“No! I am the head of the Holy Council and my word is law. You shall never enter the breeding suite. Guards!”
“I don’t think so,” a new voice said. Solar and Rone were suddenly standing on either side of the High Priestess, pointing blasters at her. The Temple Guards, who had started to approach, halted in their steps.
“One more step and the High Priestess here gets it,” Solar pushed his blaster into her back menacingly.
“You cannot mean that,” one of the guards said in a choked voice. “It is blasphemy for any Kindred male to attack a female—especially a priestess!”
“Well, I’m not Kindred—I’m Havoc,” he shot back. “And the priestess here won’t get hurt as long as she doesn’t try to stop Emily from doing what she needs to do.”
“Thank you!” Emily looked at Solar and Rone gratefully. “What I need right now is for someone to help me get Tragar into the breeding suite before it’s too late.”
“I can’t carry him that far alone,” Daro added.
“I’ll help,” Rone told him. He nodded at Solar. “Just keep your blaster on the High Priestess there until this whole business is over—one way or another.”
“With pleasure,” Solar growled. “Come on, your holiness—I think it’s time you and I took a little walk.”
To Emily’s surprise, Mother Chundra started laughing—a low evil cackle that scraped at her nerves.
“Fine,” she said, still laughing. “Take the filthy, inferior male to the Temple. But you will never find the breeding suite! It is hidden from all but the eyes of a few. Only myself or a priestess who serves the Khalla-to-be directly can see it.”
“Tell us where it is!” Solar dug the muzzle of his blaster into her back but she only cackled again.
“I’ll never tell you! And neither will anyone else.”
“I will.” Lit’aal stepped forward. Her cheeks were still stained with tears but she looked determined.
“You…” Mother Chundra’s face went dark as a thundercloud. “You wouldn’t dare! I will have you excommunicated, you ungrateful little bitch!”
“I don’t care,” Lit’aal lifted her chin defiantly. “I was planning to leave the order anyway so that Daro and I can be together.”
“A candidate must remain celibate the rest of his life if he is not chosen by a Khalla-to-be—you know that!” Mother Chundra declared. “I’ll damn you both in the eyes of the Goddess if you dare to do such a thing!”
“We cannot argue with her now,” Daro told Lit’aal who looked like she wanted to slap the High Priestess. “This whole exchange has cost too much precious time already—we have only minutes to save Tragar. Look—already his breathing is becoming labored!”
“Hurry!” Emily exclaimed. “Come on, Lit’aal, lead the way!”
“Yes, my Khalla.”
Lit’aal raced ahead of Daro and Rone who were carrying the limp Tragar between them as rapidly as they could. Solar stayed behind, keeping the High Priestess hostage. Emily could feel her glaring daggers at her back but she didn’t care. All she cared about was saving Tragar.
She just hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter Thirty-one
“Put him down on the bed,” Emily directed after Lit’aal opened the hidden door that led to the breeding suite. Mother Chundra had been right—they never would have found it without someone to show them. To the untrained eye, the door simply looked like part of the tall, white wall on either side of it. But once it opened, an amazing space was suddenly revealed.
The entire room was covered in small, pink blossoms. It reminded Emily a little of Saskia’a flower bed she and Tragar had slept in on the Wulven Kindred home world. But in this case it wasn’t just the bed—the lovesuckle blossoms covered every available surface. Walls, floors, ceilings, and every piece of furniture in the room were entirely overgrown with them. They varied in shade from the palest blush pink to the deepest rose red and every hue in between. They also gave off a sweet, light scent that seemed to do strange things to Emily.
As she breathed it in, she could feel her breasts aching and her pussy felt so swollen she thought she would die if she wasn’t filled soon. I need to be bred, she thought and knew it was true. If she didn’t have a male make love to her soon and spill his seed deep in her womb, she would literally perish.
But Tragar was the only male she wanted and he was unconscious—possibly dying on the flower covered bed. Could she heal him?
There was only one way to find out.
