Carys
Flinx found the ruins first.
he sent, his voice stronger now.
We gathered what supplies we could from the speeder. Emergency kit. Water. Medical supplies. Two protein bars. Not enough for extended survival, but enough for tonight.
Then we headed deeper into the caves.
The ruins were older than I’d expected. Stone blocks fitted together without mortar. Chambers carved into the cave walls.
Brevan found a defensible chamber about fifty meters in. High ceiling. Single entrance. Clear sightlines.
I set down the emergency supplies. My hands were shaking. Not fear. Just adrenaline finally wearing off. The crash after hours of sustained crisis.
I sat down on one of the stone blocks. My legs didn’t want to hold me anymore.
“You’re hurt,” Brevan said.
“Just scraped. From the maintenance shafts.” My dress was torn, my palms and knees raw.
He moved closer. Knelt in front of me. He retrieved the medical kit. Found antiseptic. Started working on my hands. His touch was careful. Professional. But I could feel the heat of his skin against mine.
“You saved my life,” I said. “In the office. You could have stayed hidden.”
“I wasn’t going to let him kill you.”
“Why not? The mission was complete. You had what you came for.”
His hands paused. He looked up at me. Red eyes meeting mine. “Because you’re not expendable. You’re not an asset or a tool or property. You’re a person who deserves better than being murdered by a sadist to prove a point.”
Something in my chest tightened. Not pain. Something else.
“Tarsus knew,” I said. “About everything. The escape plan. Renna. You. All of it.”
“I know.”
“He was testing me. Testing us. And I failed.”
“You didn’t fail.” Brevan finished cleaning my hands. Started wrapping them in gauze. “You chose to leave. You chose to fight. That terrified him.”
“I don’t feel like I won. I feel like I barely survived.”
“That’s what winning looks like sometimes.”
He moved to the scrape on my arm. The one I’d gotten squeezing through the blast doors. His fingers brushed my shoulder as he worked. The touch sent heat through me. Not the Vinduthi saliva effect. Just attraction. Pure and simple.
“Brevan.”
He looked up.
“I chose you,” I said. “In that office. When Tarsus offered me a deal. I chose you.”
His hands went still on my arm. “Carys...”
“I know what that means. I know you’re Vinduthi. I know about the claiming bite. I’ve cataloged enough artifacts to understand your species.” I met his eyes. “I chose you. And I’d do it again.”
He finished wrapping my arm. Sat back on his heels. “You chose freedom. Not me. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yes.” His voice was quiet. Certain. “You chose to escape. To live. To stop being his property. That’s not the same as choosing me.”
I reached out. Touched his face. His skin was warm. The gray textured. His horns smooth under my fingers.
“Maybe it was both,” I said.
He closed his eyes. Just for a moment. When he opened them again, something had shifted. The careful distance he’d maintained was cracking.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said.
“Then tell me.”
He stood. Moved away. Put space between us. “The claiming bite isn’t just marking. It’s transformation. Your body changes. Your biology rewrites itself. You become something other than human. Stronger. Faster. Longer-lived. But not human anymore.”
“I know.”
“And it’s permanent. Irreversible. Once it’s done, there’s no going back. You’ll carry my marks for the rest of your life. You’ll be bound to me through a connection you can’t break.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” He turned to face me. “Because I need you to be certain. I need you to choose this without fear or desperation or gratitude. Not because I saved you. Not because you’re running from Tarsus. Because you actually want it.”
I stood. Crossed the space between us. “What do you want, Brevan?”
His hands came up. Framed my face. His touch careful despite the intensity in his eyes. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since you stood in that museum wing and called out my lies. Since you met me in the tunnels and negotiated terms. Since you created chaos in that ballroom to save my plan.”
“Then take me.”
“Not the claiming. Not here. Not like this.” His voice was rough. Strained. “When I claim you, it will be because you’re choosing me. Not because you’re running. Not because you’re grateful. Because you want to be mine and you’re ready for everything that means.”
“What if I’m ready now?”
“You’re not.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “You’re free for the first time in six years. You need time to understand what that means. What you want without a... without him.”
He was right. I knew he was right. But the heat between us was real. The attraction was real. And I didn’t want to wait.
“Then no claiming,” I said. “Just this. Just us. Right now.”
His hands tightened on my face. “Carys—”
I kissed him.
He went rigid. Surprised. Then something in him snapped. His arms came around me and he kissed me back like he was starving for it.
His tongue swept into my mouth. Demanding. Taking. I opened for him and tasted something alien and good and entirely him.
His hands slid down to my waist. Gripped hard. Pulled me flush against him. I could feel every hard line of his body. The muscle. The heat. And lower, pressing insistent against my stomach, proof of exactly how much he wanted me.
I grabbed his jacket. Yanked it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it. Set the Regalia aside. Then his hands were back on me and I was drowning in sensation.
He tugged at the ruined remains of my dress. The shredded silver fabric Tarsus had chosen. The one I’d worn while being displayed.
“I hate this dress,” I said against his mouth.
“Good.” He tore it open. The fabric gave. “I’ve wanted to rip it off you since the moment I saw you wearing it.”
The dress pooled at my feet. I stood in front of him in nothing but torn undergarments.
His eyes went dark. Hungry. He looked at me like I was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
“Beautiful,” he said. Not polite. Not charming. Raw truth.
“Your turn.”
I reached for his shirt. He caught my wrists. Pinned them gently against the stone wall behind me.
“Not yet,” he said. His voice was rough. “I want to taste you first.”
Heat flooded through me. “Brevan—”
“I’ve been thinking about this for days.” He kissed my throat. My collarbone. The raw skin where the collar had been. “Wondering how you’d taste. What sounds you’d make.”
