Authors: Candace Smith
Tempest ran the toe of her boot through the sand. “So, we gonna’ send the big guys after them?” Her heart ached at the thought of Tali fighting Atlantian mystics.
A tear slipped down Miranda’s porcelain cheek. “No, Tempest. I’ve had visions. It is you and Rue who must bring them back here. You will be joined by another Earth woman who has just now been procured to the Realm. She is also a warrior with Atlantian blood in her ancestory.”
Miranda turned back towards the wall. “I cannot see if you will succeed, but if the Ancients are not brought back to Vallasteria where their magic can be contained within a nelam crystal cell, they will destroy the Realm. They have been decimating planets like locusts, traveling the ancient slip-streams to new worlds. I see their ambition… and they want it all. They want to suck the power from the nelam and build fanciful atrocities until there is no crystal left and our worlds shrivel and die. They feed on decay.”
The women spent weeks planning, while the nelam prison cell was constructed. Rue became close to Tempest, discussing the mission and learning the Celestial’s descriptions of the slip-streams and the missing Ancients. They were frightened, but tried to maintain confidence when speaking with their warrior mates.
Perhaps the most discerning part of it all was Miranda. Tempest had not seen her friend’s belief in herself waver, since the early days on Shallistar when she was told she was the Celestial. “Cripes, Miranda. It’s going to be fine.” Tempest tried to lighten the Ancient’s mood, and she smiled and said, “Besides, this is way better than when you made me Magistrate of Commerce.” Tempest wrinkled her nose. “I travel through space to become Head Teller of the Intergallactic Bank… yuck!”
Across the Realm and through a time-shift that had not caught up to the world of Vallasteria, the final piece of their puzzle was falling into place on the world of Actana. Soon, Tempest and Rue would join up with another Earth sister, and they would begin the terrifying battle against the wayward Ancient mystics to protect Miranda’s destiny.
* * * * *
The night sky was quiet and peaceful. The citizens of Actana had no knowledge of the impending doom besieging the Celestial’s spirit, many space quadrants away. On Actana, they were struggling with their own on-planet problems, and the squirmishes and politics of the Realm were distant… for now.
Kneeling quietly on the soft pillowed chaise, Milana gazed out the open window to the yellow and green pods lighting up the branches of the trees. Actana’s three small moons lit the colorful jeweled surface of the outlands in the distance, and a wistful sigh passed her lips.
Her blue eyes scanned to the pod beyond the parents’ and she thought she saw Tian’s shadowed profile standing at the window. The twins would be restless and probably searching across the branches, much as she was, yet feeling a yearning emptiness instead of fulfillment and peace.
Hands rested on her shoulders emitting a feeling of tranquility. A deep, husky voice whispered in her ear, “Calm yourself, Milana. We are doing what we can for them.”
Sian.
She smiled, feeling the comfort he sent washing through her. Raising her hands, she captured the fingers resting on her shoulder and turned to kiss his knuckles. “It will pass?”
Sian’s golden waves spilled over her breasts and he rubbed his chin against her temple. “Yes, our petition will pass. Light fathers have convinced the council our idea has merit.”
Her eyes turned towards the trees again and her heart seized for all the second-set twins, struggling with the lonely emptiness of having no mate. “What do you expect to find?” she whispered. It was beyond her comprehension to imagine what the ancient scrolls locked in the vault might contain.
“An answer.” Sian gave her another comforting squeeze. Laiya would experience jealousy if he knew his mate worried for his brothers. Sian was able to read her emotions and he knew she felt sadness, but no attraction to them.
“She is being punished, Sian.” Laiya’s warning rumbled from behind them, close to the wardrobe. “A moonlight tryst is not going to teach her.”
Milana’s eyes lowered to the sill and she smiled. Even her dark twin mate should realize her small slip of speaking to his mother was intentional. The sound of the wardrobe door opening caused a shiver. Milana’s thoughts pulled away from sad reflections and she wondered what delicious punishment Laiya planned.
Clamps, Laiya? Do you think she is ready?
Are you ready, Sian? Is it within you to keep her calm?
