Epilogue, Part Two
I shut the door behind me, take a deep breath, and turn around. It’s a shock, coming face-to-face with Ramsey and feeling anything other than the contempt I’ve built up over so many years.
“How does it feel?” I ask, and he smiles in response. “Ah. You have to remember the teeth.”
X grumbles and shuts his mouth, hiding those sharp incisors; when he bares them again, his teeth are white and blunt, human. “Hate this part,” he says. “Feels so…”
“Flaccid?” I suggest. He tilts his head, not understanding the word, and I huff a laugh. “Never mind. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. You did well today.”
X didn’t talk much, compared to the man he was imitating, but nobody questioned that he was likely shaken by the events of the day.
And there were more pressing matters for what remained of the security team to attend to: one subject dead, two others on the loose.
Plenty to keep them busy while X and I went home to work out the finer details of what comes next.
Today was rather messier than I anticipated, but at the end of the day I got what I wanted: Ramsey dead, and the future of the Facility in the palm of my hand.
I needed Ramsey out of the way, but I knew his successor was likely to be another man of the same cruelty, so instead, I replaced him.
Quite literally. X will wear his skin like a costume and act as the director of the MRF…
until he decides it is time to retire and names me as his successor.
There is a lot of work still left to do.
But at this moment, the only thing I care about is that X is here with me.
He is home with me, and within these walls, at least, there is no need to pretend anymore.
It must be nearly dawn by now, but even after the long and bloody night we’ve had, I feel a rush at the thought. We are finally alone together.
“Let me see you.” I take his hand in mine, fighting a twinge of discomfort at the sight of Ramsey’s cold eyes staring back at me. “The real you. Please.”
He shifts without a moment’s pause. Growing, shifting, turning that pretty shade of sky blue that I’ve missed for so many years.
I push up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck and press myself close, relishing the feel of his skin against mine.
As his tentacles wrap around me, I feel so warm.
So safe. And— I lean in, pressing my nose against his collarbone, and breathe in deeply.
I once thought I didn’t have senses strong enough to smell him like he smells me.
But his scent fills my nose now, musky and sweet and familiar, and nostalgia hits me so intensely that it brings tears to my eyes.
My body remembers that smell. Remembers his touch, his voice, the way he holds me.
Even after all of these years, he is still familiar.
But he’s been locked in hibernation, preserved perfectly. I am the one who’s changed. Will I be familiar to him?
I remain very still as he traces a finger over my cheekbone, down across my jaw, his eyes drinking in every inch of me.
Our time apart must have passed in the blink of an eye for X, but for me, it’s been fifteen years.
And my body, my face, carry those years.
I was a young woman when X declared me his taujak.
At least part of his attraction was that I seemed to be of breeding age.
Will he be disappointed with this new version of me?
“Calli,” he murmurs after a moment. “I did not think it was possible, but you have grown even more beautiful.”
I melt against his touch, pressing my cheek into his hand, my body releasing tension I wasn’t even aware of until now. His hands settle around my waist and he lifts me up effortlessly, carrying me deeper into the house.
I wrap my arms around his neck, laughing, but there are things we need to discuss. I need him to understand. “X, listen,” I say. “We had spoken, before, of children—”
He hums happily, mouthing at my neck. “Yes, now seems like a good time to try for this.”
“But my kind—” I push his face back with a huff of a laugh, wriggle away from his teasing tongue against my skin, trying to focus on my words. “I’m— I’m probably too old to bear children now, X.”
He sticks his nose into my neck again and breathes in deeply. “Your scent has changed, but you still smell of breeding age to me.”
I shake my head, teetering between an uncertain smile and sadness. “It’s unlikely…”
“Hm. Are you certain?” He sniffs me again, and then licks the curve of my neck, making me squeal and laugh in a way I haven’t in years. “We will have to try to make sure. Try many, many times.”
“X!” I laugh. “Of course, we can still do that. But that doesn’t mean I can have a child. I just…don’t want you to be disappointed.”
We’ve reached my bedroom. He sets me, very carefully, on the edge of the bed, and lowers himself to kneel in front of me so he can look me in the eye. “I could never be disappointed. I am with you.”
I take one of his large hands between both of mine and press my lips to his knuckles. “Even if we can’t have children?”
