by Liz Paffel
Her hair looked soft and pretty as it fell in curls around her shoulders. Without thinking, he touched a strand, letting it curl and bounce around his finger. She gasped and he pulled back.
“Look at me,” he ordered. Her eyes flew to his. “I have chosen you and so it is done.”
She shook her head as if refusing the truth of his words. Her jaw set hard and he smiled, liking the small show of defiance. There was strength in her.
“Tell me your name, female.”
Wrinkles creased her smooth brow. “You intentionally kidnapped me, but you don’t know my name?”
“I want to hear it from your lips.” Tryllin looked at her mouth. So full and tender, her teeth perfect and white. The composition of her face was feminine and subtly beautiful. She was thin as if she didn’t eat enough. And the shade of her skin suggested she did not get much sunlight. Still, she was attractive enough to keep his attention.
Their children would have blue eyes.
The thought took him by surprise. The little human was here to do a job for him, that’s all. Tomorrow, he would pick a mate to ease his need for breeding. A quiet whisper rippled inside his mind, the sound like a muted trill, the single note of a song. It pulled him to touch the human, to trace the curve of her breast. To take her.
His lids fell halfway as he imagined pressing his lips to hers. They called him so sweetly. She might not be his mate, but she was his captive. He owned her. And if she disobeyed him, he’d punish her the way Axxeon males did to their mates with a hard, dominant spanking.
His cock stirred as he imagined her bound to his bed, her body spread out for him to punish however he wished. To breed. Abruptly, he stood and turned his back. He had to redirect his thoughts. The bed squeaked as she shifted her weight, the sound making something inside him snap. The little scientist, on the bed, waiting for him with her soft body and silky hair. He spun back to her. Her pupils dilated. Those luscious lips parted in surprise, her cheeks staining red. Tryllin cupped the back of her head with one hand and pulled her to her feet. She gasped and grabbed his forearms with her hands.
Their eyes locked as he pressed her small body against his and wrapped an arm around her. Her breathing increased, her heart pounding wildly against him. Her fingers gripped him tightly, hanging on instead of pushing him away. He dipped his head, bringing their lips a breath apart. Her lashes fluttered, a soft moan coming from her throat as he brought his lips to hers.
Her taste filled him, overwhelming him as shivers raced over his body and a deep warmth welled from the center of his chest and spread across his torso. She parted her lips, leaning into him as his tongue slid along hers and he gathered her flavor, letting it fill him with want.
So much want.
She did not resist or hesitate, simply leaned into him as if she’d been craving his touch. But how, when only moments ago, she’d been tense and afraid? They pulled away at the same time. Her eyes reflected the shock he felt at being so completely pulled to her. She felt the same. It was written all over her face.
With a start, he set her down. He’d wanted a taste; that was all. He was taking a mate tomorrow. Axxeon didn’t have to love their mates, or have any feelings save for mutual respect, really. But once a mating bond was created, they didn’t step outside of it. His kind mated faithfully for life. Tomorrow, the woman before him would be a means to an end, and that was it.
That’s all he ever intended for her to be.
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Chest heaving, body trembling, she put one hand on the mattress as if to steady herself. Tryllin grappled with his own breathing. A strong sensation crept over him as if coming from the very center of himself. It was territorial, protective.
Possessive.
The feeling confused him. He’d been numbed by anger and the all-consuming tasks of being King and holding his people together as they worked to rebuild their lives. He was so accustomed to working from necessity that he didn’t care he was otherwise numb. The strange emotions pumping through him right now felt so alive.
“Maybe you are meant to be more than just my tool.” The words fell from his mouth of their own volition, as if he were outside his body allowing someone else to speak. But they made sense. They felt right, even as the impossibility of what he was thinking set in.
“I’m not your anything.” Her slender body was visibly shaking now, her lips chattering as if she were cold. It wasn’t the temperature, though. He recognized her barely controlled fear. “Don’t touch me again!”