Sian smiled at his dark brother’s challenge and trailed his finger gently down their mate’s ribcage. She trembled, and Sian could imagine she was already worrying her bottom lip. It was a habit caused by her anticipation, and neither man corrected the infraction.
Tian placed his palms under her breasts and he let his thumbs sweep across her dark nipples. They peaked with desire, tightening to stiff, rubbery posts. Milana fought to keep still. Her belly quivered and her damp scent leaked between her thighs. Sian laid his head onto her shoulder and whispered into her ear, “Be calm, my mate. You know you have earned punishment for speaking without permission.”
“It was only to mother.” Her voice was breathy and soft.
Sian knew that she was offering the meager excuse to falsely alleviate doubt that she had planned for her own punishment. However, the quivering of her body, suggested she was not so convinced she should have provoked them.
“Come, Milana. Kneel before your mate.” Laiya’s cock pressed against his breeches, jerking once at the sound of her gasp.
Milana climbed down from the sofa and knelt in front of him. She wished Sian’s caresses continued to send tranquility through her. Laiya placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up. She watched the strange silver items swing from the delicate chain in his hand.
Laiya could see her nervous confusion, though he could not sense her emotions like his light twin. “Sian?”
Sian moved from the sofa to stand behind her. While fingers from one hand brushed through her hair, the other lifted the weight of her breast and coaxed the tip back to hardness.
Laiya waited until her eyes half-closed with passion. Unable to help herself, her head dropped back onto Sian’s chest, and her breasts lifted further in offering to him.
She is fine, Laiya. Though, I suspect she wishes one of us would fill her.
Sian could feel her bottom clenching against him. Her feminine musk wafted through the room, enticing both the men.
Laiya waited for her eyes to close, and then he reached for her taut, chocolate nipple. Surrounded by the feathery brushes of his fingertips, Milana did not realize he had the clamp until it bit into her sensitive skin. “Aaah.” Her hiss echoed quietly.
Milana tried to prepare herself for the other nipple’s capture. The stinging pain quickly burst to shockwaves of pleasure when Sian stroked over the swollen nub. The clamp seamed to intensify her nerves and desire. Milana finally opened her eyes and lowered her head to gaze at the chain swinging gently from her breasts. The tips of her nipples were elongated, and she shuddered when Laiya reached out to twist the one he had just secured.
Her hands were folded at the small of her back and her fingers stroked Tian’s heavy balls. He had undressed before he joined her at the window. Milana rolled her shoulders against his chest.
Sian’s cock throbbed with her light touch, and he reached his hand over her hip. One palm flattened against her belly, holding her against him, and the other drifted to her slick folds. “Aaah… aaah, Sian.”
Laiya stripped, and he knelt in front of her. His lips brushed along hers, inhaling the soft hissing pants. “You will wait for permission, Milana.”
Her voice quivered. “Yes, Laiya.”
His kiss was tender, which always surprised her coming from her dark twin mate. When he lowered his head and nipped a captured bud, her hand slipped up to Sian’s shaft. The only way to end this punishment was to overwhelm them with arousal. Sian’s hand stroked her labia, spreading her cream and occasionally brushing her clit.
“Ppplease, Laiya.”
Sian kissed her neck.
She is close, brother.
Perhaps, a bit more for her insolence?
She will fail, Laiya. It will crush her to disobey.
Laiya lifted his head. “Look into my eyes, Milana.”
They were filled with tears, and he could see Sian was right. Laiya held her breasts and released the clamps. “Come for us, Milana.”
She shuddered and fell against him, releasing Sian’s shaft from her hand. “Oh… oh…” The burst of pain from blood filling her tips melded with her climax.
Sian held her steady, still kneeling behind her, until her quivering stopped. He helped her stand and led her to the bed where Laiya lay waiting. After satiating their arousal, Milana curled with her head on Laiya’s chest and Sian’s legs entwined with hers. She rested, lying between them as always and filled with their feeling of love and protection.
