17. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
B ayne
I stood still as a statue for I don’t know how long, maybe minimas , maybe hoaras . When I came to my senses, my broadsword was still in my hand. I hadn’t moved.
I let it clatter to the floor, wanting to never hold the abominable thing again. I imagine it will always remind me of that day, of my mother.
I pull off my loincloth and enter the shower, washing my pelt and scrubbing my skin until it feels raw. It’s as if I’m trying to wash the blood and smell of fire off my fur and skin, as if it will erase the memory itself. It won’t, I know. Nothing will ever make the pictures of what happened that day go away. They’re imprinted on my brain.
Although I’ve pushed those memories out of my mind for a decade, now I sift through them, searching for pictures of those five purple males. I vowed revenge as a young male, then spent a long time in canine form.
Yes, hunt them, kill them. A deep growl reverberates through my body.
I agree , I assure WarDog,
Now I have the means to track them down and kill them. Try as I might, I can’t see any of their faces. Perhaps my mind is doing me a kindness by hiding this from me.
The water has long since turned cold, but I keep scrubbing, keep abusing my body with the frigid water, trying to make the horrendous memory recede to where it has hidden all these annums . It won’t.
At last, I turn off the shower and dry myself, then stand in front of the mirror. I inspect myself. I’m a grown male. I’m strong, powerful. I’ve fought in the arena, albeit in my shifted form. I vow to find my enemies. Not the males of my homeworld which the Intergalactic Database tells me was almost destroyed by offworlders shortly after I was taken.
No. I vow to myself and to my canine, we will find and destroy those purple males who came in on hovers, provided advanced arms to a neighboring tribe, and incited them to destroy us so the five of them could swoop in and get what they came for—rare fighting stock.
I need to remember who my enemies are—and find them.
In the meantime, I’ve lost so much. Don’t I deserve a female? Don’t I deserve the comfort of soft arms? Don’t I deserve to sheathe myself in her warm channel and find pleasure there?
Don’t I deserve to connect on a deep level with one other being in this galaxy? A female who showed me her compassion many times, albeit only to my canine.
Yes , replies WarDog, take her, mate her, bite her, make her ours.
My decision of a few hoaras ago still stands. Patience , I admonish my enthusiastic beast. I’m going to pursue the female who has invaded my dreams and consumed every waking thought since I was freed from the prison of my canine form. I have to gain her trust and hopefully her affections will follow. I hear a chuff of agreement at this plan.
Willa
When I arrive at the dining room, most of the furniture is pushed against the walls. A small spread of party food, as well as ruby-colored punch, is on one of the long tables. I see Bayne talking to Stryker along the back wall. He’s in profile, perhaps so he can see everyone who enters.
He doesn't look directly at me, but I know he saw me enter. The corners of my lips lift in a tiny smile because his ear flicked toward me, then he stood a little taller and threw his shoulders back when he sensed my presence.
One thing is certain, that male is handsome. His broad chest is naked except for the black leather sash stretching from one shoulder to the opposite side of his waist. It’s sexier than if he was completely bare because it calls attention to every muscle and ripple.
If anything, he’s stronger and more muscular than the first time I saw him in his humanoid form. He’s wearing a black leather kilt like many of the males on board. It doesn’t reach his knees, and accentuates his strong calves.
At first, I thought the pelt on his shoulders was a little Cro-Magnon, but over the last month, watching him at meals and stalking through the halls, I’ve come to think it accentuates his masculinity, and also his differences.
I’m in space. It’s full of aliens. This isn’t an Earth male. He’s part canine. I appreciate everything about him that underscores our diversity.
I mingle, doing my best to be upbeat and happy, all the while keeping an eye on Bayne. As soon as his conversation with Stryker comes to an end, I’m going to approach him. Carpe Diem! I’m going to seize the day.
“Can you believe it’s only been a few lunars since we were in that cell on the slave ship together?” Ar’Tok asks. He was a quiet male when we met. Now he’s found love and come out of his shell. There’s a broad smile on his face—certainly something I never imagined that day we were in an epic space battle and ultimately rescued by the gladiators on this ship.
“I think we’ve all done a lot of growing since then,” I say with a smile. I’m so engrossed in our conversation as we recount all the changes we’ve experienced, that I take my eye off Bayne for a moment. When I glance toward the back of the room, I don’t see him. I hope he hasn't retreated to his cabin.
“Willa, would you like some punch?” It’s Bayne. He slipped up on me quietly and is at my elbow, offering me a glass.
“Yes. Thanks.” I believe these are the first words we’ve exchanged since I kicked him out of my cabin. My fingers actually tremble as I accept the glass. He’s bigger than I remember, or maybe it’s because he’s so close. Heat radiates off him. I feel pulled to him as if he’s a planet with his own gravity.
