It wasn’t every day you managed to lose your king while on
a securitymission to an alien planet. In fact, it took a spectacularly large
amount of bad luck, but Councilor Aldorsk couldn’t say he was surprised. Not
after the recent series of impetuous royal decisions, all of which had
seemingly led to this moment. Every Refarian gathered on the ship’s deck was
concerned for the king’s welfare, voicing fears they all harbored—but rarely
vocalized. What if he dies? What if he’s captured? What if he never makes it
back? These were the same fears that plagued the king’s leadership back home
on a daily basis, only now those concerns were magnified a hundred-fold
because he’d taken off without so much as a security escort. Yes, Aldorsk
was anxious, but being the eldest advisor on the royal council he simply
worked to stay calmer than the others.
Before them all—and in the midst of an argument of colossal proportions—the
king had shapeshifted into a ball of glowing energy in order to slip through
the floor and to the exterior of the ship without being apprehended. By now
the young leader had certainly arrived on Earth, and had returned to his
physical form. He might even be hiking into the nearby mountains never to
return. It required an extraordinary amount of calm not to worry for the
young man’s welfare, but Councilor Aldorsk determined to put forth a brave,
composed face for the Refarians knotted around the glowing center of the
transport.
The young monarch’s energy had left a vibrant trailing pattern on the
grooved floor, finally vanishing in the exact spot where the king had last
stood. The transport’s captain stared at the floor along with him. “I don’t
think there’s any structural damage,” the man assessed, but from his
expression, he looked dubious about the situation in general.
Standing beside Aldorsk was his fellow councilor, Elder Graeon. “I don’t
think this is”—Graeon hesitated, squatting down to inspect potential damage
to the craft—“such a very good idea, allowing him to venture to the planet’s
surface alone.”
“He will be fine,” Aldorsk insisted.
It was the ship’s captain who spoke next. “If you don’t mind my saying so,
the king seems quite agitated lately. His frequent outbursts, the
shapeshifting without restraint, and now this.” He pointed down at the
floor, still glowing with their monarch’s energy shadow. “Are you certain
he’s ready for this mission? He does not seem at all himself.”
“He’s on Earth now, Captain,” Aldorsk explained with a burst of impatience.
“Therefore the mission is already engaged.”
“He’s unsteady,” Graeon answered in a quiet voice, rising to his feet again.
“I am concerned.” His long black hair was tied neatly at his back, but
several light strands of silver betrayed his impending maturity. All
Refarian males turned silver-headed once their fertile years had ended. “He
seems to grow more impulsive with every passing day.”
“You know the reason for that,” Aldorsk reminded him seriously. “You can
hardly fault him for that which he does not understand in himself.”
“We must be very protective at this time of his awakening.”
Aldorsk grew thoughtful. “True, the changes in his young body are very
complex, all the more because of his dual nature. Of course he’s agitated.
He hardly understands his transformation—much less that it’s natural for his
kind.”
Graeon worked an eyebrow. “Perhaps he should consult you, Councilor. You
guided his father through his own first season.”
Aldorsk smiled. “I think you know our king well enough to realize no
questions will be forthcoming on this matter.”
The other elder persisted: “His first mating cycle is imminent, surely--”
Aldorsk lifted a hand. “He must find the way on his own.”
“At fifteen, he’s already fertile.”
“Almost sixteen,” Aldorsk corrected. “What do you propose? That I urge him
to take a mate so soon? He must be given time, even in the midst of war.”
“It is a danger to wait,” Graeon argued. “Without any clear successor, the
line remains in jeopardy.”
Aldorsk sighed. “It was dangerous to make this journey at all. At what point
must we advise the king to remain at the palace? Hidden?”
“As you will recall, coming here was not my choice,” Graeon reminded his
council leader.
“No, it was our lord’s.”
“Perhaps he should not be allowed to make every decision until the
succession is secured.”
“Elder Graeon!” Aldorsk cried. “You must silence yourself. Our king is our
commander.”
