The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Seventeen
Molly tightened her arms around his strong waist, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against her own. To her disappointment, he released her far too quickly, and without giving her one of his heady kisses as she’d hoped he would.
She looked up into his face, noting that his expression remained severe, his brows still together and lowered over eyes shadowed by a past he despised himself for. She sighed heavily, allowing him to step away from her without protest. He paced around the room, his agitation obvious. His wings flicked, fluttered, then folded repeatedly as if he struggled to settle himself.
He lifted a hand to run it through his hair, ruffling the silky, verdant length of it. “You said you wanted love, Molly, and I would give it to you if I could. Spinner!” He paused in his pacing to face her. “I wish it had been you! I think how much different my life would have been had I imprinted on you, sweet Molly.”
She clenched her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers together. Her heart pounded in her chest as her stomach knotted with concern over what he would say next. She had a terrible feeling she already knew what it would be.
He already had a mate. A wife, a lover, something. They always did.
She could handle what he’d confessed to in his past, because she knew there was more to the story, and the fact that it was all tearing him up inside meant he had regrets no monster would suffer. What she couldn’t handle was learning that another woman loved him and waited patiently for him to return while he’d used Molly’s body for his own entertainment.
“What is her name?” she asked bleakly. “Is she… is she beautiful, like you?”
When he didn’t immediately deny the conclusion she’d drawn, her heart sank until it felt like it pooled in a liquid mush in her toes. She struggled to remain standing since her knees felt too weak to support her.
“She was a goddess, Molly.” He turned his back to her, his wings spreading wide, then folding tightly against his back. “A golden beauty beyond anything I’d ever seen before.”
She felt grateful that he couldn’t see her expression, but she still turned her head away from him, unwilling to look at his beautiful form without feeling deep regret that she’d allowed herself to grow so attached so quickly.
“She was also the greatest monster this galaxy has seen in my lifetime,” Shulgi said in a harsh tone. Proof, if one ever needed it, that the outer appearance of someone is no way to judge them.”
Molly gasped, looking up in surprise to meet his gaze as he turned back around to face her. “She… was?”
His expression hardened into something cold and angry. “Her demise wasn’t my doing, but I like to think I had some hand in it.”
“But… you loved her?”
He shook his head. “I was imprinted on her. That is the only version of romantic love Iriduan males understand. We are bound by our own biology, trapped into a sort of enslavement to the female whose scent causes us to imprint. We can’t resist her after that, nor can we deny her anything she might want. We must obey. Over time, we don’t even want to resist. All we want is to make our queen happy.”
“That sounds horrible!” Molly’s eyes welled as she thought about what it would be like to imprint on someone terrible. Someone like Sha Zaska would be if he existed.
Shulgi’s gaze remained remote and cold. “It gets worse. We cannot be away from our queen for long without exposure to her pheromones. If we are deprived of them, we will slowly and painfully die. This aspect of our biology is used to control us—and to punish us.”
Molly’s brow furrowed even as her heart ached for Shulgi. “So, you said she had died, but,” she gestured weakly to him, “you seem healthy.”
“I am cured of the affliction. I won’t imprint on another female.”
“You mean you can’t ever love me,” she said sadly, nodding with understanding, though her heart hurt. “I can see how such a thing would be an issue. Now I understand what you meant in your message.”
He stalked to her, catching her arms as she made to turn away. One hand lifted her chin so she had to look up into his face. The coldness of his expression had softened.
“I am not in a position to be what you need me to be, Molly. But I think I am more than capable of loving you.”
His lips lowered to hers and he kissed her hungrily. Molly returned his kiss, her cheeks damp with tears she’d tried not to shed. If this was all they could have, then it was probably for the best.
She wasn’t in a position to love him either.
He pulled away before she felt even close to sated, lifting his head to give her a rueful smile. “I promised you a story. I have told you only a fraction of it.”
She brushed his hair away from his strong jawline with her fingertips. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the distraction.” She smiled, knowing it didn’t reach her eyes, but making the effort anyway. “Though I can see you need to tell me the rest.”
“I don’t expect you to be my confessional,” he said as he released her and took a step back.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a long moment as he ran a hand through his hair. He slid his palm back to the nape of his neck, gathering his hair up to pull it over his shoulder. His wings practically vibrated with his distress.
Her tentative smile widened. “You’d be surprised how often I serve that purpose.”
He opened his eyes and stared intently at her, a scowl forming on his face. “You deserve better than this life.”
Molly shrugged one shoulder, a warning prickle crawling up her spine. She had to stop tempting him to save her from a life she couldn’t leave. Not yet. “I actually enjoy talking to people—and listening. I want to hear the rest of your story especially, Shulgi. I enjoy talking to you the most.”
His expression looked shuttered at her words, rather than reassured. “I will tell you the rest of my story, but I need you to promise me something first.”
His tone sounded distant, and Molly worried that again, she’d said something to make him distrust her motives. “You can tell me anything!”
She stepped closer to him, but he backed away, holding a hand up to stop her. “I need to focus, and the closer you get, the harder it is for me to think.”
Though his words flattered her, his tone worried her even more. He was withdrawing from her in more ways than his physical position.
“What I tell you, you must never reveal to anyone. Especially not Sha Zaska or his minions.”
“Agreed,” she said immediately.
His eyes held suspicion, and she wished she could tell him the truth about her, about Zaska, about everything. Instead, she held a hand to her chest, meeting his gaze with her own, putting all her sincerity behind her next words.
