Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Something feathered across Samantha’s cheek. The faint sensation persisted, pulling her out of an abyss-like, dreamless sleep and easing her into consciousness. Her brows furrowed; the delicate touch shifted to them, soothing away their tension. Something else stroked her leg, moving from ankle to knee and back again.
“Samantha?” The familiar voice caressed her name and drew her the rest of the way to wakefulness.
Her eyelids fluttered open. She was looking up at a ceiling lit with a red ambience. Blue lines raced across it in intricate, angled patterns, never curving as they faded and retraced themselves ceaselessly. It was an oddly calming display but did not counteract her immense confusion.
Where am I?
The gentle touch shifted back to her cheek, following it down to trace the line of her jaw. Now that she was awake, it startled her; she flinched away and turned her head.
Samantha’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened .
She lay on a huge bed with dark red bedding, and Alkorin was reclining beside her. He was atop the blanket—just like her—on his side, his torso propped up on one elbow. Fortunately, she was fully clothed, but Alkorin wore only a black loincloth.
This was the first time she’d seen him in person without a robe. His holographic image had ended just below his chest during their visual call. For a few moments, she was unable to look away from the lean muscles of his abdomen, chest, and shoulders—or rather, shoulder . His right shoulder was covered by the uppermost portion of his armored prosthesis, which somehow made him more alluring. Her eyes followed the lines of his qal until they settled on his lips.
He smiled; it wasn’t the sexy, seductive smile she’d come to crave—though she didn’t think any of his smiles could be not sexy—but a relieved one.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Where am I?”
Alkorin turned his head to sweep his gaze over the ceiling and walls before meeting her eyes again. “My bedroom.”
“Your—”
His bedroom .
Samantha looked around. The walls were black, sporting the same ever-changing patterns as the ceiling, though they were restricted to smaller panels between cones of soft, white light. Dark, satiny cloths hung on the walls at regular intervals, shimmering faintly in the subtly changing glow. If she went by human standards, this bed would’ve been considered…well, a triple-king, or maybe an emperor . It was massive.
And comfortable.
Why was she here? How did she get—
The attack. She remembered the aliens who had questioned her, remembered Alkorin coming to save her, remembered gunfire. She remembered the ceiling falling …
Samantha raised a hand and touched the top of her head. There was no lump despite the crust of dried blood in her hair, and only one spot was a little tender. She felt perfectly fine, which was surprising considering she knew she’d suffered a head wound severe enough to have knocked her out—it had been more than enough to have caused a concussion.
Alkorin brushed his fingertips across the back of her hand. “We healed you in the medpod. Fortunately, your injury wasn’t serious, so it didn’t take long.”
“What happened?” she asked, lowering her arm. “Who were they? Why were they looking for you?”
His tail—which had been stroking her leg—curled around her calf. His smile tilted, becoming a gentle smirk. “Some people decided to use you as bait to lure me out, I don’t know, and I don’t know. But we’re working on figuring it all out.”
“But… why ? You’re a…a…a document verifier, aren’t you? What could you have done to have people shooting at you?”
Arcanthus’s smile shifted into something rakish. “Well, you know how you’ve been somewhat vague in answering some of my questions? I might’ve been somewhat vague in explaining what I do. And…who I am.”
Unease bloomed in Samantha, rapidly thickening as it spread. She backed away from him.
No. Not again. Please no, not him.
He flattened his hand on the bed, pushed himself up, and curled his other arm around her waist. Her attempt to resist was futile; he dragged Sam closer and positioned himself over her, caging her between his arms. His dark hair fell in a silken curtain around his face, its tips tickling her cheeks.
Intending to push him away, Samantha flattened her palms against his chest—his warm, hard, enticing chest. Something small and hard pressed against her hand; his nipple piercing.
Her will to resist suddenly faded .
Still wearing his mischievous expression, Alkorin stared down into her eyes. “Just listen, Samantha. Allow me at least that much. I promise it’s not as bad as it may seem. Or at least I think it’s not as bad.”
Samantha swallowed thickly. Despite her unease, despite the way he’d trapped her with his body, she…trusted him. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was she doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over? Was she doomed to suffer simply because she was a poor judge of character?
But he hasn’t done anything to hurt me .
Alkorin had been her lifeline since she’d met him, her protector, her…friend.
“Tell me the truth,” she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze.
His lips parted, and his tongue slipped out briefly. There was hunger in his eyes, and his body seemed to heat. The markings on his skin glowed a little brighter.
“Alkorin is one of several aliases I utilize to mask my identity,” he said. “My name—my true name—is Arcanthus.”