Graeon’s dark face flushed, his mouth tightening. “I love our king, as you
well know, both as friend and as leader. But I worry much about his future.”
Yes, they all worried about the future of the Refarian ruler, who at the
moment was the very last in line after more than a thousand years of
unbroken succession. But perhaps, at least just for now, they should be more
worried that the king had arrived on an alien planet under the early
influence of his first mating season.
***
The guy on the path ahead had to be up to no good, no doubt about it. He had
a sample bag in one hand, and some sort of utensil in the other, and that
spelled one thing for sure—illegal researcher.
“Are you taking soil samples?” Kelsey called out, though she was still a
good twenty feet away from the man. She might only be fourteen (well,
almost), but she felt pretty fierce and protective when it came to
Yellowstone. Too many people came to the park each summer and abused the
place, so her mother had taught her to be friendly-but-tough when you found
someone doing something stupid or potentially dangerous.
Not that she hadn’t just spent the entire morning hiking around Mirror Lake
collecting her own rock and soil samples, but at least she knew how to be
responsible about it. The tall, dark-haired guy on the path ahead of her, on
the other hand, looked like—no, had to be—the sort who would cart truckloads
of illegal samples out of the park. When she got five feet away from him,
she called out again: “You’re not allowed to take samples out of here
without permission.”
He leapt to his feet and spun to face her, but he said nothing. Except when
his mysterious, wide-set eyes met hers, she realized he couldn’t be that
much older than she was.
She lifted her chin and continued, ignoring the way the guy’s dark-eyed gaze
affected her. “You’ve gotta have a permit,” she explained, drawing in a
breath. “Can’t take anything out of here without one.”
The boy worked his jaw for a moment, seemingly searching for words, and
finally dropped his hands to his side, the apparent samples falling to the
ground. “Just… studying,” he answered awkwardly, the words accented. Was he
Russian? He almost sounded like it. Just shtudeeing.
“Where are you from?” she asked, stepping closer to him. She had a small
backpack thrust over one shoulder, with loads of her own rock and soil
samples neatly labeled inside. Only she would never dream of removing
anything from the park without express permission, which she’d only obtained
once before—for last year’s science fair.
When he didn’t reply, she eyed him warily. “You’re not one of those
prodigies from The Thorpe School are you?” Thorpe always beat her own high
school at the fair, year after year. It would be totally like them to import
some Soviet genius to their team just to dominate yet again.
“No.”
“You Soviet or something?”
“Just”—he smiled, making her stomach flip-flop with butterflies—“stranger.”
“Do you speak in full sentences?” she asked with a playful toss of her curly
hair. Guys liked her long dark auburn hair, that’s what she’d always heard.
He folded his arms over his chest, looking very much like a guy who was used
to getting his way. “Sometimes.”
“But not now?”
“Not now.” The big smile he gave her made the flip-floppy thing in her
stomach go even wilder. And the butterflies, well, they made her feel bold.
It was weird, but true. Yeah, he had a seriously amazing smile all right,
with perfect white teeth that stood out against his dark skin, and she
definitely loved the dark skin part. He didn’t look Russian, more like
someone from Iran or Israel or Greece. Italy. Actually, come to think of it,
he didn’t look like any exact nationality she could pinpoint. Plus, the
outfit was just a little bit funky—he had on knee-high boots of dark brown
leather, and over that he wore a sort of tunic thing, down to his knees,
made of a simple linen material, with a long sleeved shirt underneath.
“Where are you from? Really?” she asked, dropping her pack to the ground.
“You sound Russian.”
He gave her a guarded look. “Very far from here.” Vairry fahr fvrom heare.
“But where?”
“It is not important.”
“Maybe it’s important to me,” she said with a laugh, but he gave her a look
of confusion.
“Okay, forget that. I’m Kelsey Wells,” she said, sticking her hand out. He
took it, his own hand closing around hers with warm confidence—and yet he
released it a fraction too quickly, as if unaccustomed to shaking hands.
