‘I’m no naive.’ Yet I felt myself being swayed.
‘The only hands I want on me are yours. Éorik’s. The only people I wish to share my body with is you and him.’ He inhaled. ‘I do not lie to you. Stop saying it. It makes me furious.’
‘You’re no completely honest with me either.’
‘As if you are with me.’
I beat a fist to his chest. ‘I’m trying.’
‘You think I am not?’
‘No! Yes.’ I screamed behind my teeth. ‘I mean–.’
‘By the Boar’s tusk, why do you always expect the worst of me? Enough of this. Enough. Nothing I say will change your mind. Nothing. Do you know how I have humbled myself?’ His eyes were hot. ‘I have bargained. I have gone down on bended knee to offer my seed. I have cajoled. Gone softly. Pulled and twisted myself into knots to please you and I have begged the council of others when I should have heeded my own. I should have done as I have always done. I see it now.’ His hand manacled my throat. ‘From the moment I laid eyes on you, I should have pushed until you broke. From the moment I made you mine, I should have taken.’
He slanted his mouth over mine with bruising force and thrust his tongue past the threshold of my lips.
For a split second, I didn’t react.
He’d been so gentle in his handling of me, the sudden aggression was disorientating. I froze, shocked. It didn’t fit what I’d come to expect of him.
A hot hand branded my middle, and I gasped, the touch searing through me.
The feral chaos inside of me that was an amalgamation of my fears, hurts and regrets came so very close to shoving him away. My stiff fingers curled into smooth, hard flesh. My body melted, and I curled my tongue into the moist, rough slide abrading it, felt him shiver and felt myself come undone.
He stretched over me, pushing me onto my back and down onto the springy grass. Its crushed blades released an earthy scent that blended seamlessly with Beowyn’s liquorice one.
He shoved my leathers down.
I lifted my ass to help.
Panting against my mouth, the gruff, needy sounds punctuated with lusty growls, he fumbled for his own fastenings. I grabbed a fistful of his tunic and dragged it up. I splayed my hands over his abdominals, hands dipping lower to curl around his shaft when it sprung free, velvet over a steely core.
He yanked my thighs apart.
I clamped them around his waist, then he was there, his weight on my hips, lower belly rubbing mine, his manhood silky, dripping, thick and hard.
We made eye contact.
His questioned.
Mine consented along with my frantic nodding and pleading mumbles.
His bulging arms tensed as he steadily canted his hips.
My hand on his flexing buttock fisted as I registered his body shifting space and forging into mine.
He pushed past sensitive muscle, tunnelling balls deep on his first plunge, a piercing stretch.
I arched and whimpered, overjoyed the emptiness between my thighs receded. The gnawing ache was replaced with the urge to buck and grind until I reached the outer limits of consciousness and found ecstasy.
‘Sìne.’ He dropped his head to my breasts. A raspy tongue lapped at my turgid nipple. The nub tingled. He swivelled his hips to seat himself deeper, grazing my clit and causing my body to spasm. He shuddered. ‘My One.’
‘Move.’ My knees squeezed his sides.
He pulled back to the threshold of my cunt, and when the heavy sac at the base of his shuttling cock slapped my ass, the sheer brilliance of the sensation ripped me to pieces. His breath blew against my sweaty neck as he fucked into me. There were tears. They wet my eyes and cheeks. He licked them from my throat and groaned as he moved deeper, harder. Smacks of his flesh against mine didn’t sound like loving, they sounded like harm, but the harder he held me, the more real I felt. The faster he snapped his hips, the more I clung. His movement grew fiercer, and for a moment I thought, this is where he breaks me. Now is when my insides spill out.
My skin was hot, my heart shocked cold, and as he thrust, I clawed his back and bit his shoulder.
He moaned against my mouth and ground his hips, questing ever deeper until he stilled and every muscle in his body swelled and hardened. I felt a surge of warmth and wetness. His length flexed and pulsed. I nearly crawled out of my skin as his seed overflowed and slid down my private flesh, the feel of his come marking me bringing me to the brink of my own culmination. His hand snaked between our bodies and stroked my throbbing nub, the pressure firm, consistent, knowing. My pussy clamped around his sticky cock, and at the painful pleasure helixing up my spine and detonating in my brain, I made a choked noise.
