Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Dragek leaned against the wall and schooled himself to stillness.

After leaving the meeting with Tarak and Ashrael, he meant to go straight to the weapons room, where he was supposed to meet with the weaponsmaster and select his blades for the mission.

But he'd found himself focusing on the unmistakable signature of her ka'qui , which radiated with uncontrolled intensity from the lower section of the Fleet Station.

She had no idea how brightly she burned.

Like a supernova.

Noali and her people had better teach her to suppress her aura soon because she was going to start attracting attention from dark corners of the Universe.

She was probably giving away their position right now.

Ashrael would be aware. Didn't he care? Didn't Tarak?

He, who was so accustomed to secrecy, always shrouding himself in a cloak of invisibility, didn't understand it at all.

" Come in," she called from behind the Qualum doors, her voice as clear as the cold skies on Kythia. " And make sure the doors… stay open. "

On the surface, she was calm, almost imperious, but her aura was trembling.

She was… afraid of him.

She hadn't been this way before, but now she radiated tension and fear, just like when they'd first met.

He probably had himself to blame. He'd entered her chambers without seeking permission, partly because he'd presumed she would be comfortable with him—back there on the cruiser, she'd been so unguarded with him and refreshingly bold—and partly because he simply hadn't realized that humans had customs around entry and privacy and the various states of dress or undress.

His kind didn't really have any qualms about being naked—they dressed for functional purposes, to denote rank, and to conceal themselves when necessary.

But humans apparently did.

In his preoccupied state, he hadn't realized she was in the sanitation chamber until he was standing in her quarters extending his senses outwards, and all of a sudden, he was slapped in the face with the most wickedly delicious scent— her essence, mixed with a sweet floral fragrance that reminded him of jungles on distant planets.

It was utterly intoxicating.

For a moment, he'd forgotten himself.

How the fuck had that happened?

He knew how.

It had started back there, on the cruiser that brought her here from Earth when she was asleep. When he'd watched over her.

No, it was before that. When he'd taken her to Zyara for treatment. When he'd felt responsible for her injuries and insisted on the very best.

She'd endured so well in spite of her helplessness.

No, in truth, it was before that… back there in the underground caves of the hot Earth desert.

Her power. Her wild, swirling essence…

It had… done something to him, especially when her ka'qui had exploded in a torrent of overwhelming force.

For a moment, he'd been engulfed by her power, and although he was easily able to put up his shields, he could admit that part of him was in awe.

Even the Mistress—may she rot in the Nine Hells—couldn't have matched the intensity of Jade's ka'qui.

He held the memory of that moment in his mind as he re-entered her chambers, the Qualum doors unraveling as he passed. He uttered a soft command— stay —making sure they wouldn't close behind him. If she wanted them open, then so be it.

It hadn't occurred to him that she might still be nervous in his presence, but when he thought about it, it made perfect sense.

Being around her made him forget…

What he was.

He stepped inside, walking slowly, gently casting forth with his ka'qui.

And then, he saw her.

He drank her in with his Second Sight, and it was as if he were seeing her all over again.

She was different from the stubborn, scared human he'd found in that hot, dusty underground mine shaft.

He could sense trepidation in her trembling aura, but there was also strength and a forced calmness borne of her surprisingly fierce will. Her emotions no longer spilled wildly. It seemed she'd taken his teachings seriously and was using anara— the most basic of the techniques. It was usually taught to his kind when they were young children, just as they were starting to walk, but she'd never had any sort of training, and in the end, Dragek had taken pity on her.

But how quickly she learned. She was already quite good at this, and when she was in control, her demeanor changed, making her seem somewhat… formidable.

Impressive.

Almost as impressive as the way she sat on her sleeping pod, elegant and composed in spite of her injuries.

She wore a luxurious Kashkan that spilled over her body like a generous serving of molten liquid. The lustrous fabric was thick enough to leave him guessing, merely hinting at the soft swell of her breasts and the strong, lithe figure underneath.

But he knew because he'd held her.

Her hair, now clean and dry, emitted the most tantalizing fragrance—sweetness and human female musk. It was swept to one side and draped over her shoulder, melting into the sumptuous cloth of her robes.

The way it reflected the light was dazzling.

He'd never seen anything quite so decadent in all his life.

Beauty hadn't existed in his life before he met her. He wasn't permitted to enjoy it, even though he stole glimpses at the stars from time to time. He'd learned to find solace in such things as the twin moons of a distant planet or the pale mist rising from a warm, starlight-drenched body of water.

But now, selfishly, greedily, he drank it in.

Drank her in.

Immediately, he was aroused again. His cock was already hard. He didn't question it anymore, didn't fight it. It was ironic how he instinctively knew what this was when he'd never experienced it before in his life.

As an assassin, he'd learned how to channel all his energy into violence.

But he didn't have to do that anymore.

"Impressive," he said, half-surprised that he'd even managed to get a word out. At this rate, he might just revert to being a Silent One again.

"What do you mean?" As she looked up, her eyes were luminous and lovely.

"That you've managed to improve so quickly. I only had to show you once, and already, you can contain your presence to a respectable degree."

" Oh ." Her long eyelashes fluttered. The soft hue in her cheeks deepened. "Well, it was long overdue, wasn't it? I don't think it's impressive at all. It's just something I'm doing out of necessity."

