19. Tan

19

Tan

I can hear Skylar, her voice ringing clear even over the din of the roaring crowd. "Down! Tan, down!"

My body and heart listens before my mind can understand, and I twist, rolling across the floor.

Quayl's staff clatters against the floor and I feel a breeze of something passing over me though his tail is nowhere close.

I come up ready to fight. Quayl loses his expression of calm, and I see pure rage and bloodlust in his eyes. "That human is a curse upon you. She will be interrogated. Tested. If you do not have the guts to do what is right, I will. "

"You will not touch her, and you will not speak her name." I sweep my tail low, connecting with Quayl's ankle, while striking his jaw with the staff in the opposite direction. He grunts as his leg buckles, sending him crashing down beside me. It gives me the respite I need. I tremble with exertion but somehow stagger back to my feet, determined to keep Skylar's fate in my own claws.

Quayl snarls and attempts to right himself, but I am on him in an instant, pinning him to the ground. My claws dig into his shoulders, drawing azure blood. "Yield, Quayl," I hiss through clenched teeth.

"No," he snarls back, his eyes blazing with hate.

I knew Quayl sought power, but this level of rage is not merely the product of ambition. This is a deeper wound. "What have I done to make you hate me?" I hiss.

He moves, and I feel something press into my neck, though he has not moved his claws or tail. I slam the staff down with all my strength on his wrist, hearing the crunch of bones even as he goes limp.

The crowd is shouting, a dozen voices speaking over each other, but they are not jeers, they are commands and questions and confusion. I throw the staff aside, my vision red with rage and the need to end him for what he has done. For the harm he promises my mate.

The priestess strikes at the gong, signaling my victory, but I hardly hear her as I rear back and, claws bared, strike at his neck. His blood will flow over my hands, and I will taste his flesh on my tongue and rip his—

"Tan!"

Time seems to freeze. I hold Quayl's throat in my hand, one claw pricking through the scales, and glance up to see Skylar's wide eyes. The horror in her gaze is unmistakable, and it cuts deeper than any blade.

I cannot let her see me as a murderer. This would break us.

With a growl of frustration, I release my grip. My body shakes as I stand.

Killing Quayl would have been justice, but I will not become a monster in Skylar's eyes. I catch my breath and roar to the gathered crew, "Take Quayl to the brig!"

Now that the heat of battle has passed, I feel my wounds. Blood tickles my neck, and my ribs and chest throb with every breath.

But Skylar is alive and unharmed.

And I have kept her safe.

"Raiva. Raiva. Raiva." the assembled chant, stamping their boots against the floor and flicking their wings as the Masg carry the unconscious Quayl from the floor of combat. I wipe sweat and blood from my eyes, my wings spread wide. The fear should have passed, but I dare not meet Skylar's gaze as I walk a slow circle around the ring, fist raised to honor my crew.

When I have made the full rotation, Skylar is rushing toward me. I freeze up. Her eyes are wide and I smell fear on her.

Fear of me?

"Are you alright, Tan?" she asks. "You're bleeding!"

"Yes. Just need some time to clean up. "

"You need to see the healer," she insists, reaching to touch me.

And then I realize, she is not scared, and the center of me, which had been wound tight and afraid, eases. I smile. "When did you wake?" I ask, waving for her to follow me. "You shouldn't have come here."

"Tylan said you were fighting to save me. And you could have died!"

"Quayl is no match for me."

The rest of the crew has finished stamping and chanting and some have begun to disperse. Others stare, curious about Skylar, our ships's bounty and the cause of Quayl's challenge.

"The challenge is over!" I bellow "Back to your duties!" Considering the Kohath presence in this sector, it is not safe to run at skeleton crews for too long.

"Where are the healers?" Skylar says, reaching up to touch my jaw. "Someone needs to look at this." Above the warmth of her fingers, the scales have split and split again, and the tips are jagged and torn. It will take a while to repair, and I will bear a new scar. "You're hurt."

But the ache of my wounds fade at her touch. Her scent holds concern and maybe a touch of desire, but no fear. Not of me.

This magnificent female who came to me, who called out to protect me from something. I remember the whip of air passing over me, but Quayl's tail had been nowhere near.

