Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End (13 page)

Why do you snort at that? Unlike humans, we do not think of our women as less or weaker than men. However we do openly recognize and respect our inequalities and difference, and therefore prefer to spend most of our time with our respective genders. It makes life much more pleasant and efficient. When we do spend time together, it is to share in our children or for mating.

I hear his pride, he has enough to fuel an army, but all I can think is
how sad for him
.
I mean how awful must it be to never really experience true affection, real passion, love, even, with such limited bond formations between couples
.

Forgetting where we are, I glance up quickly and just in time, catch a dark look on his face. Was that my regret I just felt or his?

Oh, he heard that
. Arrogance flashes on his face.

Yup, it was his regret. Pride is definitely a front for something that is missing
.

“You are wrong!” he blusters, interrupting my thoughts. “We are very . . . satisfied. There is nothing missing in the life of a Thell’eon Kir!”

Hmm
, he does seem to believe this. Vaguely I wonder what a Kir is but I’m unwilling to lose this mini battle with him.
Why do you scan for human women then?

This is not something we actively do.

You could have fooled me.

He’s glaring at me, defensive and frustrated.

Wait, how do I know that?
I feel like I’m smiling.

He continues, determined.
Your arrival was as surprising to us as you claim it was for you. It is an outdated part of every ship construction that the Guardianship (our government) is removing. In fact, the Guardianship has warned us against interacting with human women.

“Then why are you?”

He stares at me openly with those incredible eyes.

Don’t think anything about him. Don’t think anything about him.

Clearly he has no intention of answering me.

Well, I guess you don’t know what you’re missing if you’ve never experience it
, I purposefully think, adding a dose of disdain.
What are you doing? You should have asked about the Guardianship not his stupid sex life! At least try to get intel. Come on, Cassiel
.

You are very hard on yourself. I have only been in here a short while and I must say it is exhausting. Your emotions are very chaotic and extreme.

Again. He’s eavesdropping again! “Please feel free to leave!” I bark at him.

Nausea momentarily absorbs my attention, like when I have déjà—

Shut up, Cassiel!
I freeze and look at him to see if he caught that.

He says nothing. But he
is
waiting for me to slip up. I just know it.
Don’t think about what you saw on his ship when Green Eyes shouted “Sift!”. Don’t think about it.
Oh, he’s hearing that too
!

I must redirect.

Are you all right?

No, I feel, lightheaded.
Oh, I forgot to say that out loud.

“How long will we have to stay like this, in this . . . symbiosis?” I ask, sounding rather desperate.

I’m not certain how long I can protect my secret from him. For all I know he has already probed my mind and found it. I squeeze my eyes tight and think of IT as a blank book. I throw the book deep within a well, thousands of miles deep, in the middle of the earth, and slam millions of pounds of dirt on it.

You are a clever female.

I open my eyes. His black eyes are full of admiration. But there’s a shovel in his hand. My jaw drops open.

He looks quickly at it, surprised, and suddenly it is gone.

My apologies. Even the most experienced of us at symbiosis slip up at times.

He’s not at all embarrassed to admit this. I’m getting sick of his false apologies.

“How does this symbiosis work? Is it some kind of technology that allows you to get in my mind?”

No. Not at all.

Humans are so naïve.

“I heard that! Well, maybe you can deign to tell this degenerate strain of DNA how it works.”

He smiles at me.

Did you know that the type of interaction called sarcasm is exclusive to humans? It is not shared among any other species in the universe.

Ha!
“Well I’m pretty sure Thell’eons invented arrogance! Are you going to tell me or what?”

Why not, if it will humor her
?

Hey, am I hearing his thoughts?
Something flickers in his eyes.
I am! I am!

He talks quickly.
It began as a piece of technology. We developed it hoping that sharing our emotions and desires with our females would trigger pleasure in them. As you know, the brain is only part of the physiology of pleasure. That did not work. You should know that this occurred a very long time ago, before we came to accept our . . . circumstances. After some time, we opted to use the ability for other purposes such as our contests, to read other species’ minds and the like, rather than destroy them. Over time, with evolution, some of us developed the ability to enter others’ minds without the technology. Others developed an ability to transfer emotions, called the ‘surge’. Very few of us are able to enter someone’s mind without permission. And even then, it is extraordinarily difficult. Fortunately for you, I am one of those few.

“Oh yes. How lucky for me. Where are our bodies?” This is so creepy. I want to get away, be safe again, but I clamp down those feelings, worried they will expose my weakness to the enemy.

As I said, we are still on the ship, heading for medical attention on my warship. I am not your enemy, Cassiel.

I ignore the spasm of fear this creates by inhaling deeply.

Good girl. You are getting the hang of it. I am not your enemy.

In my mind, his deep, husky voice, charms me, excites me.

“Don’t. Don’t patronize me, or lie to me. How long do we have to stay like this?” I ask desperately.

I am not certain myself. Time moves strangely in one’s mind. I must say you are quite good at controlling what you share, excluding the emotional disarray.

I wish you would apply the same determination to your survival.

He added that last part more to himself. He glances at me, surprised.

I am reading his thoughts!

I close my eyes and search around for information about Daz, but everywhere I go I seem to hit a wall. It’s not even a wall I can penetrate. Just blackness every way I turn.
Wait, don’t forget to protect to your own secret
. I bet he’s shoveling furiously right now. I add layers of concrete and titanium bars. One thousand titanium cages around my blank book.

When I open my eyes, he appears amused.

Whatever
. It is clear I can’t trust him. Alone. Just plain freaked out right now. I just want him out. I just want to be home.

I start pacing in front of the table.
Yes
. I want to be in my pod. That’s my home, even if it’s temporary. I want my books near me. I want to be in my downcore. With a future at the Academy. Hope for Daz. Dreaming of King.