Samantha’s brows lowered, and she frowned. He’d lied about his name? It felt, suddenly, like the very foundations of their relationship were in danger of shattering. She recalled when she’d first entered his hovercar—Drakkal had called him Arc before Alkorin interrupted him. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.
“Why?” she asked.
Holding himself up on one arm, he moved a hand to her face and slowly combed his fingers into her hair. “Because I’m a criminal, Samantha, and it’s safest if other criminals—and the authorities—do not know who I really am. Information is power in my world. I prefer to control the information that’s available concerning myself. Very few know my real name, only those I trust…and I trust you. I should have told you sooner. ”
There was so much she should’ve been concerned with in that moment—that he’d lied to her, that he could very easily harm her, that he’d just admitted to being a criminal—but she understood . What he said made sense; he’d just been protecting himself.
“You had no reason to trust me,” she said.
“When they came and asked you about me, what did you tell them?”
Samantha’s heart skipped a beat. “I-I didn’t tell them anything. I swear. I couldn’t—”
Arcanthus pressed his thumb over her lips, silencing her. He held it there for a moment before he brushed it back and forth across her lower lip, following its path with his eyes.
A shiver coursed through Sam’s body.
“I believe you, Samantha. You risked harm to yourself to protect me. That is more deserving of my trust than anything I can think of.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Which you are never to do again, is that clear?”
She nodded, though she knew she’d put herself in danger to protect him if a similar situation occurred. She’d risk herself for him again and again, even having learned of his deception. “Do you…kill people? I mean, apart from what happened at the complex…”
Oh God, I killed people .
The thought struck her with a blast of shock and guilt.
“I…I shot them, Alkorin. I…”
“Shh,” he soothed. “You did what was necessary to keep us safe. You were very brave, little terran.”
Brave .
That word cut through her shock. Had she been brave? She remembered being terrified, being nearly paralyzed with fear—both for her own life and Alk’s.
Arcanthus, not Alkorin .
She hadn’t thought they’d escape alive. And when those aliens had reached the bottom of the stairwell and fired their weapons at him… She’d simply reacted.
“I was?” she asked, her fingers curling against his chest.
Arcanthus nodded. “You were. Bravery is not a lack of fear but acting despite fear.” He grinned, flashing his fangs. “I am proud of you.”
The voice that always haunted her—calling her worthless and weak every moment of every day—fell silent for the first time in years.
“I have killed people. I told you I was a fighter before I came to Arthos, and that is true. I killed people then and I still do, from time to time, when they pose a threat to the safety of myself and my crew. And I do so without remorse.” His smile faded, and a hard, intense light entered his eyes. “I’m not a good person, Samantha…but I would never harm you. Never.”
Samantha stared into his eyes. She believed him without having to think about it. Everything he’d done for her, each of his actions on her behalf, had been to keep her safe. James would never have admitted anything like this to her. He would never have revealed his true self, not like Arcanthus was doing now. James had always blamed his emotions, or drugs, or her for his behavior. She didn’t think he was even capable of acknowledging his responsibility for his actions.
Arc was being honest about things he’d done and would do again. About what he wouldn’t do.
“I believe you,” she said.
Relief softened his expression. “I wanted to tell you sooner, Samantha. I wanted nothing more than to hear my name from your lips, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk scaring you away. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger…but it happened anyway. ”
Samantha still couldn’t quite understand what he saw in her, why he considered her worth these risks.
“Besides…killing, what else do you do?” she asked.
“I’m a forger and a hacker. I craft false identities and install them in identification chips so people can fool Consortium systems.” He grinned and tilted his chin up. “And I am the pinnacle of my craft.”
Despite everything, Samantha laughed; somehow, he made arrogance charming.
His tail slithered a little higher up her leg, its tip brushing the back of her knee through her pants. “I think that has become my favorite sound,” he said in a deep rumble.
He lowered his face, and Samantha stilled, eyes widening. His mouth stopped only centimeters from hers. His nearness, combined with his touch, his scent, and his heat, made it difficult for Sam to breathe, made it difficult for her to form a coherent thought. He overwhelmed her senses.
His eyes focused on her mouth. “I’ve decided to make it my goal to hear you laugh as often as possible, little terran. It drives me mad.”
He settled the weight of his body on top of her, and Samantha’s heart quickened when she felt the hard evidence of his desire through the fabric of his loincloth.
“Are there any other secrets you’ve kept?” she asked quickly, her cheeks flaming.