"Eventually, it'll become so natural you won't even notice you're doing it—like breathing."

"Once again, I have to thank you." Her lips parted ever so slightly, allowing a low, throaty laugh to escape. The sound curled around his soul and threw hooks deep into his cold, black heart. "You know, the humans on Earth— my own people—thought there was something wrong with me. Everyone was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was sick. That I needed to be treated. They tried so many things to get rid of the voices. Nothing worked… until now. It's such a simple solution, but I never would have been able to figure it out on my own. I still can't believe it works."

He inhaled deeply, savoring her warm scent, along with her tenuous admiration. She reminded him of a wild creature on the verge of being tamed but ready to fly away at any moment. "All I did was teach you a technique that has been used by my kind for thousands of revolutions. Anara. It's the first of twelve techniques."

"Twelve?" Her eyebrows rose in curiosity. "And once you've learned all twelve… what then?"

"Complete mastery," Dragek shrugged. "Not many people are capable of learning all twelve. You wouldn't be expected to. Reaching the third or fourth stage would be sufficient." The final of the twelve techniques, after anava— the ability to sustain one's life beyond physical death—was qim.

Invisibility.

Transcendence.

They said qim was the ability to walk the rift—the path between worlds.

"Have you mastered all twelve?" A tendril of fear escaped with her curiosity, and Dragek hated that she was still like this. What did he have to do to make her understand that he wouldn't ever harm her?

"Not by choice," he said, forcing his voice to soften despite all the terribleness that came with his truth. "But yes. "

" Oh. " A mixture of conflicting emotions crossed her features, too quickly for him to decipher and too human for him to ever understand.

"Jade, I am no threat to you. The forces that used to control me are long gone. The master I serve now is the most powerful ally humankind will ever have, and even if I didn't serve him, I would have no desire to harm anyone who doesn't deserve to be harmed."

"So why did you come here, then? Unannounced, without permission. Can you understand why I'm a little uneasy right now?" She rotated her ankle, turning her injured foot.

"Hm." Dragek silently cursed Zyara for not giving Jade the precious medical nanites. She would be feeling extra vulnerable right now. She was incapacitated, barely able to hobble around without assistance.

And that was his doing.

He'd smashed her body up, and even though it had been completely and utterly necessary at the time, he couldn't help but feel remorse.

He'd lied. He'd already hurt her, hadn't he?

She was the first individual he'd ever regretted harming, and he knew beyond the Dark Star's shadow that he wouldn't do it ever again. She was here now— safe. This was how it was meant to be. And he would play his part and follow Tarak's orders because he knew their enemies wouldn't hesitate to put her kind in restraints and use them for their own callous designs.

Just like the Mistress had done to him.

Strange. He hadn't realized he would develop these so-called morals so quickly.

Perhaps her influence was rubbing off on him.

"I didn't think you'd be afraid of me," he said at last. "After all that has occurred, you should know. But I can understand why. I was simply passing by, and I just wanted to tell you that I'll be away for some time—in case you were left wondering."

Actually, it had occurred to him that there was a small chance he might not survive this mission.

There was always that chance. Always had been, always would be. In his past life, he'd come close to death more than once.

He might not be so lucky to survive this time, especially when Tarak was planning on sending him through a fucking wormhole.

That's why he wanted to see her again before he left.

Just in case…

"Where are you going, Dragek?" And now her voice was filled with the most confounding thing— concern.

For him.

His arousal intensified, but its urgency was tempered with unexpected tenderness. "A retrieval mission. Far from here."

"Will it be… dangerous?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. But I'm good at what I do."

"I got the feeling you were. What exactly is it that you do again?"

"I…" Kill. "Fight."

"You're a professional warrior, then? A soldier?"

Assassin.

"Something like that."

"Well, I appreciate you coming to tell me because I'll be waiting for you to come back. Be safe, okay? I fully expect to see you again, Dragek."

"You will." Arousal had spread into every limb of his body like fire. It throbbed through his temples and radiated into his ka'qui. If he were amongst his enemies right now, he would probably have a hard time concealing himself.

Shit.

What if…

Unable to help himself, he took a deep breath, nostrils flaring.

Inhaling her scent one last time.

Shit.

She smelled so good. Like an intoxicating drug. And her expression—fear giving way to worry—imprinted on him.

To think that this fragile, human being could actually be worried about him.

Why did that realization make him feel so strange inside, like his heart was being squeezed in a warm vice?

And he couldn't help but gaze at the elegant column of her neck, at her soft, dewy skin, at the tantalizing glimpse of her chest between the soft folds of her kashkan , at the promise of lushness beneath.

He savored the swell of her breasts, the elegant dip of her waist, the generous curves of her hips and thighs.

He'd carried her in his arms. How had he not noticed back then?

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to lift her into his arms and lay her on the pod, to pull the sash at her waist and undress her so he could inhale her and devour her.

But of course, he didn't.

"I will go now." It took every last shred of willpower for Dragek to withdraw his senses and his ka'qui. Before he did anything stupid, he turned on his heel and walked out of her chambers, leaving her staring after him. Her control slipped then, and he sensed her surprise and confusion.

And something else…

Could it be?

No.

It would be suicide for him to think about that now.

He was already in deep fucking trouble as it was.