He said nothing else, so finally she prompted him: “What’s your name?”
“Some call me Jareshk.”
“So, Jareshk, you’re like eastern European, is that it?” He only gave her a
blank look in return, and after tossing out a few other possibilities, she
finally said, “Okay, I give up. But only for a little while.”
***
If Kelsey Wells was any indication, humans were a highly persistent and
curious people, prone to leading with questions and seeking the truth. So
far this reconnaissance had led Jareshk to one conclusion: he liked her
species very much. Her clear, truthful eyes made him want to admit
everything about his mission here on her planet. An unwise choice, perhaps,
but with her relentless questions he had no doubt he would soon reveal his
identity—or be forced to leave. And he definitely did not wish to leave
Kelsey Wells, not quite yet. She brought out strange feelings inside of
him—pleasurable, electric feelings.
“Want to see the samples I found?” she asked him, her eyes alight with
sudden excitement. She climbed atop a large boulder beside where they stood
on the wooded path, and began to spread them out. “Here,” she encouraged
him, “come on and I’ll show you.”
He did as she invited, settling opposite her so that they sat nearly
knee-to-knee atop the boulder. He wished he weren’t wearing the tall boots
and his Shashar robe; if he were dressed like she was, he’d be feeling her
warm skin against his. As if reading his mind, she reached a tentative hand
and touched his right boot. “You must be really hot in that outfit.”
“It suits me,” he lied, feeling the mid-day sun beat down on him. The ship
had been much cooler than her planet’s surface.
“Yeah, I guess. If you’re a Ren Faire escapee.” She waved at his long robe
and tunic. “Couldn’t you take… well, the top part off? It’d be less hot.”
She had no idea how her innocent suggestion caused his blood to boil. He’d
turned fifteen ten months ago; he’d heard the elders whispering, talking
about his D’Aravnian blood, his line’s propensity for early-age mating
cycles. Blushing, he stared down into his lap. There was something wrong
with him, plain and simple. Mating cycles were for animals, not kings.
But it wasn’t the mating urges that were making him feel things for Kelsey.
It was very odd indeed, but he ached to please her. “All right,” he said,
jumping to his feet, and pulling the robe over his head. When he was done,
he stood before her wearing only his shirt and a pair of drakaer pants—like
her shorts, but worn beneath the over-tunic.
She studied him thoughtfully. “You know, that still just looks hot to me.”
He swore he detected a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes.
He sighed and shrugged out of the shirt altogether, then looked to see if
she was satisfied.
She stared up at him, and her clear eyes grew wide at the sight of his bare
chest. “Oh good grief!” she gasped.
What had he done? In a panic, he folded both arms over his chest
protectively. “What is it? Something… wrong?” He hadn’t even considered the
possibility that his body might appear quite different than that of a human
male.
“Nothing,” she practically squeaked, her face flushing visibly as she made a
big show of laying out her rocks for him to see—and of avoiding eye contact
with him.
In that moment, he understood. It wasn’t that his body appeared alarmingly
alien at all. No, she found him attractive! He began to laugh and felt his
own body flush in deep pleasure. Releasing an unsteady breath, he sat down
opposite her again, keenly aware not only of his own bare chest, but also of
her bare leg touching his.
“You have many rocks,” he said, reaching a self-conscious hand to cover his
right nipple. He felt naked, exposed—hungry for her, too, and the rushing
confluence of all those feelings inside, well they left him feeling shy and
embarrassed. “I-I do not know… way to describe their… beauty.” And he didn’t
just mean the rocks, either; he longed for a way to express how beautiful he
found her, as well.
“It’s okay, Jareshk,” she answered with a genuine smile of empathy. It was
as if she knew exactly what he was feeling. “Let’s just talk a while.”
And so they did, for hours and hours it turned out, and every time she
smiled at him, well his heart fluttered like a bird’s wing inside his chest.