He shrugs. “If we do, if we do not…it is all dhoj.” Before I can question the unfamiliar word, his teeth bare in a wide smile, and he grabs me by the thighs to yank me to the edge of the bed. “And we will still have very, very much fun in the trying.”
I bite back my own grin. “Now, that is a good point.”
“I do not think you know quite how much fun we will have, my taujak. The last time we were together, I was injured and could not have my fill of you as I wanted.”
His hands glide up over my knees, my thighs, my hips. They settle around my waist, spanning it completely with his grip. My breath quickens, back arching to press myself into his hold. “This time I will not hold back.”
“I don’t want you to,” I whisper. “Give me everything, X. My taujak. My mate.”
He pauses at that, tilts his head. “This is the translation you have decided?” he asks. “For taujak?”
I nod.
He smiles, wide and sharp-toothed. “My mate,” he says, and pulls me in for a kiss.
He kisses me like he’s been starving for it.
Soft and slow, and then hard and passionate.
His tentacles slide around me, cocooning me, cradling me against him, as his hands rove over my body.
I gasp as one slides under my shirt, and he groans at the first slide of his fingers over bare skin.
“So warm,” he murmurs. “My mate.” His hands continue to roam upward, caressing my ribcage in his huge palms and then squeezing my breasts.
“You are all softness. So small. Only hands, and no tentacles. Made only for gentle things, and it is—” He lets out a low growl in his throat, frustrated by the lack of words. “It is so perfect. You are perfect.”
“You’re perfect too,” I murmur. “So strong, and—” I smile in delighted realization. “You have more scars now, hm? Not such a pretty boy anymore?”
He blushes purple in a way that tells me he remembers that term.
“Still pretty,” he grumbles. But after a moment his expression shifts, and he tugs my shirt off, leaving only my bra.
“And so are you.” He leans in and slides his tongue against my collarbone, my neck.
I arch for him, gasping, never fearing the prick of his sharp teeth, even after I watched them devour more than a few people.
I tug at his clothes, impatient, and they disappear in an instant. I gasp, and then laugh as his tentacles tighten around me. “Forgot about that little party trick,” I murmur.
His tentacles rip away the rest of my clothes all at once.
My bra unhooked, my skirt pulled down, my panties torn, leaving me bare in seconds.
X lifts himself up and pushes me down on the bed, nuzzling into the side of my neck.
“I forgot nothing,” he rasps. “I remember every detail of you. Your face, your body, your scent—”
He scrapes sharp teeth against the side of my neck and I arch off the bed, whining for more. “But I’m older,” I protest weakly as his tongue soothes the spot his teeth nipped at. “I’m so different. All of those things must have changed.”
“No,” he growls, pressing my body into the bed more firmly. He rocks against me, his hard length sliding against my stomach in a way that makes my eyes roll with need. “You are the same in ways that matter. You are still my taujak. My mate. Mine.”
“Then take me,” I whisper. “Show me. Claim me.”
His tentacles wrap snugly around my wrists, my ankles, my waist, holding me firmly in place as he slides down my body.
He kisses my breasts as he goes, slides his tongue over my stomach, scrapes teeth across my hip bone.
I am shaking with need by the time he lowers his face between my legs, nuzzling between my thighs.
It’s been so long since anybody touched me like this. I’ve waited, relying on only my own hands and my toys to keep myself satiated, thinking only of him.
I once told X that humans don’t have the same concept of a lifelong mate as his people do, but I proved myself wrong. Maybe meeting him changed something in my chemistry, because in all these years, I’ve never wanted anyone but him. I’ve longed for him, ached for him, craved him.
I tried, over the years. But dates felt stale, human men so dull in comparison. I would sit at the table, sipping my wine and wondering, Would this man ever starve for me? Take a bullet for me? Kill for me?
When they touched me, I felt repulsed. Even the way they smelled seemed wrong.
It didn’t take long to decide that I would rather have nothing. I knew no one would ever satisfy me like X did.
Now, his jaw opens, his teeth settling firmly against my skin without breaking the surface, and his tongue slides against my sex.
I cry out in pleasure as he tastes me, tongue swirling against my clit and dragging between my folds, lapping at the gathering evidence of my desire, tasting every inch of me.
He groans against me, eyes shut in pleasure, fingers digging into my hips as he holds me in place.