Had he brought a special weapon? If so, how did she see it?

I would have to ask Skylar once we were in our rooms. After I had claimed her as mine. Not as bounty, but bokdazi.

A deep, hungry roar rumbles in my chest, and her brows lower as she cocks her head. I bend and kiss her, not caring that we are in sight of the crew. I want her, and nobody would be fool enough to challenge me in this after what happened to Quayl.

"Take me to our quarters," I whisper against her lips. "I am well enough for what comes next."

Her scent flushes with heat, and her pulse flutters. She does not protest as I scoop her into my arms, holding her tight and burying my face in her soft, wild hair.

The smattering of remaining spectators parts as I stride through the archway. The two Masg who Quayl had insisted watch Skylar follow. I let them until we reach my quarters. "Outside," I order, the touch of a growl in my tone.

They snap their fists to their chests and step to either side.

As the doors shut behind us, I carry Skylar to the bed and lower her to the furs. I am not taking things slow or gentle, and my words are gruff and low as I ask, "Do you fear me?"

"Never," she replies, her fingers caressing the skin behind my ear frill, the soft warmth of her skin sending shivers of desire through me.

"Good." Her word more healing than the strongest of medicines, I bend my head to hers, kissing her as I strip the skinsuit from her beautiful curves. "I would have killed him for threatening you. But I would never harm you. "

"I know."

"Skylar." My chest tightens, and I bare my fangs in a possessive snarl. "You are mine. My treasure, my mate of spirit and heart, and when the ship is safe, and you are strong, I will bind us together so thoroughly that the universe will weep at our bond. Will you accept my bond. Seal yourself to me as I have done you, bokdazi."

Skylar tenses, and I scent something on her. Fear? Uncertainty? Rejection?

"My sister," she says. "You'll help me find her?"

"Of course. Even if I must go to the gates of each of the Seven Hells, whatever you want, I will find a way."

Skylar lets out a nervous laugh. "I mean, I think she's probably just looking for work on another cargo ship." A shadow passes over her features. "If she made it out."

"If you made it through the minefield to my side, your sister certainly had an easier path."

Skylar nods. "Yeah. I know she's alive. I can feel it." She lifts her fingers to touch my cheek. "And I know we're connected. Like, I don't know about spirit matings, but my mom, before she passed, said everyone had someone in the universe for them. And all we had to do was find them and hold onto them as long as you can. So, yes. Yes, I want that. More than anything. I will be your bokdazi, your mate, as long as it's you."

The relief is a river rushing through me, cooling the burning rage. With a deep sigh, I press my forehead to hers and take her hands in mine.

Her skin is so soft. My side aches, and scrapes and wounds sting through my scales, but this is nothing compared to the feeling of Skylar's bare skin pressing against mine. The joy of her declaration. I want her, every part of her against me. I want to taste her. To be inside her and feel her come undone around me.

I lean forward and trail my lips up her neck, breathing her scent in, allowing her essence to fill me as much as my mind is consumed by her. She's still in her skinsuit, and I still in the light armor of the challenge floor.

Skylar's skin pebbles and her hips lift toward mine .

She's ready, and I cannot wait.

I push the plates off my shoulders and slide them down.

"Let me," she whispers, sitting up.

My head feels light, and everything in the universe has narrowed to the points where our bodies connect. As she undoes the straps and slides the plates free, her nails tickling over my scales, her gaze meeting mine.

Our souls are entwined, and this woman is mine.

It's only a few quick motions to shed her skinsuit. She's magnificent. Her hair is a yellow-gold, an echo of my scales, and her body, though soft, holds a hidden strength. My wings open, canopying us as I lean forward and kiss her, her lips sweet and welcoming.

Skylar makes a soft, needful sound, her breasts brushing my chest. They are fuller than Asheraahn females, the nipples a dusky pink, the skin around the texture of flower petals.

What would it be like to have her shed the rest of this armor and press myself against here as she touches be everywhere, sending shocks of pleasure through me?

I haven't yet shed my skinsuit, and the fabric, damp with desire and pre-seed, itches. I groan as her teeth graze my neck. Skylar's hand slides down and traces the bulge of my desire, the friction making me gasp.

