3. Nova

The aftermath of the fight left an eerie silence.

Sneik's unconscious form lay sprawled, and Ashale stood over him, panting, the spice of blood and sweat in the air.

The metallic tang left a slight aftertaste in my mouth, and my skin prickled with the remnants of adrenaline.

When Ashale extended Sneik's coat to me, his fingers were steady, but my world was still spinning, and I couldn't trust myself to reach out.

I stared at his outstretched hand, unable to move.

Memories of my recent ordeal left me paralyzed.

When I didn't take his hand, Ashale did something unexpected.

He began to unbutton his shirt.

My heart raced again, panic surging.

Was this his plan all along?

Was he just another monster, different from Sneik but a monster nonetheless?

But as he revealed his bare chest, it wasn't raw desire I saw in his eyes.

Instead, there was an earnestness, a vulnerability even.

My gaze followed his fingers as they traced a familiar shape on his skin, a tattoo.

It was a bird, nearly identical to the one inked on my own body.

The recognition hit me like a tidal wave, the essence of the ink, that fresh grassy smell, bringing a flood of memories.

His bird was a mirror image of mine, eyes closed, leaning in the opposite direction.

Yet the familiarity, the similarity, gave me a strange sense of comfort.

Our shared mark seemed to suggest a connection, a bond, although I wasn't sure of its origin or meaning.

The hum of the prison faded away as I took in the details: the curve of its beak, the spread of its wings, and the way the green hues danced on his blue skin.

It looked so alive, so vibrant, that I could almost hear its song, feel the gentle rustle of its feathers.

The tattoo seemed to radiate warmth, and the tension in my shoulders started to ebb away.

It wasn't just the tattoo; it was Ashale's calm demeanor and the protective stance he assumed.

My ears, still sensitive from the earlier chaos, could pick up the thudding of his heartbeat, strong and steady.

Taking a deep breath, I finally placed my hand in his.

His grip was firm, reassuring, and his palm was rough against my smooth skin, grounding me.

As we made our way out of the cell, the curious eyes of a gathered crowd bore into us.

I could feel their stares, some in awe, some in disdain.

The floor seemed to hum with tension, but with Ashale by my side, the oppressive atmosphere became more bearable.

We walked in silence, the only sound being our synchronized footsteps echoing through the corridors.

Every so often, my senses would pick up the murmurs from the crowd, the soft shuffle of feet, or the distant hum of machinery.

But all those were in the background, overshadowed by the comforting sensation of Ashale's hand holding mine, guiding me.

Our journey took us away from the heart of the prison, and into quieter dimly lit corridors.

The heavy whiff of oil and machinery was replaced by a fresher, cooler aroma.

I realized we were approaching the outer areas, closer to the open sky.

Stopping at a large, vault-like door, Ashale released my hand and placed his hand on a pad beside it.

The door hissed open.

Ashale's cell was nothing like Sneik's sparse, unsettling domain.

As we stepped in, I was immediately bathed in warm, ambient light that seemed to seep through intricate etchings on the walls.

My eyes danced from one side to the other, trying to drink in the array of colors, patterns, and subjects that painted the room.

The first thing I noticed was the incredible artwork.

They weren't just framed pictures or drawings but seemed as though they had been tattooed right onto the walls.

Exquisite designs of alien animals, some fierce, some serene, adorned the space.

Their eyes, some large and gentle, others sharp and predatory, seemed to peer into my soul.

The designs almost moved, exuding life and emotion.

The artwork smelled of rich, earthy pigments, similar to the ink used for tattoos.

Then there were the stacks of books and magazines.

As I moved closer, the scent of paper and ink wafted to me, reminding me of the libraries back on my home planet.

I saw titles about meditation, fighting techniques, and mindset.

This indicated a depth to Ashale I hadn't yet glimpsed, but it comforted me.

He wasn't just a fighter; he was a thinker, a learner.

However, despite the allure of the surroundings, a palpable tension clung to the air.

Here I was, in an unfamiliar place with a male.

My ears still rang from the earlier chaos, making every subtle sound in Ashale's cell feel magnified.

The soft rustling of papers, the faint hum of the lights, and the distant murmur from outside all competed for my attention.

But it was the silence between Ashale and me that was the most deafening.

He was incredibly close now, his warm breath mingling with mine.

I looked up into his eyes, deep pools of amber that seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages.

He was undeniably handsome, his features sharp yet gentle, nothing like Sneik's brutish appearance.

The nearness of him sent tingles racing across my skin, and I found myself momentarily lost in the intricacy of the patterns on his face, ones that seemed to mirror my own in a way.

"Forgive me," he whispered, his voice a rich baritone that made my heart flutter, "but there's something I must do."

Before I could react, he closed the distance between us, pressing his lips onto mine.

A million sensations bombarded me.

The shock made me want to push back, but the gentleness of his approach made me hesitate.

His lips were soft and warm, tasting faintly of some exotic fruit.

The world fell away, and all I could focus on was the rhythm of our hearts and the dance of our lips.

It wasn't just a kiss; it was an exploration, a journey.

The texture of his lips, slightly rough, contrasted with the softness of mine, and the taste, oh the taste — it was intoxicating.

My senses were alive.

The faint musky spice of him, the feel of his hand gently cupping my face, the distant hum of the prison — all faded away.

It was just him and me.

The kiss deepened, and I found myself responding, the initial shock melting away to be replaced by a passion I hadn't realized I was capable of.

His fingers brushed against the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

Our breaths mingled, a shared symphony of longing and newfound connection.

When he finally pulled away, the absence of his lips was almost painful.

I found myself gasping for breath, my eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze.

My tongue darted out involuntarily, savoring the lingering taste of him, a mix of sweet and spicy.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke, the weight of what had just occurred pressing down on us.