As a king, he’d encountered myriad situations, but never anything like this
overwhelming and instant attraction he felt toward Kelsey.
So, for lack of a better strategy, he returned every smile she offered him,
and hoped it disguised the unsettled trembling he felt inside.
***
By late afternoon Kelsey wondered if she would ever look at life the same
again. Jareshk had already begun to seem less like a friend and more like a
boyfriend, and although it felt sort of sudden—it also kind of made sense.
Her best friend Allison Matthews had met a guy at the mall a month ago, and
he’d asked her to go with him that same afternoon, so this thing with
Jareshk wasn’t really all that strange.
The more time they spent together, too, the more his grasp of English
seemed—almost spookily—to improve. They hiked and talked; sometimes they
found a spot along the lake where they simply sat and watched the play of
the water’s surface. “Water at my home is not so clear as this. Not
usually,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
His face grew darker, sad. “It is polluted by… war. Our enemies.”
“What war are you talking about? You should tell me where you’re from, it’s
only fair.” She couldn’t help feeling angry that he wouldn’t reveal more
about himself.
“I don’t wish to burden you with heavy things,” he said, forcing his mouth
into a smile, only this time it didn’t reach his eyes.
Her anger melted away. “I want to know,” she encouraged.
“Thank you, Kelsey,” he said softly, and reached for her hand. Slowly, very
gently, he threaded his fingers together with hers, and every part of her
came more alive somehow.
They sat like that for a long time, with Kelsey’s body trembling, and
Jareshk holding her hand, until the day began to grow much cooler, and the
sun tracked low on the other side of the mountains.
But Jareshk never said another word about his country or where he came from.
****
On their last night together, Kelsey snuck out of her parents’ tent, and met
him by the water. It was late, nearing midnight, before she appeared there
beneath the moonlight. He’d been growing restless, frightened that he
wouldn’t see her again before he had to return to the transport. Kelsey
Wells did powerful, awakening things to him, things he’d never once
experienced in his almost sixteen years. It was as if every time he so much
as glanced at her, his cells burned brighter, or his powerful energy blazed
stronger. Two days they’d spent together, but it might as well have been a
year. He felt, on a very elemental level, as if he had known her for his
whole life. But this feeling of a connection between the two of them
transcended even that.
He had to return to the transport tonight; he knew it, but just hadn’t come
to terms with letting Kelsey go yet. Her family would leave tomorrow anyway,
and while so far he’d avoided her questions about where he lived, or when
they might see one another in the future, he knew he had much to tell her
yet.
But for now, there were other, more immediate concerns, and they mostly
revolved around a kiss. Both days he’d spent with her he’d longed to touch
her. To feel her skin against his, to know what her hair would be like
beneath his fingertips, but only now under cover of darkness did he finally
feel free to make his move. “I wish to touch you. To kiss you,” he amended,
blushing furiously for some reason. He thrust his chest out. “I wish to kiss
you, Kelsey Wells.”
A playful gleam appeared in her blue eyes. “Not until you tell me where
you’re from.”
He took another step closer, feeling his heart thunder beneath his ribs. “I
think it is imperative that we kiss.”
“Where are you from, Jareshk?” she asked. “Really? Cause you don’t talk like
the guys in Jackson, and I can’t kiss you if I don’t know. You keep not
answering, and--”
He lifted his fingertips to her lips, brushing them lightly across her
mouth. “I’m a visitor, like you.”
“Only, I’m visiting from like an hour away.”
He glanced up at the dark night sky. “It’s a bit farther to my home, yes.”
“My money’s still on the Soviet Union.”
He studied her for a considering moment, assessing his options and strategy.
If he told her the truth, it was unlikely he would get this kiss. But if he
didn’t, it seemed equally unlikely. Besides, he wanted her to know the
truth.
