Chapter 17

It’s misting outside, but it doesn’t matter because I’m outside and I’m not on a spaceship and there are no other people and no drones. It’s a wet cobblestone street. It’s a forest. I’m running on dirt. It’s almost like I’m back on Earth. If it weren’t for the weird cats everywhere, I could be convinced that it were.

Rurik stops running, but he isn’t panting. Not at all.

Me, I’m doubled over, lifting up a finger as I try to form words. None will come. I literally cannot breathe.

“Perhaps this was a poor idea,” he says, looking at me in concern, but I force my tired body up and shake my head, throwing a grin on for good measure.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is amazing. We’re in the woods by ourselves. Nobody knows we’re here. It’s the best wedding present in the whole of the Noctuida.” I snort and wipe my hands on my new pants. They’re leather, did I mention that? I’m wearing tight leather pants and a red blood lace crop top, and I feel cool as fuck. “I look like an urban fantasy character.” I gesture at the outfit. “Is this one of Avril’s designs?”

“No, my princess.” Rurik’s smile shifts like a sin. “It is mine.”

He takes a step toward me, and I take one back. He puts his palm on the tree trunk above my head.

“If we were like Brot and Connor, mated but free, where would you go?” he asks me earnestly. “In the whole of the universe, Eve, where would you go?”

I’m trembling now, just from that. All he has to do is talk to me like, well, the prince of a planet-destroying hostile alien race, and it’s over for me. I scrape my teeth against my lip in thought.

“Home,” I admit, and that feeling is still there. “I want you to meet my mom. She’d love you. My dad … I think you guys would butt heads and I’d like to see it. Also, my little brother … I just think it’d be fun if we could visit together.”

“If I were Brot,” Rurik tells me, taking my hand with his free one. “Then I would apply for a permit to visit Earth. I would buy one of those beautiful human holograms they sell at the black market in Jungryuk, and I would wear it to visit your family. They would perceive me as human; you could share your culture with me. And then we would leave together for a new adventure at the end of the week.”

That’s almost enough to make me cry, but I’m determined not to. I am not wasting this time we have together.

“What would you do if we were free?” I ask him as he steps back from the tree to give me some space. I don’t want space. All I want is him and Abraxas and a life spent together. Although, I must say, the view is choice.

Rurik’s pants are also black leather, tight and sexy and modern. The red dress shirt is appropriately frilly, and the boots look like they were stolen from the set of Bridgerton, but the pants? Rurik is hardcore.

“I would show you the beauty of the stars,” he tells me seriously, and then he takes my hands and tugs me through the thick foliage into the shadows. It gets darker and darker as we tromp into the woods. The ground is springy and mossy, and the cats’ eyes glint as they stare back at us from tree limbs or the bushes bordering the game trail we’re walking on.

As for what sort of game trail it might be, I have no idea.

Rurik seems to know where he’s going, so I follow, trusting that he can keep us safe out here. I don’t worry about anything. I just look around and take it all in. The odd shapes of the tree trunks. The multicolored fireflies flitting through the shadows. The break in both the canopy and the clouds that shows off a pair of moons.

We emerge from the trees entirely a minute later, and I’m left with my heart in my throat.

“Holy shit.”

There’s a clearing filled with oversized flowers and moths. Giant moths. As big as eagles.

“These are moths,” Rurik tells me, and I have to resist stomping on his foot. I turn back to watch as they swoop down in the moonlight and collect nectar from the flowers. Everything in the clearing is gargantuan and a bit jarring to stare directly at. Their colors are muted in the dim light, but I see purple and pink and blue. They’re all fuzzy, too. If Rurik can’t see the resemblance well, then, it’s an act of true denial at this point.

“Thank you for showing me this,” I tell him, and then I narrow my eyes. “And thanks for that little snide comment about the moths. It’s noted.”

He smiles again and tugs me forward, across the clearing, and into the shadows of the woods on the other side. The moths pay us no attention whatsoever.