“My Khalla, is there anything else that you require?” Lit’aal asked her anxiously after they had gotten Tragar positioned.
“Just privacy,” Emily said grimly. “I need to be alone with my chosen mate.”
“Khalla, forgive me, but he is very far gone,” Daro told her gently. “If you should be unable to revive him…do you wish me to send for another of the candidates to stand outside the door just in case you are in need and Tragar cannot…er, service you?”
“No!” Emily shook her head firmly. “No, this is a do or die situation. If I can’t have Tragar, I don’t want anyone. Now everyone go—please! Every moment counts.”
“She’s right. We must leave her to her fate.” Daro nodded and led the other two out of the breeding suite.
“We will pray for you, my Khalla!” Lit’aal said. Then she shut the door and Emily was alone with the barely breathing Tragar, lying on the bed.
No—not barely breathing—he’s not breathing at all!
Emily gasped and ran to him. Her premonition was true—the broad, muscular chest no longer rose and fell. With shaking hands, she put two fingers to the side of his throat searching for a pulse, just as she’d been taught to do in CPR class.
Nothing.
“Oh God, oh no—no, you can’t be dead. You can’t! Tragar please!” She pounded on his broad chest, her eyes hot with tears. “Please, don’t be gone—please, I love you!”
Stop, whispered a familiar voice inside her head. It was the other—Emallia, Emily realized but she no longer sounded like a different entity. She was a natural part of Emily now that they had merged and Emily sensed she had something important to say.
This isn’t how to save him, Emallia told her. Remember, it is the blood or the nectar of a Khalla which may reverse death. Nothing else.
Of course! Emily looked around for something to cut herself with and came up short. There was nothing sharp in the flower-covered room. Everything was soft and covered in a blanket of the pink blossoms.
It would have to be nectar then—her breasts were certainly full enough. Quickly, she ripped open the dark red kimono-type robe she’d been wearing and pulled up the white slip to bare her breasts.
But how was she going to get the nectar out? Before, Tragar had had to suck it out of her and he was in no position to do that now. What was she going to do if her nectar still wouldn’t flow?
It will flow, whispered Emallia in her head. Get next to him, let his skin touch yours.
Trembling and praying she was right, Emily sat on the bed beside the big Kindred and leaned over him so that her bare breasts hung like ripe fruit in his face. Still nothing happened.
Please, she thought. Oh, please, Goddess if you’re really there, help me save him! He’s the man I love, the only one I want. I know you put us together so please…
She pressed one swollen nipple to his slightly parted lips…
Suddenly it was as though something released deep inside her. A droplet of amber nectar began to grow on the tip of her nipple. The drop became a trickle and the trickle became a steady flow. Slowly the rich, amber liquid filled Tragar’s mouth…and began to dribble out from the corners.
“Tragar—Tragar, please,” Emily begged him softly. “Please don’t let it be too late! Please!”
And then the big Kindred swallowed convulsively and his chest began to move again.
Emily nearly cried in relief. She filled his mouth with nectar again and again and every time he swallowed, more colo
r returned to his cheeks and his breathing became more even and normal. His side was healing too, she saw—the awful deep stab wound was actually getting better before her eyes. Soon he looked like a man who was simply taking a nap.
“Tragar?” she whispered. “Hey, sweetheart—are you back with me now?”
The big Kindred opened his eyes and frowned.
“Where am I? Where is Tier Shan?”
“If you mean your horrible wasp-boss, he’s dead. You killed him. And nearly killed yourself in the process, saving me,” she said with mock severity.
“You’re the only thing in my life worth saving.” He reached up to stroke a strand of hair out of her eyes. “But you look different…the changes in your eyes and hair—they aren’t flickering back and forth anymore.”
“I had to let the other come forward in order to save you,” Emily explained. “I think my hair and eyes are going to stay this way now and I might have gotten taller so—uhh!” Her words ended in a groan as a sharp pain went through her lower abdomen.