Sian stared out the window at the triple moons, listening to the rhythmic breathing as they slept. He hoped the petition to open the vault was productive. The thought that he and Laiya could experience such joy with Milana was tempered with the knowledge of the hopeless situation for his younger brothers to ever achieve such happiness. It cast a heavy shadow across his heart.
Chapter I
Sharell treated herself to one last fast food hamburger and the best greasy fries in the world. She had found the perfect place, and the perfect spot in this place, to spend the day. Her last day.
This day had not seemed important a month ago. Back then, she was still far too excited and enamored with the prospect of her new job. Now, she sat on the grass in Henry Thompson Park, leaning against a tree with her long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She had less than an hour to change her mind, but she was already wearing the gray polo shirt with the Manerea Industries logo.
People walking dogs gave wide berth to other leash holding travelers, nodding fake pleasantries. Dropping the pretense after they passed, their smiles faded to irritation caused by the obligatory twice daily walks to keep Fido happy and the carpets clean. Sharell found the frantically squealing and running kids more interesting. She watched them enjoying a childhood that ended too soon for her.
It was a beautiful, sunny, warm day, a perfect day, tugging one final bribe and enticing Sharell with what she would miss. This was only June, and summer promised many more perfect days like this… if she wanted to back out of her contract. A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, still slick green and not yet dulled by the summer’s bleaching heat. Small branches blew against each other and the leaves collided, passing whispered secrets. Sharell had the uneasy feeling they were warning her.
It was strange, because sitting in the park in the middle of the week was something she had never done before. Hell, she was a kid herself the last time she followed the winding paths through the manicured grounds. Probably to smoke a stolen cigarette with Lucy Farvell behind a tree like the one she leaned against.
Sharell bit into another fry, and tasted the salt and small burst of oil it released. A gazillion calories, but what did it matter? It would be her last blowout for a long time. Where she was going, the fare would be far more nutritious and recognizable by the bland or non-existent taste. Good things had gazillion calories. It was the difference between a tart strawberry and adding sugar and a dose of rum. It was the difference between the greasy fries and the baked imitations she was facing, if they bothered with fries at all.
Sharell looked across the grass and watched a shadow-wave from clouds overhead darken the bright green blades, racing towards a little girl. She stood covering her eyes and pressed against an oak. Her playmates scrambled for cover and the little girl squirmed impatiently. Soon she would be running after them, searching impossible hiding places. She was ‘It’.
So are you
, the leaves taunted, and Sharell felt the prickle of goose bumps rising on her arms.
She pried the last hard oil-saturated nugget from the paper seam along the bottom of her fry bag, crumpled her wrappers, and crammed them into the brown bag. Dark oily stains polka-dotted the surface. Everything seemed so sharp and noticeable, too ‘in your face’, on this perfect last day.
Sharell shook herself from her musings, battling a building case of nerves threatening to upend all her plans. “Screw it. I’ll come back and it will all look the same.”
Except the little girl playing tag will be older, and hiding by a tree with her best friend and a cigarette
. Sharell looked up at the gossiping leaves. “Shut up.”
She walked across the lawn, deliberately crossing a dark moving cloud shadow, and tossed the bag into a wire basket. ‘KEEP HT PARK CLEAN’. “Yes, old Henry Thompson doesn’t mind a little puppy piss, but don’t leave your wrappers,” she mumbled.
An arch of branches announced the end of the path that opened onto the parking lot. The breeze sent the leaves leaning and whispering again, but Sharell ignored them. She walked across the pavement, looking at the cars. Most of them were bubble shaped domes that varied only in color. She missed the sharp lines of the cars from the sixties and seventies. Hell, you could tell the model from a mile away. Now, they were all from the same cookie cutter mold, rounded against wind resistance to increase gas mileage.
What will they look like when you come back?
Sharell glared at the archway. “Exactly the fucking same, except they’ll probably all be silver.” This seemed to make sense. Other than pretentious glued on dealer logos, the colors were the only remarkable feature left. Sharell owned a ’72 pickup with all the bells and whistles for that model year. She spent a year restoring it herself… and handed the keys to Barry Sinclair a week ago. If that had not stopped her, nothing a bunch of leaves said was going to change her mind.