“How is it that you know where we’re going?” My voice sounds loud in the darkness.

“I have stayed in the castle here as a guest many times,” he tells me, and my heart breaks. He’s showing me all his favorite things here before he’s not able to visit them anymore. I hate that and love it at the same time.

“Have you ever been to the city?” I ask as he pulls me along behind him until we’re standing outside of a small cave.

“I have not,” he admits, running his thumb across my knuckles as he turns to look at me over his shoulder. “I had planned to travel there at a later date.”

Rurik doesn’t have to be specific with what he means. We both know. I thought I had more time to travel.

I let him lead me into the darkness of the cave, crouching to accommodate the low roof. He steers me through the shadows until we reach a spot where we have to crawl. I don’t really expect the prince to drop to his knees and put his leather-clad ass in my face.

He does.

Remember what I said? I’m not only an A.S.S., I’m also an ass girl. And holy Stars does my new man have an ass worth staring at. I worry about his wings brushing against the cave walls, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the scrape of wet rock.

It only takes a few minutes before we emerge into a larger room, and the claustrophobia that was starting to set in dissipates slightly.

“You’re one of only two people I’d ever follow into a cramped cave system, you know that?” I murmur as he pauses on the chamber’s sandy soil bottom and turns around, reclining with one leg stretched out, one knee propped up, a hand extended. Oh so very dukely. I blush. Maybe I am a blusher, but I just hadn’t met the right guy to bring out the trait? Guys. Plural.

I have two.

I am perma-mated to two aliens.

I reach out and gasp when Rurik’s hot fingers curl around my wrist, dragging me close. He pulls me to him and then reclines on his back, tucking me up against his side.

“Is Abraxas the other?” he asks me, but there’s no sense of shame or anger in his voice now, just simple curiosity. “Or is it Officer Hyt?”

“Har-har, you’re a funny guy, you know that?” I respond dryly, snuggling into his side and forgetting for a brief second that he must’ve brought me here for a reason. “Yes, the only other person is Abraxas. I trust Jane, but I definitely do not trust her to lead me into an unknown cave system. She’d pick one at random like in that movie The Descent and end up getting us killed.”

Rurik doesn’t get the reference, and I realize that’s my new reality out here. Jokes about old cereal commercials or viral videos or TikTok trends, they don’t apply anymore. Human songs, movies, pop culture, it’s not a part of the Noctuida.

I expect to feel upset by that the way I did when I first arrived on Jungryuk, but … I don’t. Not anymore. It’s actually freeing, in a way.

“It’s an Earth movie where everyone dies via some crazed cave monsters,” I explain, and Rurik turns his head to give me a look.

“No monsters in here, princess,” he assures me, gently tilting my chin so that I’ll look up. “Just moths.”

I roll onto my back so I can see what he’s looking at. Should’ve occurred to me that it isn’t as dark as it could be. Caves are dark in a way most people have never experienced, the true absence of any light. But there’s an ethereal silver glow in here, softening Rurik’s features and giving him the look of some wild fae thing.

The light emanates from the ceiling, from the stalactites just above us. The chamber’s roof is made of damp, uneven stone, dotted with moss, maybe five feet overhead. I squint and sit up on my elbows for a better look.

Not stalactites, but chrysalis…es. Chrysalises? Chrysalides? Whatever the plural of chrysalis is.

“These are not moths,” I tell Rurik with a grin, relaxing back into the sand and turning my face to look at him. “Moths spin cocoons out of silk; butterflies use chrysalises. You know how you make blood lace come out of your tongue, and how you’re fuzzy, like a cute little silk moth—”

He reaches over and presses a warm hand over my lips to shush me.

“I am not a moth,” he growls at me again, and I shiver all over. He carefully removes his hand, waiting to see what I’m going to spout off next. “But you seem to like them, so I thought of this place. I do not know the difference between Earth moths and Earth butterflies. All I know is that lovely winged things hatch from these to make their way into the world. I was told that tonight is a good night to view such a process.”