Arcanthus lifted his head slightly and cleared his throat. “I can’t be expected to reveal all my secrets…but there is one pertaining to you that I should share. Our first meeting wasn’t a chance occurrence.”
Samantha’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I was following you the day we met.”
“ What ?”
Arcanthus slid his thumb back to her lower lip and resumed lazily stroking it. “I’d been keeping track of the terrans immigrating to Arthos when I found your file. The moment I saw your image, I wanted you— needed you. I had to find you, had to meet you. And when you stepped out of your apartment building and I had my first glimpse of you in the flesh, I knew you were the most beautiful thing I would ever see. So, I followed you.”
Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. This big, beautiful, dangerous, wicked sedhi wanted her . Hearing him say it with such vehemence was startling.
Though she was shocked by his revelation, she was also thankful. If he hadn’t been there that day, she could have died, could’ve been trampled under the feet of aliens who would never have given her a second thought. Sam didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened when that gang had accosted her.
She offered him a small smile. “I…guess I should be glad you were, even though that is a little creepy.”
Arcanthus grinned and brushed the backs of his metal fingers down the side of her face. “I’d prefer to think of it as devoted.”
He dipped his head lower and slanted his mouth over hers.
Samantha’s eyes flared briefly before she gave in to him and, eyelids drifting shut, returned the kiss in full. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she parted them to allow him entry. He groaned; the sound vibrated from his chest into her palms. Tentatively, she slid her hands up until they curled around his shoulders, one settled over flesh and the other over metal. His tongue coaxed hers into a sensual dance. She joined hesitantly, licking his fangs.
His kiss was scintillating, demanding, and seductive. Pulses of pleasure spread outward from her belly, leaving her breathless and wanting .
Wanting him .
She must have made a sound—a soft moan, or perhaps a whimper—because Arcanthus broke the kiss and pushed himself up on his hands.
Samantha looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.
He stared down at her. His slitted pupils were dilated, his yellow irises bright, and lust burned in his intense gaze. His glowing qal heavily contrasted his dark gray skin.
“I will never tire of your taste, my flower.” His center eye remained locked with her gaze as the other two dipped, and he slowly licked his lower lip. “And I yearn to taste ever more.”
Those words sparked a surge of arousal in Samantha. She pressed her thighs together, desperate to alleviate the ache blooming between them. James had never done that to her. He’d said it was disgusting, always in a tone that implied she was disgusting, and it had become just another degradation she’d begun to believe. But the way Arcanthus was looking at her now…
She didn’t feel disgusting at all. She felt wanted.
Desired.
He leaned closer again, and anticipation fluttered in her belly. His lips stopped a hair’s breadth away from hers.
“But I fear if I continue, I’ll be unable to stop myself. You’ve had enough excitement already, I’m sure.” Arcanthus unraveled his tail from her leg, pushed himself away, and slid off the bed, leaving the air above her suddenly cold and empty.
Wait…what?
He waved toward a door across from the foot of the bed. “There’s a bathroom in there. Feel free to bathe. I’ve set clean clothes on the counter for you. They should fit.” Arcanthus walked toward another door, this one to the left of the bed, with his tail swaying behind him. He slowed to glance at her over his shoulder, eyes gleaming ravenously. “Let me know if you require anything .”
Samantha watched in stunned silence as he exited the room and the door slid closed behind him.
The breath whooshed out of her in a bewildered laugh, and she covered her face with her hands.
“What just happened?” she asked.
Her cheeks were warm, her lips kiss-swollen, her skin overly sensitive. Her body felt bereft.
She was…horny.
Her pussy pulsed so badly that she was tempted to slip her hand between her thighs and touch herself. She hadn’t experienced that impulse in years—not since she was a teenager exploring her body as she imagined her crush from school. Whatever sexual fantasies she’d once held had burned to ash while she was with James. He’d been her first, her only, and God had it hurt . He’d never been gentle with Sam, even before he started deliberately hurting her.
He’d never caressed her, had barely kissed her, and she couldn’t recall a single time when he’d spoken in such a manner that his words alone were enough to arouse her. What she’d just experienced with Arcanthus…it was new, and it left her all kinds of confused.
Samantha lifted her hands from her face and paused when she saw her sleeves; they were coated in dust. She sat up. The sudden change in position blasted her with a wave of dizziness. Squeezing her eyes shut and pressing a hand to her forehead, she rode out the wave, forcing herself to breathe slowly until it passed. Once her head stopped spinning, she opened her eyes and looked down at herself.
She was a mess.
Understatement of the year.