Yet, in that silence, a connection had been forged, one that went beyond words and touched the very core of our beings.

* * *

Ashale's certaintywas evident in his posture, the slight tilt of his head, and the intensity in his eyes.

It was as if he had just discovered the answer to a puzzle that had tormented him for ages.

"Why did you help me?" My voice was a whisper, still shaky from our earlier intimate moment.

Ashale took a deep breath, and his piercing gaze never left mine. "It's easier if I show you," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Without another word, he began to strip in front of me.

My heart raced, not out of fear but from a mix of surprise and anticipation.

He revealed an incredible physique.

I thought back to the sports magazines from Earth, where athletes displayed their perfect forms, each muscle defined yet fluid in movement.

Ashale's body was poetry in motion, each muscle harmonizing with the next.

But it wasn't just his build that left me in awe.

His skin was adorned with tattoos, so familiar yet so foreign.

I stepped closer, tracing the designs with my eyes, realizing they bore an uncanny resemblance to mine.

"You recognize them, don't you?" Ashale's question broke my trance.

I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice.

The tattoos were almost identical.

Yet, while mine portrayed animals from Earth, his had an otherworldly twist.

My bird, with its open wings and sharp gaze, was mirrored by his, but with closed eyes and facing the opposite direction.

My dragon, fierce with flared nostrils, was complemented by his serpentine creature, not quite a dragon but sharing the same spirit.

Ashale stepped closer, gently urging me to stand.

Lost in the gravity of his golden eyes, I let my negligee drop.

He scanned my body, but not in the way most males would.

His focus was solely on my tattoos.

When his fingers touched them, I felt a jolt, like static electricity but warmer, more personal.

Without a word, Ashale positioned his body against mine.

As we stood together, our tattoos seemed to come alive.

The two birds,when aligned, looked like they were nuzzling each other.

My tiger, roaring and fierce, was turning as if to play with his tattooed alien tiger-like creature, which danced in circles.

It was a surreal sight, our tattoos seemingly communicating, telling a story older than time.

"How… How is this possible?" I stammered, my mind racing.

Taking my hands into his, Ashale looked deep into my eyes. "Nova," he began, "our tattoos, our destinies are intertwined. We are fated mates, bound by the stars, destined to find one another."

I blinked, struggling to process his words.

It felt like a fairy tale.

Fated mates?

It was a concept so romantic yet so foreign.

I tried to find words, my mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Joy, disbelief, confusion, and hope all battled within me.

"But… how?" My voice was barely audible.

Ashale's face softened, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the back of my hands. "I don't have all the answers, Nova. All I know is what I feel, what I've always felt, deep in my core. From the moment I saw your tattoos, something within me recognized them, recognized you."

As he spoke, I recalled the myriad of feelings I had felt since I first encountered him.

The electric connection, the comfort, the inexplicable trust.

Could it be true?

Were we truly destined for each other?

Ashale seemed to sense my turmoil. "I know it's a lot to take in," he murmured, pulling me into a comforting embrace. "But, Nova, know this: whether or not fate has a hand in this, my feelings for you are real."

I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his embrace, and the undeniable connection between us.

Whether fated or not, at that moment, all that mattered was him and me.

Ashale's eyes lingered on me, not with lust or possession but with genuine curiosity.

It felt as if he was trying to understand me, decipher me.

Not just the woman standing in front of him but the essence of who I was, how my heart beat, and what made my soul dance.

The atmosphere between us was thick with tension.

There was a quietness in his cell, interrupted only by our breathing.

The cool air tickled my skin, but it was his eyes, fixed intently on me, that sent shivers down my spine.

"Nova," he whispered, his voice deep and resonant, making my name sound like a hymn.

Slowly, almost reverently, he inched closer.

The faint scent of his natural musk mixed with a hint of something sweet and earthy wafted to me, and my breath caught.

His proximity was intoxicating.

Every sense in my body seemed to awaken.

I could see the intricate patterns in his golden irises, feel the warmth emanating from his body, and taste the lingering sweetness of our earlier kiss.

And then, with an urgency that betrayed his calm demeanor, Ashale leaned in.

My eyes fluttered shut, preparing for the impact.

But it didn't come immediately.

Instead, I felt the gentle touch of his breath against my lips, teasing, promising.

Then, with a tenderness that caught me off guard, he pressed his lips against mine.

The kiss was soft at first, a mere brush of lips.

But as seconds turned into minutes, it deepened.

His lips moved against mine with a practiced ease, conveying emotions words could never capture.

The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us lost in this intimate dance.

The sensation was pure magic.

I tasted the faint sweetness of the exotic fruit he must have eaten earlier, felt the rough texture of his short stubble against my soft cheeks, and the gentle pull of his fingers as they threaded through my hair.

His other hand held my waist, grounding me as if assuring me that this wasn't just a dream.

As we explored each other, the kiss evolved.

From gentle and probing, it became demanding, possessive.

Yet, there was no roughness, no urgency.

It was as if time had slowed down, allowing us this stolen moment.

When we finally broke apart, gasping for air, I was dazed.

My lips tingled, and my heart raced.

Ashale, looking equally affected, cradled my face in his hands.

"Nova," he began, his voice hoarse, "I can't explain it, but with you, everything feels… right."

I blinked up at him, my thoughts a whirlwind.

Words escaped me.

Instead, I pressed my forehead against his, trying to steady my racing heart.

We stood like that for what felt like an eternity, finding solace in each other's presence.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was an experience, a journey of sensations and emotions.

A reaffirmation of the connection we felt.

And as Ashale held me close, I couldn't help but wonder if the universe, in all its vastness, had somehow conspired to bring us together.

Whether by fate or sheer luck, at that moment, we were exactly where we were meant to be.