He circled her, studying, calculating. The khaki-colored shorts she wore
seemed no bigger than his little finger. Her legs, on the other hand, seemed
to go halfway to forever, all curves and shape, and just glancing at them
made his pulse skitter. His whole body tightened, and he wondered if it was
the result of these “cycles” he’d heard whispered about. Did he only ache
for Kelsey because of something strange in his blood? Maybe humans didn’t
think this way at all. He felt inexplicably embarrassed, even as he felt
powerfully aroused. Too aroused, he thought, with even more embarrassment.
She gave a nervous laugh. “You’re looking at me funny.”
“You are a child,” he said, trying to argue with himself. He shouldn’t kiss
her; she was too young, too human, yet he’d thought of little else for the
past two days with her.
“Are you kidding? I’ll be fourteen in another few weeks,” she snapped,
folding both arms across her chest, which only further emphasized her
shapely—very un-childlike—breasts. She was a woman. Maybe not completely,
not any more than he was a man, but she was becoming one, and every cell
within his Refarian body screamed that he should kiss her.
His mouth went dry. Blood rushed in his ears. “I just want to be kissed,
Jareshk. You’re leaving and I’m leaving, and I’ve never been kissed
before”—she took another step closer—“and, well, I want you to be my first
kiss, but it’s pretty simple. I want to know who you really are.”
“You do know me.”
“I mean know who you really, truly are. I don’t know that.”
“Oh, Kelsey,” he sighed, for in that moment, he knew he no longer had a
choice.
“Oh, Jareshk,” she teased him, stepping even closer. Her wonderful smile
spread across her face, and by All’s name, he had to kiss that mouth. He’d
never been kissed either, but he wouldn’t tell her that.
“I-I do wish to kiss you.”
She gave a slight, encouraging bob of her head, the cascade of tight auburn
curls bouncing as she did so. “Yeah, I definitely want to kiss you too.”
Few touched him, few approached him—and certainly no one ever kissed the
king. A droplet of rain fell on his cheek, but he ignored it, making his
bold move. He’d led troops into battle already, he could handle this. The
beating of his heart was worse than the night the Antousian brigade forces
had cornered him in Trajsek.
Another few raindrops plopped against his face, but he brushed them away
with the back of his hand. Now was the time. He bent low, seeking out her
lips with his own mouth. Just a brush, a light feathering of touch. So warm,
so soft, as they met his. He lifted his hands, and gently tipped her face
upward. He kept his eyes open, because he wanted to see her expression; she
had her own closed, giving herself up to him with perfect trust. On his
planet, nobody trusted a near-stranger anymore. Only that was the confusing
part: they weren’t strangers.
Closing his eyes, he grew more intent, searching out her mouth with his
tongue. He felt her hands reach upward, around his neck, her fingers running
through his hair. Touching him! Caressing him! Oh, gods, he felt alive!
The kiss deepened, became hotter and faster, and he closed his hand around
her back, pulling her flush against him. Everything seemed to be swirling in
around them; his power began to escalate, right in the core of his belly,
and he shuddered, afraid of revealing himself. But he couldn’t break the
kiss; he wouldn’t, but she did, pulling apart from him.
“Wh-what is that?” she asked, lifting her clear blue eyes to meet his. He
shook his head, feeling fuzzy and swimmy, and so aroused all at once.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She pointed upward, and as he followed with his eyes, more raindrops pelted
him in the face. The transport had descended, was hovering directly
overhead, silent, powerful. Purposed. He cursed in Refarian, then gazed back
at her. “It’s my transport. The elders have come to take me from here.”
She began to shake in his arms, but clung to him. “Elders?” her voice came
out a squeak. “Oh God,” she said, backing away from him. “You’re definitely
a visitor, all right.” Her voice shook, her hands shook, her eyes ringed
with panic.
“I didn’t want to frighten you,” he said softly. “Never. I wished to keep
you safe.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God, oh God,” she babbled frantically, staring up at the
transport carrier hovering directly over their heads. “I can’t believe this.