The comm device at his hip began to vibrate. A green laser shot from the device, creating a circle in the air with his third in command’s image. “Excuse me, your Majesty. You’re needed in the command center.”
“I’m coming.” Tryllin disconnected the call and took one last look at the woman. She did not shrink from him, though he sensed it took all her willpower not to.
“I am Tryllin, King of Axxeon. You will hear my name often, and you will be in my presence just as much. Get used to it, little human. If there is enough time, you may even begin to like me.”
“You’re enslaving me,” she ground out. “The only thing I would like is if you went straight to hell.”
He smiled and gave a gracious dip of his head before leaving her cell. Let her stew until after he’d chosen a mate and could return his full attention to her and the task they had to complete.
A task that wouldn’t end well for her. He faltered a little in his step at the thought. No, he’d chosen her years ago for one purpose.
And that’s all she was ever going to be to him.
Chapter Six
There was a sound outside her cell door, but Alora couldn’t drag herself from the restless confines of sleep fast enough to rouse herself before the door opened. Her heart leapt into her throat thinking it was Tryllin.
She’d struggled with restless sleep. A full day had passed, or so she thought, bringing her second night in Axxeon hands. Her mind groggily suggested it was morning again. It was hard to tell. Sleep was fickle as her mind continually replayed the feel of his lips on hers. She’d never been touched by a man quite like that. Her first real kiss had been from an alien! Her body heated in its groggy state, a flush going between her legs at the memory of his taste. It couldn’t happen again. Frantic to free herself from the memory, she opened her eyes to a tall and slender Axxeon female standing in the middle of the cell, holding a stack of folded fabrics.
Alora scooted into a sitting position, thinking she must be dreaming. Gooseflesh stood up on her forearms, a mixture of the coolness in the room and shock at what she was seeing. Holding the thin blanket to her chest, she rubbed at her eyes. The woman was still there.
“But… you’re a female.” The words dripped stupidly from her lips. Alora shook her head to clear it, positive she was still dreaming.
“You must get up.” The female’s voice was light and concise. “It’s time for you to bathe.” Her electric blue hair gleamed in the light, perfectly slicked back from her head and divided into two long braids. Her skin was light, almost white, a hexagon pattern along her collarbone and down her exposed arms glimmering with a greenish hue. Alora couldn’t stop staring.
The woman touched the base of her throat. “Is my translator chip not working? Can you understand me?”
“Ah, yes, I can understand you. I’m sorry for staring.”
The woman smiled. A long stack of bracelets decorated her right arm from wrist to elbow. She appeared almost ethereal, depending on where she stood in the light.
“You’re really quite beautiful.” Alora said with a rush. “Almost angelic.”
The woman gave a gracious dip of her head. “Thank you. I’m not familiar with angelic, but I will take it as a compliment.”
“It is,” Alora said and slid her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m sorry, but I thought… it’s just that we’ve been told all the women had been killed.” Her cheeks heated as she stumbled over the words.
; “My name is Jahtal. Twenty of our women were visiting friends on another planet when the attack came. Our numbers are few, but I’ve recently given birth to a daughter, so we will hope that is a good sign for the future.”
Alora nodded, unsure of how to respond. Jahtal unfolded the top garment from the small stack and gave it a snap. The gray dress was unfitted and hung like a sack. “I’ve brought you one dress and another blanket as my King said you appeared quite cold while sleeping last night.”
Tingles burst over her scalp. “He watched me while I was sleeping?”
“You are monitored at all times. All of your body systems and functions appear on our telemetry screen.”
“All… of them?”
Jahtal cocked her head as if she was confused by the question. “Yes. Your continued health is quite important.”
The hadn’t implanted her with anything or made her wear any devices. How were they monitoring her body systems? She was about to ask when Jahtal grabbed the hem of Alora’s shirt and pulled it up. Alora jerked back. “Excuse me?”
“You must change into a captive’s appropriate garb.”
“I thought you said I needed to bathe.”