Her clothes were filthy, covered in pale dust and sporting a few new tears and scorch marks. She couldn’t help but wonder what her face looked like.
“Well, it’s no wonder why he left,” Samantha muttered, pinching the fabric of her shirt and stretching it out to stare at it in disgust.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, she swung her feet to the floor and rose slowly. There was no dizziness, no pain, not even any discomfort. The aches she’d collected over the last few days were just… gone .
She made her way to the door across from the foot of the bed and pressed the button. The door opened silently. Samantha’s eyes widened, and her jaw fell as she beheld the chamber beyond.
The bathroom walls and ceiling were crafted of a black, marble-like material, through which ran glowing blue lines—but instead of tracing endless paths across the surfaces, these lines wavered and undulated to cast an ambient light on the walls not unlike sunlight reflecting off water.
A large rectangular pool lay in the center of the room, illuminated from within by soft blue light. The steps leading into it were positioned on the side closest to the bathroom entrance. Samantha guessed the rectangular panel suspended above the far end of the pool was the shower. The black, bowl-shaped thing in the corner was likely the toilet, and nearby it stood a wide counter with a deep, built-in sink. A tall mirror ran the length of the counter.
Sam’s imagination produced an image of Arcanthus standing in front of that mirror, flexing and admiring himself, and she couldn’t hold in her laughter.
She stepped through the open doorway, and sparkling lights came to life on the ceiling. Samantha turned her face toward them; they were like a field of white and blue stars, twinkling above an ocean. It was beautiful .
A pile of folded clothing rested atop the counter with a pair of slip-on shoes atop it and a hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste beside it. Seeing those things, things she’d so often taken for granted, produced a grateful pang in her chest. She had nothing at the moment, and this little gesture meant the world to her.
Her sedhi was arrogant, but he was also kind and considerate.
My sedhi .
Samantha clenched her fists at her sides and bit her lip. She could still taste him on it.
Was he hers?
How long would his desire for her last? Was he only interested because she was part of a species considered rare and exotic here in Arthos? Would his fascination with her wither and fade?
Worthless. Weak.
She gritted her teeth and shook her head sharply.
“No!”
She wasn’t weak. Arcanthus had called her brave . She hadn’t cowered, whimpered, or cried when he’d come to save her; she’d followed his orders, had taken the blaster, and…
I killed them.
That knowledge made her sick to her stomach, but she’d done what was necessary. She’d persevered in the face of danger. She’d overcome her fear. And, when it mattered most, she’d defended someone she cared about.
I am strong.
She’d come to Arthos for a fresh start, for a new life, but what had she done to initiate that apart from changing her surroundings? When she’d stepped off that ship, she was still a scared young woman who was too afraid to speak up, who was frightened of everyone and everything around her. The same young woman who hid herself beneath baggy clothing. If she wanted a new life, she needed to make the effort. She needed to change.
She…needed to let go of the past.
James was countless light years away; he couldn’t harm her anymore. Why was she still letting him suffocate her mentally? Why was she still letting him chip away at her soul?
Drawing in a shuddering breath, Samantha crossed to the toilet and relieved herself. It took a few moments to figure out the controls, but once she was clean, she tugged her pants up and walked to the sink. A stranger greeted her in the mirror.
Samantha rarely looked at her reflection. She’d always been afraid to stare into her own increasingly lifeless eyes, afraid to witness her sadness head-on, afraid to see the bruises and cuts James left on her body.
The woman staring at her now had the same large, dark eyes she’d known all her life, but there was something new within them, something in defiance of the sadness that still dominated her gaze—sparks of hope glimmered in the darkness.
And through those sparks of hope, she could see deeper—Samantha was still in there. She hadn’t been defeated yet.
She picked up the toothbrush and toothpaste, squeezing some of the latter onto the former, and activated the brush. Its gentle vibration tickled her gums; she found it oddly relaxing. As she was finishing, she noticed a button atop the counter, nearly nestled against the mirror. She pressed it.
A small section of the mirror slid up to reveal a square storage space. Smiling, she placed her toothbrush inside, standing it next to another toothbrush that had to be Arcanthus’s.
After closing the panel, she turned toward the pool and approached it. Her apartment only had a stand-up shower. This was impossibly luxurious in comparison .
She stripped, wincing at the small puff of dust that rose from her clothes when she dropped them on the floor. Her hair couldn’t have been much better. She removed her socks last, and she was surprised to find the marble-like floor warm under the soles of her feet.
