Chapter 19

Daios darted through the water, a fish tied to his waist for her as his mind rioted.

He understood it now.

He understood what Arges had meant when he said this feeling was all-consuming. That fighting against this connection was a lesson in futility because it absolutely was. With the taste of her blood on his tongue and the feeling of her hands on his skin, he was lost. Completely and utterly.

He wanted to mate her. He wanted to keep her for himself forever. Every part of his body screamed that he needed to consume every drop of what she was and beg for her forgiveness later.

But that wasn't how mating worked. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter how hard he fought for her, the choice would always end in her lap. She had all the power here, and he knew how this story would end.

He was not the first choice. The instinct inside of him to take her and keep her away from the others was to fool her into thinking he was her best option. He was supposed to show her just how useful he could be. All of that was in his blood to keep her away from anyone else that might sway her eyes. But it wasn't fair.

The People of Water did not do things like this anymore. They allowed the females to pick and choose from the smaller amount of males that were available. And he had never been chosen.

She would not choose him either if she could see all the other males. She would eventually greet his pod and set her eyes on someone like Maketes. Someone bright and light and kind.

She never would have let Daios touch her if she knew that there were other options. If there was another person who could sway her thoughts from Daios.

He knew that. She knew it.

And still, he did not bring her back. Because in some fucked up way, he wanted to keep her to himself.

Sighing, he stared up at the entrance to the facility. He knew he was done fighting against this. He wanted to touch her. Taste her. Know everything about her. He wanted to steal what little he could before they were forced to part. And they would be forced. He was certain of that.

Cresting the surface, he searched for her. Like his eyes didn't even see threats anymore, only the hope that she was somewhere nearby. She was sitting in that strange chair again; her legs crossed and her hair wild around her head. Muttering under her breath, she pressed buttons on the console in front of her and then muttered some more when nothing happened.

Setting the smaller, more consumable fish to the side in the water to keep them cold, he flicked a few droplets of water at her.

They soared through the air, farther than he'd expected, and dropped onto the console itself. With a grunt, she immediately wiped away the flecks with her sleeve before realizing where they had come from.

Spinning in her chair, her eyes found his.

"Daios," she said, breathy and far too excited to see someone like him.

But he was the monster who encouraged it.

Nodding at her, he pointed to the fish. He should go. He shouldn't indulge himself like this because he wasn't sure he would leave. He might even beg her to let him touch her, just this once. Just to know.

She took the choice away from him. Suddenly she was right there in front of him, like she always was. Crossing her legs and wrapping that blanket around her shoulders as she started babbling about someone he didn't know and the idea that she had to get into Alpha. She was always working on figuring out a way to take her father down.

He admired her dedication, but right now he couldn't follow a single word she was saying. Not while he was watching her twist her hair in her hands. She wove the strands together, looping and curving until it was in an intricate braid falling over her shoulder.

Then she kept talking, her hands flying, not with words, but with excitement as she rambled about some service entrance that wasn't being as heavily watched as before. All they had to do was get someone on the inside who could attach yet another something into something, and he didn't care about any of that.

Because the strands of her hair were falling out of that twisted braid. She hadn't attached it with anything, so of course they were falling apart. He wanted to wrap it in his hand and drag her head back. He wanted to know what her throat tasted like and if he could feel the beat of her heart against his tongue.

"Daios?"

The sound of his name drew him out of those thoughts. He moved nothing other than his eyes to look at her. "Yes?"

"Do you want to brush it again?"

Surely he hadn't heard her right. Those words were a figment of his imagination and his greatest hope that she would let him touch her. "What?"

Anya's face burned with that red color, and he never knew what it meant. Her words were a little stammered as she said, "You did it before when it was tangled. I was sleeping, then. But it's... Well, it's tangled again and I haven't found a brush in here. I thought, maybe, if you didn't mind?"

He would do anything she asked. If she wanted him to lie flat in the muck while she used those strange tails to sink him deeper into it, he would gladly lay himself in the cold dirt.

With a slight nod, he felt his mouth go dry as she spun around. She used her hands to angle her body away from him, and then suddenly he had all the access he wanted to that hair that had captivated him from the start.