“Yes, but we must enter the hall, and you will not appear outside of this cell in anything other than what the King has ordered you to wear.”
Alora shrunk away from Jahtal, snatching the dress before crossing her arms over her chest. She was getting real sick of the King and his demands. Edging away from the other woman, she made her way to the partial divider by the toilet and contemplated how to change without being seen. The partition offered more of a sense of privacy than actual coverage. She’d peed quicker than she ever had in her life last night, praying no one would peer into the door window and see. Seems her body’s every move was being recorded and watched, so either way, there was no privacy.
It made sense now why an Axxeon male had come to retrieve her food tray the moment she’d finished her soup and bread last night. They were ever watching.
A punch of absolute sadness made her chest ache. This was all so far outside of her comfort zone. She wasn’t sure how much she could take.
“Do you need assistance?”
Alora pulled in her quivering lower lip and didn’t respond. Making quick work of it, she slipped out of her khakis and tee shirt and slid the shift over her head. It hung in a boxy gray lump over her thin frame.
“Please remove your shoes.”
“The floors are freezing. Why can’t I keep them on?”
“Captives are not allowed footwear.” Jahtal lifted her chin. “It is harder to run in the snow and ice while barefoot.”
Alora clenched her eyes and for the first time since arriving here, felt a wave of complete and utter hopelessness. She was being stripped bare of everything she knew. All her work waited in a standstill in the lab. The vaccine her team had created, just waiting to be produced. The weird ash samples, just sitting there with no one to know what she’d found. Priya was probably beside herself wondering where Alora went.
Priya.
She scrambled to recall what day it was. The Summoned were coming, which meant her good friend would be among them, but which day? If Priya wasn’t chosen as a mate, perhaps she’d be returned home and could get a message to Brandon. She desperately wanted her brother to know that she was okay. Renewed at the thought, Alora kicked off her Birkenstocks and peeled off her socks.
“Are the Summoned coming here?”
“Yes.”
“When will they arrive?”
Jahtal’s eyebrows darted up. “Today.” She indicated with her hand that Alora should approach and held out a pair of glowing yellow cuffs. Alora stalled, remembering how the cuffs had seemed to alter her consciousness.
“Is the King the only one choosing a wife today?”
“A mate? He gets first choice, of course. But the remaining women will then be available to be chosen by the males of higher command.”
Alora’s gut fell. “So, none of the women will be returned home? They’ll all be chosen?”
Jahtal looked surprised that she would even ask. “Yes, they will all be chosen.”
No! Priya wouldn’t be going home and a message wouldn’t make it back to Brandon. Damn it! Her cheeks went cold, her hands suddenly numb. Her grief must show in her face, because Jahtal bent low to look at her.
“Does it upset you that you are not among the Summoned?”
Alora crossed her arms over her middle and shuddered. “No. Never. I’d rather die in this cell than become a mate.”
Jahtal ran a hand down Alora’s hair, slow and with a soothing pressure almost like a mother would to a distraught child. “You are accepting of your fate, then? That is good. Calm your spirit and mind so your essence will be at peace.”
With a frown, she pushed the Axxeon’s hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, don’t touch me.”
Jahtal didn’t seem offended in the least. She exuded a calmness that Alora envied. Her movements, voice, expressions were filled with ease and peace, as if she were completely pleased with each moment of her life. Alora felt a pang of guilt over snapping at the Axxeon woman. She didn’t know what ‘inner peace’ was like. All that new age stuff of mindfulness and being present and meditation for spiritual calmness. She ran on anxiety, self-doubt, fear, and caffeine.
Jahtal’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You look as if your nerves are getting the better of you. Would you like me to take your discomfort away so you can continue your day in more comfort?”
A single, surprise tear fell from Alora’s eye. She wiped it away and looked at the ceiling. “With that touch thing like your King did to me?”
Jahtal’s mouth dropped. “The King touched you?”