Moving to the edge of the pool, Samantha dipped her toes into the water. It was comfortably hot with wisps of steam rising from its surface, and its scent suggested it was already filled with some sort of cleaning agent. She descended the steps. The waterline was at her belly button when her feet touched the bottom of the pool. Smiling, she skimmed her hands over the water’s surface before ducking down to submerge her shoulders.
She moved slowly toward the overhead panel, relishing the water’s warmth. There were buttons along the nearby edge of the pool; she pressed one. Soft blue lights came on overhead. A moment later, hot water rained from the panel. Sam stood up, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back, content to let the water wash over her.
After a few minutes, she returned to the controls, and a bit of fiddling revealed another secret compartment. Its contents—a small collection of soaps and shampoos—rose from the floor beside the pool. She opened one of the bottles, and a little thrill coursed through her; its contents smelled like Arcanthus. Returning to the shower, she used the soaps to wash herself, paying particular attention to her hair. Sam loved that the scent on her skin would serve as a constant reminder of Arc.
She remained beneath the shower long after she’d rinsed, enjoying the hot water cascading around her body. For the first time in a long while, she was relaxed, and it made her reluctant to leave. In the end, it was only the knowledge that Arcanthus was waiting for her that lured her out.
When she exited the pool, the ceiling and floor suddenly changed; each lit up with gentle while light, and the air around Sam warmed. It only lasted for a few seconds, but she was surprised to discover that the moisture had evaporated from her skin and hair when it was done.
Samantha walked to the counter and picked up the clothing Arc had laid out for her. She swallowed thickly at the sight of it. “Oh...”
For years, she’d dressed in baggy, shapeless clothes that hid her body. The dress in her hands was nothing like that. It was refined, form-fitting, revealing .
Her throat constricted as she glanced back at the pile of soiled clothes on the floor. She was tempted to put them back on, but they’d only get her dirty again.
“I am strong.”
She returned her attention to the dress, closed her eyes, and released a long, slow breath.
“I can do this. It’s just a dress.”
Before she had a chance to change her mind, Sam slipped on the dainty, matching panties that had been bundled with the dress and stepped into the long garment. She slid the dress up her body and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Once it was in place, she glanced at herself in the mirror.
Samantha froze.
The dress was a deep red, making her skin look porcelain in comparison. The fabric was at once sheer and silky, flaunting the body beneath while concealing the details. The neckline—or lack thereof—plunged to her midriff, displaying a strip of flesh from her neck to just above her belly button. The slit running up the side of the long, flowing skirt ran nearly to her hip, baring her right leg to her upper thigh.
It was beautiful.
She felt beautiful.
But she also felt exposed .
She’d never worn anything like this—not even close—and she was scared as hell.
Her dark hair hung around her shoulders and down her back in long, loose waves, and her lips were still reddened from Arcanthus’s kiss. A shiver coursed through her at the memory of his mouth coming down upon hers.
Picking up the shoes from the counter, Samantha slipped them onto her feet. Just like everything else, they fit perfectly.
Exactly how much did Arcanthus know about her?
Leaving the bathroom, Sam made her way to the door through which Arc had exited the bedroom. She hesitated as her hand was on its way to the control button. Would he be upset if she left the room and wandered around?
No; he hadn’t told her to stay put, and she wasn’t his prisoner. He would’ve said something if he didn’t want her leaving the room.
Besides, she was curious. She wanted to know what was on the other side of this door, wanted to explore the place Arcanthus called home.
She pressed the button, and the door slid open.
Samantha stepped into the hallway beyond only to come to an abrupt halt when someone—a rather large someone—positioned himself in front of her. She released a startled gasp and retreated a couple steps, lifting her gaze.
The male’s face was familiar, and that familiarity curbed her instinct to flee back into the bedroom.
He was the yellow-eyed cren who’d returned the package she dropped on her way home yesterday. The cren who’d purchased food from Sarai’s booth.
“I-I know you,” she said, brows falling low.
“I know you, too,” the cren replied. “Samantha, yeah?”
Samantha nodded .
“Name’s Kiloq. Boss told me to bring you to him when you got out.”
“Boss? Ar… Er, Alkorin?”
Kiloq snickered. “It’s okay, terran. Anyone he trusts enough to work in this part of the compound knows his name is Arcanthus.”
Relief eased her tension. For a moment, she’d feared she had already violated Arc’s trust by revealing his name. “Oh, okay. Good. You’ve…you’ve been following me, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. He told us to keep you safe.”
“Us?”
“Me and my brother, Koroq.”