"We need to take this off," she says, looking up at me through lowered lids. She slips her hands over the seal and with deft movements, frees me. The skinsuit falls away, and I wiggle out of it, taking her mouth in mine, needing the taste of her, the closeness, the promise of eternity.

With the barrier between us removed, I can feel her soft skin pressing against my shaft. Our tongues touch, and I reach down and cup her firm rear, rubbing against the cleft as she writhes atop me, her hips shifting as her desire grows. I know she wants this, that she will welcome me inside her, and the feeling is, indeed, mutual.

I dip my head, capturing her nipple between my teeth, her gasps and moans encouraging me as I run the tips over her hips. My control is slipping.

She lifts her hips, and I see her wetness glistening, the petal-like folds peeking through the golden curls of her sex. I push her back into the sleeping furs and taste my way down her body. The peaks of her nipples, the curve of her stomach, her skin is silky smooth under my touch as her fingers, her scent, her sweet cries call to my every instinct.

This is different, the sensations stronger and the need almost overwhelming, and I find my self control slipping further and further away as the mating instincts roar within me.

Skylar moans. I'm hovering above the delicate folds of her sex, breathing her in, losing myself in her. When I nuzzle closer, her thighs part, and her hands curl through my hair as she whispers my name, urging me on.

I lap at her folds, the slick sour-salt filling my senses, drowning me. I lick and suck until she is mad from it, moaning and trembling, begging for more. I feel her nails dig into my scalp, and I want her pleasure, want her coming undone at my touch.

I draw the sensitive, hard peak between my teeth, sucking gently and letting the very tip of my tongue dance over the sensitive flesh .

"Stars, yes, yes. I'm gonna…"

Her body spasms, her back arching, hips lifting, and with a growl, I force my tongue deep, wringing another cry from her throat as I drink her, lost to sensation, to taste, to smell.

I want to be inside her so much I can hardly breathe. I want to sink deep into her, make her mine as surely as I have been bound.

"Tan!" she cries.

And my control snaps. I lift her hips, opening her legs and positioning myself at her entrance.

"Yes," she says, her eyes half open, pupils dark and dilated.

I let out a low growl and sheathe myself with one powerful stroke. She is hot and wet and I am home, lost in the feeling of being one with the female beneath me.

"Oh, Stars, yes," she whispers, her expression half ecstatic and half tortured, as her channel grips me tight. I move, slowly, a gradual retreat and thrust, allowing her body to accept me. To grow accustomed to my size, my girth, my length.

Then I stop holding back. My instinct is to rut and fuck her, my need primal and undeniable.

Skylar urges me on, her words growing more and more filthy until I am lost in the tide of passion. She takes and takes, and I give and give, and the moment has gone from exquisite to essential, and I cannot get enough.

She wraps her legs around my waist, and I feel her tense and tighten. The world spins, and every fiber of my body tingles with a building pleasure and an impending explosion.

Skylar's body is lithe and powerful, the muscles of her sex tighten and spasm, wringing pleasure from me with every pulse of her second, perhaps third, orgasm. I am rushing toward that end, the heat burning within me.

This is mine. My female. My Skylar. My bokdazi.

I don't realize I'm crying this out until she presses her lips to mine, her tongue and mine tangling, her taste in both our mouths. Another thrust. "Mine."

Another thrust.

"Yours," she moans. "Bokzari. "

And the orgasm rolls over me, pleasure rippling through me, crashing like a wave as my seed pours forth.

The world goes white and still, and I feel only her wrapped around me, clinging to me, suspending me somewhere between this world and the next.

Our heartbeats match, mine doubled for each one of hers, and we pant together.

When I am able, I lift myself onto my elbows, and, taking a deep breath, I withdraw and roll, bringing Skylar to lie atop me, her head pillowed on my shoulder, her legs entangled in mine, the furs wrapped around us.

"Fex," she says and laughs. "I think I love you."

I grin, kissing her head, and stroking the lines and curves of her body. "As I you. Bokdazi. And we have forever to explore one another."

"Forever sounds about right," she murmurs, her voice soft and drowsy.

"Rest," I whisper, kissing her temple and inhaling her scent as sleep claims us both.