My lungs locked, my ears closed to sound, and the fluttering in my pelvis pushed out in increasing waves of numbing bliss that curled my toes and flushed my skin.
I shoved myself onto the length splitting me in two as I writhed against his hand, bucking against him and crying his name, drumming my hands on his back.
He stayed planted inside me, hips rocking, chest heaving.
My eyes opened and locked on his.
Everything he hoped for and I wished for was exchanged in that single look. It formed a bond stronger than the cosmic forces moving the earth we lay upon. I shut my eyes and turned my face away. The tremors shivering my limbs eased as the heat between us dissipated into a replete lassitude.
A tender hand stroked my hair.
He murmured my name, an apology, almost, his tone broken with hope. ‘You may not love me but one day you will. I will hear you say it and I will know peace.’ His heart thumped an alien rhythm over mine. He inhaled, his chest filled and pressing on my breasts. Suffocating pressure. Sublime.
It wouldn’t kill me to love him as openly he loved me. It might hurt in the end, but it wouldn’t kill me. Wasn’t he worth it? Wasn’t I? If I weren’t so frightened, he’d be so easy to love.
I opened my eyes, smile faltering as I glimpsed an angry sky burned blue.
Chapter 33
‘My One.’ Sìne couldn’t tear her eyes from the roiling clouds. ‘Look at me.’ Beowyn cupped her face, the delicate touch at odds with his yowling terror and hammering pulse. ‘Look at me. There. Softly and slowly now.’ She unconsciously resisted his cajoling, strained against his gentle clasp.
Fiery coils whipped from the sky. Not a length from them a shimmering feeler left a smouldering gash torn into the earth. Water sizzled and rock melted into glowing pools of bubbling liquid.
‘What?’ Glassy eyes flicked over the landscape. ‘My God, what is this?’
‘We must run, my sweet. Focus.’ He lifted her onto her feet. ‘Focus on me.’ Legs boneless with fear couldn’t bear her weight. ‘I have you. Hold on to me.’
He hooked an arm around her middle, swept her into his arms, and then sprinted for the idling volcykle.
When he went to tuck her–stiff and mute–into his front so he might straddle the machine, she snapped from her fugue in a violent jerk.
She shook her head as if clearing a fog. Her lips were a white slash across her ashen face. ‘I’m okay.’ She jumped onto the volcykle behind him, and he immediately disengaged the breaks.
On a pitched whine, the machine shot forward.
Smouldering trees flickered past in a blur. Naked sunlight drank the moisture from the soil and air–from everything.
Sandy loam churning below them dried to kindling, a mere spark from catching flame.
Screams exploded from his mate, her slender arms cutting into his middle with unexpected force.
Instinct pulled the blaster from the holster near his boot. Training from aeons past had his finger slipping over the trigger as he smoothly jacked his arm up and fired. Above them, a falling tree bole split into two. They raced through its jagged branches, thick boughs wreathed in flames, coming so close, he felt the scrape of bark on his arms.
Skidding to a stop, he twisted at the waist. He peeled Sìne’s arms from his waist. He thrust t
he chunky blaster into her palm. ‘Here.’ He grabbed the other near his knee, and this time she took it. ‘Fire at anything blocking our path. Do not forget to look up. If the obstruction is too big, I will find another way.’
‘Aye.’ Her voice didn’t tremble.
He sped off and weaved past old growth burning to the ground.
Beowyn grimaced thinking of all that had been lost during the last solar storm when he was a cub.
Fyn’s waking had lasted a gruelling half-rotation, the devastation the sun caused record-breaking.
Oda had woken ravenous.
Velocity kept the worst of the smoke from being inhaled, but the further they travelled, the worse it became.
Sìne’s hands hovered either side of his head. Her shots to make a path were steady and tactical. Quick puffs of air on the side of his neck were his only clue as to her mental state.