She waited for the flare of anger that should’ve risen in her gut. Arcanthus had selected Sam from her identification file, stalked her, lied to her, and sent some of his men to keep an eye on her. None of that was okay. None of that was right . And yet…she wasn’t upset, wasn’t angry, wasn’t scared.
Because Arcanthus still felt right to her.
Being with him felt right.
She was glad for what he’d done; this city might well have swallowed her whole were it not for his intervention. Maybe she would’ve eventually found her way, her place, but there was a good chance she might’ve ended up kidnapped or dead first.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kiloq,” she said, offering the cren a smile.
He returned the smile. Despite the three-centimeter-long tusks protruding from his lower jaw, the expression had unexpected warmth to it. When she’d first encountered Kiloq, she’d been terrified of him. She realized now that he’d had a friendly, gentle air about him even then. She didn’t doubt he was capable of ferocity, but that was true of Arcanthus as well, wasn’t it ?
“My brother, Koroq, is around somewhere,” Kiloq said. “He looks like me, only uglier.”
Samantha laughed.
He chuckled. “Boss is expecting you, terran. Come on.”
The cren turned and walked along the hallway.
She followed him. The soft flow of air over the bare skin of her chest and right leg as she moved reminded her of what she was wearing, and her cheeks burned.
Kiloq led her through several long, high-ceilinged hallways, all of which exhibited a strange blend of the sleek luxury and wealth on display in Arcanthus’s room and a gritty, industrial aesthetic. The bare, unpolished metal and dark concrete somehow paired well with the patterned crimson carpeting and elegant but practical light fixtures. Most of the doors they passed were large and looked durable, but they were made less imposing by the intricate isometric designs etched upon their faces.
The place was like a military bunker that had been purchased by a very rich individual with a taste for extravagant simplicity in his décor.
They turned down another corridor, which ended at a lone door. Kiloq tapped the control panel beside the doorframe.
“Yes?” asked Arcanthus through the speaker.
“Samantha is here to see you, boss,” Kiloq replied.
The door slid open. The cren stood aside and gestured her onward.
Samantha remained in place for a moment, glancing at the cren before turning her full attention to the doorway. She’d been excited at the prospect of seeing Arcanthus again, but now that she was here, anxiety sank its claws into her heart.
I am strong. Even if I don’t feel it.
Taking in a deep breath, Samantha stepped past Kiloq and crossed the threshold .
The doorway led her into a large, long, rectangular chamber. Several huge fish tanks, filled with creatures both vaguely familiar and utterly alien, were built into the wall across from Sam, separated from each other by sections of wall with soft red and purple lights that gave the room a moody luminescence. The strength of those lights was enhanced by the dark floors and furnishings. At the far end of the chamber to the left stood a huge blast door. A carpet, decorated with isometric patterns that were the same colors as the lights, ran down the center of the room. It was flanked by long, low couches on either side.
“You’ve finally come. I was getting ready to join you in the bath,” Arcanthus said, calling her attention to the right.
At that end of the room, a set of wide, low steps led up to a raised platform. The desk set at the platform’s front edge was about half the width of the platform, and it was covered with at least a dozen monitors and holo screens. More screens lined the nearby walls, interrupted only by larger equipment she couldn’t identify.
Arcanthus stood just to the side of the desk. He wore a silky, royal purple robe; the garment hung open to reveal the muscles of his lean torso and his dark loincloth. His lopsided grin made her knees weak.
What was it that made fangs so damn sexy?
It’s not the fangs, it’s him .
The door closed softly behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see an unbroken section of wall between two more fish tanks, displaying not even the slightest hint of an opening.
She faced Arcanthus again. There would be no escaping him.
And I don’t want to.
He descended the steps at a leisurely pace, his tail swaying behind him, his glowing eyes locked on her .
“How was it? The bath?” He raked his gaze down her body, all the way to her toes, and ran it slowly back up.
“It was…wonderful,” she replied breathlessly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You look exquisite, little terran.” His eyes, gleaming with desire, finally met hers again. “And Kiloq got to see you in that dress first. It should’ve been me .” His lips pulled back with that last word, baring his fangs.
The hints of jealousy and possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through her. She blushed and shifted on her feet, squeezing her thighs together. Her earlier arousal hadn’t quite subsided.
He lifted an arm and gestured to the nearby couches. “Please. Sit. I want you to be comfortable.”
Samantha slowly walked toward him, self-consciously clasping her hands in front of her stomach. When she neared the end of the closest couch, she turned and sat down upon it, keeping her eyes on him throughout. Her skirt parted, revealing her pale thigh; she tugged the material back over it and pinned it in place with a hand.