“Emily?” Tragar sat up, eyeing her anxiously. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know!” She was doubled over in pain now. Her nipples were beyond sensitive and her pussy was so swollen and hot she couldn’t bear to close her legs. “I need…I need…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I need.”
“You need to be bred,” Tragar said grimly. “If your Kit’tara has come fully forward and meshed her mind with yours, you must be in the final stage of Hel and starting your breeding cycle.”
“You…you’re probably right. They said it would happen.” Somehow Emily forced herself to sit upright. She looked at Tragar imploringly. “You can help me, can’t you? Please, I need you, Tragar!”
“I swear I will give you everything you need,” he growled softly, sitting up. The white gauzy slip she had on under the open red robe had fallen down to cover her breasts and pussy again. Now he took it in both hands and ripped hard, parting it down the middle and baring her completely to his gaze.
“Oh!” Emily jumped back. Despite the desperate need inside her, the violent gesture brought back bad memories. He ripped my clothes off…he wouldn’t stop even when I begged…
Tragar seemed to understand what was going on inside her head.
“Forgive me, my Khalla.” He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to startle you—that is simply the traditional way a chosen mate readies his Khalla for breeding.”
“I don’t…don’t know how I feel about it,” Emily said nervously. “I mean, I know my body needs this but I just can’t…I mean, it’s scary.”
“Of course it is.” Tragar stroked her cheek tenderly. “But you have my word that we will take things very, very slowly. I will not breed you until you are completely ready and you ask me to. All right?”
“All right. I guess.” Emily bit her lip. The memory of what Grayson had done was still there but she did her best to push it away. Tragar isn’t like that—he loves me. He’ll never hurt me, she told herself. “Well…” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “I suppose we should get started. And since this is all ripped up anyway…” She nodded down at the torn white slip. “I should just take it off.”
Standing for a moment, she let the ceremonial robes and the ripped slip slide off her shoulders. They fell in a heap at the side of the bed, leaving her completely naked.
“Gods, Emily…” Tragar’s golden eyes grew hot with lust. “You’re so beautiful, my Khalla. How did I ever come to deserve such beauty?”
“You loved me,” Emily whispered, reaching out to stroke his rough cheek. “And you let me love you. So please, Tragar—make love to me now.”
“Slowly,” he murmured. “I ache to sheath my cock to the hilt inside your sweet, swollen pussy and feel my mating fist swell within you. But we must take things slowly, my Khalla.”
Standing, he removed his black leather vest and unsnapped the tight black flight trousers he always wore.
Watching him, Emily thought he looked absolutely mouthwatering. There wasn’t a spare inch of flesh on him anywhere—it was all toned, tanned muscle. Before he could push down the trousers, however, something caught her eye.
“Come here,” she beckoned for him and he came to stand before her where she was seated on the edge of the bed. “Let me look at you,” Emily murmured.
“As my Khalla wishes,” Tragar rumbled, holding still so she could examine him. The deep puncture would in his side, which had been knitting together as she fed him her nectar, had now healed completely. There was only a faint, white scar left. It looked like an injury he’d gotten years ago—not minutes ago.
“Amazing,” she murmured, running her hands over his muscular flank. “I can’t believe you’re so completely healed.”
“You healed me, didn’t you? With your nectar.” He licked his lips. “I can still taste it—so sweet. You’re deep in need, aren’t you Emily?”
Biting her lip, she nodded. She hadn’t had any more of the deep, stabbing pains in her lower abdomen but she had a feeling they would come back if she didn’t start giving her body what it needed soon. Or letting Tragar give it to her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Tragar, I do—I need you.”
“And I will give you everything you need,” he promised. “But slowly, as I said.” He looked at her hands on his tanned side. “Would you like to remove the rest of my clothing or should I?”
“I can do it,” Emily said eagerly. She tugged at the waistband of the black flight trousers and they slid down, revealing the long, hard length of his cock. At its base, she could see the ring of flesh he’d called his “mating fist” already swelling.