Yes, with more than just his hands. She kept the words to herself, but her face heated for Jahtal to see.
“Yes. With his fingers, right here.” She pointed between her eyes. “I was feeling nauseous and he made it stop.”
“I…see. We should get you to the bath now. Follow me.” She clipped the shackles around Alora’s wrists, and her mind went immediately fuzzy.
Jahtal opened the door and began to walk away. Alora scrambled to keep up, realizing when she caught up how much tall the Axxeon was. She struggled hard to concentrate. “Is it bad that he touched me? Why do you look as if that’s a bad thing?”
“There is nothing wrong, human. He is normally not so quick to use his gifts.”
They were in a tunnel with gray walls, the floor a grid-type of metal. The overhead lights were bright, almost glaring to her eyes. She was free of her room. The thought gave her pause. There had to be a way out of here, likely multiple exit points. Her pulse ticked up. She’d already run from them once. Maybe she could do it again.
You’re a warrior woman, just waiting to come out. Pasha’s words filtered through her foggy mind.
She had no idea where to go. The hall was long and dim… everything was so confusing. The walls, seeming to close in on her. Jahtal turned to the right and opened a set of double doors. Soft lights turned on as they entered and Alora did a double take. This must be another hallucination from the damn cuffs.
An opulent room appeared before her eyes. The floor was made of glossy golden tile embossed with navy blue swirls. The walls looked like white marble with navy veins; the domed ceiling captured clouds with a hint of sunlight. A large oval pool that looked big enough to hold fifty people sat in the center of the room. A waterfall rushed in a beautiful arc from a fissure in the wall above the pool, creating a mist where the rushing water met the calm surface. A muted rainbow glittered in the spray. Large potted ferns and other fauna lined the pool, creating privacy with beautiful shades of green. To each side of the pool were smaller pools with water that bubbled at the surface. A wall of succulents offered small waterfalls tricking from between the plants.
“These are the King’s private baths. He requested that you bathe here.”
“Why?”
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Jahtal disappeared into a smaller room on the side and came back with a thick, luxurious towel and a silky white robe. “I do not question my King, human. When he tells me to do something, I obey.”
Alora felt like there was advice in her words, or maybe a warning. While the baths called to her, whispering for her to come and soak, the idea that the Axxeon King offered up his private space to her felt awkward. Strange. Slightly thrilling.
Stop it, Alora! What are you thinking?
What if he wanted more of those kisses, or worse? What if he wanted more? He was choosing a mate soon. He wouldn’t want her for sex. Besides, she wasn’t one of the Summoned, the chosen. She was plain, awkward. Not the type of human woman a King would want.
Jahtal was looking at her strangely, as if she could hear her inner thoughts. Alora snapped to attention. Why was she even having these thoughts?
“Do you need help undressing, human?”
“What? No.”
“Very well. The baths are private. You will not be disturbed. However, I can only allow an hour in order to stay on schedule. I’ll leave you now and will return when it is time.” She unfastened the cuffs and Alora’s mind immediately sharpened.
The female gave her a pointed look. “The hallways are heavily guarded. In case it crosses your mind, there is absolutely nowhere for you to go.”
Jahtal left, and Alora stood there, staring at the water and listening to the rush of the waterfall. The King—Tryllin—bathed in these waters. A shiver lit up the skin of her arms at the thought. His huge, naked body dripping with rivulets of water clinging to each edge and curve, dripping from each masculine inch. What would it be like to see him in the flesh, wet, dripping, his eyes dark and wanting as he lifted himself from the water, revealing his chest, waist, hips and his long, thick…
She paused in the fantasy. Why was her mind doing this? He was the enemy, her captor, the man who was taking her freedom and all she could think about was his body? She’d never daydreamed about a man like this before. Probably because she’d never had time. Her mind was too full of transmembrane bound efflux pumps and determining protein structure to ponder the differences in men’s penis sizes, or how to seduce a man or any number of other things modern women’s magazines said she should worry about.
