Chapter 13 #2
I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his scent—leather and something earthy, pine and smoke and something uniquely, devastatingly him. My racing heart began to slow, matching the steady rhythm of his.
"There is another way," he murmured after a moment, his voice rumbling through his chest and into my bones. "It would be... unconventional. But it might work."
I pulled back enough to look up at him, curiosity momentarily overriding my anxiety. "What?"
A flush crept across his sharp cheekbones, and he looked almost embarrassed—which would have been endearing under different circumstances.
"We could both... pleasure ourselves. Separately.
And then use our... essence on each other.
The scent alone might be enough to convince the Elder we've been intimate. "
I blinked at him. Once. Twice. Processing. And then, despite everything—despite the fear and the shame and the weight of it all—I laughed. It started as a small, almost hysterical sound, but grew into something more genuine, more real.
"You want us to masturbate and then rub our come on each other?" The words tumbled out between gasps of laughter, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "That's your plan?"
His lips twitched, fighting a smile. "When you phrase it quite like that, it does sound rather absurd."
"It sounds completely insane." I shook my head, the laughter fading but leaving something lighter in its wake. "Honestly, at that point, actually fucking might be easier."
The words hung in the air between us, charged with possibility and danger in equal measure. Nansar's expression shifted, grew serious again, his eyes darkening to the color of storm clouds.
"Have you tried?" he asked quietly, carefully. "Since what happened with Declan?"
The lightness evaporated. I pulled away from him, wrapping my arms around myself again, suddenly cold. "No."
"May I ask why?"
"After they rescued me, I spent over a week in the hospital," I said, staring at the floor because I couldn't bear to see his reaction.
"Getting all the drugs out of my system, having tests, making sure there were no long-term effects.
" I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.
"I couldn't stand for anyone to touch me.
Not the nurses, not the doctors, not my friends.
It was the only way I could feel in control. "
I felt Nansar shift beside me, but he didn't try to reach for me. Didn't try to fix it with empty platitudes. Somehow, that restraint—that respect for my space—made it easier to continue.
"The psychiatrist said it was normal. A trauma response. That it would take time." I laughed, but there was no humor in it, only bitterness. "But it didn't feel normal. It felt like I was broken. Like he'd broken something fundamental in me and I'd never get it back."
"Everyone looked at me like I was damaged goods," I said, the words like broken glass. "And maybe I am."
"You are not—"
"I orgasmed with him." The confession ripped from my throat, raw and bleeding.
I'd never said it out loud before. Never admitted it to anyone, barely even to myself.
"While he was raping me, while my mind was screaming at him to stop, my body still—" I couldn't finish.
Shame burned through me, hot and acidic, threatening to consume me whole.
"It felt like my body was betraying me. Like I was betraying myself. "
"It was not your body that betrayed you," Nansar said, his voice hard as steel. "It was the drugs. Mumje forces physical response regardless of consent, regardless of desire. That's precisely why it's so vile, why its use is forbidden within the Alliance."
I looked at him then, really looked at him, searching his face for any sign of disgust or pity. I found neither. Only anger—but not at me. Never at me. The fury in his eyes was for Declan, for what had been done to me, and somehow that made all the difference.
"You are not damaged," he continued, each word deliberate, weighted with conviction. "You're a survivor. There's a difference."
The words settled over me like a balm, soothing wounds I'd thought would never heal. I wanted to believe him. God, how desperately I wanted to believe him.
"You're no longer averse to my touch," he observed, reaching out with infinite slowness. His fingertips brushed the back of my hand, the contact feather-light yet electric. "That's something."
My throat tightened. "No. I feel safe with you." The admission felt monumental, terrifying in its vulnerability. I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to continue. "I know we need to have sex to survive. I understand that. I just don't know if I can."
Nansar's hand lifted to my face, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips grazed my skin, igniting a cascade of shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the warmth radiating from his touch.
"It wouldn't be just to survive," he said, his voice dropping to something intimate, reverent.