She started talking again, but he wasn't listening. Not when his shaking claws were so close to her hair. He gently touched just the ends, feeling the softness slide through his fingers like water. He'd never seen hair this color, and perhaps that was what had captivated him from the start.

He didn't want to hurt Anya. Not in any way. So he was careful as he started working through the knots. He tried very hard to listen to what she was saying, but he honestly didn't care.

Her plan to take down Alpha wouldn't work. He knew men like her father, because Daios was eerily similar to the man. The only thing that would stop people like them was blood or bartering.

And he held the General's greatest treasure between his claws right now.

She kept talking until he'd gotten most of the tangles out. Now, he could run his claws through her hair with no snarls standing in the way between him and the luxurious texture.

Carefully, he scraped his claws along her scalp. She tilted back into his touch, her words stuttering as he did it again.

He grinned, even though she couldn't see him. She liked it when he smiled, and he hoped she looked up at their reflection in the glass. He was a looming figure behind her, a monster with his hand on her, and she liked it.

He ignored the urges of his own body as he did it again. Running his fingers along her head and then pinching her strands between his knuckles a little harder, so there was the faintest tug as he continued down her hair. He did it again and again until she let out a little breathy moan that had both of them freezing.

But that sound. He wanted to hear it a hundred times. A thousand. He wanted to bathe in the sound until he could think of nothing other than that breathy moan of pleasure that had escaped from her lips without her realizing it. And he knew she hadn't planned for that to come out.

"Sorry," she whispered. "You can keep going, I just... No one has rubbed my head in a long time."

Did she want to brush that away? Flick it with her tails like it hadn't happened between them?

That sudden, dangerous anger rose in his chest. He didn't like that she was trying to hide her reaction from him, even though he logically knew he had done the same only a few days ago when she'd chosen to brush her fingers along the membranes of his spine.

He had no right to demand more from her. No right at all to hear more of that sound, but damn it, he wanted it. He wanted to hear her pleasure, and he wanted... her.

The madness pressed against his mind and he realized that even that part of himself didn't want to hurt her. Not unless she liked it.

He dug his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp again until he heard the slightest moan again. She was holding back. Trying to keep those sounds from him when he wanted to hear them. He deserved to hear them. He was owed the sound of her pleasure and her pain and every bit of sound in between them.

Her head tilted back as he worked on her head and with a flick of his tail, he moved himself even closer to her. The long, graceful cord of her neck called to him. He... wanted.

The logical part of his mind didn't know what he was planning to do, but did it matter? She was laid out in front of him like a banquet. Her body covered by that stupid blanket that had no right to cover her from his sight.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to that graceful arch of her neck. He let his mouth linger, and then couldn't stop himself from flicking his tongue against her skin.

Her moan vibrated in his ear as her taste burst on his tongue. She tasted so fucking good.

Warm and sweet, her pulse throbbing against his tongue where her heart raced as though she knew how much danger she was in. No, not danger. He shoved the haze away from his mind to realize she had arched in front of him. Her back bowing, she presented herself to him like she had no restraint either.

A low growl rumbling through his chest. He laved her pulse with his tongue. Slow and methodical, he drew the entire bumpy texture down her neck to her collarbone. Drawing back, he knew his sharp exhale would send cold goosebumps dancing down her flesh. And he couldn't stop himself now.

He'd had a taste, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

Another growl rumbled through him as he curved his clawed hand around her waist. The blanket still separated them, and he didn't dare move it. The barrier was good. The barrier reminded him that he couldn't go too far with this, no matter how much they both wished for it.

The texture of her waist was so delicate, pushed in as it was. The sensation of her sharp hip bone pressed against his palm, undulating with her movements.

Holding onto her a little tighter, he pressed her head back against his bad shoulder. So she was braced against him as his instincts went wild.

He watched her expression, her mouth falling open as she stared at his webbed hand, moving across to her belly. The softness there only reminded him of how delicate she was, and how easily he could hurt her.

But that wasn't what he wanted. Not when little, soft panting sounds erupted from her lips. Those were good sounds. He enjoyed listening to those breathy sounds, but he wanted her moan.