I just kissed you, and you’re an alien. Oh, God, oh God.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she shoved him farther away. “You’re going
to go and never come back.” He saw tears glint in her eyes.
He refused to let her push him out. “I will come back. I promise,” he
insisted. “I’ll come for you.” Then, the ship descended much closer in the
blink of an eye, hovering just above them.
Her gaze traveled upward, and her shaking intensified. “Y-you should have
told me,” she whispered, pointing upward. “Who are they?”
“My people. They only want me,” he assured her. “They’re not here to hurt
you. You know there’s no reason to be afraid of me, don’t you, Kelsey?”
“You would never hurt me,” she cried, and then, with a pained sound she
flung herself into his arms.
He paused long enough to bend down and kiss her full on the mouth again,
this time bolder and deeper. With the elders bearing down on them, he knew
what was coming: separation. And he knew what they both wanted—more of one
another. He sensed the transport move even lower still, and as he pulled
apart to stare into her eyes one last time, he made a decision.
He would have Kelsey Wells as his own. Here, now, some day, she would belong
to him completely, and he would give all of himself to her.
With an upward glance he made a second decision.
“Let’s go,” he commanded, as he would any of his troops under direct threat.
He grabbed her hand, and began running into the woods, leading her away from
his people.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere,” he said, breathlessly drawing her into the dark, away from those
who would separate them.
They ran for long moments, stumbling in the darkened woods. “My parents are
going to freak,” she laughed, and he tightened his grip around her hand.
“Please just run,” he instructed, pulling her with him until there was only
forest around them, and the only thing visible over their heads was the dark
treetops.
He stopped, breathing heavily as he stared upward to confirm their safety.
His people couldn’t get a fix on his positioning now. “I was not yet ready
to part from you.”
“It’s time for you to go,” she answered, her voice heavy with sadness.
He would enter hyper-space later tonight, tunneling across the galaxies via
an intricate network of wormholes and higher dimensions until he arrived
home on Refaria in a matter of weeks. Thousands of light years apart by her
human comprehension, but not for his people with their complex dimensional
technology, and he vowed then and there that he would return for her
someday.
“I will find you,” he promised.
“I’ll just be a microscopic speck in your universe,” she said, looking up
toward the night sky even though above them were only the trees.
He smiled, reaching to wipe her tears. “Kelsey, there is a long-standing tie
between our two worlds. I can’t tell you more now, but I promise you that I
will return one day. By then, you will probably have loved many human boys.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t think so.”
He smiled. “You are young.”
“Stop saying that!” she cried. “God, it’s so annoying. You’re not my
father’s age or anything.”
He began to giggle, a strange sensation—rarely did he have the chance to
laugh, but Kelsey often made him do so without even trying. “I want to show
you something,” he whispered, an idea growing inside of him. “Something that
I want you to remember, no matter what.”
She nodded, and he noticed that she shivered. “Here,” he encouraged, opening
his arms, “come closer.”
She took another step near to him, and when she stood only slightly apart
from him, he turned his right wrist over, allowing a silvery beam of light
from his other hand to fall upon the bare skin. He felt the prickling of
power, the spidery electricity of revelation—until, at last, his royal
emblem appeared in the air. Glowing and undulating in all its ancient
mystery. It was the one sure proof of his lineage as king. He was D’Aravni,
marked as such from birth.
Kelsey’s hand flew to her mouth as the bright swirling mark moved in the air
above his wrist, but she said nothing, only gaped at it. His eyes locked
with hers for a brief moment, but then her gaze traveled back to his royal
mark. “That’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “You are so beautiful.”
He smiled, feeling his face flush. Something strange stirred inside of him,
something that frightened him a little, a rush of desire that he’d never
felt before, not even during these past two days with her. It made his hands
tremble, but he resolved to keep his emblem open until she’d seen enough.
“Can I touch it?” she asked.
The heat in his body escalated again, causing the tremors to increase. He
swallowed. “Yes.”