She was caught by surprise when Arcanthus strolled over and eased down on the cushion beside her. Sam wasn’t sure why the move caught her off guard. Arcanthus wasn’t the sort of person who would’ve seated himself on the couch across from hers, and she knew that.
He stretched an arm along the backrest behind her shoulders. His tail slipped between her body and the backrest, curled around her hips, and draped across her thighs, forcing her to lift her hands. Not sure of what to do, she settled her palms atop it. The skin of his tail was as firm, warm, and smooth as that of his chest.
“What is this place?” she asked. That was a safe subject, right ?
Arcanthus slid a little closer, pressing his thigh against hers. “This is my workshop. I spend most of my time in here.”
“Where you…forge identities?”
“Where I put my considerable talents to use.”
Those words deflated her. She knew he was talking about what he could do for her, about what he wanted to do to her, but she couldn’t ignore the darker implication of what he’d said. Of course he’d had other women here. A man like Arcanthus could’ve had almost anyone he wanted, and he’d likely slept with many females. She wasn’t na?ve enough to believe he hadn’t.
Her chest constricted with disappointment and jealousy. Would she be just another name on his list of trophies? An exotic lay to brag about after he was done?
She stared down at his tail. “Did…did you choose the others the way you chose me?”
Arcanthus stiffened, and his tail twitched. “No, Samantha.”
He curled his finger beneath her chin and turned her face toward him, forcing her eyes to meet his. There was a new intensity in his gaze. “ Nothing about you—or how you’ve come to be here—is like anything I’ve ever done. You are the first I sought out personally. The first I’ve taken anywhere. The first I’ve fought for. You’re also the first to know my true name and the first to have slept in my bed. And you will be the only .”
Her stomach fluttered, but she furrowed her brow. “Why? Why me?”
Arcanthus stroked her jaw with his thumb and leaned his face closer, his lips nearly touching her ear. “Because one look at you was all it took to know that you’re mine.”
Samantha stilled. Her breath quickened, her heart raced, and ice crept through her veins. Her vision dimmed.
You are mine, James growled in her head. You exist only for my pleasure .
She could feel James’s breath, hot against her face, could feel his rough hands around her throat as he pounded his cock into her again and again, could feel the burning, tearing pain of his assault.
“Samantha!”
Sam’s eyes snapped open; she hadn’t realized she’d closed them. Arcanthus was kneeling in front of her, his hands cupping her cheeks, his torso between her legs. She searched his face for something to focus on as despair threatened to overwhelm her.
Not James. He’s not James. He’s not James.
“Someone hurt you,” Arcanthus said, his voice lower and deeper than it had been a few moments before. His center eye was narrowed to a slit. “Someone is still hurting you.”
Faint tremors coursed through his hands. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, considering his arms were cybernetic, but she couldn’t deny it was happening. His dark brows were angled down harshly, his nostrils flared, and his lips peeled back to reveal his fangs.
For an instant, cold fear crystallized in her chest; she’d made him angry, just like she’d so often made James angry. But Arcanthus was much larger and infinitely stronger than James. She had no hope of defending herself against him.
It was the gleam in Arc’s eyes that gave her pause and brought her to her senses. It was tinged with a helplessness that she knew all too well. She realized suddenly that he was not angry at her, but for her, angry for what had been done to her.
“Tell me, Samantha.”
There was a pleading note in his voice, a hint of desperation. She guessed that few people, if any, had ever heard it.
“He was my fiancé,” she said quietly.
Arc smoothed his hands down her arms to caress her elbows. “What did he do, little terran? ”
Samantha held his gaze and took in a deep, shuddering breath. “My father died three days after my eighteenth birthday. It was a construction site accident. I was at work when I got the call. He was just…gone, without any chance to say goodbye. He was the only family I had left after my grandmother passed away two years prior. It was…too much. Too soon. I mean, there’s never a good time to lose someone you love, but…”
Arc raised a hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying.
“Go on, little one,” he said.
“I fell into a deep depression. And no matter how much I worked—and I worked hours and hours just to keep my mind busy, just so I didn’t have to think —I couldn’t keep up with the debts his death passed on to me. I was losing the only home I’d ever known. I was losing…everything.
“And then he came. James. He was…good. So good. He treated me nicely, said all the right things. So when the house was finally taken away, I…I wasn’t too upset because I had him. He gave me a place to stay, a place to call home—with him. He even asked me to marry him, and I said yes. I never cared that he had money. He was kind to me, and he made me feel safe. And I thought that I…”
The words lodged in her throat. She couldn’t say them, didn’t want to. She thought she’d loved James, but she hadn’t. She’d loved the mask he had worn in those early days. And she’d just been a lonely, grieving, innocent woman.