I take a sip and realize the fruity red punch packs a kick. Normally not a drinker, I decide tonight would be a good time to treat myself to a glass—or two.
My mind swirls with thoughts and questions. I want to say so many things. What I do, however, is bite my bottom lip with my teeth and feel excitement eddy through my body. Then we both talk at once. I didn’t hear what he said.
“Awkward,” I admit, then look into those golden eyes for the first time tonight. Maybe I’m crazy, but I think I understand every thought racing through his brain. No, that’s not right. But I think I know his feelings. The emotion pouring out of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen is affection. He’s lobbing it at me, propelling at me all the caring and concern I can handle.
Our awkward conversation gets worse before it gets better. I ask him how he’s been and he tells me “fine.” He asks me what I’ve been doing and I have nothing to report. What is there to say? I’ve been helping the other women do the things they’re good at because I have no strengths of my own? Or should I admit I’ve spent a great deal of time regretting kicking him out of my cabin?
It doesn’t help that people are watching us. I’m sure we’ve been the talk of our little ship. He was my constant companion from the day we boarded the Fool’s Errand until the day he shifted. Thankfully someone turns on some music, but the awkwardness continues, only now it’s louder.
He grabs my hand in his huge, warm one. It’s like someone plugged me into an electrical current. Something sparks between us. Lust. My gaze flies to his and locks there. I couldn't pull away if I wanted to.
“Come with me?” It’s spoken as half request, half command.
I nod, still dumbstruck by the electricity of his touch. When he tugs me toward the exit, I almost pull back. Is he going to yank me toward his cabin with no more preliminaries than this? But I don’t resist. I follow.
Instead of heading to the dorm wing, though, I follow him to the end of a different hallway. Grace brought me here once. I loved it, but never took the time to return. She called it the solarium. It’s a bullet-shaped room with windows on all sides except the wall with the doorway from which we enter. Even the roof is clear and reminds us we’re floating among the stars themselves.
The apprehension I’d experienced when I thought he was dragging me to his room disappears. Every nervous cell in my body stands down. It’s silent in here, made even more so when he turns off all the lights. The room is only illuminated by the red of the running lights on the rear exterior of the ship.
We still haven’t spoken one substantive word in over a month. He leads me to a comfy couch at the back of the room. We sit side by side and gaze out at the stars.
“Beautiful,” I say on a sigh.
“I like it here,” he responds.
At times I feel his gaze on me, but mostly we just watch the black velvet canvas strewn with diamonds. That’s what it seems like to me. The stars twinkle like gemstones. There’s a blue and purple nebula off to our right reminding us just how vast the universe is.
Reaching over, he uses one finger to lift my chin and tip my head toward him. I don’t understand how, but in this dim light, his golden eyes swirl with an otherworldly glow.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, cocking his head in the manner I find so adorable.
“I never—” I protest, but cut myself off. I didn’t set honesty as my intention earlier, but I should have. “I know I acted mad, Bayne, but it was driven by shame.”
“I’ve spoken with several females on board. I never breathed a word you would consider private, but I asked about the situation in general. They all agreed it would be hard to tolerate. Maddie said it would be like having a suitor read your diary before a first date. I had no idea what a diary or a first date was but she said it would put the female at a distinct disadvantage. I apologize.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong.” I cup his cheek with my palm as I inspect him. Prominent cheekbones, furred pelt, canines that peek out when he says certain letters, and those gorgeous eyes.
“Do you really believe that?” he asks, penetrating me with his gaze.
“Now I do. It took me a while.”
“I’ve learned a lot since we talked last.” He mirrors me, his calloused palm on my cheek. I hold his hand close to me so he can’t slip away.
“Like what”
“A little cooking, baking, and music-making. A moment of star-charting—I will not make a habit of that, I found it a terrible combination of difficult and boring. A lot of fighting. Weapons, shooting, and swordplay. When to attack, when to retreat. What arms work best for what type of adversary. Many other things. I had a lot to catch up on.”
“Yes, you did. Do you feel you’ve caught up?”
“No. Not nearly. But I’m certain I will. One thing I never learned the answer to, though.”
“What’s that?”
By the heated look on his face, I know this is going to be important. I also know I stepped into a trap.
“After how many hoaras is it not considered rude to ask a female to have sex ?”
My gaze has never left his, but I try to pierce deeper, as if things are written there that hold all the answers.
That’s when he does it. He hits me with a thousand-watt smile. It gives me all the information I need. He was serious! But he’s tempered it with humor. He’s right, he has learned a lot in the last month.