Crouched above the seat, her bare feet gripping the boot pegs, she ducked and swayed with his movement, keeping them balanced as he piloted.
Beowyn’s heart sank when he broke free of the tree line and rocketed across the disturbed dark waters.
Twisting shades of purple and blue, a maelstrom of searing heat, the supercell of the solar flare spiralled above Grand Atoll, the vortexes spitting lightning and the pillars of smoke dominating the skyline portents of the firestorm to come.
Sand sprayed on the palace steps, and he jerked his chin for Sìne to disembark. Waiting on the bottom step, barking orders to grim-faced Paladins, Éorik shifted the pile of clothes he held onto one arm and reached for her.
Relief smoothed lines etched into his brow. ‘I was about to look for you. I have your battlesuit here, Beowyn.’
‘My daughter?’ Sìne dropped the blasters. Her reddened fingers gripped his cloak. ‘Where is she?’
‘Fergie is safe inside with your kin.’ Éorik’s gaze skipped to Beowyn.
A spark of humour had lighted his eyes before duty doused it.
Belatedly, Beowyn realised he and his One were both half-naked. What little fabric they wore was torn.
Éorik handed over the leathers then faced Sìne. ‘Come.’ He unclipped his cloak and set it about her shoulders. ‘You must get inside. Our scientists forecast worse is yet to come.’
Holding up a hand to protect his eyes from the glare, Beowyn noted people scurrying into shielded bunkers across on the public atolls. Paladins armoured in royal green and white escorted the infirm, elderly and young on the ground while herding groups from above on rugged military volcykles.
Solar flares were devastating natural disasters, but his legions were well trained, and his people prepared.
Still, to minimise loss of life, he needed to be amongst them. His presence would inspire calm, a sense of purpose, and continuation. It was his place to assist in the rescue effort, liberating those trapped by the earlier radiation spikes. Any efforts needed to be completed before the brunt of the storm breached the atmosphere, turning whatever wasn’t shielded into so much gritty dust, ash and whitened slag.
He dismounted to change.
Éorik led Sìne up the shallow steps through the panicked throng.
She glanced over her shoulder, stride hitching when her attention fell upon Beowyn, next to the volcykle and watching her ascend as he buckled straps and adjusted concealed vents.
‘What are you doing? Come inside.’
The cloak fanned out at her feet, making her body a shadowy column.
Her beauty was not so simple as a pretty face. It was in the straight line of her spine, the intense focus in her eyes.
The jut of defiance in her chin.
‘There is no point.’ His voice barely travelled over a burst of hot wind. ‘My Commander and I will simply have to come back.’ He looked at Éorik. ‘I wait for you here. I will organise the Paladin’s in your stead whilst you see my One, our cub and human kin safe.’
Éorik nodded briskly. He took Sìne by the upper arm.
She brushed him off. ‘The sky is literally falling.’ Her pale hand shot up then down. ‘You’re doing what, exactly?’
Beowyn released a breath. ‘My people need me.’
‘You’re replaceable to everyone else but not to me. I need you more.’
‘Sìne.’ Éorik levelled her a hard look.
With a choked sob, she spun and rushed up the steps.
Motioning for him to wait, Éorik jogged on her heels.
Beowyn flung a leg over the volcykle.
He didn’t want to leave. Truth, he was tempted to stay and coddle her. He shook himself and set his jaw. It was not good to dwell on the impossible.
Caring for the Verak people was his calling. Great Alpha. King by right of might. His strength supported a nation. It would be criminal to shuck his responsibilities and hide during the cataclysm ravaging his home.
Paladin troop leaders, designated by the gold bands on their upper arms, gathered in a group by the idling volcykle to await further instruction.
Gaze unfocused, Beowyn flicked a hand, bidding them to speak. They did. Time was short. Rather than hone in on one, he allowed their masculine timbers and female altos to flow over him, dipping into a new stream of information after he gathered crucial detail from the prior. He learned the busy market district was obliterated in the first wave. Loss of life was staggering. He heard the grief in the voices as they spoke guiding the lost and confused family members away from the rubble and ignoring the dying screams of those they couldn’t save. He heard tales of bravery from young paladins, stories of death. A particular retelling of an older warrior who perished saving a mother and cub had his eyes moistening.
