Chapter 4 #3
He is not lying. He truly believes he can kill those things.
“But they’re... they’re giants.”
“In all our passages through the Rift, we have never tried to kill one. We were always Shifting towards another battle, intent only upon reaching the other side.”
His eyes grow distant.
“I have seen signs of them myself. I did not understand what I was seeing at the time. I did not believe it. But when I think back upon those passages now, I know I saw their dark scales.”
A shiver moves along my spine.
“They were sleeping then,” he continues. “But they are not gods. If they hunger, then they are not immortal. If they want, then they can be killed.”
Talarin steps closer. His hand rises slowly to my cheek, and his thumb strokes across my skin.
“I promise you. We will be ready.”
He leans down and kisses me once, softly.
Gently. Tenderly. When he draws back, he extends his hand.
I place mine inside it. My fingers look impossibly small against his, and even my lightly tanned skin looks dark as it is surrounded by marble flesh.
He helps me rise from the slab, then keeps my hand within his until my feet are steady beneath me.
I follow him from the Med-Bay and back towards the kitchen, watching his enormous frame and those lithe, predatory movements.
I don’t know what to feel.
He can be so protective in one moment, then tell me without a trace of mercy that he is going to let his battle-brother brutalize me.
Spank me and spank me hard.
When we reach the kitchen, Talarin stops. His gaze moves to the half-full grinder upon the counter, then to me.
“You did not make the coffee.”
“No, I...”
“The munitions training.” His eyes settle upon my face. “You wanted to get away from it.”
“Yeah. I mean, it was really loud, and...” I search for the words. “It was more that I could feel it. Every shot went through the floor and into my bones.”
“Make the coffee. I will be back.”
He leaves before I can answer.
I drag the wooden crate into place and climb onto it. The beans are still sitting half-ground inside the machine. I finish turning the handle, fill the lower chamber of the moka pot and spoon the grounds into place.
Talarin returns as I set it over the flame. He carries two tiny silver objects upon his palm, each one shaped into a narrow curve.
“What are those?”
“Earpieces. That’s all. You won’t hear a thing while wearing them. They are yours, for whenever our training is too loud. But if I give you this command...” He raises one finger. “You take them out immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He offers them to me.
I take one between my fingertips. It is smooth and slightly warm, no larger than the end of my smallest finger.
“Place one inside each ear. They will conform to you.”
I press the first into place, then the second.
The world disappears.
There is no crackle from the fire. No hiss from the moka pot. No whisper of Talarin’s robes and no humiliating jingle when I turn my head.
Nothing.
The underground room closes around me.
The heavy stone doors seal, cutting away the final strip of light.
Someone pushes these little devices into my ears before the lamps go out, leaving me trapped in perfect darkness upon that enormous bed.
Restraints hold my wrists and ankles. I cannot see the three men surrounding me or hear their breathing.
I can only feel them.
Their enormous hands turning me into whatever position they want. Their huge cocks thrusting into me, one after another, while I lie there blind and deaf.
No kisses. No tender touch. No voices telling me I am good.
Nothing but their bodies using mine.
I tear the devices from my ears.
Sound crashes back into the kitchen. The moka pot hisses over the flame, the fire crackles and the bell rings wildly as I stumble away from Talarin.
“What is it?”
His nostrils flare as he smells the panic pouring from me. He takes one step closer, and I draw back.
“It’s...” I close my hand around the little silver pieces. “Please, I don’t want to lie to you. But will you let me keep this one thing as my own?”
Talarin studies me.
“Very well.”
“Thank you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I really appreciate these. I do.”
The moka pot begins hissing more loudly. I turn towards it, grateful for something simple to do.
“Here.”
I pull it from the flame and pour the coffee quickly, filling one of the enormous mugs. The dark, familiar scent rises between us, and the terrible vision disappears almost as easily as it came.
This man wouldn’t do that to me. Not how he is now. But I’ve seen that dark, dark gleam in his eyes when that other side of him rushes to the surface.
I hold the coffee out to him.
Talarin takes the mug, his fingers closing carefully around it.
“I have much to do. Are you sure you are okay?”
“I’m sure, thank you,” I say, trying to keep the eagerness for him to leave out of my voice.
He watches me for several seconds longer, his brow furrowed with concern. Then he turns and walks into the passage, carrying the coffee with him.
I wait until his footsteps disappear before releasing my breath.