“Who told you that?” I ask, wondering if Rurik has any friends. If so, he hasn’t mentioned any. Maybe he doesn’t need any, what with having one-hundred-and-two brothers and all. Err, one-hundred-and-one now, I guess.

“Lyubim,” he answers, and it takes me a whole minute to remember who we’re talking about. Ah. The brother he actually likes, the one I’ve decided not to trust because he was too nice. “Tonight is the beginning of a special moon phase on Dome; they should hatch soon.”

I reach up and put my hands on either side of Rurik’s face, sliding my fingers into the white fur that serves as his hair, through it, curving my grip over his horn-like antennae. He lifts the corner of his lip at me, baring teeth.

“Another date, huh?” I tease, completely and utterly charmed by this man.

By my husband.

I exhale sharply, and Rurik covers my mouth, stealing my breath, punishing my aching lips with a kiss. I strain toward him, hoping for the blood lace and instead finding myself bewildered when he pulls back.

“If you behave, perhaps we will take a boat ride as well?” he teases, and then he rolls off of me so that he can look up at the domed surface of the ceiling. “There, princess.” Rurik points at one of the silver casings above us, and we both fall silent, waiting.

A crack appears, limned in silver light, and then two black legs emerge. Here I am still thinking by Earth standards and assuming there’ll be six legs or, based on what I’ve seen in the Noctuida thus far, maybe two-thousand or so, like the queen. Instead, it’s just four legs followed by a black abdomen and then a silver thorax in the shape of a teardrop. Shimmery wings unfurl, the source of the silver light. It’s not the chrysalis itself that’s glowing but the creatures inside.

The clear shell falls away, and I choke on a gasp as the animal shivers and shakes itself out, revealing a tiny person-like head and silver hair.

It’s a fairy, is what that is.

Well, it’s a fairy with a human-ish head, human-ish arms, but butterfly legs and wings and abdomen. It yawns, flashing sharp teeth, and then it walks upside-down across the roof to the next chrysalis, nibbling on the exterior and helping another of the tiny beasts break free.

Within minutes, the cave is filled with yawning butterfly people.

“Holy shit,” I choke out, unable to keep the words back.

The sound startles the tiny things with their long antennae and their compound eyes, and they take flight, zipping back the way we came and exiting the cave, leaving Rurik and me in the dark.

But not for long.

He turns toward me then. I can’t see him, but I can feel him. And then his wings pulse with red light, and the design on my back throbs in turn.

“Definitely not moths,” I whisper as he smiles, situating his body between my thighs. “Not those things, and not you.”

“Ah, I see you have found logic and reason, my star-destined mate.” Rurik nips my lower lip with his teeth, brushes my hair from my neck, and bites me.

The red light in the room cuts abruptly, plunging us into a sensory-free space where there is nothing but him and me. I’m shoving at my pants even as my mind and heart and soul are consumed by the blood lace firing through my veins, snaking beneath my skin, uncovering all my secrets.

Even if you have to live in the throne room, I’ll make life good for you. I won’t abandon you, Rurik. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I’ll travel briefly, but only so I can bring treasures back to you. I’ll sit with our child in your lap and tell you stories. I’ll fuck you on that throne when we’re alone and craving one another so terribly that it becomes an obsession.

And in the end, when you can’t bear to put such a heavy burden on our child, I’ll take a final ride with you into a very hot sun or a blackhole or whatever it takes to end The Korol for good. No more world eating. No more sacrifices for the throne.

Rurik’s cock presses against me, but something about the tip feels unfamiliar. Sticky, hard, unforgiving. The talons at the end of his claspers.

He pulls his lips away from my neck, and I can feel the blood lace clinging to him and me both, chaining us together at the mouth.

“I have learned a trick to keep the claspers furled,” he breathes, pressing against me as I arch my back. I’m not even sure when or how my leather pants came off, only that I was fumbling with them, and then they were gone. His pants and shirt, too.