She took a daring step closer, lifting her fingers gingerly to touch the
shimmering, swirling mark of his power where it hovered in the air just over
his wrist. First one finger, then another, until her whole hand skimmed over
the surface of his energy, causing a thrill of desire to snake down his
spine. Every time she touched his emblem, he felt it in his body.
Everywhere. He gasped, allowing the mark to retract, pulling it back within
his energy, and took hold of her. Without apology or thought, he kissed her
again. His sweet, blessed human, he had to kiss her.
And she kissed him back, with everything inside of her, she opened to him,
her tongue exploring his mouth, twining with his, her hands in his hair. She
had to feel him—more of him—before he left her behind.
“Stop now,” came a commanding voice from the darkness, slightly accented,
just like Jareshk’s. They sprang apart from one another, startled.
“My lord, you have made this difficult,” the man said from the shadows. He
spoke English, as Jareshk did with her, and as she tried to make out his
face, Kelsey’s heart thundered. What if this man wasn’t good like Jareshk?
What if he was the scary kind of alien?
“Elder Aldorsk, you interrupt without request.”
“We are overdue for departure, as my lord well knows.”
“Who is he?” she whispered under her breath, but Jareshk brushed past her,
touching her arm lightly in reassurance.
“Elder, I will return to the ship when my time here is done.”
“You will return with me now, my lord.”
In the silvered shadows, Kelsey could see the older man bow to Jareshk. She
watched the discussion play out, terrified for her life, terrified for her
possibilities with Jareshk….
“I obey and serve the throne, my lord. You are jeopardizing your safety and
your life here with this… young theshta.” The man waved in her direction
dismissively.
“Speak of her with respect.” Obviously theshta, whatever it meant, wasn’t
very complimentary.
Again, the man bowed, lower this time, placing what looked to be his hand
over his heart, though in the darkness it was hard to be sure. “She is
lovely, my king, and clearly kind to you, but your destiny beckons.”
King? Why did he just call Jareshk a king?
The man stepped out of the shadows, and although she flinched to realize he
was walking toward her, his eyes, once revealed by the moonlight, were not
unkind. In fact, they were filled with a surprising amount of sympathy,
which was probably why she felt she should trust him. She had to trust him,
it was very, very important all of a sudden, just as it was critical for her
to let him touch the top of her head, which the guy seemed to be doing,
folding his pair of weathered hands around her forehead.
In the background, like a sail boat bobbing lazily along the horizon line,
she thought she heard Jareshk say something that sounded like, “don’t.” Why
would he say that word? she wondered sleepily. So heavy, so tired, so… ready
to go home. What was she doing here? She glanced around her, and was
surprised to find that she sat right in front of the lake. How had that
happened? Last thing she remembered, she’d been asleep in the tent beside
her mother.
With a jerk of her head, she glanced in every direction—first across the
water, then up at the Tetons. The early pinkish light of dawn had begun to
color the horizon; their campfire was cold. How long had she been sitting
here? she wondered with a shiver. It made no sense whatsoever.
She must have been sleepwalking, she told herself, standing up to brush off
her hands. That had to be it. But as she glanced down at her palms, they
seemed to shine; not much, just the faintest bit, as if she’d dipped them in
Day-Glo paint or something, like she’d done while working on the homecoming
float last year.
Hmm, she thought with only a sluggish amount of curiosity. Wonder how that
happened? And then she stumbled back toward the tent, ready to sleep for a
very long time.
****
“Elder Aldorsk, I command you to desist.”
His mentor stared back at him, sadness in his aging eyes. “I must protect
you, my king.”
Jared knew then that the chief elder would not obey.
“Please, don’t,” Jareshk asked simply, beseeching Aldorsk with his eyes. In
horror he’d watched as Kelsey’s memories of their time together had been
wiped from her mind. If Aldorsk wiped his memories, too, he would never find
his way back to her. It would be as if nothing had ever happened between
them. Jareshk felt tears burn his eyes, and paced the transport hallway.
