not a cheerful Tsenturion. But she makes me less unhappy. She soothes the sharp edges of pain and anger inside of me, even if she does not eradicate them entirely.
Rest peacefully, Harai.
The thought slides through my mind like a benediction, a release from a long sentence of grief and fury. Those emotions are not gone, but there are other emotions now too.
Curiosity. Affection. Admiration. Desire. My Tribute has awoken a side of me that I thought had died with Tsentur. It has been an uncomfortable and sometimes painful awakening, but now I don't want to hold back from her any longer. She is not the mate I intended to have, but she is my Tribute and she will be my mate.