“I will keep any secret you tell me to the end of my days and beyond, Shulgi,” she said in the most solemn voice she’d ever used. “I vow this to you. I may be Zaska’s slave, but I know how to keep my own secrets from him and all who serve him.”
“I want to believe you,” he murmured. “I know it’s reckless to tell you these things, but even so, I’ve already told you too much.” He started pacing again. “I suppose it won’t make a lot of difference if I tell you the rest.”
She wished she could comfort him by holding him in her arms while he told his story but could see that he needed to remain in motion given his agitation. Despite the reasons for that motion, his movements seemed to grow more fluid as he stalked back and forth, his wings finally settling as his shoulders squared.
“Tell me, Shulgi,” she said in an encouraging tone, moving to the chair nearby to sink into it.
He nodded sharply at her, his pupils slightly dilated now. “I was part of a specialized combat unit in the imperial military. We were sent on a mission to break up a rebel cell and assassinate its leader. We’d successfully completed many such missions in the past. We worked well together, the members of our team so close that, sometimes, it was like we had a single mind.”
He turned his back on her again, pausing his pacing to stand completely still as his fists clenched. He was silent for so long, Molly wondered if he’d speak again or if she needed to encourage him.
When he finally did continue, it was only after he’d lowered his head, his voice coming out ragged and filled with grief. “We didn’t have enough intel about what we faced. We went in expecting ragtag rebels and instead found a queen’s harem of highly trained Iriduan soldiers. She sent them against us without a single concern for their safety, sacrificing some of them so she could add our team to her numbers.”
“I’m so sorry, Shulgi,” she said softly, her heart breaking for him. “The queen, was she….”
He began pacing again, glancing her way only briefly before focusing on the walls of the room as if he didn’t want to meet her eyes. “She was no ordinary Iriduan female. I’m not even sure Command knew what she truly was. I like to believe they didn’t. I don’t want to think they sent us against someone like her with no knowledge of what we were facing.”
“What was so special about her?” Molly tried to keep the spark of jealousy she felt out of her tone. He’d already said this woman had been a “goddess” and stunningly beautiful.
He slowly shook his head. “I cannot get into details about her true nature, but she had abilities we weren’t prepared to counter at that time. Not only did she disable our infiltration team, but she somehow managed to remove our locked helmets without the explosives detonating.”
Molly lifted a hand, the gesture causing him to pause and glance her way. “Wait a minute. What do you mean about the helmets?”
Shulgi’s eyes looked haunted from this tale he told. “The helmets and masks of combat soldiers are biometrically locked during battle. If anyone tries to remove them other than the soldiers wearing them, or our medics or commanders, they will detonate, blowing the soldier’s head off as well as causing extensive damage to anyone close to him.”
Molly’s mouth gaped as she shot to her feet. “The empire kills their own soldiers if someone tries to remove their helmets? That’s monstrous!”
Shulgi shrugged. “They won’t explode if someone fiddles with them, or even tries to pry them off manually. The only way they detonate is if the seals are broken and we end up exposed to unfiltered external air.”
He regarded her outraged expression and it seemed to amuse him enough that the tight line of his lips softened into a slight smile. “Soldiers are expensive to train, and the empire values them as much as they value any life they control. We are not sacrificed on a whim—or without good reason.” His smile disappeared. “The precautions are necessary. In fact, my own fall to the affliction only proved how necessary it is. If she hadn’t possessed the powers that she did, I doubt she would have been able to afflict us and send us back to our ship to expose the remaining members of our team.”
Here, his head bowed, his fists clenching again. “She ordered us to kill anyone on our ship who didn’t imprint on her scent.”
“I knew there was a reason,” Molly said with sympathy.
In her Galactanet research on the Iriduans, Molly had read of the imprinting “theory”, but it had seemed like one of the less believable theories posed, given how odd it was that a male would become completely subservient to the elusive and very rarely seen female Iriduans. In fact, the empire kept female Iriduans cloistered—many against their will, according to some ‘net sources—which made it seem unlikely that females would have so much power in their society.
Shulgi shook his head. “Don’t absolve me of what I’ve done, Molly. The imprinting was powerful, but I could have found some way to resist her influence long enough to warn my teammates before we exposed them.” His jaw ticked as his gaze went distant. “The fascination, the feeling of being enraptured… we didn’t want to lose that. It was as heady as the combat stimulants in our blood. We were selfishly willing to do whatever it took to keep feeling that way.”
Despite his evident agitation, Molly went to him. He didn’t push her away, and this time, he didn’t keep her from drawing close enough to wrap her arms around his waist. “You told me a slave doesn’t have a choice, Shulgi. This ‘imprinting’ sounds like it enslaves Iriduan males.” She propped her chin on his chest, looking up into his tormented gaze. “At the very least, it sounds like you weren’t in your right mind after imprinting.”
She hugged him tighter and after several long, breathless moments, his arms wrapped around her shoulders.
“You are too good to me.” His hands stroked down her back.
The thickness of the material of her cloak kept her from feeling the warmth of his touch, and Molly lifted a hand to unhook it at her neck. It loosened, dropping from her shoulders to flap over his arms.
He impatiently tugged it off her as she looked up at his face, noting that his pupils had dilated further. As he pulled her tighter against him, she felt the firm ridge of his erection against her belly, and her core heated with excitement and anticipation.
She met his lips eagerly when he lowered his head to claim hers.