“I’ll need a computer,” I tell him seriously, then give him my own megawatt smile. “There are some high-level calculations I’ll need to make. And,” I pet his cheek again, “I’d really have to like the guy.”
“So tell me, Willa. What would a guy have to do for you to really like him?”
“Well,” I tip my head and look up at the ceiling, “he’d have to take me to a solarium.”
“Yes?”
“And he’d have to look at me with affection.”
“Yes?”
“And he’d have to tell me about his life . . . over time of course, not all at once.”
“Yes?”
“And he’d dance with me.”
“So have I taken you to a solarium?”
“Yes.”
“And do I look at you with affection?”
“Oh yes. I see that now.” I lean a bit closer, part my lips, and silently will him to kiss me.
“And could I make a date with you to tell you about my life? There’s not much to tell, though. I remember almost nothing.” His gaze flashes to the floor for a moment.
“I’d like to make a date with you,” I say, making sure I fan him with my breath, a gentle reminder that my lips are parted and I’m waiting for our first kiss.
“And can I ask you to dance, Willa?”
Perhaps I’ll have to make the first move for the kiss. I think I made the poor guy wary.
“I’d love to dance with you, Bayne.”
He stands with a powerful grace I’ve noticed many times from afar and he pulls me from my seat. I thought he’d escort me back to the dining room where there are other people, and, more importantly, music. But he pulls me close, tucks me against him, and hums.
It’s like no music I’ve ever heard. Perhaps it’s Skylosian. Maybe it’s something he just composed. It doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t even have to be music. I’m in his arms!
One warm palm lodges at the small of my back, the other cups the nape of my neck. He tugs my pelvis next to his and leads me with the slightest pressure. All the skills I observed in the ludus —his ability to move with lightning speed, his agility, his grace—they’re just as at home on the dance floor as in the gym.
“You’re an amazing dancer.” I can’t help it. The words just popped out.
“Really?” But he’s not interested in words right now, and truth be told, neither am I. He dips his head and puts his mouth to my ear. “I missed you, Willa. I’d grown accustomed to your presence. We barely went an hoara without you touching me, petting me. WarDog liked that. I would too.”
Bayne
Was that too forward? It will take a while to get the hang of this humanoid form, these humanoid interactions. But my hands on her body don’t feel anger radiating off her. Leaning to look at her, I see the tiniest smile on her pink lips. Perhaps the time we spent apart was worth it.
My cock is hard, pulsing against her abdomen. She has to feel it. It’s not subtle. She doesn’t push me away, though, she presses me closer, her tiny hands on the bare skin at the small of my back.
The smell of the arousal she denies is perfuming the air, but I’m not stupid. I won’t mention it. WarDog wants to sniff, but I make him do it on soft breaths. It soothes him.
My lips are at her ear, humming softly. It’s a folk tune of my people. I don’t know why it came to mind just now. I hadn’t remembered it until it started to flow out of my mouth. Perhaps it was triggered by the thunderous cavalcade of memories I had in my room earlier. I push those away. They have no place with me here, now.
Although I need to wait to ask to share pleasure, I don’t think I’ll ask for the kiss. My hunch is it will be better if I just take it.
I quit humming and press my lips to the spot on her neck behind her ear.
“Mmm,” she responds.
That’s a clear message.
She likes us , WarDog whispers. Mate her.
Hopefully soon , I respond.
Gentle kisses follow and receive no rebuke, so my tongue cuts a swath along her hairline. She breathes in on a little gasp, so I forge ahead with kisses and nips punctuated by little tracings of my tongue. She likes those the best, so I dispense them sparingly.
Her muscles are looser than when we started. She’s enjoying this. I’ll take it as tacit permission until she rescinds it. Nibbling along her jawline with my blunt front teeth, I decide to take a chance.
I nip her with the sharp tips of my canine teeth. Maybe it’s fully my decision, or maybe the canine inside me incited me to do it. He really wants me to bite her, to mark her as ours. Down boy, I command with a warning to my voice. We can’t rush her .
She gasps. It’s a soft, quiet sound, but I pull back. The last thing I want to do is hear the word ‘no’ escape her lips.
I don’t, though. Instead, she tips her head, exposing the vulnerable column of her neck to me, a silent request for more.
My cock kicks in excitement and my fingers curl more tightly into her flesh. I scrape a line with one sharp fang along the gentle curve of her jaw. Her eyelids flutter closed and her breathing comes in little pants. The scent of her arousal teases my nose.
I consider asking for a proper kiss, then dismiss the thought and take it. My lips land softly at first, then when I hear no protests, I slant my lips against hers and take what I want, like a marauding army. WarDog thumps his tail in approval as he scoots closer.