We’re both naked, and I can’t shy away from what I want.

I need him inside of me, now. I don’t care how it happens.

“Also from Lyubim?” I tease, but Rurik laughs, the blood lace tangling until he wills it to melt hot down his chin, down my neck, the designs on both our backs flaring so that I can see his bloody vampire face.

“He has no mate; I taught myself while you slept these last few nights.”

And then he surges forward, and I gasp, spreading my legs wide to take the extra girth. If there was any doubt on whether or not the thorn at the tip of his cock would hurt, that’s dispelled as soon as he enters me. I can feel the gently ridged skin of his claspers inside, the persistent but pleasurable stretch of my cunt around him, and a warm heat at the end of me.

With his claspers unfurled, Rurik is a perfect fit. With them wrapped around his shaft, he taps the edge of what I can take without going overboard. I’m full with him, with the heat of his balls tucked inside of me, with his wings draped on either side of us, with his heart beating against mine. He most definitely has one. Now, whether he got that by imprinting on me or if he had one beforehand, I don’t know. I don’t care either.

I wrap my arms around his furred neck, my legs around his pale body, and I rub my locked ankles against his coremata. They bloom for me, glowing as brightly as the blood lace on his wings. The small room is saturated with the smell of his pheromones.

Rurik holds me against him while I catch my breath, showering my face with gentle kisses.

“When you are ready, I will move,” he tells me, his right hand sliding up the smoothness of my belly to cup my breast. He leans down, unfurling his long tongue and flicking it hard against one taut, pink nipple. My skin ripples with pleasure, and I writhe underneath him, lifting my hips in protest.

“I’m ready, Rurik. Fuck, I am so ready.”

He rolls his body against mine, watching my reaction, the blood on his face absorbing into his pale skin.

My channel tightens around him, a hard contraction that draws us even closer together. Rurik is bottomed-out, the red fur at the base of him teasing and stroking me with each thrust. With his left hand, he props himself up, but with his right, he digs his fingers into my hair and grips tight.

A gasp escapes me, and I see where the prince and I might have some fun playing games with one another. We don’t need that here, tonight, with the extra girth and length, with the setting, with the false impression of freedom.

This is what it would be like—could be like—if Rurik was as free as Abraxas.

Our bodies grind and thrust, a primitive mating with sounds that echo strangely in the enclosed space.

I drop my hands from his neck, fingers digging into the dirt on either side of me. My ass is buried in it, and there’s a decent possibility that I’ll be uncomfortable later, but I don’t care.

“You will make such a beautiful and inspiring queen,” he breathes, and it feels as if he’s expanding inside of me, his shaft swelling and stretching. I assume he’s about to come, but that’s not it. It’s his claspers, fighting to get free, to escape my cunt so that they can snatch my hips and do what their DNA is programmed to do.

With a curse, Rurik draws his hips back and slips out of me. I can feel the claspers unfurling before he’s fully free, a twisting spiral inside my pussy that knocks me over the edge. My fingers snatch one of the coremata, yanking the tentacle-like appendage between my legs and pushing it against my clit. I’m injected with pheromones on my most sensitive spot. Not only that, but those silky red hairs along the length of each corema (that’s the singular form), they pet and stroke that sensitive nub with every rough twitch of my fingertips.

Rurik’s claspers jerk apart, spattering me with the wetness of our joining. They aggressively gather my pelvis to him, lifting my hips completely off the ground. My back is still resting on the dirt, but my ass is now suspended in midair. His naked shaft is forced right back into my dripping cunt by the claspers’ possessive grip.

I stare up at Rurik, wide-eyed and shaking.

“Your Majesty,” I tease, voice cracking on pretend scandal. “You’re quite the rake, aren’t you?”