His tongue swept up my neck to my pulse, and a dizzying jolt of pleasure shot through me, making my knees weak.
It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a chemical.
The euphoric agent from his saliva I’d read about.
It was a predator’s tool for seduction, and it was working, making every nerve ending feel hypersensitive.
His mouth found my breast. Hot skin against hot skin. Sucked. Sucked. The sensation made me gasp.
“That sound,” he said. “I want more of that.”
He cupped me with his rough hand, then took my nipple into his mouth. The first touch of his tongue sent pleasure straight through me. Sharper than it should be. More intense.
My hands fisted in his hair. Careful of his horns but needing something to hold onto.
When he dropped to his knees in front of me, I nearly stopped breathing.
“Brevan, you don’t have to—”
“I know.” He looked up at me. Red eyes burning. “I want to.”
He hooked his fingers in my underwear. Dragged them down. I stepped out of them.
Now I was completely bare. Exposed. Vulnerable in a way I’d never been with anyone.
He pressed a kiss to my hip. My thigh. Then higher.
The first touch of his tongue against my center made me cry out. The euphoric effect of his saliva combined with his mouth created sensation that was almost too much.
He licked. Slow. Thorough. Learning me.
My legs trembled. I braced myself against the wall.
“You taste perfect,” he said against my skin. The vibration of his voice sent more pleasure through me.
Then he really started.
His tongue circled my most sensitive point. Licked. Sucked. Found a rhythm that had me gasping.
When he slid one finger inside me, I almost came apart right there.
“So wet for me,” he said. “So ready.”
He added a second finger. Curved them. Found a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes.
“Brevan, I can’t—I’m going to—”
“Then come.” His mouth sealed over me. Sucked hard.
I shattered. The orgasm hit like lightning. My body clamped down around his fingers. Waves of pleasure rolling through me. I cried out. Didn’t care who heard.
My legs gave out.
He caught me. Lifted me easily. Carried me to the stone block and laid me down.
I was still shaking. Still feeling aftershocks.
He stood over me. Started stripping off his clothes. The shirt revealed gray skin marked with gold traceries. Lean muscle. Absolutely gorgeous.
Then he unfastened his pants.
His cock was thick. Hard. The broad triangular head already glistening. And along the shaft, those soft flanges that I’d read about but never imagined would look so...
I wanted him inside me. Now.
“Come here,” I said.
He moved between my legs. The head of his cock pressed against me. Hot. Ready.
“Look at me,” he said.
I met his eyes. Red. Dark. Full of want.
“I need you to understand something.” His voice was strained. “When I’m inside you, it’s going to feel different. Intense. Those flanges are designed to give pleasure. They’re going to move. Flex. You’re going to feel everything.”
“Good.”
“Carys—”
“I want everything.”
He pushed forward.
The broad head breached me. Stretched me. Fuller than I’d ever been. I gasped.
He paused. “Too much?”
“Not enough. More.”
He pushed deeper. Inch by impossible inch. The flanges dragged along my inner walls. Soft ridges that flexed and rippled with each movement. Creating friction. Pressure. Sensation that built and built.
When he was fully seated, I felt impossibly full. Stretched. Complete.
“You feel incredible,” he said. His voice was wrecked. “So tight. So perfect around me.”
“Move.”
He withdrew slowly. The flanges rippled and flexed on the way out. Stimulating nerve endings I didn’t know I had.
Then he thrust back in. Deep. The triangular head hit something inside me that made me see stars.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Like that.”
He set a rhythm. Long, deliberate strokes. Each thrust designed to maximize the sensation of those flanges moving inside me.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
“Harder.”
His control cracked. The careful rhythm broke. He drove into me. Faster. Deeper. The stone was hard beneath me but I didn’t care.
Each thrust hit places that made me cry out. The flanges were relentless. Rippling. Flexing. Creating pleasure that built higher with each movement.
“Touch yourself,” he said. “I want to feel you come around me.”
I slid my hand between us. Found where we were joined. Touched myself while he filled me again and again.
The combination was devastating. His cock. Those flanges. My own fingers. All of it together.
“That’s it,” he said. His voice was rough. Possessive. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”
The orgasm built. Higher. Sharper. Then it broke.
I came. Hard. My body clamping down around him. The flanges responded. Rippled faster. Prolonged everything.
I was crying out. His name. Incoherent sounds. I didn’t care.
He followed. His rhythm shattered completely. He drove into me. Deep. Desperate. Then he buried himself as far as he could go and I felt him pulse inside me. Felt the heat of his release.
“Mine,” he said against my throat. “You’re mine.”
He collapsed onto me. Breathing hard. His weight pressing me into the stone. His cock still buried inside me. Still reluctant to leave.
We lay there. Hearts pounding. Both of us shaking.
After a long moment, he lifted his head. Looked at me. Something vulnerable in his eyes.
“You didn’t claim me,” I said. My voice was hoarse.
“No.” He kissed me. Gentle this time.
He shifted. Started to withdraw.
“Wait,” I said. “Stay. Just for a moment.”
He settled back down. Still inside me. His weight comfortable. Safe.
“I can feel you,” I said. Still hard. The flanges still moving gently. “You’re still...”
“Vinduthi physiology.” His voice held amusement. “We don’t... soften as quickly as humans. Especially when we’re still inside someone we want.”
I clenched around him experimentally. The flanges responded. Flexed.
He groaned. “Careful.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll take you again.”
I looked up at him. His red eyes were dark. Already wanting me again despite what we’d just done.
“Show me,” I said.