His eyes held mine captive, dark and intense.
"I want you to know that. I think you're very beautiful, Chloe.
And I'm very attracted to you. If we do this, it won't be simply a means to an end. Not for me."
Heat bloomed across my cheeks, spreading down my neck in a rush of warmth. My stomach fluttered with something I hadn't felt in so long I'd almost forgotten its name. Something that wasn't panic or dread. Something that felt dangerously, thrillingly close to desire.
"I'm attracted to you too," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The confession felt like stepping off a cliff. "That's not the problem. The problem is that I don't know if my body will cooperate. If my mind will let it."
Understanding softened his features. "I would never want to make you uncomfortable. We have time to figure something out."
"Do we?" I gestured toward the door, frustration bleeding into my voice. "They're going to kill you in three days if we can't prove—"
"We have time," he repeated, his tone steady as stone. "And whatever happens, we'll face it together. Yes?"
I studied him—this alien warrior who had become my shield, who had claimed me as his mate to save me from a fate worse than death, who now faced execution because of me.
Somewhere in the chaos of the past days, something had shifted.
The walls I'd built around my heart had developed cracks, and through them, trust had begun to seep in. Real trust.
"Yes," I whispered, the word a promise. "Together."
Nansar's expression transformed, the hard edges melting into something tender. "Come," he said gently, his voice like warm honey. "We should eat and rest. There's no telling what the Elder might come up with next."
He was right. My body ached with bone-deep exhaustion, the adrenaline that had sustained me finally draining away, leaving me hollow and trembling.
We ate in companionable silence, though the simple meal of roasted meat and root vegetables did little to ease the knot of tension coiled tight in my chest. Every bite felt mechanical, my mind too occupied with the impossible situation we faced.
When we finished, Nansar rose and began gathering furs from the sleeping platform, his movements deliberate and careful.
"What are you doing?" The question came out more sharply than I intended.
"Making a place on the floor." He shook out a thick pelt, its silvery fur catching the firelight. "You should take the bed. You need proper rest."
"No."
The single word stopped him mid-motion. He turned, surprise flickering across his striking features.
I stood, wrapping my arms around myself as I gathered the courage to voice what I wanted. What I needed. "I want you to sleep with me. In the bed."
Something shifted in his expression—hope warring with concern. "Chloe, I would never wish to make you uncomfortable. After everything you've endured—"
"You don't make me uncomfortable." The words tumbled out in a rush, raw and honest. "You make me feel safe.
" I paused, then added the practical justification, even though we both knew it wasn't the real reason.
"And we need to take every opportunity to act like mates, right?
If someone comes in, if they're watching somehow. .. it needs to look real."
Nansar studied me with those intense blue-green eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or fear. The firelight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the strength in his features tempered by such unexpected gentleness.
"Are you certain?" His voice was low, careful.
I nodded, my heart a wild thing in my chest. "I'm certain."
He set the furs back on the platform, smoothing them out as though preparing something sacred. When he finally settled beside me, the space felt impossibly small—and yet not small enough. There was no avoiding contact, no pretending we were anything but two bodies sharing one bed.
For a heartbeat, old fears clawed in my gut. My muscles tensed, bracing for... I didn't even know what. But then Nansar shifted, giving me room, creating space for me to choose. Always giving me the choice.
I chose him.
Slowly, tentatively, I let myself settle against his side, resting my head on the broad expanse of his chest. His heartbeat thrummed beneath my ear—a rhythm different from a human's, faster and stronger, but somehow exactly right. The sound of it anchored me, pulled me back from the edge of panic.
His hand came to rest on my back, and after a moment of stillness—of waiting for permission I gave with my silence—he began to stroke his fingertips along my spine. Long, slow movements that sent warmth cascading through me, melting the tension from my muscles like ice under the summer sun.
"That feels nice," I murmured, surprised by the truth of it. Surprised that I felt anything good from touch anymore. "I don't mind you touching me."