The perfect prey for a man like him.
She felt something brush her leg and glanced down to find Arc’s tail curling around her ankle. The gesture seemed…possessive.
“After that, things changed. He changed. It wasn’t subtle either. But I…I had no experience, no knowledge of how things were supposed to be. My mom died when I was just a baby, and my grandmother was elderly. My father was too embarrassed to talk to me about things like that, and I was so insecure throughout my adolescence that I didn’t have any friends to confide in. How was I to know?”
She sniffled, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “It started that first night I moved in. We were getting ready for bed, and he was touching me. I was…excited. I was going to-to lose my vir-virginity to—” The words caught in her throat, blocked by the burning tightness brought on by her crying.
Arcanthus’s thumbs, so gentle despite being made of metal, could not staunch the flow of her tears, which blurred her vision. He was reduced to a gray and purple blotch as he moved to sit beside her. When one of his arms slipped around her waist and the other beneath her legs, she didn’t fight him. She couldn’t.
He pulled Samantha onto his lap, guided her head to rest against his shoulder—his strong, solid, flesh-and-blood shoulder—and held her, one arm wrapped around her while his other hand smoothed down her hair.
Once her shuddering breaths eased, she continued. “It hurt. I knew it would hurt a little the first time, I knew that much, but oh God, it hurt so much. I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen. I felt torn up inside, and he just kept…kept… He only stopped because I vomited, and then he was angry, disgusted. He hit me. He called me weak, worthless, and so many other names.
“He said I was his, th-that I existed only for his pleasure. He used me like that for three years. We never got married, but he knew he didn’t have to marry me to keep me trapped. I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. And the more he wore me down, the more confident he became that I couldn’t leave. His family had money, a lot more than I ever realized, and connections all over the place. I couldn’t even go to the police, because his father was friends with the commissioner, and I didn’t have any money to my name. He made sure of that.
“He’d apologize sometimes, tell me that he only acted that way because he loved me so much, because he was obsessed with me. I drove him mad. I made him act that way. But the only times he really eased up on me were when he brought another woman home, but…sometimes he’d force me to join, too.”
Samantha fell silent. In that silence, she noticed three things—Arcanthus was no longer petting her hair, his body was trembling, and there was a loud, vibrating growl emanating from his chest. She lifted her head to find his markings aglow as though they were on fire. His eyes were focused elsewhere, and his pupils had contracted to such thin slits that they were almost swallowed by his blazing irises.
“Arc?” she asked in a small voice.
His third eye was the first to look at her, followed a second later by the other two. His features were strained; his lips were pressed into a tight line, his brow creased, his jaw muscles bunched. Then he brushed his fingers over her cheek, and his expression softened. “Would that I could’ve spared you all that suffering, my precious little flower.”
His touch, combined with his words, was like a soothing balm to her wounded soul. “He’s gone now. I’m here.”
“But he’s not gone. You’ve carried him with you across the universe, Samantha. Even if he were dead, which he deserves to be, you haven’t yet left him behind.”
Samantha looked away from him in shame. Arc was right. She had carried James with her.
“You don’t have to hold on to him anymore, little terran. Cast him into the void.”
“I’m trying, but— ”
Arcanthus turned her face toward his again. “Let me help you, Samantha.”
“How?”
“You deserve pleasure. You deserve ecstasy.” A husky tone had entered his voice. He flicked the tip of his tail across the back of her knee. “And I would be delighted to provide it to you. Let me erase his stain from your memory.”
Heat spread across her face. “I-I don’t know if I can. I never felt…”
“You’re sitting with the finest male specimen in Arthos, little terran. You have no idea of the pleasure I can make you feel.” He tipped his head toward her, brushing his nose across her hair. His breath was warm against her ear.
He inhaled deeply.
She shivered, and her heart quickened.
“I’ll offer you a deal, Samantha. Set aside your doubt, your hesitance, this one time. Let me show you. Let me make you feel . If you don’t enjoy it…I won’t push any further.”
Could she agree? Could she let go of her fear and experience what Arc was offering?
In that moment, she wanted him more than anything . He was the embodiment of temptation, the epitome of seduction, and a simple glance from him was all it took to ignite a fire in her core.
Arcanthus flicked his tongue against the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, and Samantha gasped as tingles of arousal spread through her.
“What is your answer, my flower?”
“What do you get if you win?” she whispered.
“ You .”