“You haven’t the faintest idea, my princess,” he purrs, lifting a hand to my ass, using it to help brace me so that he can rock himself into my throbbing channel. His wet claspers cling to me, refusing to give us any space for in-and-out thrusts. It’s just grinding friction at this point, but it’s not enough.

Rurik drops us down to the floor, crushing me into the sand with his heavy body, trapping my hand between us and rubbing his corema’s soft hairs against my clit. Everything is sticky. The room reeks of flowers and honey and dirt.

“I haven’t?” I whisper back as he looks down at me. The blood lace patterns hidden in the depths of his eyes are so plainly obvious now that I wonder how it is that I can’t always see them. With my only free hand, I reach up to grab hold of one antennae. “I know you like to give a little spank now and again. Don’t act like such a hero.”

His smile is faintly devious, as silken as the brush of his pheromone powder on my slick skin.

“My biology gives me the opportunity to be your perfect mate, but it is my ornery personality that will make you my pet.” He reaches down and grabs his claspers with both hands, prying them off of my hips and then pushing with all his might until the tips dig into the dirt on either side of my body.

We are chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. Most importantly, we are face-to-face.

“Humans,” I whisper, my lips pressed against his. “Pets, check. Meat—since you drink my blood—check. Mates, check. You’ve done it all, Rurik. Congratulations. Pet, meat, and mate.”

His tongue dives into my mouth, blood lace exploding like wildflowers between our lips, on our skin, over the walls of the cave.

We make love under a cocoon of shadows and red lace, our romance guiding the fate of the entire Noctuida.

I drift into a light sleep. I dream. I snuggle into Rurik. I wake up to his soft laughter.

“Stars, mate, you are exquisite,” he tells me teasingly, and I laugh, sitting up so that he can help me back into my clothes.

“Likewise?” I retort, but it shouldn’t be a joke. I’m serious. “Likewise,” I repeat, cringing a bit as I lean back against the stone wall. I’m a bit sore between my thighs, reaching down a hand to give my plump pussy a squeeze.

“Are you hurt?” Rurik asks, lovingly enough that I know it’s a serious inquiry. It’s dark in here, the designs on his back glowing only faintly enough for me to catch the shine of his eyes in the blackness. “If so, there is a special chair I can procure for you. It will help ease the ache of a hard fuck.”

Okay, now he’s messing with me, right?

“Don’t even offer up your dumb-dumb alien shit to me right now,” I grumble as he moves around under a cloak of shadows. I feel him slip my panties over my feet, and I take over by wiggling into them. There’s something building in my chest that needs to be said, that I’ve waited too long to say. “Rurik, thank you,” I tell him as he eases one of my shaky legs into the leather of my pants. He pauses but doesn’t speak, caressing my foot and playing with my toes. He has none, so I get it. They’re a weird alien feature of mine that he’s into. Rurik might also be an official card-carrying A.S.S. “For everything. For forgiving me for what happened with Officer Hyt. For letting me see Abraxas. For proving that our insta-love mate bond is nothing compared to the actions you’re willing to take on my behalf.”

He looks up at me, the marks on his wings flare bright, and our gazes catch fire.

He doesn’t respond, helping me get my pants on properly and then leading me out of the cave and into the beautiful starlit night. Rurik squeezes my hand as we meander lazily through the trees together, and I can feel his response through our shared emotions, our tangled thoughts.

Thank you for being mine, princess. Thank you for letting me be yours.

We walk in silence back to the cobblestone streets, and couples wave at us as we pass, bow to us, call out greetings from across the canal. It’s nice. It’s normal in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again. Not the bloodred water or the alien company or the floating boats, but the feeling of belonging.

Wherever Rurik is, I belong.

He helps me into one of the boats, and I spend the rest of the night tucked up under his wing and against his side. I don’t know how we’re going to make this work, but I can’t give up on him or the life I want us to have together.

Somehow, someway, I swear to myself that my pluckiness will save the day.

Then again, maybe I’m just as big a liar as Officer Hyt.