God, does he really expect to fit that monster in me? she thought with dismay. There’s no way—just no way.
Tragar must have seen the look of trepidation on her face because he lifted her chin and raised her eyes to meet his.
“Don’t worry about my mating fist, Emily,” he rumbled softly. “When the time comes, your body will open for mine without pain, I swear it. But for now, just let me get you ready.”
“Maybe I want to get you ready.” Emily wrapped her fingers around the hard column of flesh, enjoying the deep groan of pleasure her action brought from his throat. But she had only stroked him once or twice before Tragar was gently prying her fingers away from his shaft.
“I do not wish to spill my seed before it is time,” he murmured when she started to protest. “When you are fully in your breeding cycle, you will need every drop of cum I can produce deep in your pussy, my Khalla.”
“I…I will?” Emily asked breathlessly.
Slowly, he nodded.
“It’s part of the breeding cycle of a Khalla. She needs the cum of her mate deep in her womb over and over again. And once my mating fist is locked inside you, tying us together, I will be able to fuck you and come in you as many times as you need me to.”
“I think I’m beginning to feel the need now,” Emily confessed in a soft voice. “I feel so…so empty inside, Tragar.”
“And I will fill you, my Khalla. But I must taste you first.” He went to sit at the head of the bead and leaned back against the flower covered headboard. “Come to me,” he murmured. “Come naked and unashamed and let me taste you.”
Emily’s heart was pounding hard with a mixture of desire and fear. But she knew the big Kindred would never hurt her and her entire body was burning for him. She craved his touch on her skin, his mouth on her swollen nipples and wet pussy, as she had never craved anything before.
She started at the foot of the bed and crawled sinuously on her hands and knees, loving the feel of his eyes on her ripe, swaying breasts. Her nectar had stopped flowing for now but she could still feel the fullness and knew there was more to give—if Tragar wanted it.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he growled hoarsely as she finally reached him and straddled his lap. “Let me look at you. So fucking gorgeous, my Khalla.”
“Thank you.” Emily blushed at the compliment. She was still getting used to her new, slightly taller body. Her breasts and hips felt fuller and her waist was smaller somehow. Her hair was long and black—so long that it tickled the small of her back when she sat up tall to let Tragar drink her in.
She never would have believed that she could be so instantly comfortable with such drastic changes to her body but it felt right somehow…felt natural. It was almost as though she’d felt incomplete her whole life and now she was whole…or she would be once she was bonded to Tragar.
“Come here,” he murmured, gripping her hips and pulling her closer.
Emily moaned breathlessly as he ducked his head to rub his rough cheeks against the tender sides of her breasts. God, she was so sensitive that everything hurt—everything but his touch, that was. She couldn’t get enough of that.
“Are you well, my Khalla?” he murmured, looking up at her. “Your breasts look full and your nipples are swollen. Do you need me to ease your fullness?”
Emily bit her lip. “You don’t mind doing it anymore? I mean, I know I had to earlier to save your life—it was the only way even though they told me it was forbidden. But now—”
“Now I am the chosen mate of a Khalla and it is my wish to ease and pleasure her in any way possible,” he growled. “I do not care any more for rules or conventions. I only want to make you feel good and ease your pain.”
“Well…they are really full,” Emily whispered, pressing forward.
“Then let me help you. I want to suck your sweet nipples, my Khalla. Want to taste your nectar again.” The look in his eyes was beyond lust and Emily moaned softly as she pressed one aching nipple to his lips.
Tragar took her in gently at first, swirling his hot tongue around the swollen bud until Emily wanted to cry with frustration. He seemed to sense her need because he suddenly sucked hard and deep, drawing her nipple as far into his mouth as he could, pulling hard against the sensitive bud.
Emily gave a little cry and buried her hands in his thick black mane. God, it felt so good—so right to let him do this. She could feel her pleasure building already but she knew it would be a long time before she came. Though having her breasts and nipples played with and sucked had given her orgasms before, this time she sensed her body needed something deeper—something more.