He let out a little grunt himself as his cocks extruded. He couldn't stop them or hold them behind his scales any longer when she was like... this.

The blanket fell to the side as his hand moved up her torso. He could feel her even more now. The delicate cage of her ribs, expanding and contracting with each ragged breath that she pulled in to ground herself. The way her skin gave underneath his calloused hand. The lush press of her breast against his palm as he finally cupped her, feeling the indents of his fingers as he clutched her maybe a little too tightly.

There it was. The moan that made his hips rock forward and press his cocks against the cold metal. He wanted to feel the grip of her around him. She just arched into his touch, one of her arms lifting to loop around his neck and drag him closer to her.

He brushed his teeth down the column of her throat. His thumb found the peak of her breast, gently teasing it as she writhed in his arms.

They both needed this release that he could give them. Hips rocking, he breathed hard against her throat and knew she could feel the warm breath traveling down her neck. Another moan, this one ending on a plea.

Pressing his thumb a little harder against her nipple, he drew that moan out again. Her fingers clutched at his hair, and madness had him moving his hand.

He spread those fingers wide, sliding underneath the clothing that held her away from him. The soft texture of her skin nearly distracted him until his fingers brushed something warm and wet. Slick skin that had her hissing out a long breath.

He had claws. He didn't know what she liked, but he could feel the softness of her and knew she was delicate.

Arched as she was, it was easy for him to settle her on his palm. The webs between his fingers created ridges when his fingers were held closed, as they were now. And another hiss of pleasure made him certain that she liked his touch. She liked it when he slowly slid his fingers against that burning heat at her core.

"Kalon," he growled, the words low and so deep he knew she could hear them. "Move your hips, little one. I want to watch you ride my hand."

That was a new sound. A whimper that made his cocks kick against the icy floor and fuck. If he wasn't careful he could come like this. Feeling that silken skin glide over his fingers as she moved her body like a wave. Undulating and so graceful as she ground herself down on his fingers.

Beautiful.

The tiny moans, the whimpering sounds that stuck in her throat. He watched her in the reflection of the glass. Her head thrown back against his damaged shoulder, one arm cupping the back of his neck. She bit her lip as she desperately ground herself against his fingers and fuck. It was perfect.

He'd never seen a more lovely creature, nor had he ever seen a more lovely sight as when he leaned down and licked up the column of her throat.

"Keep your eyes closed," he growled into her ear, feeling her shudder at the tone of his voice. "Just feel."

He wanted inside her. So badly it ached. But right now, all he wanted was to see her ride his hand and as he growled in her ear, he knew she was close.

Those little red splotches on her cheeks flared hotter and then suddenly her rhythm changed. She was panting now, then holding her breath as she moved a little faster, a little harder.

And he watched with rapt attention as she came on his hand with a long, drawn-out moan that nearly unmanned him.

"Beautiful," he said. "You come so pretty, kalon."

The consoles started going off, the loud shrieking filling his ears just as she let out another one of those moans that made his cocks ache and his spend swell deep inside him. He wanted just a few more moments. A few more seconds where they could lose themselves in each other while he knew that he shouldn't be doing this.

But those loud noises and flashing red lights usually were a warning. And he knew she couldn't hear them.

"Anya," he said, drawing his hand away from her and cupping her chin. He forced her to look at the consoles. "Something is wrong."

It took her a few seconds. Her breathing was so ragged, he feared there might be something wrong with her. But then finally she nodded and lunged forward for the consoles. The blanket fell entirely onto the ground and he sank deeper into the water so she wouldn't know how much he was affected by her. Not yet, at least.

She slammed her hands on a few buttons, curses falling from her lips until the doors to their left sealed shut. Then he heard it. The crack. The rush of water that flowed through the tunnel beyond and into the room she usually slept in.

The loud boom rocked through the entire facility so hard that the entire thing moved. Water rushed up around him, nearly pushing him into the room and soaking her up to her thighs. He stayed right where he was, both of them frozen as the entire facility groaned. The sound was deep and aching, one he was certain she could hear.

They stared at each other, both silent, certain the entire facility was about to collapse.