I picture King and I on the face of that mountain, him stroking my hair and kissing my cheek. And it’s like we’re really there again. This state of mind is amazing. It’s so real. If I’d known I could come here, I would have already. I love his touch and his smell. His sexy eyes, fringed in copper lashes, sucking and nibbling on his perfect bottom lip. I love his commanding presence. He makes me feel safe. It’s his touch, possessive and claiming. The unappeased desire so supple and tender . . .

Wait.
What’s that? Some rumbling echoes in the distance? A loud thud. Feet landing somewhere behind King. Someone else is here! I pull away from King but he disappears before me. I grab for him but it’s too late. He’s gone.
Maybe forever!
I desperately look around for him in the shrubs and nearby trees but it’s dark. I inhale sharply. A presence is watching me, just eyes in the dark, but every which way I turn, they escape detection. I’m lost without King. Oh. It’s so cold.

Wait
, I smell smoke, I’m choking on smoke. It’s Daz I’ve lost. And I may never find him!

Without even thinking about it, the big scary darkness falls like a Niian night. But no pain. Just a relentless smothering, absent, empty might . . . almost inevitable. I can’t breathe at all.
Oh no!
I think this might be—

“Cassiel!” I hear Dark Eyes shouting my name. I’m profoundly sad that I recognize his voice.

“Cassiel!”

How does he know my name? I force my eyes open. We’re standing in front of one another, holding each other arms. Dark Eyes is steadying me. I panic, sensing nothingness underneath me.

“Look at me!”

His eyes are intense again. He’s projecting light and goodness and peace and joy into my mind. So much of it, too. So forcefully. I need it. I want it.

And I open myself up to it, grateful, knowing I can’t help myself. Knowing I’m dependent on him. He’s smiling at me, and we are . . . happy . . . I close my eyes . . . we are . . .

. . . playing with a brood of little boys, beautiful and fresh-faced and innocent. They all have his black eyes. We play hide and seek amid the tallest trees I have seen. Bigger than ISH, the InterGalactic Space Hub. So magnificent.

I like this word
, magnificent, he says without speaking.

I’m carefree. Everything’s so
magnificent
. And fun. Time passes with no real meaning. I let it. Grateful.

We splice from moment to moment gracefully, effortlessly. We’re sitting down on a blanket and eating morsels of meat that taste like pork but gamy, and something that’s salty and starchy and sticky. The meal’s decadent and rich and delightful. I swallow something in a glass that’s bitter and wince, but the sensation it creates in my mind is wonderful. Just a wisp of euphoria. I sample something that’s cold and sweet like cake but tastes like ice cream. I love ice cream. Better, praline ice cream.

He’s eating his cone ravenously. Like he has never tasted ice cream before. There’s a little at the corners of his mouth, and he smiles at me delighted and enthralled. I want to lick the ice cream off of his mouth.

Something flashes over his face, desire, maybe. An urgent need makes its throbbing presence known in me, down there, in turn. Wha—?

The ice cream is gone. So are the boys. It’s incredibly hot in this field. I’m surrounded by the most soft, hip-high feather reeds blowing back and forth in the wind, catching the sun and sparkling. I just want to experience the soft, luxurious plants against my skin and rest in their weightlessness. Filled with a lightheartedness of childhood, I strip off the dress I’m wearing (why am I wearing a dress?) and stroll through the field. The feathers tickle my skin, and goosebumps spread. I turn back.

He’s behind me a little ways, fully clothed, watching me with incredible intensity. His eyes, like two magnets. So hard to read. But I like that. I wish he would walk with me. He joins me. He’s too serious. Now he smiles at little at me, beginning to enjoy himself. Isn’t he feeling hot, too?

Now he has no shirt.
That’s better
. My mouth opens in awe at his incredible physique. I just want to reach out and touch his taut broad chest, rounded shoulders, rippled stomach, and lower, where the hint of dark hair starts. I want to feel his skin and have his body, his strength and power, above me, in me.

He gasps and seems frozen on the spot. Holding his dark mysterious gaze, I lie down in the feathers with the sun beaming down on me and relish all the wonderful sensations in my body. My skin’s aching to be touched, and I hug myself, longing for closeness.
Please, come lie down with me.

He seems to hesitate. He’s so stormy. I moan because the sensuality is almost overwhelming. I need some kind of release.
Please.
For a second, I fear he won’t give it to me and I sense a flash of suffocation bearing down on me but it’s gone again because he’s laying beside me on his back. I reach over on my side, completely uninhibited and loving the freedom. I never, ever, feel like this and it is
magnificent
. My hand pauses for a second, hovering above his broad expanse of chest. When I bring my fingers down on his skin, which is extra warm and smooth, he inhales sharply. He puts his hand over mine, as though to remove it, but he doesn’t. He holds my palm gently, watching me with uncertainty, while I explore his muscular shoulders, and his chest, breathing out a moan of desire.

I sigh and nestle in under his free arm. I wish he would put it around me. He does after a moment, but why is it so stiff? Finally his arm relaxes. So warm. He’s so warm. And oddly, I fall asleep.

My dreams are childlike in their happiness. I make mud cakes and have snowball fights as the wild seasons change. I sled and run. I’m safe. I’m safe because I’m loved by those protecting me. The love’s divine and reciprocated with everything that I am. I give and take freely of the miracle, which is wide and deep and infinite and endless. I awaken gently to movement as strong arms bring me near, then up quickly, effortlessly over onto his bare chest. He’s stunned, overwhelmed, but silently asks for more. What? Love? We speak without speaking.
It doesn’t work like that.
He doesn’t care. He’s trying to give back what he just felt, love, but all I grasp at is his passion.