Must he be required to sacrifice even this? When he’d already given
everything to serve his people?
He knew what would come next, felt the tendrils of his mentor’s power
already reaching into his mind.
“Don’t take her from me. Please, Aldorsk, I beg of you.”
The elder’s kind eyes grew pained. “Son,” he said, clasping his shoulder,
“the memory jeopardizes your safety. It links you with her.”
“It was only a kiss!”
“A kiss that created a memory-bond between you and this human.”
“Her name is Kelsey.”
“My lord,” his beloved councilor said, bowing, “there will be many young
women… many kisses and far more than that. You are entering your first
season, that’s all that you are feeling. We can make arrangements to help
you through this cycle safely. To meet your needs--”
“Don’t talk to me about my season!” he roared, feeling his face burn at the
mere mention of it. “I’ve not had such a thing. I will never cycle, not with
someone of the council’s choosing.”
“Mating cycles are natural for your line, my lord. You know this, even if
we’ve never discussed it openly.”
Jareshk’s stomach tightened with shame. “I will not cycle, not without
Kelsey.”
“She won’t be the last.”
“She’s special,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to forget
her! I need to remember—I won’t be able to find her if I forget.”
“Your safety, my king, must always come first,” Aldorsk said, inclining his
head even as he closed his power around Jareshk’s mind. “Forgive me, but you
must forget.” He wanted to argue, to protest that he knew it wasn’t his own
safety, but rather the safety of the succession that the elders were so
worried about. Oh, he wanted to cry out a great many things, but he could
not seem to find his voice.
What did she look like? Oh, gods, he couldn’t say. What color was her hair?
No memory.
“Please,” he implored, locking his power of intuition around one image, the
only one he could seem to hold fast to, as all the others sifted away from
him like sand in an hourglass.
But what was it? He could not even say for sure. “I—beg you not to take
her,” he gasped, still seeking to lock onto something, anything that he
could keep of her. There it was again! And this time he recognized the one
image that Aldorsk couldn’t seem to touch: her graceful human hand caressing
his royal mark—then came another, of her in his arms, kissing him. Except
there was a problem: the kiss was like quicksand, impossible to grasp,
falling from him. If he could just recall her name, her eyes, anything! Then
he could keep the memory of her, it would be his, untouchable. Permanent.
Pure. Aldorsk’s power tightened around his mind a second time, causing a
flash of pain behind his eyes and a strange spasm of grief in his heart.
“There, my lord,” Aldorsk soothed softly, gazing into his eyes. He dropped
his hands back to his sides. “There, you are well.”
“Am I?” Jareshk asked uncertainly, lifting a hand to his head. There was
something precious he’d been trying so hard to remember. Wait—it was there,
just below the surface, if only he could lay hold of it.
Aldorsk slipped one arm around his shoulder, walking him toward the
transport elevator. “You will feel better once you rest, my king.”
“Yes, undoubtedly.”
“The trip to survey the mitres has been a heavy burden for you.” As always,
genuine concern filled Aldorsk’s eyes. He’d been the closest thing to a
father Jareshk had known since his own father’s murder almost six years ago.
Jareshk stepped into the lift, nodding politely toward Aldorsk, but a spark
of an image in his mind’s eye made him stop the closing doors with his palm.
A delicate hand, touching his mark. He never revealed his mark to anyone.
That image was chased quickly by another, more startling one: he was kissing
a woman with fiery red hair. He had never kissed anyone!
Aldorsk stared at him expectantly. “My lord?”
Jareshk’s head felt fuzzy, as if his memories and thoughts were suddenly
expanding far too much to fit inside his brain. Had he been thinking of
something? He wasn’t even sure.
“I’m to bed,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve no idea what I was going to say.”
Then, like a butterfly flickering aimlessly on to its next flower, the
memory of that kiss—that tender, stolen, unforgettable kiss—floated into the
burning sun.
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