He was not too proud to weep for those who served faithfully.
Weary and heart sick, Beowyn held up a palm. ‘Enough. Continue as you are. The High Commander and I will head to the market.’ It was the greatest affected region, casualties higher than he deemed acceptable. It was where his voice and strength were most needed. ‘Take yourselves to safety the moment our scientists give an estimation as to when the main flare will reach us.’
He made eye contact with those who seemed dazed and afraid, silently letting them know he understood their fears, shared them, but fought on regardless.
Hunched backs straightened, quivering chins lifted.
Beowyn nodded, proud. ‘Mighty Boar shelter you.’ The sentiment was returned to him with heartfelt emotion.
They scattered in a boot-stomping sort of ordered confusion.
His Commander returned, suited and ready. He stood on the back of the volcykle much like Sìne had. ‘Go.’
Halfway to Grand Atoll, they passed a family struggling with their injured children. They gave up the machine. Giving the stunned father a rudimentary understanding of the controls, they then carried on towards the atoll on foot.
Beowyn and Éorik ran across the agitated shoals. The usually cool waters were uncomfortably hot. Seismic activity caused by the unstable atmosphere churned the molten earth deep beneath the bedrock. They reassured those fleeing to the palace as they travelled, bolstering stray groups of Paladins overwhelmed by the sheer number of people turning to them for guidance.
Countless do-gooders offered to turn around and help with the search and rescue effort but were firmly sent on their way. What the average person did not realise was while they may possess a skill which might prove useful in a calm, safe environment, other crucial skills they lacked would cause them and others to be harmed during a catastrophe. Under duress, level-headed, law-abiding denizens were irresponsible, stubborn and even violent. Survival turned the kindest of people into opportunistic monsters–it was a fundamental tenant of nature across the galaxy. If one did not have the tools to handle an irate, frightened individual, or worse, a large, panicking group, what began as a genuine attempt to assist became a drain on resources already in short supply, and a way for the innocent to end up with lethal injuries.
Beowyn checked his SonComs at regular intervals, receiving holoshots from the autonom
ous drones zipping overhead. The images showed heat signatures of living things on the surface of the atolls, as well as the cooler patches of activated energy barriers.
Minor alphas received reports on their territories alone. Beowyn scanned through data from the whole of his domain–the planet of Vayhalun.
With each update, the volume of purple dots signifying people shrank, and the green circles representing the protective domes increased.
Éorik finished speaking with a senior Paladin who was an expert in handling fires and predicting their spread.
Verakan warriors were trained in basic disaster management and rescue techniques, but most troops within Beowyn’s legions were predisposed to a certain method of operation, which is why some preferred working from volcycles, others down on the ground.
Within those subsets were squads specialising in certain tasks, such as mining and containment of chemical hazards. Éorik sent one such specialist female off to a central meeting station to coordinate the last ditch effort to contain the spread of flames on Grand Atoll’s outskirts, giving the citizens as much time as possible to reach sanctuary.
Éorik’s war shroud flapped against his legs. The black fabric fluttered on a gust of dusty heat, streaming behind him as a nimbus cloud.
One leg hitched to brace against the rubble, his raptor-keen gaze focused on the widespread destruction.
Bluish rays from Oda defined his silhouette, blinding, so bright shadows burned away except for the one cast over his features, the anguish carved too deep for the sun to blot.
‘It is bad,’ he said.
Beowyn chafed his horn. ‘Your optimism comforts me.’ He surveyed Grand Atoll and felt a swell of grief.
Horrific was a better descriptor.
A fair majority of the damage was due to commercial transports plummeting from the sky roads, and glitchy machinery creating confusion and accidents. Like most developed planets, Vayhauln was cocooned by advanced technology that underpinned countless aspects of daily life. It was not as vital as it was on worlds like Paniki and Zoi Quay, nor as trivial as it was on insular planets like Rök and Vøtkyr, but enough to inspire terror in the populace.